The next day, a letter was delivered to Broneslav's house.
"Son, there is a letter for you from Aleksandar Torenescu," announced his father as if Broneslav had not seen the messenger arrive and announce just this same thing. The look on his father's face was one of pride. It had never been likely that his own son would come to the notice of the leader of the Torenescu clan. And certainly not at such a young age!
The letter, written by a functionary and not the great man himself, commended Broneslav for his actions the day before and offered him some employment with the clan. He was to report to a local craftsman and woodworker called Theosius this day. Theosius would have tasks for him that would benefit all of them. The appointment was fixed for lunchtime.
"Looks like I have some work to do here, father," Broneslav told him and handed the letter over for his father to read.
At the same time as he did that, there was a commotion at the door. An elderly lady was frantically trying to get past the door guard and yelling something about ghosts in her cellar. The guards were holding her back but she was clearly in a terrible state. Recognising her as one of the family's clients, a poor old woman called Goodwife Thanato, who had previously worked for Broneslav's family in some function or another that he could not remember, Broneslav went to find out what was going on. Dealing with the family's clients was the sort of job that usually fell to the youngest adult, so he was making a virtue of necessity by actively looking into this, and he might earn credit with the family for doing so instead of waiting to be told to do it.
"Sir, there are ghosts in my cellar. Please do something. I fear for my life!" She cried when she saw him.
Musing that it would be a poor thing if the family left its clients to fend for themselves with the lack of resources they all had, Broneslav reassured the woman that he would investigate. He asked her to wait while he gathered what he might need for the job. With any luck, it would be just rats and he could employ a ratcatcher to sort them out, but recent experience had taught him that things were not always that simple.
As they walked back to her hovel, Goodwife Thanato explained between sobs that she had heard voices from her cellar. They were muffled but distinctly human or humanoid.
"I fear they are demons wishing to take me to their infernal lairs, good sir."
When they arrived, Broneslav promptly climbed down the rickety ladder into Goodwife Thanato's cellar. Removing the cover from his shield, he was able to see clearly by its light. He was standing in a dirt cellar. It was dry and smelled earthy, funnily enough. A rat, disturbed by his entrance, scuttled to the south-west corner and disappeared from sight behind one of the many sacks piled along the walls.
There was no way the rat's scuttling and sqeaking could sound human, so he began a thorough check of the cellar. His sharp eyes quickly noticed that two areas of the cellar showed unusual wear. Although the hard-packed floor did not yield signs of footprints, the dust and dirt had been disturbed in an odd pattern in the north-west corner and towards the centre of the south side. Pulling sacks away from the wall at these points revealed small passages leading away into the dark. These were no rat runs. So, there really was a mystery to solve here. The question was, which direction should he try first?
No comments:
Post a Comment