Chapter 330: Gildusi Noir (1/2)
On a street corner on the third level of Gildusi, two individuals were meeting. To the casual observer they might seem to be merely a fruit seller and a customer, but there was something far more sinister going on. For you see, the customer was an agent meeting up with his handler, passing off information and receiving his next mission.
”Wait a minute, all that guy did was buy a few apples and pay for them. How did you get all that from a two minute exchange?” Julia asked dryly, interrupting Dorn's narrative. She was lazily sipping from her mug of Chalis Tea while reclining in the chair of the cafe they were currently sitting in.
With her tall, stocky body forged by a childhood spent on a farm and her round, plain featured face, it would have been hard to call her a beauty. Nevertheless, she had a cheerful and pleasant personality that had made her fairly popular, and by extension had given her bakery a decent measure of success.
The man sitting across from her could not have been more different. Short, skinny, and sickly looking, he had the pale skin and ink-stained fingers of a scribe. Were it not for the obvious caking of dirt on his cheaply made clothes, one could easily think him some low level functionary in a guild or counting house. And that would not be far from the truth. If not for a recent career change, the man would have likely still been working in candlelit depths of the Merchant's Guild.
Dorn scowled and looked over at his old friend. ”That's exactly what they want you to think. Obviously, they've developed a series of coded phrases to better disguise their messages. Like if the agent asks if the Fulinti Pears are ripe this season, he really means something like, are the authorities on to me? Then the handler will respond yes or no depending on the situation.”
”I could see that working for simple things, I suppose, but how is the agent supposed to pass along his intelligence, then? Are you telling me they have different phrases memorized for all eventualities? Seems like it would be pretty hard to keep them straight.”
Carefully setting down his quill so that it wouldn't stain his meticulously kept notes, he growled back in response. ”Of course they wouldn't use code words for everything. That would be ridiculous.”
”...Oh, THAT'S ridiculous.” She murmured in response, but he chose to ignore it.
”The real information would get passed along in ciphered letters that the agent gives to the handler along with the money he's using to buy the fruit. Maybe they would even go so far as to etch the message onto the coins themselves. The only way to know for sure would be to drag them in for questioning.”
Dorn stared at the fruit seller as if willing the man to give himself up, but the only thing the merchant did was sit back down on his stool and return to casually watching for his next customer. ”I still don't see why the White Lions won't take my investigation seriously. Surely they of all people should be concerned about the nefarious presence worming its way into the fabric of our society.”
Julia snickered softly, but maintained a straight face when he turned to glare at her again.
”I'm being serious here. There is a very real threat to our city, and the powers that be are willfully ignoring it!”
”Yes, yes. You are Gildusi's last bastion of resistance against the horrors of...what was it again?”
Dorn stood suddenly, almost overturning the flimsy wooden table they were sitting at. ”The Shadow Council! Or so I've taken to calling them, anyway. Those nefarious fiends are seeking to destroy this city!.”
Julia nodded along, she knew that she probably shouldn't be humoring his delusions, but she couldn't think of a better way to handle them. ”Right, right. That's the one. Out of curiosity, how much longer are you planning on watching this fruit seller? I have to be back at the store pretty soon.”
”While I would gladly spend all day to uncover their evil plots,” He started before gradually deflating, ”I'll need to head to the garrison soon as well.”
”Are they still having you dig latrines?” She asked, a hint of sympathy entering her voice.
He nodded, the volume of his voice falling. ”For now, but any day...any day now the Lions will surely…”
Julia patted his shoulder comfortingly. ”Well, who knows? If you keep working at it, and don't complain, maybe they'll reconsider the assignment and put you to work doing something more in line with your skills.”
”Yeah.” He agreed hesitantly. Clearly he didn't fully believe her.
”Just give it some more time.”
”Yeah…” He mumbled lamely. ”If only I could get a lead on this spy ring. Maybe then they would take me seriously.”
She doubted it, since the Lions were famous for their prejudice towards anyone without a combat related class, but she didn't think it was time to shake him of his delusions just yet. A part of her was afraid of what might happen to him when he finally realized that his dreams were impossible. Considering his personality, Dorn could very well collapse.
[Maybe I should try to get him to go back to his old job?]
”You know, I bet the guild would still take you-”
”My gods! It's really starting!” He exclaimed while standing, cutting her off in mid-sentence.
”What? What is it?” She asked, alarmed by the intensity of the emotions that were playing out across his face.
”The war! The battle for the soul of the city! It's finally starting!” He yelled excitedly, although no amount of bravado could hide the tremor running through his limbs. One shaking hand was thrown out to point in the direction of the fruit seller.
For a moment, Julia thought he must have finally started hallucinating, but then she realized that the man was slumped over in a very unnatural position and a large amount of what looked like blood was pouring down his chest from his slit throat.
”When...when did that happen?” She whispered absently, the full horror of the situation not quite taking hold of her yet.
”Just now. A hooded figure slipped past him, just barely brushing his neck with a blade, before moving on calmly and without any hurry.” He replied earnestly. Something about his manner of speech made him sound awed, almost respectful of the murderer, but she hoped that was merely her imagination.
”Guards...we need to call the...Guards!” She raised her voice, drawing attention to herself from the few passersby that were still out during the heat of the day. ”Murder! There's been a murder!”