Poviedky a novely: Nakupovanie so zbelenými hánkami

Novela

(C) 2023 P. Molnár 
(C) 2023 Knight-Errant Studios 

 

NAKUPOVANIE SO ZBELENÝMI HÁNKAMI

Babie leto prechádzalo do riadnej jesene. Dážď a chlad dorazili krátko pred poludním. Dážď pominul, chlad zotrval.
Postava v koženom kabátci s rukávmi a v klobúku so širšou strieškou stála na ulici v Melze, pred obchodom PRE Ye Olde Blade Shoppe PRE.
Vnútri obchodu bolo pomerne teplo, k čomu prispievalo aj drevené obloženie niektorých vnútorných stien. Výstavné police a menšie výkladné skrine rôzneho typu viseli zo stien, vystavujúc na obdiv plejádu najrôznejších kuchynských nožov, nožov na jedenie a príborov, loveckých a zálesáckych nožov, vojenských nožov a dýk, dvojsečných i jednosečných mečov...

Dvere sa otvorili, malý zvonček nad nimi zacengal, neznáma postava vstúpila.
Majiteľ obchodu postával za pultom, chrbtom bol ešte otočený k vchodu, práve kontroloval časť tovaru.
"Dobrý deň, pane," povedal ženský hlas. Pokojný, no sebaistý hlas. Dvere sa zavreli.
Skaal Grahnarf, majiteľ a predavač obchodu Ye Olde Blade Shoppe, sa otočil a zahľadel na zákazníčku.
"Zdravím," povedal svojím hlbokým, zastreným hlasom. Položil svoje rozmerné a silné ruky, chlpaté ruky s pazúrmi, pripomínajúce laby, na hlavný pult.
Ako nasvedčovalo jeho patronymické rodinné meno s koncovkou -narf, Skaal bol rosommužom, gulonom. Veľmi zriedkavý výjav v strednom Aporue, aj v radoch najrôznejších príslušníkov zveroľudu.
Hoci jeho tvár nevyzrádzala žiadne emócie, bol hádam trošku prekvapený z najnovšieho zákazníka, i keď nie práve zarazený.
Pani, mlado pôsobiaca ľudská žena priemernej výšky, bola oblečená v odeve, ktorý sa častejšie stotožňoval s mužskými nositeľmi. V Melze i väčšine ostatných krajov v Aporue nebolo až také zvláštne vidieť ženy nosiť úžitkovejšie ladené šatstvo, vrátane nohavíc a podobne. Skaala namiesto toho prekvapilo, že žena mala na sebe kožený kabátec svetlejších odtieňov, približne krémovo hnedej až svetlozelenej farby, a to toho typu, aký by ste vídali u vojakov, dobrodruhov i niektorých živánov. Práve si zložila čierny (alebo veľmi tmavý) klobúk so širokou strieškou, ktorý mala nasadený pri vstupe. Druh klobúka, aký ste takmer nikdy nevídali na hlave ženy. Mala obyčajné hnedé vlasy, po plecia, ale teraz zapletené do uzla.
Tvár ženy prezrádzala sebaisté, pokojné, trpezlivé vystupovanie.
Skaal, like all beastpeople, had no interest in human women or any human visage at all, but he figured human men would likely find her somewhat plain-faced. Perhaps even fairly pretty, attractive, by their human standards. Who even knows, with those madcap Bigfolk. They were a strange bunch. Then again, so were the other mustelid cousins of his own wolverfolk. Nevermind the other beastfolk !
All that said, like many of his human customers, she was taller than him, what with the wolverfolk known for their stockier build, even compared to their martenfolk cousins. Strength-wise, though, any human would be in big trouble if they ever angered a wolveriman.
"May I interest you in anything, ma'am ?" opýtal sa Skaal vecne, až to znelo takmer znudene alebo bez záujmu.
"Áno. Chcela by som poobzerať po vašom obchode. Možno mi aj budete vedieť pomôcť. Aby som prešla k veci, zháňam menšiu zbraň na sebaobranu. I already have something specific in mind," she explained in an accent that sounded somewhat familiar to him. Not directly, but... Sounded... northern.
"I'm always pleased when a customer isn't just dithering indecisively, but has at least a rough idea of what they want to purchase," he said.
"Now that is a compliment..." a little smile formed on her face, seemingly in approval of the shopkeeper's attitude.
"My own opinion is that shopping should never be a rushed experience. Especially if you want to buy a quality tool or weapon that's intended to serve you for years and years. I don't sell inferior stuff to anyone, and I steer clear of inferior products in this little establishment of mine. I consider its good reputation key to my business success. Ye Olde Blade Shoppe is an emporium for quality wares and goods only. You'll hardly find a finer place in this entire city. Ye Olde Blade Shoppe has it all, ma'am," he smiled back. It was a non-toothy smile, but there was just the slightest hint of large canine teeth hidden behind the muzzle of his otherwise unthreatening lips.
