“So, what the Hell is an Ensi, anyway?” Oak asked, staring at the large three-story mansion bordering the square at the center of Kesh. Made of the same clay brick and covered with a plaster exterior just like the other buildings around it, the manor gave off an understated, but elegant air.

  Light blue walls and tall, white window frames. Well kept plantings of white flowers lined the tiled walkway to the steps of the manor. One look at the house of the Ensi of Kesh told much about the man who called it home. The manor fit seamlessly among the other buildings surrounding the square. It did not insist upon itself or draw the eye, but when you took the time and really looked at it, the quality of the construction shone through.

  “If I understood our innkeeper’s meaning correctly, it’s the equivalent of a mayor, but more unofficial,” Ur-Namma replied. “In any case, the Ensi is the most influential person in town.”

  “Right. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Oak said. “Let’s see if we can persuade him to scratch our back if we scratch his.”

  They had left Sadia and Geezer behind to look after their belongings, while they tried to make some inroads with the wealthy and the powerful. Provisions cost money. Wagons cost money. Animals to tow those wagons cost even more money. When you added the price of a spot in a caravan to the equation, the sum equaled a small fortune.

  A small fortune that they did not have.

  A graying doorman in black robes embroidered with white highlights around the collar and the chest let them in without any fuss, but they had to relinquish their weapons for the duration of their visit. Oak enjoyed the way the smartly dressed manservant's eyes widened when he kept handing the man more and more bladed weaponry.

  He could tell the giant meat cleaver had made an impression on the old chap.

  The frazzled manservant led them up some stairs to the second floor of the mansion and knocked on a door.

  “Enter.”

  The manservant opened the door and ushered Oak and Ur-Namma inside. Beyond the door frame lay a study. Carpets of many colors covered the floorboards and bookshelves filled with tomes lined the cream-colored walls, which spoke of great wealth on the part of their host.

  Wealth that could buy their way north, if they could come to an arrangement.

  A large writing desk made of dark wood dominated the space with its presence, and behind that desk sat the man they had come to meet. Fingers steepled and keen eyes fixed upon his guests, the Ensi of Kesh smiled, flashing his perfect teeth in an artificial smile. His delicate hands emerged from the cuffs of his loose-fitting white robes like two brown sticks, which exaggerated the thinness of his wrists.

  There was golden trim on the chest and cuffs of the Ensi’s robes, Oak noticed. Wealthy indeed.

  “Thank you, Eduard. You may go.”

  The old manservant bowed, and left without a word, closing the door behind him with nary a sound.

  “Halit Dushaj, at your service,” the Ensi said and directed them to take a seat on the armchairs placed in front of his desk. “What can I do for you fine gentlemen?”

  As he sat down, the first thought that popped into Oak’s head was how unassuming Halit Dushaj looked under his fine clothes. At first glance, he had a face like any other, framed by shoulder length black hair and a short beard. He was not short nor was he tall. Not old and not young either. In summary, Halit was disturbingly average. You could have plucked ten men just like him from the streets of this town with no difficulty.

  The Ensi’s only striking feature were his pale green eyes, even if he now had bags under them. When Halit looked at Oak, he felt seen. Like the man had taken his measure with a glance and placed him in a little box inside his mind. Catalogued with a written annotation describing his possible uses.

  “My name is Ur-Namma and the man next to me goes by the name Oak,” Ur-Namma said and leaned back in his armchair. “We were led to believe you have a problem that needs solving.”

  “A problem, huh? That is one way to describe this utter shitshow.” Halit shook his head. “Murdered newborns are bad enough, and yet things might get a lot worse before long, if those responsible are not caught. But before we get into the sordid details of the situation, what interest is it to you?”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  A fair question. Especially since we just walked into town from the wilderness.

  “We too have a problem looking for a solution,” Oak said. “We need to join a caravan heading northwest, but we lack the necessary funds to do so.”

  Halit lifted an eyebrow. “Am I to understand that we could solve each other’s problems?”

  “That is the idea.”

  “My friend and I are both capable theurgists, and while I am currently recovering from a…physical ailment, Oak here is well versed in the art of violence,” Ur-Namma said.

  Oak had to stifle a giggle. Well versed indeed.

  “We could, if you allow it, look into the murder of these babies for you.”

