Free Master of Plagues: A Nicolas Lenoir Novel by E.L. Tettensor Page A

cure is known among the northern clans, for this plague has struck them before.”
    “When?”
    “Not in our lifetime, but the Adali pass such knowledge from father to son, from mother to daughter, for every season comes again.”
    “Death isn’t a season,” Kody said, annoyed.
    Merden raised an eyebrow. “What an odd thing to say, Sergeant. Death is the most reliable season of them all.”
    Lenoir clucked his tongue impatiently. “Someone in Kennian knows this cure. Otherwise, there would beAdali victims, and many of them.” The Camp was nearly a quarter Adali, after all.
    “Perhaps there are,” Merden said. “It may simply be that the Adali who fall ill do not present themselves at your Braelish clinics. My people have little faith in your medicine. We prefer to seek treatment among our own kind.”
    “That is possible, but it bears investigating. Will you help?”
    “How can I help? I have already told you that I do not know the cure, if indeed such a thing exists.”
    “The Camp is under quarantine, a blockade enforced by the Metropolitan Police, and I am about to go canvassing the locals about Adali magic. I would think the matter is plain.”
    The soothsayer grunted. “I suppose it is at that.”
    “So you will come?”
    Merden sighed, his eyes roaming regretfully over the shop. “The summer months are best for business,” he said, “for spirits grow restless when the sun is near.”
    Lenoir had no idea what to say to that.
    “I will come, Inspector, but give me a moment to prepare.”
    “Certainly. We will wait for you outside.”
    “You sure this is a good idea?” Kody asked as they stepped out onto the street. “With tempers the way they are, it might not be safe for him to walk around town right now.”
    “No more than it is safe for us to walk around the Camp. Hopefully, we can avoid drawing attention to ourselves. In any case, Merden can take care of himself, just as we can.” He patted the sword at his hip for emphasis.
    Kody eyed it dubiously. “You carrying a gun too?” The sergeant did not have much faith in Lenoir’s ability to wield a blade, a misgiving that was not entirely unwarranted.
    Lenoir pulled his coat back, exposing the butt of aflintlock. Kody looked reassured.
As though I am any better with the damn pistol,
Lenoir thought.
    A moment later, Merden came out of the shop. At the sight of him, Kody groaned softly, and even Lenoir struggled to hide his dismay. The soothsayer had donned a traditional Adali cloak, a spectacular garment of dyed purple wool and bloodred embroidery. Horn beads fringed a wide, drooping cowl, and a rune of some kind was picked out in tiles of bleached bone down the back. It was the most elaborate specimen of its kind Lenoir had ever seen, and though undeniably handsome, it would not exactly blend in with everyday Kennian attire. In the unlikely event that the casual observer should fail to notice the cloak, Merden had helpfully chosen a seven-foot tall walking stick of ebony and bone. They wanted only a herd of cattle to complete the picture.
    The soothsayer hoisted a sling of leather pouches over each shoulder and locked the door to his shop. “I am ready, Inspector.”
    “We’d better get horses,” Kody said. “Can you ride, Merden?”
    The Adal stared at him.
    “Right,” Kody said, coloring. He might as well have asked a fish if it could swim.
    Lenoir started off toward the station. Already, he could feel the eyes of the entire market square upon them, though whether hostile or merely curious, he could not tell.
    This day was about to get very interesting.

C HAPTER 6
    T hey left the horses at the Fishering barricade and crossed Addleman’s Bridge on foot. Already, Lenoir could see that the pestilence houses had swelled in number, overtaking the view from the river. Ahead, the barricade loomed forbiddingly, its timber frame packed in with sandbags and capped with spear points. Watchmen armed with crossbows manned makeshift towers at both