Chapter
Seven Page 5
On the other side of the Shelzar, inside the walls of Old City,
a shadow on the wall became darker, then moved from the inside.
Heilan stepped from the world of Drendari, into an alleyway
near Vangal's Edge. While he knew about the knife fighters of
Shelzar, he had little interest in watching the matches. Today
however, the man he sought was inside. At least, he was normally
at the knife fights on Madraday, according to Rupert, who stepped
from the shadows close behind him.
Heilan studied the building for a moment, adjusting his cloak,
then stepped out of the alley onto the sidewalk of the boulevard.
Rupert glided past him, and down to a small cafe' ordering a
cup of the dark coffee drink popular in Shelzar. Heilan followed
after a moment, and sat down at one of the small tables. The
absence of his swords troubled him slightly. Shelzar didn't
allow swords or other weapons to be worn by those without special
license. Only daggers were allowed to the average citizen or
visitor. While getting a special license was certainly within
his ability, even if he had one, he wouldn't have carried his
weapons on this particular mission. They would only serve to
attract unwanted attention.
Rupart sat down at the small table and placed one of the porcelain
cups of dark coffee in front of him. Heilan said nothing, still
studying the building, assessing the people that went in, and
those that came out of the main door guarded by four men with
military airs about them. He could hear the crowd inside cheering
and cursing as a match between knife fighters played out.
"You certain Domanar is in there?" he asked Rupart,
while picking up the small cup and bringing it to his lips,
watching his bejeweled ring as he did so out of habit.
"No." Rupart said, sipping his own cup. "To
tell you the truth I know very little about the Cartel. My focus
is on the Penumbral movements in Calastia. I only pick up information
about the Cartel when they interact with my interests. Which
is not that often."
Rupart sipped, and winced. Whether the wince was from the extraordinarily
hot temperature the brew was served at, or the bitterness of
the brew itself, was not evident. "I do know that he is
normally here on Madraday, because he has a small stable of
fighters which take challenges. He could be out on business,
or sick or dead for all I know."
Heilan looked back at the building. Nothing was springing into
his mind that there was anything generally dangerous about it,
other than the obvious factors. He sipped the coffee again,
and could feel the heat affecting him. At least he thought it
was the heat. His mind seemed more 'awake' than before. It was
a very strange sensation.
"There's no need to come in with me." Heilan said.
