The Wrong Trail Knife

by Jane Fletcher

jane.fletcher@virgin.net

Disclaimers: Please see chapter one

Chapter three — Back in Landfall again

The city of Landfall was a sprawling maze of buildings on the banks of the river Liffey. It was noisy and crowded. Despite the sewer system it stank in high summer. It’s inhabitants were habitually rude and impatient. There were back-alleys where militiawomen were frightened to walk alone — and the militia in Landfall was the toughest in the Homelands. It marked the spot where the Elder-ones had first set foot on the world, the spot where the Blessed Himoti had lived, worked and died. It was the holiest place in the universe, and it was a monument to money, politics, ambition and greed.

Chip stopped to study the city in the distance, and could not prevent her lip curling. She could not remember when she had started hating the place; somewhere far back in her childhood. The city still felt like a deep, dark trap; and there was the irrational fear that if she entered its streets she would be snared. Chip took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. It was silly. She had escaped once, she could do it again. She urged her horse forward. Katryn kept pace beside her.

It had taken them seven days to make the journey from Redridge; a fair pace without pushing the horses too hard. Chip had fought with the incompatible urges to delay, putting off the moment of arrival, and to press ahead and get the visit over with as soon as possible. Now, as she rode into the last kilometre, Chip was suddenly aware of a strange eagerness to see the city, if only to confirm it was as bad as she remembered.

"Have you ever been to Landfall before?." she asked Katryn.

"Yes, ma’am. Twice. The first time I was quite young and I don’t remember much of the city itself. The other time I passed through on my way to Fort Krowe when I applied to the rangers. I’m afraid I had my mind on other things then as well."

The corner of Chip’s mouth twitched at the ma’am. Riding together, Katryn had opened out, and would talk amiably to pass the time, but she never lapsed into anything which might be considered disrespectful. It was true they were technically on-duty, since they were in the process of obeying orders to go to Landfall, but few rangers would have stood on rank — not so much because they were lax on military protocols, rather they adapted it to the conditions. Unlike the militia, most of whom went to their homes each night, the rangers lived in the closed community of the squadron. It would be unnatural not to form friendships with all your comrades. The lines between the ranks would blur, only to snap into focus when the situation demanded.

"So what do you remember?" Chip prodded.

"The council room inside the joint military command building, and eating in the officers’ mess."

"They let an applicant to the rangers eat in the officers’ mess!"

"Oh no, ma’am. It was on the first time I went to Landfall." Chip’s expression of surprise grew, prompting Katryn to grin and continue. "My gene-mother had been a lieutenant in the militia, there was an award ceremony for her."

"She took you with her?"

"She was dead — that’s why she got the award."

"Oh… I’m sorry." Chip murmured.

"It’s okay. It was a long time ago and I don’t remember her very well."

Katryn did not seem distressed. Chip considered her thoughtfully. Although they had chatted on a range of subjects, this was the first time Katryn had offered information about her family, or any other part of her life before she joined the 23rd. Chip’s lips pulled into a wry grimace; of course she herself hadn’t been giving away much of her own life story.

There was something decidedly enigmatic about Katryn. Over the previous days Chip had found a dry, understated sense of humour, coupled with quick wits and sharp observation. It was a description which could be given of many rangers, but Katryn was quiet and unassuming — and that was unusual. Rangers tended to bravado. It was not easy to earn the right to the green and grey uniform, and even Lee Horte was not above flaunting it.

Katryn’s behaviour was untypical of rangers in other ways. Chip had not seen Katryn drink more than two tankards of beer in an evening. The women who were drawn by her good-looks and uniform wasted their time. The nearest Katryn had got to anger was with the groom who had given soiled oats to her horse, and it had shown itself only in her clipped tone as she’d overseen the feed being replaced. It was an awkward fact that Chip’s initial attraction to Katryn’s appearance had been strengthened by knowing her better as a person.

They rode on in silence until they reached the first outlying buildings of the city. The road squeezed between the crooked, overcrowded shanties of the poorest labourers. These constructions looked as if they could be washed away in a storm, but soon the houses became more substantial. As the river approached there was even the occasional run-down mansion, a relic from the days when the north side of the Liffey had been a prestigious neighbourhood, before it had been swallowed by the expanding slums. They reached a band of docks and warehouses, and then the buildings fell away on either side to be replaced by a view over the river. It was slow progress making headway on the overcrowded bridge but at last they crossed into the heart of the city.

