Masquerades - Kate Novak [27]
Alias took a deep breath and read on. " 'Your recent activities against the criminal organization known as the Night Masks have come to our attention. We wish to discuss with you the possibility of continued employment in that capacity on our behalf. If you are interested in such, a manservant will escort you to our present location for discussions. Such dealings will undoubtedly be extremely profitable for you, and we strongly recommend you avail yourself of this opportunity. My servant is instructed to await a reply. Yours sincerely, Luer Dhostar, Croamarkh of Westgate.'"
Alias let the missive drape delicately from one hand, "What do you think?"
"Last night you wanted to take the first boat back. You said you didn't want to be a cheap hero," Dragonbait pointed out.
"Ah, but the croamarkh isn't offering us the job of cheap hero. He's giving us the chance to be 'extremely profitable' heroes."
"We don't needmoney."
"But I like to think my services are worth money," Alias pointed out. "Lots of money. You're just hurt that he called you a lizardman," she teased.
Dragonbait sniffed with disdain. "He sounds like the sort of merchant who thinks everything can be solved by throwing money at it. The Night Masks are not a simple problem."
"Could take us more than a few weeks," Alias agreed cockily.
Dragonbait laughed and shook his head.
"Look," Alias cajoled, "Grypht isn't expecting us back immediately, and I know you miss CopperBloom, but it couldn't hurt to hear what the man has to say."
"Maybe not," the paladin replied dourly.
"I'll need a bath if I'm going to be presented to the croamarkh," the swordswoman declared, hopping off the bed.
Dragonbait pulled a guest bathrobe from the armoire and tossed it to her. There was a tiny rap on the door frame. Alias draped the robe over her arm and pulled open the door. A tray of fruit, muffins, and tea sat on the floor.
"Complimentary breakfast," Alias noted, looking down the hallway. "Where's the server?"
"She's shy," the paladin explained, picking up the tray, "but very sweet."
"Is she now?" Alias asked. It was rare that the saurial made that sort of compliment. "Well, you'll have to introduce us when I've finished my bath."
"What about this servant waiting downstairs?" asked Dragonbait.
"Dhostar said he'll wait for our reply. Let him wait."
Alias slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Dragonbait could hear her launching into a bawdy folk song involving dryads and paladins, as she went in search of the bath.
Dragonbait picked up the croamarkh's letter and sniffed. He couldn't use his shensight on a soulless object, and while he'd joked about the smell of corruption, the only scents he could detect were paper, ink, and wax. Still, the letter made him uneasy.
"Westgate," Alias explained to Dragonbait, while she stuffed down a breakfast roll and slipped into a clean tunic, "is ruled by a council consisting of representatives of all the major trading families, along with a cluster of minor houses. No one else gets a vote in council, not craftsmen, not shopkeepers, not tavern owners, no one, not even persons like Mintassan. Most of the council's power is invested in the croamarkh. Luer Dhostar was elected by the council to three terms as croamarkh, before he was forced to yield to Lansdal Ssemm for a term. No one had really been happy with Lansdal, and during his term interfamily feuding and Night Mask violence was worse than ever. Last spring Luer Dhostar convinced the other families that only he could organize the chaos left by Lansdal, and he was returned to his former office.
"Besides his duty to the city of Westgate, Luer Dhostar oversees a mercantile empire consisting of twelve ships, twenty-four stockyards and warehouses, nine caravans, fifty representatives in other cities across