any one of Miiska's various taverns late into the night, he found these "duties" more and more difficult as time passed. He felt that it appeared normal, even proper, for the town constable to patronize Miiska's drinking establishments with his guards. He would listen to his men tell boring stories about their families, the arrest of some cutpurse, or breaking up an argument between hawkers at the market. He would smile and nod and attempt to show interest.
But ale did little to fill his mind with dreamy comfort, and lately, it had grown more difficult not to leave early from the guardhouse, where he completed much of his work, and flee home to his lavish rooms in Miiska's finest inn, The Velvet Rose. Once alone in his rooms, he could sit and mix yellow Suman opiate powder with his hidden stores of Stravinan spice whiskey. The combination created a powerful tonic for his troubled thoughts and allowed him to sit in bliss for hours and hours, floating in a perfect state of existence.
Although he'd learned of the elixir years ago when a traveling merchant gave him his first taste, he hadn't indulged much in the past, as the cost of both components was exorbitant. Particularly the powder, which came from across the sea on the far continent, south into the Suman Empire and its kingdom of il'Mauy Meyauh. And even there, it was grown in secret and had to be smuggled out of the country. The price was often too much for him—except of course on special occasions when he was able to extort an unusually high fine for a criminal's release. He found it quite unfair that a man in his position, who earned one of the largest stipends in Miiska, should not be able to afford simple comforts after a hard day's work. Of course, he didn't have to live in the Velvet Rose, but his plush rooms also brought him great pleasure, and a man of his stature needed to keep up appearances.
Then nearly a year ago, a miracle occurred and he could afford all the Suman opiate and spice whiskey he desired. And "home" was a lovely place to be at night.
Ellinwood laid his cloak on the silk comforter covering his bed and went to his polished cherry wood wardrobe to unlock the bottom drawer. He took out a large glass bottle full of amber liquid and a silver urn, smiling in anticipation.
A knock sounded on the door.
His smile faded, and he decided not to answer. Anyone calling at this hour had no decent business. If there were some town emergency, his first lieutenant, Darien, could handle it. He himself deserved a rest.
The knock sounded again, and a cold voice said, "Open the door."
Ellinwood flinched. He knew the voice. He placed the bottle and urn back in the drawer and hurried to open the door. In the hallway stood Rashed, the owner of Miiska's largest warehouse. The constable was at a loss for words.
"Um, welcome," he managed to say. "Did we have an appointment?"
"No."
Any contact with Rashed unnerved the constable, but they had such a mutually beneficial relationship that he was determined not to jeopardize it.
"Then, how can I help you?" Ellinwood asked politely.
Rashed entered the room and closed the door. He was so tall that his head nearly touched the low ceiling. He'd never come to the constable's rooms before, and Ellinwood's typical feeling of "nerves" grew to anxiety. An oval mirror in a silver frame reflected the constable's fleshy visage—completely decked out in shades of green velvet. He could not help briefly comparing himself to the perfectly constructed creature now sharing the room with him.
Rashed glanced around briefly. "There's a hunter in town, and if she bothers me or mine, I'll kill her and anyone who tries to assist her, including your guards. Do you understand?"
Ellinwood stared at him and sputtered, "Who do… the new owner of Dunction's? Oh, you've been listening to town gossip. She did not strike me as impressive on any level."
"She is a hunter, and if she hunts here, there will be bloodshed—hers. And you will look the other way, as always."
The constable tried to draw himself up. Although he and Rashed had a clear agreement that any disappearances or dead bodies found would be shabbily investigated, this was the first time Rashed had spoken so openly about shedding blood. And he'd certainly never felt the need to relay such information before the fact.