"I know where that is; let's go," Maq said to Fritzen, leading the way out of the inn and through the neatly kept streets of Sea Reach.
Because the island's steep hills crowded down almost to the water's edge, Sea Reach had evolved as an elongated city, strung out along the bay without much of a city center. Toward the western end of the bay, though, where terraced farms had been cut into the hills, stood a small square with a large sundial in the middle. Stone buildings that housed the agencies conducting all the official business of Sea Reach-city clerk, deeds registrar, constabulary hall, mayor's office-ringed the square's well-tended greenery.
"Foolish ass-brained spawn of a misbegotten muckdweller. It'd serve him right to rot in a cell here for a few weeks," Maq sputtered angrily as she stomped up the steep flight of steps leading to the constabulary hall's narrow entrance. "I can't dawdle too long in this town. We've got to be after the morkoth. I've a good mind to leave the muddle-headed ignoramus here and pick him up on the way back. Do him some good."
"Who taught you how to string insults together like that, a kender?" Fritzen asked wryly. "If you feel that way about the gnome, let's just leave him to his fate."
Maq shot her companion a withering glance. "How could you say such a thing? I'd sooner cut off my right hand. He's my friend. And I need him. But I'm furious that he got himself into this mess and that we have to take time to get him out of it. He knows the urgency of our mission."
At the top of the steps, Maq paused a minute to gather her breath, and her wits. Reflecting Saifhum's penchant for order, the constabulary hall dominated the other official buildings. Its massive, square-cut granite blocks reached up four stories, ending in a flat roof that was hidden by a parapet that, Maq was certain, itself hid a contingent of watchmen. If Lendle was being held here, they'd be hard pressed to extract him.
"Wait out here for me," Maq told Fritzen.
"But, Maq-" He began to protest, but she cut him off.
"I know what these islanders are like, and they'll think they know me because I look like them. On the other hand, you would just put them on their guard. And if they're suspicious, they might have someone start following us while we're in Sea Reach, which is a complication we don't need. I'll have better luck getting information alone," Maq explained. "I'll meet you on the square. If I'm not out by suppertime, then you can try to find out what happened."
"Yes, Captain," Fritz replied, making a mocking bow. "You ask, and I humbly obey."
Maq poked out her lips and put her hands on her hips. She opened her mouth to offer a retort, but thought better of it. Instead, she turned on her heels and went inside.
The Maquesta who entered the constabulary hall showed a far different mien than she had displayed on the steps. Suppliant rather than authoritative, Maq approached a tall counter that blocked access to the rest of the building. Behind it sat an officer busily scratching the nib of a feather pen across a long piece of expensive-looking parchment.
"Please sir, would you help me?" Maq asked plaintively.
"State your business," the guard said with an automatic brusqueness, still writing. When he looked up a moment later and saw an attractive young woman in obvious need of help, his manner visibly softened.
Maq smiled sweetly at him.
"My family and I live on the far side of the island, and I came into Sea Reach with one of our servants to visit the market. Only it seems he got himself in some sort of trouble at the Sea Reach Inn. Father will be so cross. Can you tell me how to find him and how to make amends for his offense?" Maq spoke softly, her hands held demurely in front of her. She still had the bags of provisions she and Lendle had purchased earlier, lending credibility to her story.
"Servant, eh?" asked the constable, looking her up and down.
For an instant Maq thought she had told the wrong sort of tale, that the constable wouldn't believe someone dressed as she was could come from a family with servants. But no, there were plenty of simple, hardworking folk on Saifhum, many of whom were wealthy enough to employ several servants.
"What's the servant's name? And is it a man or a woman?"
"Lendle, Lendle Chafka. He's a gnome."
"Gnome! Oh, that fellow. Couldn't miss him. He kicked Officer Rappa when they brought him in, hard, in the shins, yelling about how he had to go win back his stake," the constable said, tapping his pen on the desk. "We don't get many gnomes in Sea Reach-wouldn't ha' thought any lived on the island." A clear note of suspicion had crept into his voice.
"The far side of the island," Maq reminded him quickly, as she batted her long eyelashes. "He hasn't worked for us for long, and if this is how he's going to behave, he won't for much longer," she said, affecting indignation. "Is he here, then?"
"Nope. Can't work off a debt if you're in jail, that's Salomdhi's thinking. We would have locked the gnome up for awhile, but Salomdhi wanted him to come back to his place right away to start working," the officer said approvingly. "When there's money at stake, you'll not see Salomdhi taking a loss, that's for sure."
"Salomdhi?" Maq inquired.
"That's the fellow your servant lost money to in the card game. He's a merchant, the biggest in Sea Reach. Started out with one fruit stand and now he owns half the shops in the marketplace."
"Can you tell me where Mr. Salomdhi lives?" Maq asked. "Perhaps I can talk to him and arrange for my father to send him a payment. Lendle is our servant, after all. If he's going to work for nothing, he can do it for us."
"Sure. Take the street behind the hall and follow it until it ends. Salomdhi lives in a big white house with a red tile roof, the biggest house on the street. You can't miss it," the constable offered obligingly.
Maq had already thanked him and turned to leave when he called out to her.
"Young lady! Good luck in striking a bargain with him-Salomdhi's a tough customer." The officer chuckled, amused at the idea of the uneven match-up between Maquesta and the merchant.
Maq smiled to herself. He hasn't met a tough customer yet, she thought, but he will.
In the square, Fritzen was amusing himself by winging small pebbles at the backs of passersby then quickly turning the other way while they tried to figure out what had hit them.
"Don't you think one of the guards on top of the constabulary hall might spot you doing that? In this city, that could be enough to get you locked up," Maq said admonishingly.
"I live dangerously, and I like it that way." Fritzen grinned as he replied.
"Honestly! First Lendle, now you. I'm surrounded by a crew of juveniles-in behavior if not in age."
A sudden image of her father and Averon wrestling on the deck of the Perechon flashed through Maq's mind. She winced at the memory. With the thought of Melas, her sense of urgency doubled.
"Let's go. I know where Lendle is."
While she and Fritzen walked, Maquesta related what the constable had told her about Salomdhi and Lendle's sentence. Fritzen's eyes lit up at the news of the merchant's wealth.
"Sounds like there might be more to rescue at his house than just Lendle," he said mischievously.
"Fritz! We can't risk it. We have to concentrate on getting Lendle out of there and finding the morkoth," Maq said heatedly. "If you don't see that, maybe you shouldn't be on this voyage."
Suddenly serious, Fritzen reassured her. "I owe a great debt to both your father, for taking me in when the Torado sank, and to Lendle, who nursed me through a dark time." The half-ogre's face clouded as he mentioned those two events. "I am not one to either forget or neglect an obligation. You may rely on me, Maquesta."
Sea Reach was, in truth, not a very big place, and they arrived at the merchant's house quickly. Built near the foot of one of the rugged hills that encroached on the city, the house stretched up and down the street, but was not exceptionally deep. A white stone wall, half again as tall as Fritzen and topped by the same tiles that covered the house's roof, extended from either side of the dwelling until it reached the base of the hill.