Ahead of them the great temple to Celaeno dominated the skyline. The street was wide and crowded. Waves of screams, shouts and laughter rose on all sides. Women, children and crones swarmed over the cobblestones. Chip’s eyes flowed over the scene. Her stomach churned. It was so familiar, and the most awful thing was she could almost feel she belonged there. It was so tempting to search out the memories; the tavern where she’d first got drunk; the small upstairs room where she’d first made love; the cold doorway where she’d cried and slept on a wet miserable night.

"Um… ma’am. Do you know where we’re going?" Katryn asked hesitantly.

"Yes." Chip forced her thoughts onto the present.

Even without her knowledge of Landfall their first destination was very easy to find. All the main roads converged on the old market. Just before they came to it Chip turned aside into a smaller street, and then through an archway leading to a gravel square. Around it were the offices of the joint military command complex. The two rangers slipped from their saddles, hitched their horses to posts, and entered the nearest doorway.

It took several repetitions of their story, but eventually they were shown in to see a militia lieutenant seated at a desk. She listened to what they had to say, read the dispatch from Captain LeCoup, and scribbled a note. "Of course we’ll do what we can to help. We can give you billets and stables, and this will get you fed in the mess." She offered the sheet to Chip. "I’ll have someone show you where everything is."

"Thank-you, ma’am."

The lieutenant walked to the doorway and called to an orderly. She glanced at LeCoup’s report once more before returning it to Chip. "Coppelli? You know that’s a distinguished name in Landfall?"

"Yes, ma’am."

The orderly arrived and lead them outside to reclaim their horses. The stables were the first stop, followed by a short tour of the site. Conversation was limited to the practical, most of which Chip already knew. The room they were finally shown into was on the third story of a block behind the mess-hall. It was small but very clean, with scrubbed wooden floorboards. The only things in it were two unmade bunks and a chest. A tall window was opposite the door.

Once the orderly had gone Chip threw open the shutters and leaned her shoulder against the frame. Late afternoon sunlight flooded in; with it came the sounds and smells of the city, and memories. She was back in Landfall again. Chip stuck her head out, taking in the full panorama. There was little more than a view of rooftops on offer, but if she twisted her neck she could just catch sight of one corner of the temple.

Katryn dropped her saddle bags on the chest and stood in the middle of the room. "What do we do now, ma’am?"

Chip turned around. She felt tired and sticky after the days on the road, and if you couldn’t avoid civilisation you might as well make the most of what advantages it held. She knew exactly what she wanted to do.

"There is a really first-class bath-house around the corner. I want to get clean." Chip spoke with feeling.

Katryn smiled. "That sounds like a good idea."

It then occurred to Chip that maybe it wasn’t.

**********

Chip sat on the bench with her back against the wall, feeling the sweat bead and trickle all over her skin, taking with it the dust, odours and muscle aches of the journey. Her eyes were closed — it was safest. There was a fine mist of steam in the hot room of the baths. It condensed on the mosaic wall tiles and occasionally dripped from the ceiling. It carried a clean lemon scent. And it did very little to obscure visibility. Chip had tried not to make too obvious a point of not looking in Katryn’s direction, and not to make her response too evident when she did.

There was a slapping of feet as the three other women who had been sitting nearby got up and waddled off towards the cold pool, still gossiping about the affairs of their acquaintances. Katryn took advantage of the space left by their departure to lie face down on the bench, her head buried in her arms. Chip took advantage of Katryn’s pose to stare at her. She couldn’t help herself; the rest of Katryn’s body was as perfect as her face. Chip’s examination started at the ankles and travelled slowly upwards, pausing only briefly at the bottom. The skin of Katryn’s back was flawless, whatever else she had never been flogged. Chip felt painfully guilty at the shameless ogling, and even more guilty at wanting proof Katryn hadn’t been court-martialled.

Katryn turned her head. Chip tried to pretend she’d been staring blankly into the distance.

"What the lieutenant said about the name Coppelli." Katryn began. "I’ve been trying to think where I’ve heard of it. Wasn’t it the name of the previous mayor of Landfall? The one who held the post for years?"

"Yes." Chip closed her eyes, but for a different reason than before.

"I don’t suppose you’re related?"

Chip bit her lip. "My birth-mother."

"What!" Katryn’s head shot up. "Aren’t the family incredibly rich, own half of Landfall?"

"No, no, you’re thinking of the Tangs; they’re the really wealthy ones — my gene-mother’s family." Without looking Chip knew Katryn’s jaw would be hanging open. She went on. "You’re now going to ask what someone from my background is doing as a sergeant in the rangers." Chip met Katryn’s astounded gaze. "It’s simple. I’m running away from home."

Katryn dropped her eyes. "I’m sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to pry."

