Shells

"One day you shall have to tell me stories about my predecessor," Vira said genially. "But for now, I am most interested in how I can make myself of use to Shells. I have heard rumors of fish thieves in your waters. Is that true?"

Vira shook her head. "And when winter comes there will be even fewer of the red drum fish. Do these fishermen come from neighboring villages, do you know? Or is it more of a large scale pirating operation?"

"They must be from other villages then," she mused. "I am sure you know all the fishermen in Shells, reeve. Do you know of any who had their permits stolen?"

Vira thanks the reeve and debated whether to go to the tavern, the only one in the village, or to the fishermen's huts. She decided on the huts, and visited Wat Fishface first.

"The rider of the Ghost," Vira replied, without wasting time. "And someone who wishes to help you. I've been speaking with the reeve. I heard your fishing permit was robbed from you? Can you describe the men who did it?"

"Can you describe them at all?" she asked. "Do you remember where they stopped you? Was it at the docks? At the tavern?"

"And Tiny Tom?" she asked. "Did he get jumped on at the tavern as well?"

Vira told herself that this was one aspect of village life that she would not miss. "I can't count past my fingers either," she lied sweetly. "Thank you, goodman."

She turned and left the hut, making her way to the small wooden tavern. It had likely stood in the town for centuries, humble as it was, it's roof blackened with the smoke of a thousand fires. There was a fire roaring at the hearth when she went in. She pulled her hood up so that her face would be less visible, took a table in the corner, ordered mussels steamed in beer and a cup of well water. She planned to enjoy the fresh food, and wait for night to fall, which she judged would happen quite shortly.

She continued to eat and ordered more well water, and waited for evening to fall so that the tavern to empty. It seemed to her that this was the time that the thieves were most likely to strike - a near-empty, tired tavern, and their victims too drunk to defend themselves.

She pretended not to hear him and drank her well water. Underneath her cloak was an axe that she had robbed from the sept graveyard the previous day, but it was well hidden.

She moved her head very slightly so that only he could hear what she said next.

"I'll only come if you invite your friends," she whispered. "Got bills to pay, children to feed. And that's two coppers each."