Murder in Cormyr - Chet Williamson [27]
I had stayed out of the way all the time, listening to Durn's conversation with his clients, which was minimal. He was a man of few words in the smithy and never once asked me what I was doing there. But when he was away from the anvil, he was among the most garrulous of men.
As the last client led his newly shod horse out of the smithy, Durn finally acknowledged me. "And what do you want, Jasper?"
"A word or two, Aunsible Durn, about Dovo."
Durn shook his head. "I don't know what grieves me more, his death or the fact that I have been without a helper all day long. Come upstairs and have a cup of tea with me."
We climbed the round staircase in the corner of the smithy, up past the second floor lofts where Durn stored his supplies, and stopped on the top floor, a modest apartment where Durn lived alone. As he brewed a tea that reeked strongly of seaweed, I explained my mission to him, and we talked about Dovo.
"He was a good worker, for all his other faults," Durn said. "The gods know I missed him terribly today. Yes, he would be off at the taverns roistering away, but never when there was work to be done. Still, I pity his wife and children. He paid little attention to them when he was alive, and now they shall not even have the comfort of his salary since he is dead. Though perhaps," he added roughly, "I can help in some way."
"You heard he was playing the ghost?"
Durn gave a snort of disgust. "Aye, just like him. Always on the lookout for a prank or a jest. He tried that here the first week he worked for me. Put a burr under his friend Argys Krai's saddle. When Argys mounted, the mare went crazy and threw him off. I let Dovo know in no uncertain terms"-Durn pounded a fist into his palm-"that type of behavior would not be tolerated in my smithy. He never gave me trouble after."
"Did he ever say anything about the ghost to you?"
"He said he saw it. In fact, I believe he was the first one- setting everyone up for his little joke. Must've been, oh, back in Mirtul, four months ago. Told me, and probably everybody in the tavern, that Fastred's ghost had come out at him one night while he was riding home from the Swamp Rat. Said it took a great swing at him with its axe, and showed a cut in his cloak to prove it. Got a lot of mileage out of that story, he did, and made everyone nervous enough that they were ready to see a ghost even without him pretending to be one. Guess somebody didn't think it was very funny."
"True enough," I said. "I know that he was quite a hand with the ladies. Is there anyone you can think of who might have wished him ill?"
"Husbands and suitors, you mean? T'would be a long line, I fear. I know little about the details of his romances. That was another thing I told him right off to keep out of the smithy. If his philandering lost me customers, I would let him go. But that never happened." Durn shrugged his heavy shoulders. "People here have little choice. They either come to me or ride all the way to Hultail, and the smith there is… well, no artist with an anvil."
The tea was finished steeping, and he proudly presented me with a cup. I took a sip. It smelled like seaweed but tasted like… decomposed seaweed. I smiled and nodded anyway and made myself take another sip.
"You know," Durn said after nearly draining his cup with one long, scalding swallow, "there is one lad who Dovo had a real rivalry with-that Rolf. Rolf the Roofer, Dovo always called him."
"Yes," I said. "The one who's got his cap set for Mayella Meadowbrock."
"That's him. A stout worker, but an ill-tempered sort. Gets in fights nearly every week. His father was in the other day and told me he worries about him. Nearly beat a fellow to death over in Thunderstone. The other fellow started it, but Rolf sure enough finished it."
"Did Dovo ever mention him to you?"
"Oh, yes, told me he enjoyed playing up to Mayella just to drive Rolf wild." Durn cocked his head.