Chip laughed, happy to have something else to pick up on. "For the love of the Goddess, drop the ma’am. We are definitely off-duty at the moment."

Katryn smiled and lay her head back on her arms. "We could discuss mission plans for tomorrow."

"Not much to plan. First we’ll talk to the merchant, Mistress Drummond, I’ve got her address. Then we’ll talk to the local militia captain. And then we’ll pick up on any leads we get." Chip settled back against the wall. "How far is it to Woodside from here?"

"A day and a half to the south. Why?" Katryn sounded suddenly defensive.

"We might need to go there. Talk to more people who know the suspects." Chip glanced over. "It would be a good excuse for you to visit your family."

"I’m not too bothered about that." Katryn’s voice was muffled by her arms, but her unease was unmistakable.

Chip pursed her lips; obviously she wasn’t the only one who lacked fond memories of home. Aloud she said. "On the short term plans, when we leave here we can get a meal. I know I’ve got a chit for the mess, but there are some wonderful eating places in Landfall, and they won’t even make too big a dent in a ranger’s pay."

Katryn turned her head on one side, smiling again. "Great, I could do with getting something inside me."

Chip thought about that statement for a few seconds, then went and jumped in the cold plunge pool.

**********

Early the next day they set out on foot. The merchant had a large property in the slightly less fashionable part of town. It was on one of the older streets, close by the temple. For years the area had been in decline, but as Chip lead the way on the short walk she noted signs of money flowing back. Several facades were freshly painted, repairs were in hand on one rooftop.

Their destination looked much like its neighbours. Chip and Katryn were let into a large open hallway and asked to wait while a servant went in search of Mistress Drummond. Chip looked around. Like its surroundings, the inside of the building had the air of a place undergoing alterations. She guessed Drummond’s fortunes were changing, but whether it was up or down was harder to tell.

It was not long before the two rangers were escorted into a counting-room. A middle-aged woman rose from her ledgers to greet them. She was overweight and overdressed, and had the expansive gestures of a market trader. "Ladies, how may I assist you?" Her eyes narrowed. "I assume your visit has something to do with the appalling events in Redridge?"

"Yes ma’am." Chip spoke formally. "We have a few questions."

Chip did not get the chance to go further. Drummond leapt in. "It was shocking. Business has been going well, but there’s no way I can afford losses like that. And three of my employees dead! What do I tell their families? When the news came I couldn’t believe it. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, and wouldn’t have happened this time if Grosskopf had listened to me."

"Grosskopf?" Chip queried.

"The buyer in Fairfield. Going via Redridge was her idea. She said it would be cheaper to take the river to Petersmine and cut down on the land part of the journey, even though it meant crossing that high pass. I’d have sent the shipment via Fort Krowe — you don’t get bandits hanging around there. When Clarinda told me the militia were trying to find the murderers on their own I knew it wouldn’t work and they’d have to call in the rangers."

Chip managed to get a word in. "That would be Clarinda Wright?"

"Yes, praise the Goddess that she survived. My business has suffered enough without loosing one of my best workers."

Katryn could not disguise her astonishment at the description of the suspect. Her eyes narrowed as a disbelieving frown creased her forehead. The response was noticed and Drummond faltered, her own expression less confident.

"Has she been with you long?" Chip asked in the sudden silence.

Drummond’s eyes flicked between the two rangers. "Just over a year." The abrupt cut-off in the flow of words was conspicuous.

"And she has been a reliable worker?"

"Yes. I don’t employ people who I don’t trust."

"I wonder if it would be possible to talk to her? Or the other survivor?"

"I’m afraid not." Drummond’s composure and talkativeness returned in a rush. "After what they’d been through it was only right to let them take a short holiday. In my experience it pays to treat your staff sympathetically. You can’t expect loyalty if you don’t act like someone it’s worth being loyal to. When Clarinda came to me last week and asked for a month’s leave to go and visit her relatives I agreed, of course; and Nosheen went as well."

"Her relatives? That would be in Woodside?"

Again there was the hesitation, but Drummond recovered more quickly. "Yes… yes, I think that’s where she said. It was definitely to the south of here. But my foreman in the warehouse spoke to them at length before they went, maybe she could answer your questions about the robbery. I’ll send…"

Chip cut in before Drummond got going again. "I afraid it was those two who we really wanted to get in contact with. It seems as if we might have to follow them to Woodside. If they return early could you sent word to us at military command?"

"Yes, of course, Sergeant Coppelli — and I’m not going to forget that name. You know that the last…"

"Yes." Chip interrupted. "Well, thank you for your time, ma’am."

