The Cartographer's Apprentice by Jim Webster

Author:Jim Webster
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Land of the Three seas, Magic, detective, stories, murder, mystery, fantasy, epic, vengence, adventure, body, killer, lawyers, food and drink, Destriers, the Urlan, Benor Dorfinngil
ISBN: 9781783331758
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited 2013
Published: 2013-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

Benor had kicked off his boots and was tearing off his jacket and britches. “Floating; face downwards. Find a rope.”

Stripped to the waist Benor dived into the dark water below. In three strokes he reached the body and rolled it over onto its back. He looked up and Hurdelk threw a rope down to him. Benor snatched the rope out of the air and tied it under the man’s shoulders.

“Pull him up.”

The noise had attracted others. By the time Benor climbed the ladder back up onto the harbour front, there were half a dozen people standing around the figure sprawled over a barrel. Hurdelk was listening closely to him. “He’s breathing.”

Benor moved through the spectators. “Probably needs a doctor.”

“Why?” One of the bystanders asked. “He’s just a drunk who fell in; happens all the time.”

Benor looked at Hurdelk. “Well?”

“We can get him to the Tarsteps Watch house. Vaknal’s wife will be there.”

Benor put his boots back on and bundled up his clothes. Then they slung the man’s arms over their shoulders and, supporting him from either side, made their slow way to the Watch house.

The spectators drifted off to find some more interesting way to spend an evening. Hurdelk asked, “Why does he need a doctor?”

“Someone had hit him on the side of the head,” Benor said. “I could see the mark.”

They staggered on under their load. After a while Hurdelk asked, “Do you recognise him?”

“It’s the drunk from the Black Erret; the one who left with the woman in the red dress.”

“Yes, Wingle’s mate. Wingle was murdered, and this guy nearly died.”

“So how far to the Watch house?”

Hurdelk stopped to shift the load. “Just down this side street.”

“Good, I’m freezing.”

When they got to the front door, Hurdelk grabbed the brass knocker and knocked repeatedly. Eventually, from inside they heard footsteps. Hurdelk stopped hammering and they stood in silence and waited for the door to open.

It was a young woman who opened it. Seeing them she unhooked the safety chain and opened the door properly.

“Who is he?”

“A friend of Wingle, who was murdered this morning; is Vaknal back yet?

“Not yet Hurdelk Wallan, I’m expecting him back soon through.”

“What do we do with him?” Benor gestured to the man they were holding up.

“Bring him through, we’ve got cells on the ground floor, we can lay him on a bed in one of them.”

Benor and Hurdelk laid their burden down on the simple sawdust paillasse.

“I’m forgetting my manners.” Hurdelk turned to Benor. “Allow me to introduce Neena.” He turned to the young woman. “Neena, this is Benor Dorfinngil, a friend of mine from Toelar.”

“Ah, the cartographer; Vaknal mentioned him.”

Neena scrutinised the man on the bed. “He’s breathing reasonably. Hurdelk, you go and get a doctor, your friend here can stay and keep an eye on our unconscious friend. I’ll find some towels and dry clothes.

The doctor arrived half an hour later, examined the patient and announced that he’d probably be alright. He’d barely gone before Vaknal arrived home, looking tired. He went with them to look at the patient.

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