Mr. Drake and My Lady Silver

Chapter Four-2

Ilsevel received a curious stare at the first house they stopped at. At the second, an outright disapproving one. Quickly realising that her accompaniment of Phineas might set tongues to wagging, and perhaps to his detriment, she took to waiting in the street while he went up to the doors, her back turned.

And then it was off to the peculiar establishments he had called pawn shops, where she took an instant dislike to the pawnbrokers.

‘But it is Queen Amaldria’s ring!’ she protested for the benefit of a stout, florid man who had, by the scent of his breath, been busy at the port already. ‘She is a legend in Aylfenhame! And it is real emeralds, not glass. I will need much more for it.’

The pawnbroker, whose cramped little establishment in an insalubrious part of town had at first raised her hopes, eyed the ring again. ‘It’s real emeralds, all right,’ he agreed. ‘But if it’s the property of some queen, how did you come by it?’

Ilsevel, quite prepared for this question, launched into a rather involved tale. She had amended some of the truth, and presented a story wherein, she strongly implied, she had appropriated the article for herself under questionable circumstances.

Phineas, more practical than she, allotted some thirty seconds to this narrative, and then said crisply: ‘It isn’t necessary to ask too many questions about that, is it sir?’

The stout man snorted, and handed back the ring. ‘What would your father say, Phineas Drake, if he knew you were consorting with thieves?’

It would depend upon the thief, Phineas thought involuntarily.

So much for the florid man.

Phineas took her to two more such shops, with similar results. In one, she surmised, he was not only known, but had actually made use of its services — and recently, too. Hard up, was he? He ought not to be, not with such a fine little shop under his stewardship. Frowning, she tucked that information away — and tucked a sapphire ring from her left little finger into his coat pocket, too, when he was not attending to her.

The fourth pawn shop proved, to her relief, more useful. Unusually (as she was beginning to learn) the proprietor of this dusty little place was a woman, and a sharp-eyed, shrewd sort. She examined Queen Amaldria’s ring with efficient professionalism, pronounced it acceptable, and took it without question, even when Phineas had made clear its questionable provenance.

The money she offered for it was insultingly low, but that was all right. She would not be keeping the ring for long.

She was a shade insolent, too. Eyeing Ilsevel’s very handsome dress, she said: ‘T’ain’t wise, walking about in stolen dresses. Sell ‘em to me, and I’ll replace ‘em with something less eye-catching.’

With dignity, Ilsevel declined. It was bad enough to part with Amaldria’s ring, however temporarily. To sell her gowns! Unthinkable! And the idea that they were stolen! Forgetting, briefly, their masquerade, she advanced upon the pawnbroker, her mind agreeably full of wretched and painful things to do to her.

Phineas quietly intervened. ‘Pardon me, ma’am,’ he said to the pawnbroker, with far more courtesy than she deserved. ‘Have you perhaps encountered anyone by the name of Wodebean?’

The woman shook her head. ‘What manner of name is that?’

‘He would not use such a name in these parts, I am persuaded,’ said Ilsevel. ‘Only I do not know how he may be known instead.’

‘Forgive me,’ said Phineas gravely to her, and gently plucked the glittering rose out of her hat. He presented this to the pawnbroker. ‘Have you seen anything like this, anywhere abouts?’

The woman’s eyes lit up. Ilsevel recognised the same starry admiration she had seen in Phineas’s face, when he had looked at the absurd flower. ‘I’ve been trying to get me hands on one of them,’ said the pawnbroker fervently. ‘Last night, yonder by the river, there was some manner of gathering going on. Typical Christmas gaieties, o’ course, only them flowers was going around and I ain’t never seen the likes o’ them before. I never did get one, nor would anyone sell me theirs. I’ll give you a fine price for yours, sir, if’n you’ll let me have it.’

‘This one is not for sale,’ said Phineas quickly, handing it back to Ilsevel. ‘But if you will direct us to the site of this gathering, we’ll do our best to find the source.’

