Charlotte carefully stamped Rue Toltein’s sigil into the sealing wax. That would certainly attract Charles Barnwight’s attention. She would drop the envelope off at the Barnabus Center on her way to the Cornerstone Building.
Charlie owed Rue a favor, a big favor or several small ones, for keeping a particularly jealous mistress of his from finding out about his other mistresses. At the time, she had been brokering a small job of collecting blackmail material for him. No, he would not have any problem sending her some copies of contracts brokered by the Traders’ Guild.
The Cornerstone Building was definitely not a place for Larca Streeb. The tallest building in Freyk’s Wall housed the headquarters of several of the larger merchant houses, as well as that of the Honorable Order of Merchants itself. There was a risk that Rue would be recognized. Of course, those that did would almost certainly go to great lengths to avoid making their acquaintance known.
The Rue that stepped into the marble-floored lobby was not the same one that had fought off muggers behind the Black Dagger the night before. This Rue’s dark hair was shot through with streaks of grey. A high-necked linen blouse, a nice but not too expensive woolen jacket, and a matching woolen skirt replaced her stylish but practical leathers. In East Gate, this Rue looked the epitome of the no-nonsense assistant to a prominent merchant or trader. She strode up to the receptionist, her heels clacking loudly on the marble.
”Young man, I have a delivery to make to Mr. Samuel Kerstens. Some very important papers he must receive immediately.”. Charlotte patted the messenger bag slung over her shoulder. “Where might I find him?”
“Yes, ma’am. Mr. Kerstens’ office is on the 33rd floor. If you would like to go to the main office of the Honorable Order of Merchants on the 34th floor, though, they should be able to find Mr. Kerstens for you, if he is anywhere in the Honorable Order’s offices. Please take one of the elevators over there to the right.
”Is there anything else I can help you with today?” This he had muttered to himself. Charlotte had already turned her back on him and was clacking briskly towards the elevators.
She only had to stand for a few moments, tapping a toe impatiently, before one of the elevators arrived. After it had disgorged its passengers, she strode onto it, brushing past a man in a Marsden courier company uniform.
”Thirty-third floor,” she instructed the adept managing the spells that controlled the contraption.
”Yes, ma’am. And you, sir?” The adept addressed Charlotte’s fellow passenger.
”Fourteenth, please.”
Charlotte let out a noticeable “Hrmph” and started tapping her toe again. When they finally arrived at the 33rd floor - without the Marsden man - Charlotte pretended not to notice the sour look the adept gave her as she strode out of the elevator.
The elevator opened in the middle of a hallway that turned a corner a couple of dozen feet for Charlotte in each direction and disappeared behind her. Four pretentious mahogany doors lined the wall across from her. It did not take long to find the silver-plated plaque of “Samuel Kerstens, B.Pd., S.C.T., T.F.E, Assistant Master of the Honorable Order of Merchants” on the door immediately to her right.
Charlotte gently tested the door’s ornate handle. Locked. Not a problem. The elevator doors started to open just as she had extracted a set of picks from a pocket inside her jacket. She turned on a heel and sauntered down the hallway.
The hallway around the corner was bare except for a few uninteresting paintings of piles of grain, stacks of metal bars, and bolts of cloth. Around another corner, the hallway mirrored the one on which she started, with a couple of plain doors and a service elevator added on the inside wall. Charlotte read the plaques on each of the doors on this side as she passed. Their engravings were much less grandiose than Kerstens, having but a name and position, such as “Theodora Turnwise, Chief Accountant.”
By the time Charlotte had returned to her starting point, the hallway was empty. She unlocked the door quietly and quickly. She took a deep breath and thrust her shoulders back. She pushed open the door firmly and strode into Kersten’s office.
It would have been bad luck if the office had been empty. It would have been good luck if Charlotte had caught Kerstens doing something illicit. As it happened, Kerstens was there, rather mundanely examining a ledger.
Kerstens jerked his head back and let out a squeak. Then he regained some of his composure. “What? Who are you? How did you get in here?” he huffed.
”Samuel Kerstens, what is your response to these accusations?”
”What? What accusations? What are you talking about? Who are you?”
”Clematis Quesenbloom from The Independent. You are not denying these allegations?”
”Wait. Wait! Hold on! What allegations? What is going on?”
Charlotte set her messenger bag on his desk and pulled out a notepad. Flipping it open, she said, “My sources lead me to believe that you are conspiring with the Traders’ Guild to cut Empire Merchantile out of the trade in leather goods from the western provinces, a trade that Empire has dominated for over a century. Do you have a statement to make about this betrayal of the trust placed in the Honorable Order of Merchants?”
Kerstens slouched and began rubbing his temples. “Leather goods? Empire? I don’t know what you are talking about.”
”I’ll just put down, ‘Denies all suggestion of misconduct in this matter.’. Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Kerstens.” Charlotte picked up her bag and walked rapidly out of the office. If she were lucky, it would be a while before Kerstens noticed that the stack of papers on which she had set her bag was significantly shorter than it should be. If she were really lucky, she had left him so befuddled that she would be well away before he thought to come after her.
———
Lady Charlotte Silvermane took a dainty sip of her tea. Lady Charlotte had been a rare sight in Freyk’s Wall for the past few months. But Baroness Magna deFraine only fraternized with fellow members of the nobility. And the Baroness was the best forger that Charlotte knew.
And so, Charlotte found herself wearing a wide-brimmed, floppy hat and nibbling on tiny pastries and cucumber sandwiches at in a small, private room in Madame Pernon’s Tea House in Dragon’s Reach.
