The Thief's Gamble

Geris shook himself and abandoned calendar calculations for the present. 'I'm not sure I should be talking to you about it,' he admitted.

'If I'm going to be doing a job for you there, I need as much time as possible to plan it.'

'I don't see how I can help.'

'Well, what am I supposed to be lifting? Who from? Why are these things so important?'

Geris shifted on the seat. 'It's an ink-horn,' he said finally.

'A what?'

'An ink-horn. You keep ink in it, it's made from horn.'

'Yes, I know what one is. What's so special about this one? Darni could buy a handful in Col.'

'We need this particular one. The owner won't sell so we've been wondering how to get hold of it. You came along at just the right time.' He gave me a wide-eyed smile.

Geris could keep his attempts at charm as far as I was concerned. The timing could not have been more wrong from my point of view. I was suddenly tired of this game.

'Look, either you tell me what's going on or I'm off this cart and into those woods before you can pick your nose. Try explaining that to Darni.'

He blinked at the hard edge to my tone.

'Darni said he'd tell you what you needed to know,' he pleaded.

'Geris,' I said warningly. 'I can be out of sight before you can get Darni's attention.'

'It's complicated,' he said finally.

'We've got half a day before we're anywhere near Drede and I'm a good listener, so talk.'

He sighed. 'Did I say my mentor at the University was an expert on the end of the Empire?'

I nodded. 'Yes, Nemith the Reckless's reign.'

'He collects old maps, temple ledgers, contemporary records, anything he can get his hands on. Dealers know him, and a few years ago he started picking up antiquities too, mostly things to do with scholarship — pen-cases, magnifiers, scroll-ends. Nothing very valuable, you understand, but interesting for their own sake.'

Where was this leading? I kept quiet.

'This is going to sound really peculiar.' Geris looked reluctant so I gave him a glare.

'He started having dreams. Not just ordinary dreams, but really detailed, vivid ones. He said it was like living in someone else's life and he could remember every detail once he woke up, for days afterwards. I don't suppose anything would have come of it if he hadn't been at a mentors' convocation at Solstice last winter where they all got drunk. He started talking about these peculiar dreams, and it turned out two other mentors were having the same. Now, Ornale, that's his name, was thinking he was just working too hard, his sleeping mind was getting involved in his studies. He was telling the story against himself really, but the two others were actually quite relieved to hear about it. One's a geographer who's investigating weather patterns, and the other's a metallurgist who's trying to find out just how the Empire mints purified white gold.'

Him and several thousand others, I thought. Life will get very interesting if someone rediscovers the secret of the white gold that makes Tormalin Empire coins the only unforgeable currency around

'So?' I prompted.

'Well, their studies had nothing to do with Empire history as such. The geographer was starting to wonder if he was going mad, I mean, he's a Rationalist and a real extremist; he says he doesn't even believe in the existence of the gods. The metallurgist was putting it down to too much exposure to mercury fumes. Anyway, they got talking and it soon became clear that these dreams featured people and events that Ornale recognised from his studies but that the other two had never even heard of. You see, the records about the end of the Seafarer's reign are pretty incomplete and Nemith the Reckless's reign was so short, what with the Empire falling apart around his ears, that there's virtually nothing to find. Anyway, there was a governor in Califer and Ornale, because of his studies, is just about the only person who knows anything about him, but Drissle, that's the metallurgist, he was able to tell him the name of his dogs and things like that.'

I could see why Geris would never make a playwright. I broke in as he paused for breath.

'So how do we get from weird dreams to stealing an ink-horn in Drede?'

'You see, they couldn't find anything in any sources about dreams like this. There are some temple traditions about using dreams for foretelling, but that led nowhere. There's a Gidestan legend about a man who had visions in his sleep but—'

'Geris, I don't want to know all this,' I interrupted. 'Why am I supposed to steal an ink-horn?'

He looked a little sulky and was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. 'They decided to see if they could find a common factor which might have some significance.'

The scholarly mind, I thought, a complete mystery to the rest of us.

'It turned out they each had a small collection of Old Empire artefacts. Drissle had a money-scale, some seal matrixes and an alchemy chest, and Marol had maps, cases and a model of Aldabreshi, showing the way the currents move through the islands and change with the seasons. It's really interesting, you see—' He bit his lip. 'I don't suppose you want to hear about that either. They found they each had one thing that they felt really attached to, that they wouldn't sell for any money. All these things dated to within a few years of each other, just before the fall of the Empire, and they all cropped up in the dreams. They decided to experiment and swapped the artefacts with each other, but once the things were out of their possession, the dreams stopped. When they had them back again, the dreams started again.'

I looked ahead, we were catching up with Darni and Shiv. 'Get to the point, Geris,' I pleaded.

'They couldn't find an explanation so they decided there must be magic involved. They asked around, and found out that one of the mages, Usara, is researching into the fall of the Empire and the founding of Hadrumal. He thinks these dreams could produce valuable information, so he's organising people to find more of these antiquities.'

'And this ink-horn is one of them?'

'It's the right period and it's the sort of small personal item we find is associated with these dreams. The real clincher is the old boy who's got it really doesn't want to sell. That's generally significant.'

'He could just be greedy, looking for a high price, like over the tankard.'

'I've been meaning to ask you about that.' Geris grew more animated and his tone rose. 'Why did you choose that particular piece? That merchant had quite a few things we were interested in; that was the really likely one but it's not the most valuable. Did you handle it for long? Did you feel anything when you took it?'

'Geris!' Darni and Shiv had halted, waiting to cross a toll-bridge. 'What did I tell you?' Geris subsided into silence as Darni rode up.

'I'll tell her what she needs to know, when she needs to know it.' He rode forward to dispute the toll with the bridge-keeper and I stared at his back with real dislike.

We crossed into Friern and I let Geris drive us on in silence. I had plenty of questions but they could wait. Friern was not the place to have a major argument with Darni which might end up with me leaving the trio. We passed a tavern, the Grey Stag, and some while later stopped at a coaching inn, also the Grey Stag, to rest the horses and eat. I really don't like places where every inn is called after the local lord's badge. Lord Armile's militia were well in evidence as usual, galloping down the road with scant regard for anyone else. Enclosing the land had gone much further than the last time I'd been down this road: things were not looking good for the peasants here, significant numbers of whom were breaking rocks at the sides of the road for the work-bread. I was glad to realise we would only be cutting across the corner of the district.