The men locked their room, returned downstairs, and left the inn by the back door, using the excuse of wanting to check their horses.
A sylph boy, still well short of maturity, stood at a bench where he polished their leather tack. He smiled a welcome as he glanced over his shoulder, but an older human stepped forward to greet them.
"You must be Yadder," said Sallis.
The stablehand nodded. "That's me. Your animal is in there. And yours is here."
Sallis followed the man's nod and looked into the stall where Glyder happily munched oats. He shook his head in greeting as Sallis stepped into the stall, but his nose stayed in the feeding trough. Sallis quickly checked each hoof, just in case.
Yadder smiled. "Already done that," he said, while Sallis worked, "but it's always good to see a man check over his own horse."
Sallis patted Glyder's flank. "He's a good lad," he replied. "The least he deserves. Is there a way onto the street from here?"
"Sure, this way."
"Coming, Oston?" asked Sallis.
Oston looked up from Hammer. "Yes. Now we're here, why not look around?"
Once in the alley behind the inn, Sallis swung his long brown cloak over his shoulders, but kept the hood down. "The thief is somewhere in the city. Let's find out where he's been before we watch the gates. Can you walk all right?"
Oston nodded. "I'm not that sore," he replied.
Sallis retraced his steps until he picked up the trail again. Istwan only had two gates, so Sallis knew in moments that his quarry remained somewhere in the city. He resisted the temptation to follow the trail to its end, wanting to check everything first.
Now he must take even more care than before. One clumsy move could lead to the thief's escape.
"We can take him tonight," said Oston. "He's got nowhere to run once the gates are locked."
"You're thinking like a Guardsman," countered Sallis.
"Got some news for you, I am a Guardsman."
"I noticed." Sallis grinned. "Best to capture the target outside the city."
"Why?"
"Much less fuss that way," replied Sallis. "We don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves when we take him. Thought so: the trail leads to what I suspect is a depository."
Oston stared at the building before them and eyed the lettering carved into the door lintel.
"Now I know you can read," he remarked. "Surprised they teach you how on your little island."
"You might be surprised what they teach us on our 'little island'," retorted Sallis. He pretended to give Oston a closer inspection. "Or perhaps not."
"One day, you will be taught a lesson you won't soon forget," promised Oston.
Sallis gave the older man a tolerant smile. "When we have our man, I suppose the Guard will send riders to recover what they can."
"They might try," replied Oston. "More likely, the valuables are now sold and this depository has the coin instead."
"True," admitted Sallis.
The trail led between the depository and a couple of goldsmiths, where he noted still more sylphs at work. These belonged to the goldsmiths, their nimble fingers working on jewelry.
Sallis had no real interest in whatever the thief had stolen; recovering that was the City Guard's problem. All he wanted was the thief.
"Now where are we going?" asked Oston.
"Let's find where our man's staying," replied Sallis.
The trail led to a residential area within the walls, with maintained and neatly painted buildings hemming in the road. Not quite rich, but not exactly poor either.
"Behind this terrace," said Sallis.
Both men walked along the alley as if they belonged there. Sallis felt the thrill of the chase surge as he sensed his target's proximity.
"This alley's wider than most," remarked Oston.
Sallis paused at the back of some stables. "Intentionally so," he replied. "From the marks, they bring carriages along here quite regularly."
"Is this it?" asked Oston.
Sallis nodded. "Can't see in," he muttered. "Doesn't matter, this is the place."
"Where you going now?" complained Oston, as Sallis straightened and returned to the road again. They walked slowly past the front of the terrace.
"He's in that house," whispered Sallis.
"Perhaps this is where he lives."
"Doubtful."
"Impress me."
They continued walking and Sallis finally spoke. "He will deposit his stolen goods in a different town from where he lives. If anyone follows him, he does not want them to know where he's from."
"You've followed him," pointed out Oston. "If he's really here."
"I used the Gift," replied Sallis. "And he's really here."
