The Seeds of Mistrust

The air was filled with more than shadowed fall warmth, it hung more with residual joy and comradery left over from the festival the previous week. Walking about the bustling storefronts and booths, one could clearly the see the town was drunk on community, all despite the constant murmurings spreading through crowds, brawls have broken out, pockets were getting picked at a higher rate than usual, and there was even some speak of a woman guard who was supposedly poisoned. Thus, shopkeepers and market-goers gave glancing looks to the man in dark and worn armor as he weaved through the early morning crowds. On a normal day, he would be another one of the crowd, but today he was occupying the corners of everyone's eyes.

No surprise there… Halmond thought as he weaved his way through the market crowd, keeping his head down he slouched his way toward the alleyways leading back to the entertainment district. In these times, the guards are lucky to find anyone who will trust them… “I used to think I didn’t belong on the list…” He muttered quietly to himself, turning his head just so that he could take a quick glance behind him. Standing a hundred yards back was Marachar Garnder, a town guard who was filled a little to high with virtue, sending a glare so full of fire that Halmond was surprised it wasn’t burning right through his back. He turned his head back and ducked around the corner behind a blacksmith.
“Damn him, damn him, damn him” He muttered in insatiable annoyance. If ‘him’ was a name, Halmond would have killed him through pure thought, however, ‘him’ referred to Brem Boneslayer, a higher up in the town guard. His long life had developed cracks which had let a lot of the dignity the man once had leak out over the seasons, thus it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience to become “friends” with him. To Halmond, friends back up other friends, help them out. What happened today at Sprick Grimmer’s store was anything but friendly. He rubbed his left arm, still sore from the roughness with which he had been treated with being shoved out of the store.
I hadn’t even stolen anything, it’s as if he was waiting to see me there… He thought as he ducked another corner, putting himself into the maze of alleyways going south from the market. How did it go wrong? Halmond wondered as he went back to the conversation he had earlier that day.

---

“So spit it out then, Mire. What are you talking about here?”
Halmond looked slightly downward, a smirk spreading on his face. He walked toward Brem, who was lounging behind his desk. “I’m just saying, this festival’s got the town mixing together like milk and honey. Who’s to say what happened if a few personal possessions are lost? So much commotion and people bumping into each other, there’s just no way of telling.”
Brem looked lazily at Halmond, his eyes were half closed, giving off the impression that he was already almost asleep. But instead of snoring, Brem instead let out a labored sigh as he shifted up in his chair and put his arms on his desk.
“You could talk circles around me all day, but like the sun sets, you’re gonna tell me what you want here.”
Halmond’s smirk disappeared, his natural expression of indifference and seriousness overtook it. “Look, I know that you’ve got half the thieves in Mythrite backed up by guards. All I want is exactly the same thing.”
“Tell ya what.” Brem sat back once more, folding his hands across his bulbous stomach. “If you want in, you’re in. But I’ll tell ya, I’ve already got a lot of you guys running around this festival, and you can’t be getting in their way.”
“What do you propose then?” Halmond inquired as he started leaning on the wooden wall of the room.
“Got some new shops that look to be doing well right now. Sprick Grimmer especially, you ever meet him in your ‘business’?”
“Never met the guy.”
“Well, you’re about to.”

---

Better think of something to tell him…doubt Garnder will care to tell anyone about this, if I can just convince him…
Halmond stalked through the labyrinth of alleyways leading away from the market, rage from the incident still radiating off his huddled form. He hastily took the hood of his cuirass down rubbed the back of his head in agitation. Part of him wondered if this was all Brem’s doing in the first place, setting him up to get rid of him, seemed like the kind of play a washed-up coward like Brem would make.
I have to get back in there. Even if he did set me up, I’m gonna show him I can get the job done. I don’t care who stands in my way… Halmond’s mind raced, analyzing every moment of the incident, trying to find a way back in. Reaching the door of his house, he slid through it quickly and locked the door behind him. He started to remove his armor and pockets, sitting himself down on his bed. No sooner had he done that, then he heard a rapid knock on his door. Gripping the knife he kept on his thigh, he drew it out and walked slowly to the sound of the knocking. He slowly unlocked the door and opened it just enough to one eye to see out.
Standing outside was an urchin, not much older than ten years. His breathing was labored, as if he had sprinted from wherever he came from the whole way. Halmond opened his mouth, but before he got a chance to speak, the child said hurridly,
“Are you Sir Mire?”
Halmond gave him a suspicious eye but soon answered, “Aye. What do you need?”
The child spoke quickly again, almost running out of breath as he answered. “I’ve been sent to tell you of Miss Bethana. She’s ill, sir. Some said poisoned.”
Halmond’s eye shifted, shock overcoming him. He opened the door all the way and stood over the child.
“What happened? Poisoned by who?”
“Elmita Armsglow, sir.”