Chapter 281
281 281 – The Lock
Type: Social
Narrator: Wa Fenya
“Did anyone sorting through her things uncover a silver padlock?” Lord Xho asked.
“I’m not sure you could call it a padlock.” Gun Nong Said. “It looked more fancy than functional.”
“I must see it immediately!” he insisted. “It is the only clue that tracks to the owl. And only through the owl can we get to its owner.”
“That’s not true.” Lady Kismet said. “Both Miss Fenya and I saw her, surely among the four thousand soldiers, one of them can draw faces when described.”
“And you would get, what? An image that only vaguely resembles what you remember of her? Even I do not have a System that unlocks perfect memory. We will only stop the Nine through facts, not merely through distorted glances.”
Kismet looked ready to rebut Lord Xho’s argument, but then gave an improperly submissive bow. Or perhaps she meant it to mock him? I’d like to think the latter, but Lady Kismet WAS an outsider to our culture.
“So how is the lock a clue?” I asked.
.....
Lord Xho Pien looked at me as though I were a four year old asking why the sky was blue. With a sigh and a glance at Gun Nong, he relented. “It seems we have time to cover that. Observe the bird cage, designed so that the owl can both open and close the lock. The inside of this area, here, shows a trace of silver.”
“Where a lock would go, yes.” I said, “Though I do not see how that is our one and only clue.”
“A lock. Of silver. Such a thing, whether made by a jeweler or by a locksmith, will bear the crafter’s mark. Such a thing is most likely to be a custom piece, one the crafter will remember. This will tell us how long the Nine have been within our fortifications, and tell us at a minimum how deeply they had penetrated at that point.”
Hoo Long nodded. “And if they hadn’t, knowing the day that she crossed wall sections would give us a rough time to check for that alias at the gates.”
Lord Xho rolled his eyes. “It is your time to waste. I doubt that one single alias will be of much practical use.”
I had a thought. “If we have her cage, she will need to get a replacement from somewhere.”
Lord Xho looked sour. “That is YOUR time to waste. By the time we interrogate all the workers of metal even in this section, it will be too late. We will still, at best, be chasing her. It would have been better if we had held onto the bird, and brought it to ritual trackers, and found her through the owl.”
“Lord Xho,” Pharmacist Hwa urged, “it is time for your medicine, lord.”
“Not just yet, Pharmacist Hwa.” The lord replied. “I need my brain sharp and reliable.”
“Are you ill, Lord Xho?” Lady Kismet asked. “This is the first I’ve heard of you needing medicine.”
Lord Xho shook his head. “Not need, I merely desire it. When there is no activity to apply my brain to, I use alchemical stimulation to ease the boredom.”
I reached out, took the pipe from Pharmacist Hwa’s bag. “This is White Lotus Extract. Both poisonous and addictive.”
“It is a narcotic which relaxes both mind and spirit, and soothes the ills of the body.” Pharmacist Wa retorted, holding out his hand for the pipe.
I returned it to him.
“Isn’t the white one also called the Death Lotus?” Lady Kismet asked.
“Every Child knows that.” Hoo Long said.
“Alas, I did not know that name until I had already begun its use. To be without for a prolonged period of time is... inconvenient. I shall have to walk the razor’s edge, limiting but not entirely stopping my usage of the drug.” Lord Xho said.
“And as has been mentioned, I am an expert at pharmacology.” Pharmacist Hwa said.
“Pharmacology? I may know that word in a different language.” Lady Kismet said.
“It is the precise knowledge of medicines, to which conditions to apply them, and how much. For example, Lord Xho was smoking too much lotus powder, especially from such a dangerous breed of the flower.” Offered Pharmacist Hwa.
“You need not fear.” Lord Xho said. “I am in control of my dangerous habit, not the other way around. What is taking so long with that infernal lock?”
“Here is the sign of the crafter.” Gun Nong said, producing a scrap of yellowed reed paper.