"That was an excellent advert, sir. Almost seemlessly introduced into our conversation," she remarked.
"If I may be so bold... You're not from this area, are you, ma'am ? You're originally a foreigner, like me. Perhaps also from the north."
"Takes one to know one, I suppose," she shrugged and nodded. "Yes, I'm from a northern country. Specifically..."
"One moment," he raised a furry palm, gently, then placed it back on his other hand on the counter. "Let me guess. Judging by the accent, you don't sound like women in Metsämaa, at least not to my recollection. None of the northern nomadic tribes, whether in Metsämaa, or in the wilderness of the North. And I've heard the sort of accent you have before. Not Lokytian or Aethelian. My guess is... You're Hrímlandic. Likely with a -dautír in your patronymic."
She gave him a wide-eyed look, nodded in appreciation, chuckled.
"You're not bad at assessing your customers."
"Madam, since we're already doing all this chit-chat..."
Raising his robust, large, paw-like furry hand over the counter, he offered her a handshake.
"...I'd like to introduce myself properly. Skaal Grahnarf, Son of Grahr. I'm the owner and proprietor of this fine establishment."
"Rada vás spoznávam, pán Grahnarf. Volám sa Tóla Titavháugsdautír."
"To mi je ale jazykolam, madam. Ak vám to nebude prekážať, budem sa držať vášho krstného mena."
"Súhlasím ! Áno, som pôvodne z Hrímlandu. Rodáčka, vyrastala som tam. Ale teraz žijem tu," zaváhala, poobzerala sa po miestnosti, blúdila pohľadom po policiach a výkladných skriniach. "Zdá sa, že som prišla na správne miesto."
"Veru tak. Dajte na moje slová, madam. V celom tomto mieste len sotva nájdete lepší, profesionálnejší obchod, v ktorom si môžete zakúpiť kuchynské alebo dielenské náčinie, nástroje, sečné zbrane alebo iné chladné zbrane, než môj Ye Olde Blade Shoppe. Hoci som túto predajňu nezaložil, keď som sa presťahoval do tohto mesta pred niekoľkými rokmi a rozhodol sa tu ostať a podnikať, prevzal som tento obchod, vtedy živoriaci podnik, a postupne ho obrátil na šťastnejší kurz. Mnohí mi vtedy hovorievali, Skaal, rúbeš privysoko, a čím vyššie budeš rúbať, tým tvrdšie dopadneš na zem... No ja som dokázal, že sa mýlia," zakončil spokojne a dlaňou úctivo poklepal hladký povrch pultu, ako keby chcel zdôrazniť úspech svojho poctivého podnikania. "Och, ale, prepáčte... Nemám v úmysle vás tu nudiť  historkami o mojom osobnom podnikateľskom snažení. Prejdime k obchodným záležitostiam," vysvetlil pomaly a pokojne, a celé to zakončil tajuplným úsmevom.
"Vskutku."
"Hm, ešte jedna vec, madam. Chcel som sa opýtať už skôr, ale vyhol som sa tomu, keďže ste úplne novou zákazníčkou..." zaváhal.
Hľadel dole na Tólin opasok, kývol k nemu bradou, a ukázal naň svojím pazúrom zakončeným prstom.
Ukazoval na obrys puzdra na pištoľ.
"Tak, a teraz sa chcem opýtať. Predtým, než pristúpime k akémukoľvek nákupu... Je toto prepad, lúpež ? Máte povolenie nosiť na vašom opasku tú pištoľ ? Neberiem na ľahkú váhu, ak mi ľudia vpochodujú do PRE Ye Olde Blade Shoppe PRE s palnou zbraňou."
Zahľadela sa dole na puzdro, potom na Skaala. Jej výraz tváre zvážnel, bol v ňom náznak zahanenia.
"Vysvetlím vám to..."
"Madam, to dúfam. Okamžite. Mám dva dôvody, prečo sa pýtam, a oba sú rozumné: Po prvé. Nepredávam ani nekupujem akékoľvek palné zbrane. Nie som ich odporcom ich používania, ako väčšina môjho ľudu s ich tvrdohlavo vyznávanými tradíciami, ale nie som podnikateľom v danej oblasti. Po druhé. Viete veľmi dobre, že y well that the Melzan government permits the carrying of firearms on the city streets, in public buildings and in most private housing only under very particular and very clearly stated conditions. So you'd better get to explaining fast, or I might be... forced to take certain measures," vysvetlil zdvorilo, no trochu chladne.