Sallis realized he dealt with a man almost as careful as himself. The thief still expected someone to follow, but he clearly felt safe. The only thing his quarry had overlooked was the possibility of someone Gifted being set on his tail.
But the thief had never dealt with anybody like Sallis before.
"Right, we split up and go to the gates."
"What if he leaves?" asked Oston.
"Then we follow in the morning. You take the north end and I'll take the south."
"We've never seen him, so how will I recognize him? I'm not Gifted."
"Unfortunately." Sallis grinned. "Perhaps Senator Olista will rectify his omission next time he wants to send a chaperone. Keep an eye out for a tall chestnut horse and tell me later if you've seen one leave."
"He's running south; that's the gate he'll leave by."
"Yes," replied Sallis, "which is why you've got the north gate. I'm the bounty hunter and no plodder from the Guard is about to steal my reward money."
Oston almost snarled. "I hope he cracks your head," he said, before stalking away towards his allocated gate.
Sallis grinned and headed the opposite direction. He walked casually and hoped nobody would think he was out of place. Even Istwan had a Guard and he had no wish to become one of its customers. Something else caught his attention before he had walked a couple of streets and he thought it was well worth the distraction.
Sallis had always known such places existed. He had walked past the entrances of those in Taura, Calcan and, more recently, Marka, but he had never before actually seen sylphs for sale. Twice as wide as the average shop he had seen in Istwan, about twenty sylphs sat in front of the flesh market.
Each wore a simple tunic of undyed wool and crouched or sat on mats. They appeared far from unhappy; erect earpoints twitched contentedly and silver-gray eyes shone with the joy of living.
The mats looked comfortable and earpoints twitched further upright whenever somebody walked past. Sallis blinked, seeing each sylph had a manacle clamped around one ankle, from which a chain led to a ring set in the wall. They sat in silence, perhaps unsurprising in a taciturn species, but looked eager whenever somebody came near.
The watching Sallis felt deeply uncomfortable.
His native Re Annan had some sylphs, and Sallis assumed they must be chattels, but there was no market on the island. Anybody who wanted a sylph must travel at least as far as Re Taura.
Did Lyssan begin life like this? Do they all pass through this abomination?
The infertiles began to take notice of him. Heads turned and earpoints slanted his way, silver eyes looking hopeful and solemn all at once. Sallis watched a man leave the shop and stare towards him.
"Is young sir looking for a sylph?" he asked.
Sallis crossed the road.
"Two males and two females," he replied. "Breeder females, not infertiles. And they'll be going offshore."
The man looked disappointed. For that matter, the sylphs looked disappointed.
"I see," he said, after a long pause. He glanced at the infertiles and his gaze appeared genuinely sympathetic. "I only have infertiles. Breeders only come to my market when somebody gets their litters confused. And never males."
"Litters confused?" as
ked Sallis.
The man shrugged. "Some breeders are born as triplets and are often assumed to be infertiles. By the time anyone spots the mistake, it's usually too late. Quite a few folk end up with a breeder instead of an infertile."
"So long as I end up with breeders and not infertiles," replied Sallis.
"Try Marka," suggested the man, "larger city, two days north-ish. Retel's stud has got a good reputation; they never get their litters confused. When you say offshore, where exactly do you have in mind?"
"Re Annan."
The man pursed his lips and shook his head. "Buy them at the port nearest Re Annan," he said. "Sylphs do not usually enjoy traveling overseas."
"Then why does every ship have a sylph of its own?"
"There are always exceptions, but sylphs generally don't like wide, open spaces. They don't come much more open or wider than the sea. You say you want male and female sylphs? I recommend you try stud farms, but even then you'll be lucky if you find a single male for sale, never mind two. I'm not saying it never happens, but you'll be lucky."
"All right, I'll try in Calcan, or in Taura."
"You do that, young sir." The man smiled. "Much better for the sylphs' welfare that way. Keep the traveling right down."
