109 - Information sharing and vetting

  The traffic turned the head of the pond, and another carriage pulled up, this time on the right side. Karen grimaced as it approached, and sat up straighter, pulling the bottom of her vest and blouse straighter.

  “Lady Dannakarena Konsalva.” A diminutive woman, with an imposingly proper air sat in the coach, facing Karen. Her lined face a soft mask of regal elegance. Her silver hair flowed around her head and shoulders. She wore a fine, though simple gown.

  The rest turned as Karen spoke.

  “Lady BarDona. How does the day find you?” Karen’s tone was completely subservient.

  “Quite well, thank you. And yourself?” Lady BarDona was exceedingly proper in tone.

  “I am fine. What may I do for you this day?”

  “You are no doubt aware of the general happenings during the ball at the palace last evening?” Though asked as a question, all heard this for the statement it really was.

  “I am, to an extent.”

  The look on the old lady’s face hardened slightly. “Yes. I am sure you are.” Her look mellowed. “What with Lady Hedarra and those like her doing the turns of this park, and others. And who are your guests?”

  “This is Roxanne and Steven, from the Sierra Mountains. And this is Caspian, from the Silvona lowlands. They have been here a few days as my guests. Today I am showing them around the parks.” Karen motioned to each as she named them.

  “Yes. Showing them the local sports, and games. Tell me, what do you really know of the happenings last night?” Lady BarDona was droll in her tones.

  “Not much. There was a squabble of some kind. All the stories say someone got hurt. And that the second person got away.”

  Lady BarDona gave Karen a long look. “Why do I always get the feeling, whenever I talk to you, that you know more than you appear to?”

  Karen shrugged, and smiled. “Perhaps it is because I do. That comes from working all the time.”

  “I see. You have always been just as good at conversation as your parents were.”

  “I should hope so. As you know, we were trained by the same people.” Karen though she was overtly referring to Jasper and his wife.

  “I have always figured as much.” Lady BarDona was not taken in by the subterfuge; not that she ever had been.

  “So you have always said. But that still has never gotten you much to gossip about.” Karen always felt like she was sparring with this older woman, when they spoke.

  “Gossip has never been my intention.”

  “Yes. Information was. You leave the gossip to those like Lady Hedarra.”

  “You should speak more kindly of your elders. Even if what you say is the truth. I do have one question for you, and I ask that you answer it truthfully. Do you know specifically what happened to Lord Gakavo?” Now the old woman was down to her real business.

  “Yes. He died.” Karen dead paned this answer.

  “That is hardly the news or answer I was looking for. Of course he died. My concern is who did it.”

  “That seems to be the real mystery, doesn’t it, Lady BarDona? If you find the answer, and think it worth my knowing, do please let me know.” Karen’s tone lightened.

  “It does, indeed. And if I do find anything out, that I think interests you, I will let you know.” The old woman’s face had hardened, slightly.

  “I will much appreciate it. Thank you, my lady. If you will excuse me.” Karen turned to the driver. “Take this exit, please.”

  They slowed, and moved around the other carriage, and turned right out of the parkway. They traveled this tree lined road in silence for a time. Then Caspian and Karen both looked around. Karen turned around again.

  “Driver, we need to close up again.”

  “Yes ma’am. Shall I take Chryuso Road, or would you prefer Tavern Row, into the Garmad district?”

  “Which ever suits your fancy.”

  The top was closed again, and Cyrril promptly fluttered through the window clutching a leather bound book as big and heavy as him. He dropped it in Karen’s lap, and then moved to Caspian’s shoulders.

  Karen opened the book and paged through it to the open section. She put the loose pages in the back of the volume and then looked over her writing.

  Caspian looked at it over her shoulder, briefly. “I would have to look at it longer to be sure, but the pattern looks like Lacadian Shorthand. The script is not familiar.”

