“I’ll point him out.”
Looking out one of the small windows that opened on the inn’s interior courtyard, Kasimir studied the figure the lieutenant indicated-a gray-haired man, garbed in the drab clothing of a desert traveler, sitting on the rim of one of the courtyard’s two fountains, and talking to someone who might be another merchant. At this distance it was hard to get any very distinct impression.
Before descending to talk to the caller, Kasimir opened the note Komi had handed him. The message was recognizably in the writing of Wen Chang and seemed innocuous.
Kasimir-if you have no urgent reason to go out again, remain at the inn until I return, which will probably be before dark.
Ching Hao
Yes, it might very well be a communication from a merchant to his assistant. There was no hidden meaning that Kasimir could detect. He tossed the note carelessly on a table, almost hoping that some spy might find and read it- though he really doubted that any spy would be watching them at this stage of affairs.
In a moment he was going downstairs again.
When Kasimir came out into the courtyard, the man who waited by the fountain was alone, sitting patiently with folded arms. He got to his feet as Kasimir approached. Despite his gray hair and lined face, he was still erect and hale, of average height and build. The two men bowed, in the approved manner of polite strangers unsure of each other’s exact status. Kasimir was wishing silently that he had been able to learn something about antique weapons before undertaking to play the role of a dealer in them.
“I am Kasimir, secretary to the merchant Ching Hao. Can I be of service to you?”
“It may well be that you can, young man.” The elder nodded in a benign way; he had a gravelly voice, and a vague accent that Kasimir had trouble trying to define. “I am Tadasu Hazara, few in these parts know me, but in my own region I have something of a reputation of a collector of fine weapons. Having heard that your master was here, I decided to find out if he might have any of the specialized kind of weapons upon which my collection is centered.”
“And what kind of weapons are those, sir?”
“My chief interest lies in jeweled daggers of the Polemonic Epoch; also, if they are of the first quality, mail shirts of the bronze alloys made by the smiths of Aspinall.” The hands of the elder gestured; they were gnarled but strong, those of a man who had at some time done a great deal of physical work.
Kasimir assured the other, in perfect truthfulness, that Ching Hao had nothing like that in stock just now.
“Ah, that is too bad.” After considering for a moment, the gray-haired man announced that he was also unfortunately under the necessity of parting with one or two very old weapons that had once belonged to his father. Was the merchant thinking of purchasing anything just now?
“What sort of weapons are they?”
When it turned out that none of them was a sword, Kasimir, feeling that whatever more he did was likely to be a blunder, pronounced himself unable to make decisions on such matters. Tadasu would have to wait for the return of Ching Hao himself.
The visitor seemed annoyed at having spent his waiting time in the courtyard for nothing. After expressing his formal good wishes to Kasimir and his absent master he bowed again, more lightly this time, and walked on out of the courtyard, through the main entrance of the inn.
The rain had ended some time ago, the day was growing hot and muggy, and Kasimir would have returned to the comparative coolness of his upper room. But before he could leave the courtyard another prospective customer had appeared, forwarded to him by the helpful innkeeper. This latest potential customer was actually carrying with him a bundle in rough cloth that looked very much like a wrapped sword.
This man was much younger than the first, and appeared considerably more nervous. “You buy weapons?” he demanded tersely.
“That is our business.”
“I have a sword here.”
“Very good.” Kasimir attempted to sound confident. “If I may see the merchandise?”
The other man’s fingers hesitated on the wrappings. “If you like this weapon-it’s really something special-then you can give me cash for it this moment?”
Kasimir had to suppress his excitement. He had never seen any of the Twelve Swords, but he had no doubt of being able to recognize one of them if it should come his way.
Carefully he said: “I do not carry large amounts of coin on me, but still cash is readily available. If your sword there should prove to be something that I really want, then you may have money in hand for it before you are an hour older.”
After another few moments of cautious hesitancy, the potential customer unwrapped the sword he had brought with him. Kasimir knew bitter disappointment. When the weapon was at last shown it did not look spectacular-the hilt was not even black, nor had the steel of the blade the finely mottled look that everyone who had seen the genuine Swords remarked upon.
Then a thought struck the young physician. Having heard tales of magical alterations in the appearance of things, and having once, years ago, had actual experience of such a trick, he thought he had better apply one more test. Taking the cheap-looking weapon in hand, he made a trial of it against the stone edge of the fountain. The only result of this was an angry protest from the seller. What was Kasimir trying to do, ruin a fine blade?
By the time Kasimir had succeeded in soothing the angry man, and sending him on his way with his precious sword, sunset was near. Leaving the courtyard that was already deep in shadow, Kasimir looked in on the innkeeper and gave orders that a warm bath be brought to him in his upper room, with dinner to follow. Then he went plodding up the stairs. Over the past several hours, his earlier feeling that the investigation was making progress had gradually faded into a sense of impatience and futility.
The bathtub had been taken away again and he was just finishing his solitary dinner when the sound of feet ascending briskly on the stairs made him turn his head. But instead of the familiar countenance of Wen Chang or Komi, there appeared in the doorway, just at the top of the stairs, the visage of a scowling beggar.
Kasimir immediately reached for his dagger, and was about to bawl an oath downstairs at Komi for having allowed this stranger to get past him when the beggar called out a greeting in the voice of Wen Chang.
Kasimir’s hand holding the dagger fell to his side. “You! But-is this magic?”
“Only a touch of magic, perhaps, here and there.” The figure of the beggar doffed its ragged outer coat.
“Why such a marvelous disguise?”
“It is sometimes necessary to gather information on the streets,” the Magistrate said, his voice a little muffled in the process of pulling off the shaggy gray facial hair that had concealed his own neat mustache along with most of his lower face.
“I never would have known you!”
“I trust not.” With another muffled grunt the older man now tugged off a sticky something that had altered the shape of his nose and cheekbones, and tossed this flesh-colored object on the table along with his wig and beard. Now undeniably Wen Chang again, he straightened his back and stretched.
“Now,” the Magistrate continued in a clear tone of satisfaction, “we must exchange information. My day has been a long and trying one. The beggars’ spaces at the Great Gate are considered most desirable, but they are too jealously guarded and fought over for an outsider like myself to have any chance of forcing his way in. The same situation obtained in Swordsmiths’ Lane, and again behind the Courts of Justice, where there was much rumor mongering over the matter of the execution two days hence. But as it turned out, all those difficulties were undoubtedly for the best. When I finally found a place to put down my begging bowl, in the vicinity of the Blue Temple, I learned something that may prove useful to us indeed.”
Kasimir could readily understand why there was no surplus of beggars near the Blue Temple, whose priests and worshippers alike were notoriously stingy. He asked: “And what was this most useful thing you learned?”
“Have you ever heard of the famous diamond, the Great Orb of Maecenas?”
“I admit that I have not.”
“If you, Kasimir, were a lapidarist, or a jewel thief, or a priest in the Blue Temple, you would certainly give a different answer to that question. Know, then, that such a diamond exists, that it has recently been brought to the Blue Temple of Eylau in secret, and that it is there to be carved into several smaller stones in the hope of thereby increasing its total value. This is obviously a matter of concern to us, for it is certain that the Sword can be used in the precise cutting of small stones as well as great. But before we discuss that any further, tell me of your day. What did you discover at the Red Temple?”