Hetgarib's Curse by C. M. Alongi

Author:C. M. Alongi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C. M. Alongi

SPARROW STATION WAS one of the nicer messenger stations Jinua had seen. The long stone building contained a barracks and stable, a place for messengers and their horses (if they were rich enough to have one) to rest, eat, and gossip before continuing on their journey.

The main room served as a meeting and gathering for messengers. Food lined a table in the back, a spread of water pitchers, baked trout, bread, cheese, olives, and raisins. Simple, but nutritious. A shrine to Wayrek, god of messengers, leaned against the corner of the room. The painter had used a clay slab, painted the whole thing bright orange, then Wayrek in all black, the easiest color for an artist to get their hands on. He rode a horse with a wide-brimmed hat on his head to shield himself from the sun and hide his identity. In front of the painting was a bowl for offerings. All it held was a couple of raisins and bit of bread.

The place was largely empty due to the plague, the food mostly untouched. One messenger in a plain tunic sat nibbling on some trout and bread. Behind a desk, a bored-looking, balding man stooped over account ledgers. He also wore a basic tunic but had a bronze necklace around his neck, and his figure was pudgy enough that Jinua doubted he’d done much running or riding the last few years. He looked up when Jinua entered. “Sending a message, ma’am?”

“I’d like to speak to whoever runs this station.”

“That’d be me.”

She showed him Enejel’s letter. “I need to know who sent this.”

He didn’t take the letter. “Do you have a warrant from the king?”

“No.” The damn advisor didn’t mention that.

“Mail is protected by law. We prioritize the security of all of our clients.”

Jinua snapped her fingers, producing fire. “I have been tasked by a holy angel of Jadiim to investigate a matter of necromancy,” she declared, her face made stark by the flames dancing in her plam.

“Ack! Holy One! Of course, let me see the letter.”

“Excellent.” She killed the light and handed him the letter, biting back a smirk. Gods, she loved being a paladin. It made her life so much easier.

The man studied the letter, then the envelope. “Hm. Well, Holiness, I have bad news for you. This letter wasn’t written here, it passed through from somewhere else. Out east, I believe. I don’t know by who.”

Jinua bit back her frustration. She’d rather hoped that Ermis had been wrong and the culprit was here. “Do you know who the messenger was?”

“Oh, yes, I remember this job quite well,” he said. “Not a whole lot of people know how to write, so most messages are spoken. It costs more to send letters.”

Jinua nodded. She could read and write, but oral messages were usually cheaper and more convenient. Especially on the Great Steppe.

“Most messengers are also men, see, but this one was a woman. A very pretty one at that, so my boys were all over her. ‘Can I

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