Hell's Fountain: The Killing Sands

When I saw the hazel eyes gazing coolly at me from across the crowded market I knew the killer had struck again. The woman looking at me through those hazel eyes held her gaze on me for only a moment before she turned to vanish into the bustle of people forcing their way to the merchant’s stalls. Next to me, Yosef raised one hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked across the desert.

"By the First Well, it looks as if we have another one." He twisted his lips and brought his hand down to slap the scabbard of his sword. "That makes three in as many days, Saxon. The Magistrates won’t be happy about this."

I looked over my shoulder toward the open desert, squinting against the harsh glare off the barren hills. Carrion birds were circling over something about a two hours walk from the walls of the city. They were always drawn to the bodies, but something kept them from getting too close. Whoever was doing the killing apparently wanted us to be able to recognize the victims when we reached the body. I wished the bizarre form of consideration, if it could be called that, extended to leaving the bodies closer to the walls of Hell’s Fountain.

"Shall I round up the troops, sir?" Sergeant Gervais came to attention with an unmistakable air of hopefulness. No one liked babysitting the market place when a trade caravan came to the city. It took days to get the smell of the camels out of your nose. We had a job to do though.

"Only the second file, Sergeant Gervais." I hesitated a moment and Yosef muttered a curse under his breath. Gervais frowned as if he had just smelled something worse than camel. "Send a messenger to find Guard-Captain Menes as well. I doubt he’ll come, but at least we can say we made the effort."

"You have a point. The man would die of thirst if he had to take two steps toward water." Yosef’s face formed itself into the expression that passed for his smile. He was a good friend, but perhaps the ugliest man in all of Creation. The Blue Watch, of which he was Guard-Captain, seemed to favor ugly men. Yosef said it kept the citizens in line.

"Yes sir." Gervais saluted and walked away to carry out my instructions. I was not sure if he had been acknowledging my orders or agreeing with Yosef’s assessment of the Guard-Captain of the Inner Watch.

"Tage!" A peevish voice rolled over the general background noise of the marketplace.

"This being your district, I’ll let you handle that fat little Northerner, may the desert dry his bones." Yosef grinned at me, perhaps it was a leer, and sped through the North Gate as the Merchant Chieftain descended upon me like a winter storm.

I considered Ustean the standard by which to judge all other merchant chieftains from my homeland in the northern mountains. He flaunted his wealth in the finery of his robes, the gold on his fingers, and the rotund shape barely encircled by his clan belt. The golden stags on the strained leather belt seemed to leap in the sun as Ustean and his ample belly jostled their way across the marketplace. The merchant’s red face glared out at me from under his foxskin cap.

"Tage! Where are those men going, Tage?" Ustean’s voice, particularly when he was bellowing, had the same effect as sand under your clothes. It left you irritated and feeling in need a bath.