Masquerades - Kate Novak [98]
"Actually," Olive said, lifting a false bottom out of the secret drawer and pulling out yet a third ledger, "we've caught ourselves a big Night Mask who cheats. First ledger for the law, second ledger for his criminal cohorts and bosses, third ledger-well, that will have the numbers closest to reality. Melman was not only skimming off the top, but he was collecting outside his own territory. Here's today's entry from One-Eye in the second ledger. Two hundred gold, Gateside Protection, it says. In the third ledger it's entered as three hundred gold, Gateside and the Shore."
"Let's see if Melman is interested in talking about his books," Alias suggested.
Just as the adventurers began climbing the stairs, they encountered their man turning on the landing, coming down toward them. He was dressed in a long nightshirt and slippers, and oddly enough, a full cloak with a very deep hood, which concealed his features.
For such a heavy man Melman moved very quickly. The moment he spotted them, he grabbed from the landing a halfling-sized urn filled with dried flowers, tossed it down the stairs, and bolted back up to the second story.
Dragonbait dodged aside, but longer-legged Alias leaped over the obstacle and charged after her prey. Olive caught the urn and fell back down the stairs with a curse and a crash.
In the upstairs hallway, Alias caught sight of Melman disappearing into the only lit room in the house. He tried to slam the bedroom door closed, but he caught his cloak in the door frame and was forced to reopen it to pull the robe free. Alias threw herself against the door before the Night Mask could manage to lock it.
The force of the swordswoman's entry flung the vintner into the center of the room. His hood fell back, revealing his face, and Alias felt her throat constrict in horror.
This must be what Jamal had meant when she spoke of the branded ones, Alias realized. Melman's face was hideously burned all about his eyes, in the shape of a domino mask. The damaged flesh was covered with great white blisters and bright red all about the edges. Blisters even covered his eyelids, and in the brightly candle-lit bedroom his eyes squinted as if the light pained them.
Alias recovered quickly from her shock and leveled her sword at the man's chest.
"It's you! Alias the Sell-Sword!" Melman gasped. "When I saw you on the stairs I thought you were a burglar," he explained. Meekly, he raised both hands, shaking back his sleeves to reveal there were no weapons concealed there.
"I'm glad to see you recognize me, Master Melman," the swordswoman said. "We have a lot to talk about."
"I haven't got anything to say to you," the vintner insisted.
Dragonbait and Olive entered the room.
Olive whistled at the sight of Melman's brand. "I can see why he needed a priestess," the halfling muttered.
"The rest of the house is empty," the paladin reported in Saurial.
"I can summon the watch, you know. You're all trespassing!" Melman declared, his voice rising in pitch.
"It appears you've let all the servants have the night off," Alias noted. "Didn't want them to catch sight of your face? No matter. I'm sure Olive will be glad to fetch the watch for you… if you're serious. The watch will probably be fascinated with the trove of treasure you've got downstairs. Especially those pieces that are undeniably stolen property. Then, too, there are the ledgers. So many different accounting books."
Olive made for the door, suppressing a grin, but she halted when Melman called out, "No need for that. What do you want? As you already saw, I can offer you a great deal."
Alias motioned for Melman to have a seat. "What I want from you, Master Melman, is information. Let's start with the Faceless."
Melman sat down on the bed. "Who?" the vintner asked, but there was a quiver in his voice that belied his ignorance.
Alias leaned forward. "The Faceless, Master Melman. You remember him. He's the man who burned your face."
"This," Melman said, pointing to his face. "An accident. Walked into a torch."
"Very