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frequented this expensive brothel. She had a reputation for being discrete, especially with the identities of men who could not afford to be seen frequenting a brothel.

“Royce,” Gwen said, “a potential customer visited The House earlier this evening. He was quite anxious to speak to one of you. I set up a meeting for tomorrow evening.”

“Know him?”

“I asked the girls. None of them have ever seen him before.”

“Was he serviced?”

Gwen shook her head. “No, he was just after information about thieves for hire. Funny how a man always expects prostitutes to know everything when he is looking for answers but assumes a girl will take his secrets to her grave.”

“Who talked to him?”

“Tulip. She said he was foreign, dark-skinned, and she mentioned an accent. He might be from Calis, but I didn’t bump into him so I can’t tell you for sure.”

“Was he alone?”

“Tulip didn’t mention any companions.”

“Want me to talk to him?” Albert asked.

“Na, I’ll do it,” Hadrian said. “If he’s poking around these parts, he’ll probably be looking for someone more like me than you.”

“If you like, Albert, you can be here tomorrow and watch the door for strangers,” Royce added. “I’ll keep an eye on the street. Has there been anyone new hanging around?”

“It has been pretty busy, and there are a few people I don’t recognize. There are four people right now in the main bar,” Gwen mentioned, “and there was a different party of five a few hours ago.”

“She’s right,” Emerald confirmed. “I waited on the five.”

“What were they like? Travelers?”

Gwen shook her head. “Soldiers, I think. They weren’t dressed like it, but I could tell.”

“Mercs?” Hadrian asked.

“I don’t think so. Mercenaries are usually troublesome, grabbing the girls, shouting, picking fights—you know the type. These guys were quiet, and one was a noble I think. At least some of the others referred to him as baron something—Trumbul I think it was.”

“I saw some like that up on Wayward Street yesterday,” Mason said. “Might’a been as many as twelve.”

“Anything going on in town?” Royce asked.

They looked at one another doubtfully.

“Do you think it has anything to do with those rumors about killings out near the Nidwalden River?” Hadrian asked. “Maybe the king is calling up support from other nobles.”

“Are you talking about the elves?” Mason asked. “I heard about that.”

“Me too,” Emerald said. “They say elves attacked a village or something. I heard they slaughtered everyone—some even while they slept.”

“Who said that? That doesn’t sound right,” Albert commented. “I’ve never known an elf to look a man in the eye, much less attack one.”

Royce grabbed his boots and cloak and headed for the door. “You’ve never known an elf, Albert,” he said as he abruptly left.

“What’d I say?” Albert asked staring at everyone with an innocent expression.

Emerald shrugged.

Hadrian took out Alenda’s purse and tossed it at the viscount. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Royce can be moody at times. Here, divvy out the profits.”

“Royce is right, though,” Emerald said. She appeared pleased that she knew something they did not. “The elves that attacked the village were wild elves, full-bloods. The half-breeds from around here are nothing but a bunch of lazy drunks.”

“A thousand years of slavery can do that to a person,” Gwen pointed out. “Can I have my cut, Albert? I have to get back to work. We’ve got a bishop, the magistrate, and the Brotherhood of Barons visiting The House tonight.”
    -- 3 --
    Hadrian was still sore from the previous day’s exertion when he took a seat at an empty table near the bar and observed the patrons of the Diamond Room. The name came from its odd, stretched rectangle shape, caused by how the addition fit into the space between the tavern and the brothel next door. Hadrian knew, or was