After a few days in the drinking houses of Sheld, Vaenuth learned a lot about the crime family she sought to learn from. It was true that Lerran of Sheld had usurped his father Gharo. The continued thriving of the criminal organization was a tribute to the widespread corruption of the region, or to Lerran’s merits and tactics, or to Gharo’s backwards thinking. All three of these seemed to be relevant factors from the rumours that Vae heard while she gambled a hand of cards against the bawdy workmen of Sheld.
The second thing she learned was that the Family of Lerran was not simply a corrupt government that now ran the city—they were involved in every branch of crime, even slavery such as that which Vaenuth now sought to avenge. Unlike earlier days of the voyage, she kept herself focused on one crime. Just as Ovoe the Keeper had once told her, to try to change the nature of Radregar was a task akin to suicide. Vengeance on one criminal was much more common, and much more promising for her longevity. One less slaver was enough for her to call it a good day.
So, at last, Vae led her men—Tagg, Pressip, Arloe, and Krebin—up to the gates of the Lerran Estate. The guards held them up for questioning before opening the big wooden doors. They asked the group to surrender their arms before leading them into a guardhouse for a discussion.
“You are interested in buying information, you said?” asked the bearded man that spoke with Vaenuth. “Have you engaged in such dealings with the Family before?”
She shook her head. “No, I was given advice to seek you out by a friend that knows what I seek.”
“Which is what?” the guard asked. “And who is this friend?” He took a drink of the mug in front of him, which smelled of rye. Behind him, Tagg could be seen with a frustrated expression, answering questions from another guard.
“I’ll not say the information I intend to give or buy, except to a direct member of your leadership,” Vaenuth said.
“Very well,” the guard replied. He was probably accustomed to being told it was above his pay-grade.
“As for the friend, you’ve never heard of him. We sailed from Numa’nakres,” she told the man.
The interrogator tapped the green eye brooch he wore and asked, “What makes you think Lerran of Sheld wants to do business with someone so far removed?”
Vaenuth shrugged. “I’ll pay well,” she said. It was only partially a bluff. Despite the expenses she had worried about recently, she still had some currency. She would also be able to gain some in the form of loot from destroying the slavers she sought, presumably.
“What’s this? Visitors?” asked a short haired woman in chainmail, bursting through the guardhouse door.
“Captain,” stammered the guard speaking with Vaenuth. “We didn’t know you were on the property, or we’d have brought this to your attention straight away. Er, yes, these are foreigners from Numa’nakres who seek to broker information with Master Lerran.”
The female Captain looked Vae over—her winding snake tattoo, her simple white binding around her chest, her piercings, her sharply-toned muscles. “She doesn’t look like a foreigner from Numa’nakres.”
Vaenuth smiled. “I was born in Bellasa, if you’re referring to my skin colour.”
“Yes, but I don’t care about skin colour,” the Captain said, with a dry smirk. “What information do you seek?”
“The whereabouts of another group, slavers,” Vaenuth said. “I’m prepared to discuss it with any member of Lerran’s direct Family.”
“Well, I’m his sister, Antha,” the other warrior woman replied, and then scoffed at some joke unheard. “But I won’t be handling a deal of information. Neither will anyone else here. Selling out other criminals is something Lerran would deal with himself. But he isn’t here. You want to deal with him, you wait until he returns from Lo Mallago. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed your visit in Sheld.”
Without another word, Antha marched out of the guardhouse, with her hand on her swinging scabbard. Vaenuth distantly wanted to challenge the other woman to a fight, if only to learn just how skilled Tagg’s training had made her. She looked back at the bearded guard who had been questioning her, but the man only shrugged and gave her a small grin. Then he took another drink of his rye.
A few moments later, Vaenuth and her friends found themselves in the street again, surrounded by busy passersby and city guards wearing the same uniform as that Antha woman. Discouraged, Vaenuth led the way downhill without a word, until Tagg spoke up.
“Now what?” he asked, arms swinging by his sides. He occasionally grimaced and rubbed his scarred shoulder. A jagged white line was visible around the curve of his sleeveless tunic, where they had taken away the infected flesh.
Vaenuth shrugged. “I suppose we’re heading to Lo Mallago,” she muttered.