The two rangers said nothing until they were out of the building and surrounded by the mid-morning bustle on the street. Katryn voiced their joint impression. "I don’t trust her."

**********

In response to their request for a meeting at the militia station the rangers were asked to come back after lunch. After lunch they were asked to return again still latter. When they were put off for a third time Chip lost her patience and announced they would wait by the captain’s door until she was free. She selected a chair and threw herself down with an uncharacteristic scowl on her face.

"Must be an epidemic of lost dogs today." Chip made no attempt to keep her voice down. Katryn took a seat beside her in a calmer fashion.

There were three branches of the military; the militia, the rangers and the temple guard. All three sections disliked the other two. There was bitter rivalry between the rangers and the guards. Both saw themselves as the elite service, for different reasons. And, though everyone started in the militia, the opinion was frequently voiced that only the second-rate stayed there — an attitude which did not endear itself to the militiawomen any more than the repeated trivialising of the work they performed. It was a distortion to claim that, even in rural districts, the job of the militia amounted to no more than rounding up drunks and stray animals. The gibe was particularly unfounded in Landfall, where the militia saw more violent encounters with more criminals than most squadrons.

It was half an hour before Chip and Katryn were shown into the room. The thin-faced captain in her black uniform scarcely bothered to look up from the papers on her desk. "Good afternoon Sergeant. I am Captain Gutmann. Can I do something for you? But you’ll have to be quick."

"Yes ma’am. We’re investigating a robbery and three murders that happened just north of Redridge. We’re trying to locate two suspects." Chip said crisply.

"You think they might be in Landfall?"

No, we just came here for the pleasure of seeing you. Chip restrained her first sarcastic thought. "This is were they said they were going."

"You’ve spoken to them already?"

"We have copies of statements they gave."

"And you let them go?" The captain’s voice was smug. "That was careless."

"They had been released before my squadron arrived in Redridge. I’m afraid it was the militia who were careless… ma’am."

"You’re saying the militia made a mistake?" There was a dangerous edge to the captain’s voice.

"An error of judgement, ma’am."

The two antagonist glared at each other — or, more accurately, the captain glared at Chip, while she glared at the wall a few centimetres above the captain’s head. Eventually the captain drew a sharp breath and snapped, "So, who are these two?"

"Their names are Clarinda Wright and Nosheen Paulino, ma’am."

"I’ve never heard of them."

"They work for Mistress Drummond in Upper Street."

"If you have questions about her employees I suggest you go to Mistress Drummond herself." The captain’s tones implied the meeting was over. She returned to the paper’s on her desk.

Chip was speechless in frustrated anger, but Katryn entered the debate. "Ma’am. If I may, I have some more information. "

"What?" the captain barked.

"Before I joined the rangers I was in the militia in Woodside, which is where I came across these two. As a member of the militia I’ve personally arrested them both, and they were picked up on other occasions as well. Clarinda Wright was a particular problem. After we in the militia had done our job, half the time she’d talk her way around the magistrate, and walk out of court free. We’re concerned she might have similarly duped Mistress Drummond."

Some of the hostility faded from the captain’s face. After a few seconds thought she pulled a sheet of paper out from a pile. "What did you say their names were?"

"Clarinda Wright and Nosheen Paulino from Woodside, ma’am."

The captain scribbled a note quickly. "I’ll see if anything is known about them." She glanced up, her eyes still glittering angrily. "And if that’s all…"

This time there was no avoiding the dismissal. Outside again on the street Chip could finally give vent to her irritation. "Yet another bloody waste of time, courtesy of the militia."

"She said she ask around." Katryn pointed out.

Chip sighed bitterly. "Yes, she did, and that was down to you. Thanks, you did well, I’d lost my temper and couldn’t think straight." Chip kicked a loose pebble across the cobbles. "I noticed you didn’t try and confuse her with doubts about Drummond’s honesty."

"I just tried to keep things as simple and calm as possible."

"Well, you obviously knew how to handle her."

"It was just down to knowing militia captains hate gullible magistrates more than they hate arrogant rangers."

Chip stopped short. There was definitely the hint of criticism in the remark. "You think I could have been more tactful?"

"Um…" Katryn hesitated, searching for words. "I’m not sure blaming the militia for letting them go was wise."

"The captain was the one who started making accusations of carelessness."

Katryn shrugged. "How would LeCoup react to a militia sergeant who told her rangers had got things wrong, and then asked a favour from her?"

Chip opened her mouth and then closed it again. Actually it didn’t bare thinking about — if you were squeamish.

continued in chapter 4

Return to Main Page