“Princess Elizabeth wishes me to speak to him about his royal concession for trading furs in the kingdom. Is he here?” I raised the scroll and indicated my desire to enter.
“Why would she want you to talk with him?”
“Elizabeth’s duties about the palace are ever-expanding, and she has me gathering information on several royal concessions, and who we will choose to operate them in the coming years. Of course, she is far too busy to do the groundwork, so that lowly task is assigned to me and she will certainly follow my recommendations. Now, I really must speak to your husband.” My voice and general tone hadn’t taken on an angry edge, at least not yet. Telling this woman not to spread tales wouldn’t work. She needed a reason. Losing a comfortable living would qualify.
The woman’s jaw rested on her ample chest in shock and fear. She threw the door open and attempted to smile as she waved me inside. A large man sat on a stool, three stacks of furs before him. He was examining one under the bright light streaming in through the window, and when satisfied, placed it on the stack to his left. He was probably sorting them according to quality.
The woman barked, “Princess Elizabeth sent him here to see you. Get up and treat him well.”
The tall man shivered at her tone and stood until the top of his head nearly touched the beams of the ceiling. He reached his paw of a hand to envelop mine as he jovially said, “Big Henry, most call me. Can’t think of a single good reason why.” He chuckled at a joke he’d probably repeated a thousand times. “What can an old fur trader like myself do for you, son?”
The woman raced to the serving table and poured two glasses of red wine, my least favorite. “Call me Damon. I have come to discuss the royal concession for furs, as instructed by Princess Elizabeth.”
“Tell me more,” he said, pointing to an empty chair for me. “Is there a problem?”
I glanced at the woman who had now spilled the wine while pouring and attempted to wipe it up. Her hands were shaking. However, it was not fair to threaten Big Henry for his wife’s onerous actions. I handed him the scroll with the new phrases my magic had placed on it and allowed him a moment to read the few words. Nothing there was a lie, just careful phrasing that indicated Elizabeth wished me to safeguard all was well and proper with a variety of royal suppliers. If ever asked about it by the king or one of his ministers, she would readily admit she had followed up on a few unfounded rumors—all for the benefit of the kingdom and well within her province.
Big Henry said, “My prices are fair, my furs top-quality. There has never been a problem.”
“Elizabeth is concerned with the appearance of propriety. Those selling with the royal commission must be above reproach in product and quality, and they also must maintain the highest moral standards. She will not permit any hint of scandal or rumormongering.” Was there the flick of his eyes to meet those of his wife?
He turned back to me. “Have you any reason to suspect that may be the case?”
“No.” I carefully refused to make eye contact with the wife as she placed the wine beside me. Instead, I continued, “Please understand, this is not only investigating your commission but others as well. If there is found a reason for concern, you will personally and in confidence share my finding with Princess Elizabeth.”
He fingered a lynx fur that would cost a year’s salary for most people. He hefted it and stroked the softness. My heart pounded. If he offered it to me in any manner, I’d head directly for Elizabeth, and we would begin such an investigation as described.
Instead, he held it out and said, “Feel this one, Damon. Tell me what you think.”
I touched it briefly and warily, fearful of what was to come. The fur was as soft as any I’d ever encountered. Then he placed it aside as I waited for the ax to fall. The bribe.
“Damn shame,” he muttered. “A valuable animal. Yet, this pelt was cured to deceive. It was probably taken from an animal found dead. Acid was used on the inside of the skin to make it feel softer and pliable, but it won’t hold up and is no more than a fake. The coloring was dyed and will fade. Worse, after the single season, the fur will have all fallen out by the handful.” He callously tossed it to the pile on his right.
I breathed again. He was not bribing me but teaching a lesson for his trade. A quality fur should last a lifetime, not a single season. Representing that flawed fur in a sale to the royalty in the palace might cost him the right to do business there. The loss of the commission would mean his furs would sell for half of their present worth.
“If you had sold that one?” my voice sounded strained, as well it should.
“Never happen. But, to answer your question, if it somehow had been sold, my commission would be obligated to make it right. Another fur, or a refund, the customer’s choice. It’s bad business to steal small copper coins when there are gold ones to be earned.”
I enjoyed Big Henry. More than that, I liked him—and his honesty. Standing, intentionally without tasting the wine his wife poured for me, we shook hands. On another day I might have stood in the doorway and listened, for I believed the man would be having stern words with his wife. My pride didn’t need to hear them because she would never embarrass Tam with her foul rumors.
I could have headed back to tell Elizabeth of the absence of people. However, being so close to the royal wing where those closest to the king resided, I decided to venture there and observe. There might be more to learn. Perhaps something that would prevent the trip to Mercia.
No sooner had the door shut to the fur trader’s rooms than the door to another suite opened, as if by accident. I didn’t believe that for a second. A tall, thin young man shuffled out, his nose in a book. It was Twin, the newest of the palace mages, and the last person I wished to encounter. I’d avoided him since his arrival in the palace almost a year ago. If his magic powers discovered mine, all the levels of hell would burn.
I angled to the left side of the hallway and continued walking, allowing him to read his book without interruption or making eye contact. Speeding up would draw his attention, so my pace remained the same sedate stride, and I kept my head down.
“Damon, isn’t it?”
My ears burned. Not only had he noticed me, but he knew my name. “Y-yes, Damon.”
“Have you a moment to spare?”
CHAPTER SIX
Twin, the newest and youngest mage in the palace, knew my name, and his use of it tied my tongue in a manner that didn’t happen often. He scared me. I pulled to a stop and peered up at him while trying to remain calm in my outward appearance. Twin topped me by a head. His features were sharp and thin, his skin pale. The fingers holding a book were long and delicate. My fear of him discovering my small-magic prevented me from remembering how to properly address a royal mage. “I am in a hurry to complete an important task for Lady Elizabeth, but of course if you only need a moment.”
He reached out and gently took my hand in his to shake. The long finger wrapped all around my hand, as a parent grasping the hand of a child. He said in a friendly enough voice, “I have long hoped to spend some time with you. There are good things people say about you and would appreciate your input on a variety of subjects.”
The idea that a royal mage, even if he was the fourth in palace seniority, wanted my input on anything, released my tongue. With a spur of conversational inspiration certain to impress him, I said while raising my eyebrows in surprise, “Really?”
“Yes, really,” He smiled warmly, finally letting go of my hand. “You’re in a hurry, but do you have a time that we might meet and discuss a few items of mutual interest?”