Next morning Darni left us sitting over indifferent ale and worse food in the tap-room and went to find his contact. He returned unexpectedly fast with an expression that would have soured wine.

'Trouble?' Shiv pushed the jug towards him as he seated himself with a sigh.

'He's dead.' Darni scowled into his ale and fished something out.

'How?' Gens' eyes were wide with concern.

'Abscess. The surgeon pulled the tooth, but it was too late. The poison was in his blood and two days later…' Darni shrugged.

I ran my tongue round my own teeth, grateful to my mother for the gap I had there. I'd bet the others were doing the same; it's a story we've all heard, after all. I frowned at Geris, who was looking inappropriately cheerful, and he blushed and ducked his head.

'Did he leave any word, anything for you?' Shiv asked hesitantly. 'Your letter…'

Darni shook his head. 'Not that I can find out. The widow's sold up and gone back to her own family. You can't blame her, he's left her with five to bring up.'

He glowered at his ale and went off to start an argument with the potman about it.

'So who was this man? What was Darni hoping to get from him?' I asked, curiosity pricking my neck.

'It's not important.' Shiv managed to combine smiling at me with a warning glance at Geris.

So that was that. I let it go; if there was no information and as a result no risky job for me, they could keep their little secrets if it made them feel important. Still, distracted men make poor gamblers. I took my runes out and smiled cheerfully at them both.

At least we could leave muddy Hanchet and, although we had to make a long detour to the next bridge, we were still in Dalasor before the full dark of the night.

CHAPTER FOUR

Taken from:

Thoughts on the Races of Antiquity

Presented to the Antiquarian Society of Selerima by Weral Tandri

I am sure, gentlemen, that, as children, you and I were entertained and on occasion chastised by our nurses with tales of the Eldritch Folk. Did any of you lose a fallen tooth, as I did, and lie awake that night, afraid lest some little blue man step out of a shadow and demand one from my mouth in place of his rightful offering? We can all laugh now and, as grown men of learning, we might feel such subjects too trivial for consideration. I will not argue with those who do so, but I have chosen to search for whatever seeds of truth may have nourished such flowers of children's fancy.

With the increasing popularity of antiquarian studies among gentlemen of breeding and fortune, several Eldritch rings have been excavated in recent years. Some fascinating discoveries have been made; from their bones, we learn these people were indeed shorter than modern men by some hands-widths. A warrior found buried on Lord Edrin's lands near Ferring Gap was found to have black hair and possibly swarthy skin, although this may have been a result of the remarkable preservation of his remains in ground akin to a bog before drainage allowed cultivation. Tales of little dark men do not seem so very far from the truth.

The Shadow-men were said to ride upon the wind. Well, a ring opened in Dalasor last spring found a woman of rank, by her garments, buried with six horses, bones all draped with the remains of richly ornamented harnesses. More workaday effects included tents, quilts, distaffs, a quern and a brazier, but there was no sign of any wheeled conveyance; indeed none such has ever been found even depicted in Eldritch art. Consider the vast windswept plains of Dalasor even today, and it is not so hard to imagine a race of people living and travelling with those herds of horses that we know once roamed the lands.

Gentlemen, the time has surely come to gather and examine the evidence in a more scientific manner. Our ancestors, in their ignorance, could not see beyond conflict with the ancient races of wood and mountain. Consider, however, the benefits accrued now that miners of Gidesta work with the Mountain Men of the Dragon's Spines; the very knives you use at table benefit from skills and techniques lost to our smiths for generations. When the Crusted Pox struck Hecksen last winter, their apothecaries could soothe and save many sufferers with simples learned from their commerce with the Forest Folk.

Our tales for children credit the Eldritch Folk with many miraculous powers but, alas, they have left no descendants in modern times. Their burials and artefacts are all we have to study, so I am here today to ask for your co-operation and yes, it is true, your coin. If we can establish a proper programme of study, we can add inestimably to our knowledge of antiquity and may even discover lost marvels to benefit ourselves and generations yet to come.

The South Road, Dalasor

38th of For-Autumn

I shivered as I stood looking across the grasslands early in the morning. The grass was damp with dew and silvered with icy fingers wherever the few scrawny trees gave shelter.

'Cold?' Geris opened his arm and I stepped inside his cloak gratefully.

'How long is it to Equinox?' I frowned. 'Isn't it a bit early for frost?'

Geris pursed his lips as he rummaged in a small trunk, typically emerging with three assorted Almanacs. The rest of us make do with one to a household, if we're lucky.

He flipped over the pages and compared the charts of the waxing and waning moons.

'It's five days if there's no lesser moon tonight,' he said finally. 'We've come a long way north, don't forget.'

I dug out my own cloak. 'So we won't get to Inglis until we're into Aft-Autumn then. Have you got an Almanac covering Inglis? What'll be going on?'

Geris consulted one of the other books but shook his head after a moment. 'It's all guild business, fixing prenticeships and the like.'

That tweaked my curiosity and I was about to ask for a look when Darni called us over to get mounted. As we moved out, I decided I really didn't like Dalasor. Among other things, there's almost no cover and that makes me seriously uncomfortable. I always like to have a discreet route out of any situation but out here you could be seen for leagues. As we rode, I found my back prickling like a child who's convinced there's a monster in the well-house or the privy.

We reached a turning off the high road and I was surprised to see Darni take it. I kicked the horse, sorry, Russet, into a canter and caught up with him.

'Aren't we going to take the river? I thought that's the fastest way to reach the coast.'

Darni shook his head. 'All the miners and trappers will be coming out of Gidesta at the moment; winter comes early to the mountains. The boats will be full of them and they're rough company at the best of times. I want to steer clear of trouble.'

'Oh, oh well.' I tried to hide my disappointment.

Darni grinned at me. 'Looking forward to a game, were you?'

'They say you can make a killing on the bigger boats if you manage to get out without a knife in your back,' I allowed.

'Sorry. You'll have to try and win a few head of cattle off some herders instead.'

It was all very well for Darni to laugh but, a few days later, I did manage to win us half a beef and a load of fodder when we stopped to spend the night with some drovers taking beasts south for slaughter. I slept well despite the noise of the cattle shifting around us but that was my last decent night.

'You're very jumpy,' Darni observed neutrally as we crossed yet another featureless stretch of plain and I kept looking over my shoulder.

'I'm not used to being so conspicuous,' I admitted. 'The sooner I feel cobbles under my feet and can see a wall to hide behind, the happier I'll be.'