Fishing (part 12 of 14)

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 17th September 2007

Characters: Larstad, Rilon
Description: Larstad runs into Rilon, who has a few interesting things to say
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 5, day 27 of Turn 4

If Gavrin had stolen the brandy, he would have given it up to save his wife and child the whip. Larstad could feel the truth of it in his gut. He paced the halls back to his rooms in quick strides as he thought, the even tap-tap of his boot heels on the stone floor serving to keep his thoughts in line.

Step - step.**If not Gavrin, then who? Harrit? Not Thorril - he's too eager to have someone to blame. Merton? No - he was horrified that Gavrin might get whipped. But is that empathy born from guilt?**

Step - step. **Harrit, then? Maybe. Rich clothes, a new telescope -
not the finest, to be sure, but telescopes cost marks. But he has a key. Why would he break into a room when he has a key of his own?
That makes no sense.**

Step - step. **Rilon? Why? Greed? He's got as much to lose as Thorril. How well does he get on with his father, anyway?**

Step - step. **Then who else?**

"Journeyman Larstad?" The Smith rounded a corner and nearly ran into Rilon, Thorril's son. The Heir smiled laconically and bowed, although Larstad caught a hint of mockery. "I see you've heard the good news.
Our very own Steward caught the thief. Gavrin, was it?"

"You know that just as well as I," Larstad growled.

"Caught with a cask of brandy in his travelling case. How tragic."
Rilon sighed theatrically. "What a betrayal. You just can't trust anyone these days."

"So it appears."

"Will you come to the whipping?"

Larstad's mouth fell open. "Shells no! Thorril makes whippings public?!"

"How else would he best humiliate the criminals who lurk here?" Rilon shrugged. "Besides, it's a chance to put on your best. I've just got a new tunic from the Weaver Hall that I am just _dying_ to wear."

The Smith's head was pounding and his mouth tasted sour. "I think it's tasteless."

"Mmm." Rilon stared at him silently for a moment, then affected a saguine expression and began to study his fingernails. There wasn't a speck of dirt beneath them. "Well. Think what you will, it's how my father does things here, and whether or not you condone it, capital punishment works. We have far fewer petty crimes here than at other, larger Holds, and quite frankly, it makes me feel safe. Many here agree - that's why we stay, and why our Hold is slowly beginning to thrive once more."

"And it's thriving so well, you can afford a new tunic while Gavrin's family is threadbare?"

Rilon rolled his eyes. "Honestly, for a supposed detective, you're rather useless, aren't you? Gavrin's a thief - he doctored his records from his coopery and skimmed profits to benefit himself. He's still paying off his fines. But yes, since you ask - the Hold can afford to send away for something suitable for its Heir to wear."

"Really." Larstad gave him a hard look and bit his tongue. If he said what he wanted to say... "And just where do you wear these fancy duds, anyway? You haven't been to Amber Hills Hold in turns, and if you haven't gone there then I can't imagine that you've been many other places. Seems wasteful."

"To Gathers and markets, and once to see the Hatching, since you're so concerned with my travel plans." Rilon rolled his blue eyes again and sighed. "Is it really that unimaginable that a man might wish to dress nicely once and a while?"

"Well, you'll have to hold off for another day. I've been granted a day to prove that Gavrin is _not_ guilty."

"What?!" Rilon's expression sharpened. His shoulders tightened beneath their elegant tunic as he turned his full attention to the Smith. "That's nonsense. Gavrin's guilty - Harrit overheard him.
You're wasting your time. And mine!"

Larstad bared his teeth in a smile. "Why - do you have somewhere else to be?" "As a matter of fact, I do. And Father won't let me go on my fishing expedition until he's got someone to blame for this sharding fiasco.
Shells." Rilon frowned. "This is ridiculous."

Fishing... "Fishing? I didn't know you fished."

Rilon sneered. "Why, do you?" "As a matter of fact, I do," Larstad lied. "I'd love to see your tackle box some time. I'm sure that it's much more impressive than mine."

"I find that hard to believe. You can make your own sharding lures."
Rilon rolled his eyes again. "And speaking of crimes, since you're so eager to solve one - find out who stole a hook out of my kit, won't you? It was new."

Larstad stilled, then bowed. "I'll see what I can do," he said.

"See that you do. Excuse me." Rilon stuck his nose up in the air and walked off leaving Larstad alone in the hall with his thoughts.

Last updated on the September 17th 2007

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Fishing (part 12 of 14)