“I don’t know…” the stringy haired woman stammered, collapsing into the chair Pubby offered, dripping water onto the floor from her tattered, rain-wet dress, out of breath and clearly frightened although she refused again to report what she was afraid of. “There wasn’t a name…he just said there would be an assassination attempt on Laedan Channon…that I should tell you and that someone needed to be there to stop it.
“No details? Nothing else?”
“No, sirra…just that you’d catch it at the Fortress gate, if you got there in time…”
“What time?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t say. Just said he’d kill me if I didn’t bring the message to the Chief…”
Pubby, half sitting on the corner of his desk, fiddled with the papers beside him as he considered her story and studied her face. He did not have Segara’s gift for reading people and objects, but he did have a good enough sense of people’s truthfulness to have kept him alive so far, good enough to steer him in the direction of the chief’s chair if his fortune continued to hold. This claim of impending assassination could meant to lure either the chief or Vance into a trap. From what he knew about the fellow Nepo, it seemed the sort of thing the tracker would do to get the upper hand on Vance. He could ignore the report, he could take it to the chief and tracker, wherever they were, or wait for their return.
Or he could take care of the matter himself.
“Can you lead me to where he was?”
The woman nodded and shrugged simultaneously. “Front of the Fortress Gates. S’all he said…sept you couldn’t miss it if you get there in time.”
He stood up, dragged his coat off of the back of his chair, and said, “Let’s go then.” His plan had been to remain at the Protectorate until the Chief got back. He did not think there was time to wait or look for anyone else. If anyone died, it was going to be on him. It was up to him to make sure nothing happened.
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Date: 2025-01-26 10:18 pm (UTC)Got them both in:
“I don’t know…” the stringy haired woman stammered, collapsing into the chair Pubby offered, dripping water onto the floor from her tattered, rain-wet dress, out of breath and clearly frightened although she refused again to report what she was afraid of. “There wasn’t a name…he just said there would be an assassination attempt on Laedan Channon…that I should tell you and that someone needed to be there to stop it.
“No details? Nothing else?”
“No, sirra…just that you’d catch it at the Fortress gate, if you got there in time…”
“What time?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t say. Just said he’d kill me if I didn’t bring the message to the Chief…”
Pubby, half sitting on the corner of his desk, fiddled with the papers beside him as he considered her story and studied her face. He did not have Segara’s gift for reading people and objects, but he did have a good enough sense of people’s truthfulness to have kept him alive so far, good enough to steer him in the direction of the chief’s chair if his fortune continued to hold. This claim of impending assassination could meant to lure either the chief or Vance into a trap. From what he knew about the fellow Nepo, it seemed the sort of thing the tracker would do to get the upper hand on Vance. He could ignore the report, he could take it to the chief and tracker, wherever they were, or wait for their return.
Or he could take care of the matter himself.
“Can you lead me to where he was?”
The woman nodded and shrugged simultaneously. “Front of the Fortress Gates. S’all he said…sept you couldn’t miss it if you get there in time.”
He stood up, dragged his coat off of the back of his chair, and said, “Let’s go then.” His plan had been to remain at the Protectorate until the Chief got back. He did not think there was time to wait or look for anyone else. If anyone died, it was going to be on him. It was up to him to make sure nothing happened.