Tóla mu podala kartičku s licenciou, vyrobenú z odolných materiálov. Pozorne si ju preštudoval.
"Áááá..." zahmkal, so záujmom. "Súkromná vyšetrovateľka ?" spýtavo nadvihol obočia. "Nemal som ani poňatia, že sú v tomto meste aj ženskí súkromní vyšetrovatelia. Počul som, že Mesto dokáže niektorým zveriť licenciu súkromného očka, v spoluprácii s Mestskou strážou, pod ich dohľadom, ale nepočul som o tom, že by im poskytovalo špeciálnu licenciu pre nosenie zbrane."
"Istý čas som pracovala ako detektívka aj doma na Hrímlande. Vzdelávala a praxovala som sa aj v zámorí, tu na kontinente, podobne ako vy, hoci v oblasti vyšetrovania, nie vo vašom druhu práce. Veci sa napokon vyvinuli tak, že som sa rozhodla ostať na kontinente a usadiť sa v tomto meste. Od tých čias robím v Melze detektívnu prácu na voľnej nohe. Čo sa týka pobytu a práce v tomto meste, máte v porovnaní so mnou náskok niekoľkých rokov. A... čo sa týka... prívlastku prvé ženské súkromné očko ? Z toho, čo som počula, som možno vôbec prvou v dejinách Melzy, veru áno."
"Mmhmm..."
"Ako vidíte, moja licencia zahŕňa aj právo nosiť príručnú palnú zbraň. I keď čisto pre sebaobranu alebo obranu okolidúcich neozbrojených občanov," prevzala licenčnú kartičku od Skaala, ktorý jej ju podával späť. "Prísne vzaté, pán Grahnarf, ak by som sa niekedy ocitla v situácii, keby som potrebovala použiť búchačku, nepoužijem ju - a ani nemôžem použiť - bez poriadneho dôvodu. Ak by som spôsobila prestrelku na uliciach, alebo sa do jednej zamotala a správala nerozumne, zodpovedám sa priamo tak Lordovi Starostovi ako i Náčelníkovi Stráže."
"Hm. Každý deň sa dozvedám niečo nové."
Uvoľnila remienok-poistku na koženom puzdre, opatrne vytiahla jej pištoľ a podržala ju v oboch dlaniach, pred Skaalovým zrakom.
Bola to korenička, s rotujúcim zhlukom hlavní, a very recent caplock mechanism behind it (though seemingly one converted from an earlier flintlock), a trigger, and a grip more vertical than was usual for most handguns. By Aporuean standards, it was a very "modern" pistol design. It shared some resemblance with its more recently invented and still very rare cousins, early revolvers. In a world where one-shot handguns were still the standard, this pepperbox pistol offered some serious firepower, especially at shorter distances.
"Impressive," said Skaal. "Not too much decoration, aside of a few small elements on the grip, but seems quite sturdy. Unfortunately, I'm no gunsmith, so you'll have to ask other people for an assessment. I'm guessing it's a custom design ? What's the rate of fire ?"
"I'd rather not disclose too much about it, but it's fairly fast if you have it fully loaded and unwind round after round in close succession. That said, it has the obvious problem of running out of rounds quickly if I fire it all in one go. Accuracy's fairly mediocre, but that's the thing with pepperboxes, isn't it ? Even with a high-quality one like this. I don't really need a gun for longer distances, as most of the potential shoout-outs I could get into, here in the city, and even in a rural area, would be at short to medium distances. And whether it's custom ? Yes, it is."
"Hm."