The pawnbroker sighed, and furnished Phineas with a garbled batch of directions of which Ilsevel could make no sense whatsoever. Phineas, however, accepted them as if they were perfectly comprehensible, and tipped his hat to the woman. ‘Our thanks.’

Ilsevel smiled warmly into the woman’s eyes, and exerted herself just a trifle. ‘My ring, ma’am, if you please?’ said she silkily.

The pawnbroker blinked, and dreamily handed Queen Amaldria’s emerald ring back to Ilsevel. ‘Of course, milady,’ she muttered. ‘What was I thinking?’

‘What, indeed?’ murmured Ilsevel. She dropped the insultingly small pile of coins onto the pawnbroker’s counter and sailed out of the shop, Phineas hurrying in her wake.

‘How did you do that?’ he asked, once they were back on the street.

‘Such a woman recognises when she has overstepped herself,’ was all that Ilsevel would reply.

Phineas frowned, and said nothing.

‘This gathering,’ she said a moment later, hurrying to keep pace with Phineas’s quick steps. ‘Why was there not news of it further up the hill?’ For they had steadily moved farther and farther downhill with their visits to the pawn shops, and had now left the great slope entirely behind them.

‘Given the type of pawnbroker she is, it’s my guess the gathering was not for the law-abiding types,’ answered Phineas.

‘That would be Wodebean’s audience, certainly,’ Ilsevel agreed. ‘It makes a great deal of sense! I am persuaded we shall find him there.’

Phineas drew her a little closer to himself, looking warily about as he strode quickly on. ‘Keep close,’ he instructed. ‘It is not quite safe in this part of town, especially in the dark.’

The street did not look so very terrible to Ilsevel. The buildings were a little shabby, perhaps, but what matter that? She could smell the river-water on the wind, and judged they were not far from it. ‘You need not strive to protect me,’ she offered by way of reassurance. ‘I am well able to take care of myself, I assure you. And of you, too.’

This wounded his pride, she immediately discerned, for he was quick to frown, and said stiffly: ‘It is my duty to make sure you are safe.’

With an inward sigh, Ilsevel merely said: ‘How kind.’

Phineas led her to an unlovely spot by a dark pool, the water crowded with boats and flanked by great, hulking buildings without beauty or character. Loath though she would be to admit it, she could not be unconscious of an air of something… faintly unpromising about the place, and she was not too sorry to keep close to Phineas. If there was trouble, he might need her to preserve him from it.

That there had been revelry of some sort afoot was evident, for she was obliged to step over some one or two supine celebrants as she walked along. Mercifully, the sun was just high enough by then for her to discern an occasional dark shape before she stepped on it. There were few of them, however, and when Phineas attempted to question them he received little response save a groan of protest and a curse or two.

‘I see no roses, do you?’ said Phineas after a time.

‘None,’ said Ilsevel, ‘but they would hardly be left lying in the street, would they? Would you leave yours in such a position?’

‘No.’

Another shadowy human shape loomed. Ilsevel paused before it, leaned down, and grabbed it by the shoulder. With a violent shake of the recumbent drunkard she said, loudly and firmly, “Wodebean, my good man! Where is he to be found?’

She was answered, after a fashion. The wan dawn rays glinted off the silvery blade of something sharp, which was presented dangerously close to her face. ‘Unhand me, lady,’ growled a low voice.

With a short sigh, Ilsevel took the grimy hand in a tight grip and pinched in one or two precise, sensitive spots. The knife fell with a clatter. ‘There is no need for that,’ she admonished. ‘I merely require information. Wodebean. A shortish fellow, rounded in the shoulder, probably swathed in some unnecessarily colourful mantle. He was here last night, indulging in a quite uncharacteristic display of largesse — unless he was selling the roses, which would be much more like him. You have been here for some time, I conclude by your state; have you seen him?’

The shape surged to its feet and stood there, swaying slightly. A face was pushed unnecessarily close to hers, and she was treated to the scrutiny of a pair of dark, bloodshot eyes. ‘Who are you, lady?’