  “An interesting proposition, elder.” Halit leaned forward, gaze flitting between the two of them. “Why should I allow it?”

  “Because we are new in town, and we have the skills to find the murderer,” Ur-Namma replied. “You can trust that we had nothing to do with this horrible crime, which is not something you can say about any resident with complete certainty. Furthermore, we have no prior connections or loyalties to anyone else in the area.”

  Meaning, we will further his interests in this matter. You have a way with words, knife-ear.

  “Fair points, even if some of the major families might not agree with me.” Halit drummed the desk with the tips of his fingers. “Oh, where are my manners? Would you like something to drink?”

  “We would love to,” Ur-Namma said and Oak nodded his assent.

  Halit snapped his fingers. A bottle of translucent liquid and three glasses floated to land on the writing desk from a cabinet behind him. The cabinet doors closed by themselves with a soft click.

  Oak’s eyes widened. The Ensi was a spellsinger. No wonder he is the man in charge around here. Halit poured them both a drink and the glasses floated into their hands.

  “A local liquor made from grapes, fruit and aniseed. I quite enjoy the taste, though I have heard it is not for everyone.” Halit took a drink from his glass and leaned back in his chair with a content sigh. The smile on his face looked more genuine now.

  Clever bastard. He was testing us to see if we would show surprise or not. I guess we passed the test.

  The drink was strong, and the taste had a hint of licorice in it, behind the flavors of fruit and anise. Oak took small sips, since he assumed it would be rude to drink it all down in one go.

  “I am inclined to make a deal with you two, but I have some conditions,” Halit said. “This is an investigation, not an opportunity to wreak havoc in my town. I don’t expect you to solve this case without a bit of blood, but this has to be done cleanly. If and when you find the murderer, you come to me first. Got it?”

  Oak glanced at Ur-Namma and the elf looked back, before they both turned their gazes towards Halit.

  “Sounds acceptable,” Ur-Namma said.

  “Good.” Halit emptied his glass and poured himself another drink. “In that case, it is better I fill you in.”

  The Ensi swallowed, eyes lost in his glass. It was apparent the fate of the babies appalled him, and he did not enjoy talking about the matter. The death of a child was a heavy thing. The death of two even heavier.

  “To summarize, two days ago someone destroyed the wards of the town nursery, and as a result, a poltergeist ate the minds of two newborn babies.” Halit took a sip from his glass and wiped his mouth. “A child of a seamstress and the firstborn of a young couple from the Ferhati family. The Ferhati own a large section of the town docks and they operate a fleet of merchant and fishing vessels.”

  “A shipping family?” Oak asked. Boats are very expensive to make and maintain. That means wealth. They also require a lot of hands to operate. Fuck. This could actually spiral out of control completely.

  “Yes. I am telling you all this because they have a quite long-standing and storied feud with another local merchant clan called the Kashari and, naturally, they are blaming their business competitors for the murder.” Halit let out a tired sigh. “Our own investigation has gone nowhere.”

  “I suppose that has not gone over well?” Ur-Namma asked and sank deeper into the embrace of his armchair.

  The Ensi laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. Only fatigue and exasperation. “No. Both families are at each other's throats. To make matters worse, the Kashari are deflecting the blame towards the refugees living in the encampments outside the town, and sadly, some of the citizenry are listening.” A wry smile crossed Halit’s face. “The patriarch of the Kashari family, Baskim Kashari, held a speech yesterday, calling for the encampments to be destroyed to the sound of thunderous applause. I fear the adoration of the ‘masses’ is rising to his head.”

  Halit sighed, put his glass down and leaned forward, pale green eyes fixed upon Oak and Ur-Namma. His brow furrowed in concern.

  “If this is not stopped, and stopped quickly, I will have a pogrom in my hands. There have already been multiple fist-fights. The town is set to explode.”

  “Yeah. We noticed when we came to town.” Oak nodded. “You could cut the tension with a knife. I can smell it in the air. Wrath and cloying fear.”

  “Then, you understand the severity of the situation,” Halit Dushaj, the Ensi of Kesh, said and clapped his delicate hands together. “Find me the ones responsible, and I will buy you a wagon, some oxen, and a spot on the next caravan heading northwest.”

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