”And how about your dear brother? Still single is he? Stepping out with anyone?”. asked the woman sitting across the small table. The Baroness deFraine would have looked at home in a stately manor five decades earlier, with her elbow length gloves, tightly cinched corset over a lace-trimmed bodice, and heavily embroidered skirt. Most that saw her thought her rather silly. Charlotte knew better.
”Oh, yes, still unattached. I’m afraid Rudolph poors so much of his energy into running the estate that he has little left over for balls or,” Charlotte raised her cup in salute, “teas. And then there’s training the militia. Can you believe that we had an invasion of ratmen a few weeks ago? Not even Marjorie can figure out how they got so far from the city. With things like that happening, Rudolph just has to ensure that the militia are up to snuff, don’t you know.”
“Someone needs to remind him of his responsibilities,” scolded Magna. “It isn’t like either you or Marjorie look like you are about to settle down and start producing Silvermane heirs. It would just be to tragic if that magnificent estate got divided up amongst a bunch of ranchers or, even worse, merchants. Not to mention the horror of Evermeet being merged with Baglit. It is my understanding that a third cousin on Duchess Tamarri would have a claim on the Dukedom if the Silvermanes died out.”
”I don’t think you need to worry about that for quite a while, my dear.” The mini-eclairs were delicious, if much too small. “What about you? Every month that goes by, I’m surprised that some young lordling hasn’t corralled you.”
”Oh, Lord Kenmere, that’s Duke Tarran’s second son by his third wife, thought he might try to saddle me. Turns out, he was under quite a misapprehension about who would be wearing the spurs.” They both giggled.
”Enough small talk, now, although you do have to come around to my flat for drinks sometime soon,” said Magna, waving away such trivial matters. “It usually takes at least a week of negotiations even for someone as dear to me as you to get on my schedule. You show up out of nowhere and demand to meet me immediately. I had to cancel with Lady Tressera, she’s the wife of Duke Demza’s third son, and she had better not find out that I was not in bed with a terrible hangover. My curiosity knows no bounds.“
Charlotte grinned. This was the Magna she had come to see.
”How would you like a hand in disgracing the Assistant Master of the Honorable Order?”
”Can’t we aim higher than ‘assistant’? Those arrivistes are going to bring this country to ruin, you mark my words. I wouldn’t mind seeing the whole lot of them brought down.”
”Maybe next week, darling. This week, we’re concentrating on Samuel Kerstens. Believe me, what I have planned will confound the Honorable Order for weeks, if not months.” Charlotte reached for the last remaining cream puff.
”I’m in, of course. What’s the plan?”
”Kerstens is planning a coup. We expose him, he’s thrown out on his ass, and none of the merchant houses know who to trust. And we both get paid, of course.”
”Sounds delightful,” said Magna, her eyes sparkling. “And why am I here, unless you just wanted to give your old friend a nice present?”
”You know better than that. I need an example of your excellent penmanship.”
”How could I have thought otherwise?” Magna’s groan was belied by her wide grin. “The usual? Letters from a mistress?”
”Something a little more complicated this time. I need a contract between Kerstens and the Borovan Steel Works and Engine Company, one of those manufactories out in the Fan.”
Magna frowned. “I’d love to help, but that would be beyond me. Matters of business are far beyond my ken.”
Charlotte grinned at her reassuringly. “Not to worry. You don’t think I would leave you all lathered up? I come bearing gifts, after all.”. She pulled a fat envelope out of her handbag.
”Here are copies of several actual contracts. I’m sure you can piece together what needs to go into Kerstens’ contract. Just have him promise to deliver, say, forty tons of iron to Borovan every month for a year. Let’s say delivery is to occur on the first work day of each month. And I’ve put in a few of Kerstens’ own papers. Should have enough signatures on it for you to make a good copy.”
”You’re going to make me get out my typewriter, aren’t you? These things won’t be handwritten, not these days. No romance at all.”. Magna sighed before pursing her lips. “What about the other signature? Surely, someone from Borovan would have to sign. I don’t know much about contracts, but I do know that they are not one-sided.”
”Make someone up. How about…Radovise Plurivan? Sound good? It doesn’t matter too much. No one from the Honorable Order is going to trek over to the Fan to ask Borovan if anyone over there signed a contract that violated all of the Order’s strictest laws and traditions.”
”I suppose not. Radovise Plurivan? Not bad. How about Nanova Serivisa? Cantron Jermilac? Or–“
”I’m sure you’ll come up with someone both totally appropriate and totally absurd,” interrupted Charlotte. “Now, how soon can I get the contract back?”
Magna bit her lip and tapped her fingers on the table. “A few naughty letters, those I could whip out in an afternoon. This, I don’t know. I haven’t done anything this complicated since I rewrote Duchess Ndellia’s marriage contract. You had better give me a couple of days. Countess Verinia will be so disappointed when I’m not at her dinner party tomorrow. I’ll have to tell her I caught the vapors. It would do my reputation no good if it got about that I let a mere hangover send me to bed for three days.”
“That fits within my timeline. As long as it’s good. It doesn’t have to pass an audit, but anyone reading it will be experienced with this type of contract.”
“Darling, you did not come to me because I can scrawl a signature. I am an artist. I take pride in my work. No one will be able to tell that my contract was not written by the chief trader himself.”
“Then, I think we both deserve another cuppa and some more of that walnut and pear cake.”
Den of the Red Wolf 