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→Chapter Four

→"I'll certainly make every effort to attend this week," I say as convincingly as I can, and make my escape. I can't say I enjoyed the conversation. The Pontifex isn't all that bad, provided he leaves you alone, but it's not going to be much fun if he suddenly starts worrying about my soul.

→"Pressure of work," I reply, foolishly, which gets me a lecture about putting my work before the Church.

→"I haven't seen you at church recently," says Derlex, taking me by surprise.

→As Minarixa runs the only decent bakery in the whole of Twelve Seas I can't agree with this at all, but I keep my silence. I don't want to argue with the Church, it's too powerful to offend.

→"Women should not run businesses," he states.

→He doesn't. A women's organisation is anathema to the True Church. The young Pontifex seems quite upset by it. Not only does he dislike the poster, he doesn't seem to approve of Minarixa's bakery.

→"You don't sympathise with their aims, Pontifex Derlex?"

→I greet him politely, if slightly dubiously. I always feel nervous around Derlex. I get the impression he disapproves of me.

→It's Derlex, the local Pontifex, or priest of the True Church.

→"A sinful thing," says a voice beside me.

→The air stinks of rotting fish. It's hotter than Orcish hell out here. I redeem my sword at Priso's pawn shop. I'd like a new pair of boots but I can't afford it. Nor can I afford to redeem my illuminated staff or my spell protection charm. I get depressed about my poverty. I shouldn't gamble. I should have stayed at the Palace, riding around in official horse carts and raking in bribes. I was a fool to leave. Or rather I was a fool to get so drunk at the wedding of the Head of Palace Security that I tried to make a move on his bride. No one at the Palace could ever remember an Investigator being dismissed from his post quite so abruptly, not even proven spies and traitors. Damn that Deputy Consul Rittius. He always hated me. I buy some bread at Minarixa's bakery. Minarixa greets me in a friendly manner as I am a very frequent customer. Outside I notice she's put up a wall poster asking for donations to the Association of Gentlewomen. Quite a bold move on her part; many people disapprove of the Association of Gentlewomen, an unofficial organisation, deeply frowned on by the King, the Palace, the Senate, the Church, the guilds and practically every man in the city.

→I push my way past. Karlox laughs. He acts as an enforcer for the Brotherhood and he's a violent and unpleasant man. He's also dumb as an Orc. No doubt he enjoys his work. I leave him without a backward glance. The gambling debt is worrying me, but I'm not going to let an ox like Karlox see that.

→"You better come up with it, Thraxas, or we'll be down on you like a bad spell."

→"He'll get his money," I grunt. "I don't need gorillas like you to remind me."

→As if I needed reminding. Yubaxas is the local Brotherhood boss. I owe him five hundred gurans, a gambling debt after some very unwise speculations at the chariot races.

→"Passing on a message from Yubaxas. Money's due in five days."

→"What do you want, Karlox?" I demand.

→I glower down at the large man who's waiting there for me. He's very tall, very broad, and a virulent sword scar runs from his temple to his collar bone. With his shaved head he's an ugly brute by anyone's standards, and one I'd rather not have hanging around to see me. I go down the stairs and stop on the third from the ground so that our eyes are level.

→"That's not going to help you much if you don't pay Yubaxas what you owe him," comes a rasping voice from the bottom of the stairs.