There was no chair on their side of the desk.
“Still raining I see,” the old man said.
“Yes, sir,” Gwen replied with an abrupt curtsy, the sort her mother had taught. She hadn’t performed it in years and felt awkward.
“What can I do for you?”
His question caught her off guard. She had expected to be rebuffed, insulted, or ignored the way the woolen merchant had treated her. Gwen had brought Rose along for that very reason, figuring no one could say no to Rose’s big round eyes, but he wasn’t even looking at Rose.
“Ah … there’s an unused building on Wayward Street in the Lower Quarter across from The Hideous Head Tavern and Alehouse. I-”
“Hold on.” The old man leaned back and looked over his shoulder. “LQ-quad fourteen,” he shouted, and one of the younger men trotted to a shelf and began flipping through parchments.
“I-” Gwen began again, but the assessor held up a hand.
“Wait until I see what we’re talking about. It’s a big city, and I can’t be expected to know every corner, much less one as small as quad fourteen in the LQ. Not a lot of activity down that way.”
Gwen nodded. Water ran down her forehead and into her eyes. She blinked rather than wipe her face, not certain if doing so would be considered proper. In the silence that followed, she was amazed how loud the sound of dripping clothes could be.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” the assessor asked.
“I was born in Calis.”
“I can see that. What’s your name?”
“Gwen DeLancy.”
“Uh-huh. And who’s this with you? Not your sister.” He offered a wry smile.
“No. This is Rose.”
“Where are you from?”
Rose smiled sweetly, playing her part perfectly, because she wasn’t acting. “Near Cold Hollow, between the King’s Road and-”
“I know where it is.”
“We’re…”-Gwen hesitated-“business partners.”
“Really? Don’t see too many young girls running businesses.”
“We’re unusual that way.”
“You are indeed.”
The clerk laid a pile of parchments on the desk before the assessor, who carefully flipped through them. “You’re talking about lot four-sixty-eight, The Wayward Traveler Inn.”
“It’s not an inn anymore-just a pile of warped boards.”
The assessor nodded. “That would explain why no taxes have been paid on the lot in … eight years, seven months, and six days. What do you want with it?”
“I would like to buy it.”
“Buy it?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t buy it.”
Gwen’s shoulders drooped with the finality of the words. “But no one is using it.”
“That doesn’t matter. All the land in the kingdom of Melengar is owned by His Majesty. He doesn’t part with any of it-ever. So unless you have an army that can move in and hold”-he looked again at the parchment-“lot four-sixty-eight against Melengar’s military might, then the king will be keeping it.”
“But wait-what about The Hideous Head across the street? Raynor Grue owns that.”
The old man shook his head and sighed. “I just told you, the king owns everything in his kingdom. Raynor Grue doesn’t own”-once more he looked at the parchments-“lot four-sixty-seven. He merely has the privilege granted by His Majesty to operate a tavern and alehouse at that location.”
“Privilege? You mean a permit?”
“Certificate of Royal Permit.”
“Then I would like one of those.”
“What kind of business do you intend to operate?”
“A brothel.”
The assessor tilted his head down and peered first at Gwen, then at Rose. “I see.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Do you have any family near Cold Hollow?” he asked Rose.
“Yes,” Rose replied. “My mother-I buried her there last year.”
“And your father?”
“If I had one of those, I’d probably still have a mother.”
The man nodded with a solemn expression.
“And you?”
“My parents are dead as well. That’s why we need to start a business.”
The old man pursed his lips and shook his head. “It will cost you two gold tenents for the certificate, plus eighteen copper din for the filing fee. Do you have that much?”
“Ah … yes. Yes, we do.” Only two!
The man appeared surprised and showed her a slight smile. He took a parchment and, dipping his quill, began to write. “You will hereafter be assessed taxes relative to the income you accrue. If you fail to accrue any income within the first six months after the issuing of your permit, or if you fail to pay the required taxes within one month after the last assessed period, to be conducted henceforth on a biannual basis, you will be evicted with no reimbursements of investment.” He spoke rapidly, reciting with a bored tone. “Do you have the two tenents and eighteen din with you now?”
“Oh-yes.” Gwen pulled the purse out from between her breasts.
“The certificate will stand valid for one year. After that, you will need to obtain a new one.”
“We can start living there right away-today, right?”
“You can do whatever you want so long as it is legal, doesn’t threaten the security of the city or kingdom, provides taxable income, and the king approves.”
“The king will visit?” Gwen asked, shocked.
The assessor looked up and chuckled. “No. His Majesty will not be paying a visit. But someone from the Lower Quarter’s merchants’ guild will.”
“And if he approves of what we’re doing, we get to keep it?” Gwen held out the coins.
“You get to use it,” he corrected. “Be aware that any improvements made on the site will become property of the king and that your certificate can be revoked at any time by a royal writ.”
Gwen snatched back the money. “What does that mean?”
“If the king wants to, he can kick you out.”
Gwen looked worried.
The old man leaned forward. “Be successful, but not too successful.”
She nodded as if she understood and let go of the coins, feeling both relieved and terrified. She’d just secured a home for all of them; she’d also just handed over most of their money in return for a broken-down hovel.
“It’s ours,” Gwen told them all when she and Rose returned.
The rain still poured, but Gwen didn’t mind as much. The building was theirs, every ugly rotting beam. The day had warmed, but the rain continued, which Gwen saw as a benefit. Just like with Ethan, the downpour would keep people indoors. Until she was able to get the place sealed up, she felt they were as exposed as mice in a field. While the rain was a nuisance, it had the added benefit of grounding the hawks, allowing her time to dig a burrow. Puppies, cats, ducks, and now mice, why she always thought of them in terms of small animals she had no idea except that such things were cute but also often a burden.
“A man will be by in a few days, and if he approves, this will all be ours.”
“All this?” Jollin said in a sour tone.
While Rose and Gwen were gone, the remaining girls had only managed to clear away a small bit of refuse and block a few holes with flimsy boards. More of the wind had been shut out, and rain stopped pouring into the parlor, but beyond that the place was still a disaster of fallen timbers and open walls.
“It will look better,” Rose assured them. “We just need to fix it up.”
“Going to be cold and wet tonight,” Mae said. “And all the sweeping in the world won’t help that.”
Gwen nodded. “Need to get that chimney clear and the fireplace cleaned out before dark. We’ll burn scrap wood to help clear the clutter. I have money left over, enough to buy some lumber, but we’ll need to reuse as much as we can.”
“But we don’t know anything about carpentry,” Etta said. “We’re never going to be able to fix this.”
“And me and Abby tried to move some of them bigger beams.” Christy pointed at what must have been a brace beam that had fallen across the stairs. “We couldn’t budge them.”