“Good man! We shall seek out this Farmer, while you go over each item of metal and jewelry, and see how many other items bear this mark.”
“Of course, lord.” Said Gun Nong.
I wouldn’t have said that. Given his attitude toward normal watch procedures, it was clear to me that this was just work to keep Gun Nong busy, not something that Lord Xho really cared about.
“I’ve seen this sign.” Lady Kismet said. “It is for a silversmith back at the core, but I forget her name.”
“Excellent.” Lord Xho said. “Please take Hoo Long with you for security.”
“But that journey will take us most of a day!” Lady Kismet complained.
“Yes.” He replied, “But believe me when I say that learning everything she has ordered from this silversmith may be critical to our investigation. Make haste! We shall not be idle in the two days this will take you. And ask about the bird cage as well, we will need to know whether it was made by the same...”
Lord Xho gasped in sheer horror as Gun Nong upended the cage.
“Nope.” Gun Nong said, “Different crafter’s mark.”
Muffling his mouth and nose with his sleeve, Lord Xho retreated to a nearby table. “You MORON! Just what do you think you are doing, in this time of plague and contagion? You have ruined that table, possibly forever.”
“Do you have the ability to see diseases?” Pharmacist Wa asked me.
“So sorry, I do not have that ability. Do you?” I asked.
“So sorry.” He replied.
“It is easy enough to fix.” Gun Nong said.
“Get your legs clear!” I warned, “He means to spill ale onto the table.”
“Of course I do.” Gun Nong said, upending half a pitcher onto the wooden table, and recklessly spreading it around with his bare hands. “Ah! Sorry, splinter.”
I mean, I knew the man for a reckless dolt. Brave, loyal, trustworthy... but still a dolt.
“There is not enough alcohol in the ale to treat the whole tabletop. We need something like alcoholic spirits. Innkeep!” Pharmacist Wa called.
What the... this was like one of those comedy plays from my youth, the type that my parents hadn’t wanted me watching, for fears that I would get the wrong idea about sex. I wanted to write them a letter right then, telling them that I was proud to announce I would NOT need maternity armor.
Maybe afterward. There are methods of cultivation that rely on raising a family.
Men are largely worthless, but with the proper touch, they could provide that after this siege was over. Presuming life returned to normal, and I wasn’t put naked into stocks for the rebels to rape me to death.
I sighed. More motivation to succeed at this mission, as though I needed that.
The Nine were traitors to Admiral Kwan Lun, which makes them traitors to the Empress herself. In my mind, they were owed no mercy. Nor were the rebels, nor any who did anything other than oppose them. Perhaps it is wise that I am a Soldier, and not a Merchant justice.
I withdrew from the table those two were... not purifying, to the one where Lord Xho watched in equal parts of horror and fascination. “So that leaves you, me, and Pharmacist Hwa. What are we doing today?”
“I thought that should be obvious.” He replied. “We are going to learn about the exciting world of messages, and maliciously see how badly we can subvert it to our own purposes. Although the military insists that the scroll system is secure, it is my belief that only three are needed to compromise it.”
“On the belief that two others of the nine are still in the messaging system, perhaps at different roles?”
“I am surprised they assigned even one champion. No, I believe that we will find two flunkies, or minions, or...” he waved a hand, frustrated, “...whatever you wish to call them.”
“Servants?” I asked.
“No, no. Closer to slaves. She may have twisted their honor to work with her. Pharmacist Hwa, we must depart. Cleanse the table later.”
“Of course, my lord!” Hwa Song replied.
I’ve seen cleansings before. They involved incense, and smoke of sage, powdered garlic and ginseng. What he and Gun Nong were doing?
Children, playing in the mud. If mud were alcohol.
historical
Lord Xho didn’t even look back to see if we followed, nor did he slow down; we had to sprint to catch up to him.
Judges, or justices, are of the Merchant caste. Although each caste has ways of judging, policing, and enforcing their own, judges and lawyers as understood by the other nations with colonies in the Isles was strictly of the lowest caste.