Sallis smiled at the infertiles. They really were quite endearing and that one, with eyes huge in her face, was on the verge of melting his heart... He dragged his gaze away. "Why are they chained?" he asked. "Afraid they might run away?"
"No," replied the trader. "Afraid they might be stolen."
Moving on, Sallis circled around the street where the thief had taken refuge, certain he had not stirred from the house. Finally reaching his destination, he loitered until the men on duty shut and barred the gate for the night.
Satisfied the thief would go nowhere tonight, he returned to The Hooded Falcon. When Oston rejoined him, it would be time to eat.
But he couldn't push the sylph-market from his thoughts.
***
Chapter 12 - Taken
Sallis and Oston ate their breakfast of oatcakes slowly, pausing to sip at alovak. As the only guests, Fessan and Mellan fussed incessantly over them. Had they enough to eat? Was the alovak brewed to their taste? Might they not like to stay another night? Had they slept well?
The questions came out in the wrong order, which suggested a level of inexperience. Or perhaps the sylphs had been expected to learn them, but in no particular order. Ranessa eventually chased them out of the dining room when she saw their persistent questions bothered Oston.
"I'm sorry, sir," she apologized, "but they are still learning."
"Thought you might be experienced at the innkeeping game by now," muttered Oston.
Ranessa laughed. "Both my maids married last year, which hasn't happened before. The other inns report that sylphs work well, so I bought two at the same time. Decided to give 'em a try."
"Where do you buy your sylphs from?" asked Sallis, a thought coming to him.
"The market in town here, it has a good reputation," replied Ranessa.
"And the lad in the stable?"
"Guyle? We borrowed him from my brother, who runs a stud outside Cadister. The lad showed an aptitude for horses, so we've borrowed him until I can get another stableboy. Sadly, he's got to go home soon. If I could, I'd keep him."
Sallis had stopped listening after the first sentence. So the flesh-trader had not lied. "Well, I think your sylphs do work well," he said.
"I've not heard any complaints," said Ranessa.
Once they finished their breakfast, Sallis thanked Ranessa again before following Oston to the stables. Yadder had already saddled both horses and their tack shone. The ostler had just led Glyder out and the horse tossed his head as Yadder petted him.
"Fickle beast," grumbled Sallis.
Yadder laughed. "A real friendly horse," he said. "Been a pleasure to look after him. Both of them."
Sallis doubted if Hammer had been as friendly to look after, though the black gelding was no warhorse.
"Thank you," said Sallis, and pressed a few silver pennies into Yadder's hand.
"No need for that." Yadder looked embarrassed. "It's all in the fee Ranessa charged."
"Keep them," smiled Sallis. "It's for looking after Glyder and a little something for Guyle as thanks for his work on the tack."
Sallis suspected the sylph would see none of the coins.
"Well, thank you, sir," said Yadder.
They left the stable and Oston's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing now?"
"You are one suspicious character," complained Sallis, as he mounted Glyder. "How did you end up in the Guard?"
"It's my job to be suspicious." Oston sniffed and took two attempts to clamber onto Hammer's back. "And I'm still waiting to see you fall."
"Well, let's take a little jaunt to make sure our friend is still in the city," said Sallis. "Just in case he's an early riser."
Oston grinned. "And if he's gone?"
"Then we follow."
Sallis rode quietly back to the terrace and paused at the end of the street.
"He's still there," said Sallis, pleased.
"How do you know?" demanded Oston.
Sallis shook his head. "You still don't believe what I can do," he said. "It doesn't matter. He's still in there because there are no fresh tracks to follow. He hasn't left that house since yesterday."
"He will sooner or later," said Oston.
"Unless he's stupid enough to live in the same town he banks in. Dangerous, given his profession."
"I still think that's his house," said Oston. "Maybe we should pay him a visit."
Sallis shrugged. "I doubt it. It might belong to a friend or relative. This is the first reasonable size town out of Marka and somewhere for him to hide. And when we do take him, we want no unwelcome attention from the authorities here, so there will be no calling on the house."
"Will we follow him out of the city?" asked Oston, eager for some action.