  “It’s customary, Wizard, not to read someone else’s journal without permission.” Karen turned in her seat to face him more, and mask the writing. She also started her psionics going, to muffle the sound, so as to prevent it from going beyond the carriage. “Here we go. At the formal wedding of the current monarchs of this kingdom, they were given a prophecy by a prophet. The prophet said that the Harbingers of the Chaos Bringer would kill this king and queen. Male for male, female for female. And this would happen before the Chaos Bringer came into mortality. Therefore, the monarchs seek to insure that these two harbingers would be grown to a ripe age before killing them, and thus allow the monarchs long lives.”

  Karen put the pages back in place and closed her book, refastening the leather thong that wrapped around it. “And that is why they sent after your kids. They think that by sending them to allies of this kingdom, they can keep your son and daughter under control until they are well and mature. Don’t say anything more, until we are inside the tavern.”

  After rolling the sides back up, They all sat quietly, thinking about this. A light sprinkle drifted past, enough to cool things down. Karen watched as the familiar district rolled by outside, and after turning down a lesser street the carriage stopped, and the footman opened the door.

  They all got out. Here on the corner of the building sat a tavern facing both directions. A sign with crossed bloody knives hung from the corner of the building. People went back and forth on the walks, crossing the streets, and dodging the larger traffic. Karen paid the driver, and sent him on his way. She then led Caspian and the Caplan’s into her tavern, and through into her back office.

  The office was a bit larger than a closet with space for maybe two more people. The door opened to the left as they entered and a desk with a hutch stood against the right wall, a short stool tucked under the desk. As the three gathered beside the desk, Karen put her journal into a drawer, turned to face them, and leaned against the desk. She motioned that the door be closed. Once it was, she spoke.

  “Time to level with you, some. I have been watching you for the last few days.” Karen could sense the concern in them. She turned to her left and started talking.

  She pointed at Rox. “You went dress shopping, but were also interested in the leather and metal crafters. You were not interested in jewelry.”

  She motioned to Steven, who stood in the middle, closest to her. “You wandered the city, after getting fitted for a borrowed suit, which I presume got returned this morning. You were interested in the larger fabric mongers, and weapons dealers.”

  Karen turned to Caspian. Cyrril was upright, with his wings fanned a bit. “You have been the hardest to follow, thanks to him. So all I was able to tell was that you don’t like suits. But I also know you have traveled off planet, as he is not native. That gives me a general sense of your training level.”

  Steven chuckled, remembering Caspian’s grousing at the tailors, and how eager he was to get rid of them this morning.

  Karen continued. “We have established that you are the parents of the kids ordered kidnapped by these monarchs. They left this city about eighteen days ago, and you don’t know where to find them.”

  She looked pointedly at Caspian. He did not say anything. So Karen continued.

  “I presume that you were equipped with trackers of some kind. The problem with those is that they do not read through thick rock very well. I can lead you to the paths to the villages where your kids are.” Karen’s senses were on full.

  Caspian, was upset and suspicious, and not wanting to give any information away. Steven was less upset and verging on excited. Rox already had been told this basic speech on the way this morning.

  Karen felt she needed to give them time to talk. “I now invite you to consider whether to take me up, or not. If you want to know more, and have my help, take me up and we can be on our way by dinner. Otherwise, you are free to leave now. Here are a few coins, go get some drinks. I advise the back wall as those booths have curtains.”

  Karen moved past Roxanne and out, where she then went behind the bar to tend. She also ordered some fresh bread and meat for their lunch from the cook, and set it out on the bar as they filed past.

  Caspian was about to walk out, when Steven caught his arm and steered him to a curtained booth. Rox picked up the tray with the bread, soft cheese, a chunk of meat, and some cutlery and small plates. Caspian sat in the booth, facing the bar, and Steven crowded in after him on the same side. Rox sat opposite Steven. Shortly Caspian was having a once in a while ale, as the Caplan’s drank water with their lunch’s.

  Karen was not surprised at the ale, as inebriation made psi-scans more difficult. Evidently the half-elf and her mate did not imbibe. Karen did not imbibe herself, having never had any tolerance: the one time she drank, she was under the table before she had finished the first drink. She was sick all the next morning, until her psi-instructor took the opportunity to teach her how to purge her system by temporary increase of metabolism.