"Yes, well. Maybe I have been misinformed. Nevertheless, I have approval but the guild understands my need for discreet execution of the task at hand."

Murich wasn't so sure now. Ebojager certainly didn't talk like a guild man. He had the rich speak, he used large words all the time. Murich was having difficulty keeping up with the conversation.

"I see I see. So the guild knows. Fair enough. Do you have a marker to show me?"

"Yes I do". A small scroll of paper emerged from under Ebojager's fine black cloak. As he took the scrap, Murich noticed how thin the hand was. A skin tight sleeve and glove, also black, covered any trace of flesh. If Amon had had a beard Murich would have walked out
right then and there. He had no desire to deal with men who hid themselves away. Too risky and you couldn't trust such people.

Murich examined the marker. It had the bronzed seal. The emblem was properly detailed, a wharf, royal fourmast and a hook. He recognised the signatures of Han Dreke and Solomon Kes Horten, one a foreman the other a headman. The few words present on the paper
escaped him. A farmers son in the Empire does not have time for letters. Nor would they be wasted on him. Holding the paper up to the sun now streaming through the window, he could see the water mark. That's why they called them markers, because of the water mark. A clever trick that wasn't readily shared outside the guild.

"It looks good enough. At least I don't have to expect a pair of broken legs from this." He handed back the marker, which vanished with barely a sound under the cloak.

"Now then, coin. What are you paying for this. Also, what are you benefits, what follow on work is there and do I get out of Suiddock?" Murich had been here many times before. Getting out of Suiddock meant working on Wharves in other Wards. The guild liked this, even encouraged it. It lessened the load on Suiddock and any money flowing into Suiddock from other wards was desirable.

"Come come now Herr Pentinbaum, if I pursued a marker I wouldn't be paying benefits now would I? Ten shillings a day flat, which more than makes up for the lack of benefits or further work."

Murich's eyebrows leapt. That sort of price was only heard of in Elfsgemeente, if one was lucky enough. His reply was cut off by the arrival of breakfast. The wholesome scent of warm and popped grain washed over the table. His stomach gave a battle cry as Murich scooped up a spoon and dug in.

The serving girl placed a few coins on the table, two ale mugs were placed on the table as well. Murich paused to drink greedily before turning back to the meal.

He did not speak again until he was finished. He could sense Ebojager's impatience but did not care. He could tell the odd fellow was hiding something, but needed an unscrupulous man for the job. Murich felt his mood drop at that thought.

He wiped at the side of his mouth with his sleeve, which did little to clean his features. "Well, ten shills would definitely do it Herr Ebojager. I'd hate to think what you paid for the marker."

"Quite. So, Can I rely upon your services Herr Pentinbaum?"

"I think I can manage it."

"That's excellent. I knew you'd agree. I suggest you get plenty of rest today and meet me back here at dusk. I can assure you the work will be worth the money I am paying. I have guild backing on that. It should take two weeks to finish this job."

Murich nodded. "Yes Herr Ebojager. Sure is right I'll be with you the whole time."

"I should think so." Ebojager stood. "I shall bid you a Good Morning Herr Pentinbaum."

"Yes, see you tonight Amon."

As the hood came up, Ebojager frowned. "Herr Pentinbaum, whilst I am you employer only refer to me as Herr Ebojager. As I indicated earlier, I wish to keep our relationship a formal one. Farewell."

Amon moved off silently. Murich looked to the table and saw only 4 shillings sitting there. As the front door closed at Ebojager's retreat, Murich called the serving girl over.

She took her time, collecting ale mugs and fiddling with lavender bags on the way. Murich could tell she was deliberately trying to insult him. Judging by the state of business in the street, it was a habit she should learn to break.

She finally arrived. "Yes Herr, may I get you something more?"

Murich's spirit was buoyed by his good fortune at meeting Amon, or should he say Herr Ebojager. He was not about to take any lip from some slip of a girl.

"Yes, seeing as how you have returned my money one shill short, you can put it and the insult towards a room for the night. I don't expect to be paying any more."

"I had to take an extra shill for the water and for my trouble."

"No, I ordered that water with the lot from the start, and the price was ten and five. Don't try to fleece me you little skag."

A heavy hand fell on Murich's shoulder. A gruff voice sounded from behind it.

"Hi Dungherd. Don't talk to my girl like that."

Murich stiffened. He felt the sensation of fear spread out from his heart, his hands started to shake. A panicked look crossed the girls face and she turned, moving for the bar. Murich wished he had the self control to impress her now. Even if he never saw her again, he
was sure to see himself in the mirror.

The hand never left his shoulder as he stood. He hoped, even prayed, that he wasn't about to relive his shame.