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The Fifth Knight(83)

By:E. M. Powell


Palmer went to the doorway and looked inside. Here, the jumble was worse. Huge metal weighing scales sat on the wooden counter with piles of parchments and papers, a songbird in a rusted cage, and one old leather boot.

Palmer met Theodosia’s glance, and she pulled an unimpressed face. “Hello?” he said, unsure if anyone was there.

A man rose from behind the counter, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He wouldn’t be much more than Palmer’s age but was not a man of action. His stained clothing stretched tight over rolls of soft flesh. Greasy hair clung at either side of his pale, puffy face.

“Yes? What?” For a heavy man, his voice didn’t match: high-pitched and close to a woman’s.

“I’m looking for Rodger Oswin,” said Palmer.

“I am he. Who might you be?”

“My name is Sir Benedict Palmer.”

“What is your business? Jewels? Wine?” He gave Theodosia a pointed look. “Silk?”

“None of these, sir,” said Palmer. “We’re trying to find my companion’s mother. She is due to sail to France in the next two days.”

Oswin rolled his eyes aloft. “You expect me to know who this woman is.” He addressed Theodosia. “Is your mother a merchant?”

“No, Mr. Oswin. She is not. But her companion is a Brother Edward Grim. Perhaps he arranged the sailing?”

Oswin sighed long and hard. “Is he a merchant?”

“No. He’s a holy brother,” she said.

“Then they’ll be nothing to do with me.” He waved a filthy hand to his papers. “My only concern is to get the rightful taxes owing from foreign merchants and our own good countrymen who bring in any kind of goods from abroad. A monk and a matron traveling to France are of no concern to me.” Sudden interest weaseled across his shiny face. “Unless they’re going to buy something valuable and bring it back?”

“Oh, please, sir.” Theodosia clasped her hands together. “Could you not check the sailings and see if you could tell us which vessel they might be on?”

“I could. But I won’t.” Oswin smirked at Theodosia’s beg. “I’m far too busy on the Crown’s business. Good day to you both.”

“Couldn’t you just — ”

“No, missy. I could not. Who do you think you are, plaguing me with questions, a tattered baggage like you? Now, clear off before I have you arrested for endangering an officer of His Grace.”

“Come, Theodosia.” Palmer brought her outside before he punched the oaf in the face.

“Oh, why couldn’t he look at the sailings?” She flung her hands up. “It would not have taken him long.”

“Because he was in too much of a hurry to get back to his flagon of wine under the counter.” Palmer’s steps treaded hard on the wooden dock. “Seized no doubt because someone couldn’t pay the toll. Like everything else he had piled around him, curse him. We’ll have to keep looking, asking.”

Theodosia stopped to pull the money pouch from her pocket. “There is another way to find what we need from Mr. Oswin.”

“Bribery? No luck with that. There’s only a couple of coins left. I had to leave almost everything at that tavern to secure the horses.”

She eyed the crowd. “Not bribery.” She darted from his side.

He tried to catch her up as she bent toward a filthy small lad.

“You look hungry, my sweet,” she said. “Have you eaten today?”

“No, mistress.”

“Would you like to earn this coin?” She held it up and his eyes lit.

“Yes, mistress.” A wary look. “How, mistress?”

“All I want you to do is go into Reeve Oswin’s office and tell him you saw a Saracen steal off that ship, carrying a large sack.”

“Which ship?” The lad stuck his head around her muddy skirts to get a better view.

“Theodosia, don’t annoy the reeve any more,” said Palmer. “He wouldn’t think twice about having us arrested.”

She ignored him. “The one where the barrels are being unloaded,” she said to the boy.

“That’s all?” said the boy.

“That’s all,” she said.

The lad gave her a huge grin, pocketed the coin, and sped off.

“Didn’t you heed a word I said?” said Palmer.

“Of course,” she said. “Hurry, we do not have a lot of time.” She led the way back to Oswin’s rooms, but with a hand to Palmer’s arm, hung back in the shelter of the crowd.

The boy went inside, and within seconds, Oswin waddled out, face dark with outrage. He hurried down the quay toward the unloading vessel, deep huffs with every step.