"No. We'll wait for him outside the gates."
Oston said nothing, but a raised eyebrow betrayed a lack of enthusiasm for this plan.
Less than an hour later, the men left the city, weapons in place and hoods pulled forward to hide their faces.
"They'll remember the hoods, but not the faces," Sallis said, when Oston tried to argue.
"One of us should keep an eye on the other gate," said Oston.
"He's headed south."
"He might pull a turnaround. See it happen all the time."
"He might," agreed Sallis, "but how will we communicate to each other without him hearing us?"
"Well, you'll be wasting time if he does head north again."
"I can catch him again," insisted Sallis. "It doesn't matter how far or how long he runs. Until I touch him, I can sense where he's been and follow him anywhere in the world. He'll leave Istwan, probably immediately before the gates close, and we'll be waiting for him... in there."
Oston stared at the forest that stood perhaps a mila or so outside the city walls. "You've done this before," he said.
"Of course."
"You're taking a gamble," Oston warned.
"An informed guess," retorted Sallis.
Oston followed as Sallis rode into the forest and turned off the road. The men ensured their animals were comfortable, kept swords and staff within easy reach, and waited.
And waited...
As the sun reached its meridian, Sallis pulled free some of the provisions he'd bought in the town and shared them with Oston. The older man was so skeptical of the plan that even Sallis began to wonder if he'd guessed wrong.
After eating, Oston insisted that Sallis make a circuit around Istwan, certain that the thief had left the city through the other gate. Sallis eventually agreed, mostly to appease his companion, but also because his companion was putting doubts into his young mind.
Oston wanted to come with him, but Sallis insisted he stayed to keep an eye on this gate. Sallis set off, but didn'
t return to the city, instead moving around outside the walls, staying in the forest where possible to avoid prying eyes.
"Nothing," he told Oston, when he returned. "And I'm not going around again. Anybody leave while I was gone?"
"No lone horsemen," replied Oston. "A merchant caravan and two farmers."
Sallis knew his quarry had not left Istwan, else he would have picked up tracks.
"Is he leaving today?" Oston questioned. "Will we be sleeping here tonight?"
Sallis looked back to the town. "He'll leave, he must, or else he would have been caught years ago."
"Maybe." Oston could not keep disbelief from his voice.
The day wore on, and eventually a cluster of farm carts trundled out of Istwan, soon breaking away from the road proper to return to their farms. Sallis stared at the gates in frustration. They would close soon. He glanced left, where the sun already hung low in the sky.
"He's not coming out," announced Oston, in tones of deep satisfaction.
"Why have you stayed in there?" demanded Sallis aloud, trying to understand the thief's motives. "Why? You know the Guard will realize you've fled the city. You know they'll send bounty hunters."
"Maybe another bounty hunter has taken him," said Oston. He laughed. "When I said I wanted to see you fall, I didn't think it would be as good as this. Face it, Vayburn was right when he said you should join the Guard. You might be middling, eventually."
"No other bounty hunter shares my skills," insisted Sallis. Surely Sandev would have told him if any did share his abilities. But he had not checked their backtrail after leaving Marka, so what if other hunters had followed him?
A sobering thought.
One of the men on duty stepped out from the town to look along the road. Satisfied that nobody waited to come in, he looked over his shoulder and gestured.
Sallis stiffened. "This looks interesting," he said. "Get ready to move."
Oston ground his teeth as a solitary figure left the city, riding a tall chestnut horse. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?"
Sallis grinned. "No."
"Sure it's him?"
"The horse is the right color," replied Sallis, "but we must wait for him to pass before I can be certain."
"So you're not sure?"
"It's him," said Sallis, "but I must be certain. Unlike the others, I believe in justice."
"Clever devil," muttered Oston, referring to the rider of the chestnut.
By leaving the city so late, the thief had guaranteed any pursuit would be holed up inside until dawn.
"Patience pays off every time," remarked Sallis. "His is a good trick, but not good enough."