‘My name is Ilsevel, and if you would be so kind as to answer my questions I assure you, my companion and I will be…’ She paused, being suddenly aware that Phineas was not with her. ‘Happy to leave you in peace,’ she finished, dismissing the problem of Phineas from her mind for the moment.

‘Them roses,’ said the man, for it proved to be a person of the male persuasion. ‘Fellow like that was around, handin’ them things out like they was mince pies or sommat. Though he said right enough, there was a price on ‘em. Folk seemed happy t’ pay it.’ He belched, and held a hand to his head.

‘What was the price?’

‘Do I look like the type as wants a spangly flower?’

‘My good man, everyone wants Wodebean’s wares. That is the nature of the wretch. He has a way of making things… irresistible.’

The man shrugged. ‘I resisted ‘em just fine.’

‘Intriguing.’ Ilsevel looked him over thoughtfully, but received no real clues as to his probable nature. He wore a long coat like Phineas’s, very nearly as threadbare, though this man’s was solid black. Stout boots covered his feet, and his dark hair was in a state of disorder. ‘Where did Wodebean go?’

‘No idea,’ said the man shortly.

Ilsevel sighed in frustration, and turned away. ‘My thanks.’

‘If it’s that important to you, lady, there’s another shindig tonight. Mayhap he’ll be about again with his fancy nothings.’

‘Excellent!’ Ilsevel turned back, with a broad smile for the suddenly helpful fellow. ‘It is to be held here?’

‘Aye. And it’s market night.’

‘Market night?’

She detected the faint glimmer of whitish teeth in the dim light: a grin. ‘There’s a market at times fer the sale of… unusual goods, shall we say? Ain’t usually frequented by the likes of you, o’ course. Always held at night, ‘cause that’s when the law-folk are least lively. And,’ he added clinically, ‘can most easily be bribed to stay indoors wi’ their fires.’

‘The perfect environment for Wodebean,’ Ilsevel declared. ‘What is your name, my good fellow? I am quite pleased with you.’

But the man made no answer, being apparently distracted by the approach of Phineas. Who, she noted, was holding a second frosted rose. ‘Phineas Drake,’ said her new friend. ‘Yer father’ll not be pleased to hear of this.’

‘My father is rarely pleased,’ said Phineas. He gave the rose to Ilsevel. ‘I got this off a, er, lady as has spent the night by the water. Said she picked it up off the floor last night.’

‘And she just gave it to you?’

Phineas said nothing. She could not quite tell in the darkness, but were his cheeks a trifle flushed?

‘No matter,’ she murmured.

‘Maybe you won’t tell my father, Gabriel,’ suggested Phineas.

Ilsevel’s helpful new friend, Gabriel, eyed Phineas with some scepticism. ‘Happen I might not, provided you ain’t in trouble.’

‘No trouble, I promise.’

Gabriel threw a meaning look in Ilsevel’s direction. ‘And this fancy article?’

Phineas was definitely blushing now. ‘She is a respectable woman,’ he said firmly. ‘Whom I have chosen to help.’

‘That is the truth,’ put in Ilsevel helpfully. ‘On both points.’

Gabriel grunted. He cast about in the street for a moment, and then stooped. When he straightened, he was carrying a dark, slightly dented hat, which he restored to his head. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said gravely, ‘I’ll take my leave.’ He made them a brief, slightly pained bow, judging from the grimacing twist to his lips, and walked away.

‘Does everyone know you, in these parts?’ said Ilsevel.

Phineas sighed, though she could not imagine what troubled him. ‘My father,’ he said shortly.

Abandoning the subject, she beamed at him. ‘Well, but Phineas! Our venture has borne fruit. There is another round of revelry taking place tonight, with a market for all manner of questionable things, and I shall attend! For surely Wodebean will be here.’

‘Ilsevel.’ Phineas took a step closer, his face very grave. ‘You cannot attend such an event.’

‘Whyever not?’

‘I… I think you do not precisely understand the nature of the entertainments.’

‘I understand them perfectly.’

He looked helplessly at her. ‘Can I not persuade you? There must be some other occasion, some other way that Wodebean may be discovered.’