Chapter 232: Some Light Breaking and Entering
Some Light Breaking and Entering
As Martel got out of bed and saw his brown robe hanging on the dummy, over his leather armour, he hesitated before putting it on. It felt like, if not a defeat, certainly a setback. He assumed the matter of his examination would be resolved soon, but waiting without knowing for how long was never easy.
At least he had something else to focus on and keep his mind occupied. Once his work in the apothecary was done, his only chore for the day, Martel left the castle and walked towards the bridge district.
***
Martel did not go straight to the house of Oswald; instead, he met Shadi at a fountain in one of the squares. It was some distance from The River Pearl, just to minimise the risk that someone might recognise him.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked him while biting her lower lip.
"Don't worry," he tried to reassure her. "You just have to keep an eye out. If there's trouble, you can easily run away."
She slapped him on the arm. "I know that, I'm not afraid for me. You're the one going inside." She continued with a softer voice. "I don't like that you are taking this risk for my sake."
"Of all the things I've done in Morcaster, this ranks surprisingly low in terms of risk." He gave what he hoped was a comforting smile. "What about our landlord?" contemporary romance
"He left his house maybe a quarter bell ago, headed towards the Khivan district with his two guards as usual."
Just as Shadi had predicted he would, to collect rent and perhaps evict a family. As much as Martel loathed this man without having met him, he appreciated someone who stuck to regular routines. "Let's be on our way. Just in case he comes back sooner than we expected." free(w)ebnov(e)l
***
Walking through some winding streets, they reached their destination. Oswald's house looked typical for a local magistrate or perhaps a high ranking clerk in the Imperial administration. It had no courtyard for goods or carts, only a front door directly on the street, else it could also have seemed the home of a respectable merchant.
Martel and Shadi stayed in the alleys behind. While the building did have a backdoor, such would usually be bolted from the inside, and Martel was unsure if his magic could reach through the planks of the door to manipulate something on the other side. Instead, he had looked for another path of entry.
Shadi followed his gaze up to a shuttered window on the second story. "That?" she exclaimed in disbelief.
He only nodded in response before glancing around to see if they were alone. Satisfied, he reached up a hand and let his magic extend like a vine, entangling itself around the shutter. He could not reach the hasp on the other side, but he could yank the shutter open, pulling the frail hasp apart. "Give me a leg up."
Still looking sceptical, Shadi clasped her hands together. Martel placed one foot on top, and with empowered strength, he used it to leap upwards. His hands caught the edge of the window, and with another jolt of magic, he pulled himself up and fell forwards into the chamber.
Getting to his feet, he found himself in a supply room of some sort. Bedlinen, clothes, various pieces of furniture and the like littered the space. He quickly stuck his head out the window. "I'll go look," he said as quietly as he could. "Give me the signal if you see them return." She nodded and disappeared around the corner to keep watch of the street.
Turning his attention inwards, Martel carefully opened the door to leave the room. He stood in a hallway with several other doors. A quick glance told him that only one possessed a keyhole and could be locked.
Figuring that would be his target, Martel crossed the corridor and placed one hand against the keyhole. Unlike at the Lyceum, the metal contained no gold. His magic flowed easily through the material. While not as malleable to his will like fire, Martel could still sense the tap that extended into the doorway, keeping the door locked. Exerting his spellpower, he forced the tap backwards into the locking mechanism, allowing him access.
Once inside, with the door closed behind him, Martel looked around. One half of the chamber held a bed and wardrobe, while the other had a desk, drawer, and more of such practical furniture. Oswald's bedchamber and study in one. Martel went for the desk first, rummaging through each drawer.
The first held correspondence, from the look of it. The second had ledgers, presumably his accounts of his businesses. The third seemed more promising as Martel pulled out a sheet of parchment. He had never seen a legal document before in his life, but the different seals and signatures at the bottom convinced him he was on the right path.
Excitedly, he glanced over every piece of parchment, thankful for his ability to read quickly. However, he was soon disappointed. Judging by the wording, difficult though it might be to understand, none of these were contracts between landlord and tenant. They seemed to be deeds for buildings, all of them in the Khivan quarter.
Martel wondered briefly if, assuming he found the right deed, he could simply present it to Shadi's father, making him the owner of the house. It probably did not work that way; especially, as he now remembered, Khivans could not own property in Morcaster.
Frustrated, Martel went through the pile once more. No contracts of any kind; in fact, as his second glance informed him, these documents were not even the actual deeds. They were simply receipts from a notary, confirming the lawful sale and transfer of ownership. At the bottom, Martel saw scribbles he assumed belonged to Oswald. As for the other signatory, he suddenly felt cold as he recognised the seal of a horse.
Standing up straight, Martel frowned in contemplation. Why would the duke of Cheval buy properties in the Khivan enclave? Looking through the other documents, Martel found the same repeated. The dates ranged from recent to one year ago. From what Shadi had told him, this Oswald had bought the home where she lived only last year, aggressively raising the rent since then.
It did not make sense that he was buying and selling these properties if he intended to make his livelihood from renting them out. But if he had acted on behalf of the duke all along, it begged the question why Cheval wanted to hide his involvement.
The shrill sound of a bird interrupted Martel's speculations. He wondered for a moment what manner of fowl living in the city sounded like that until he remembered – the signal. It came again, urgently, but barely audible through the closed door. How much time had passed since she first tried to warn him?
Martel eased the door to the hallway open and immediately heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Making a swift decision whether to hide or run, he chose the latter. Bursting out from the room, he looked towards the stairs and saw a surprised guard staring back at him. A swift blast of wind sent the man tumbling back while Martel crossed the hallway to stand in the supply room again. He climbed out of the window and lowered himself until he hung by his fingertips before finally letting go.
He landed with little grace, and Shadi grabbed him by the shoulder to pull him up. As the guard stuck his head out the window to yell at them, they ran away.
***
Catching their breath, once they felt secure in their flight, the pair looked at each other and laughed with relief. "I'm sorry it got so close," Shadi said. "One of the guards returned, I don't know why. I tried to warn you, but I was afraid of drawing his attention if I was louder."
"Not your fault. I closed the door behind me, making it hard to hear."
She looked at him with open eyes. "Did you find it?"
It hurt him to disappoint her. "I didn't. It wasn't there." If the duke of Cheval was behind all of this, he would keep the relevant documents in his own place. Specifically, his study with his Khivan clock, which he had once shown to Martel during the summer celebration. "But I think I know where it is."
"Where?"
"In a nobleman's palace."
She looked crestfallen. "That's the end of it, then."
Martel thought about the invitation lying in his desk. "Not yet. There's one more thing to try."