"Vyrobená istým hrímlandským puškárom z nášho hlavného mesta, vo veľmi obmedzenom počte. He had some ideas of his own, and also took some inspiration from abroad. Hrímland's not exactly the gunsmithing capital of Aporue, you know."
"One has to wonder what Hrímlandic bladesmiths are like," smiled Skaal.
"Maybe a bit more known outside the island," she shrugged. "As for this type of pepperbox, there were only ten or so made, at most a dozen. One of them ended up as the handgun of my father. A gift from a friend of his, who knew that particular gunsmith. My father worked for law enforcement in our capital."
"Ha, ancestral weapons... In my homeland, it'd be an axe or a sword. Sometimes a shield," opined Skaal. "You're a private investigator, so largelly following in your father's footsteps."
"Correct," she said and put the gun back in the holster, securing it safely.
"Seems the apple had not fallen far from the tree."
"I wouldn't know that from experience. There aren't many apple trees where I come from. Wood in general is a prized, cherished thing."
"Very different from the forested, abundant in wood homeland of my people. How can our wolverfolk cousins in Hrímland cope with that..."
"I'd say they manage, after all these centuries of living there, much like we humans found a way to live in that land. It's a harsh place, with its pecularities, but we don't find them all that strange. Do you know what bigfolk, dwarves and wolverfolk alike say about forests in Hrímland ?"
"What ?"
"Ak sa stratíte v hrímlandskom lese, prestaňte čupieť a postavte sa na rovné nohy," krátko sa zachichúňala.
"Well, I'll be... Makes sense, though. I'm guessing even the wood used for the grip of your pepperbox was expensive material."
"It was certainly something you avoided wasting carelessly. Every good bit of wood is worthwhile. Some in Hrímland have started an effort to plant groves with local tree species. Tend to them, enlarge them over time into small forests... An effort for several generations."
"I can imagine," he nodded, and changed the topic. "You've mentioned your gun can run out of rounds fairly quickly, if you decide to fire each barrel particularly fast. I'm assuming that's why you've come to Ye Olde Blade Shoppe. You want a melee sidearm, as a backup."
"Opäť hádate správne !" jej hlas zazvonil súhlasom. "Aby som bola úplne úprimná, ako súkromné očko, zažila som už pár incidentov, pri ktorých som si uvedomila, že nosiť si so sebou len búchačku  mi nepomôže, ak sa niekto rozhodne zaútočiť na mňa zblízka. Nie som žiadna bojovná povaha, pán Grahnarf, no dobrý detektív musí byť z času na čas pripravený na sebaobranu. Why risk things by having inadequate equipment ?"
"Yes. So, about those goods you were looking for..."
"Jasné. Hľadám menšiu zbraň pre obranu zblízka. One that's easy to conceal in a pocket or another corner of one's outer clothes, or even in footwear. Not really a bladed weapon, you understand... I was thinking more along the lines of... say, a knuckleduster."
"Ah," Skaal raised his eyebrows slightly, and did a tiny nod that might have been just as likely to be sincere or ironic. "Though I myself do not favour such sneakier, or shall we say... more thuggish weapons, I know many find them convenient for self-defence."
"Are you sure you're not a Hrímlander by birth ?", asked Tóla. "You're quite the erudite-sounding man, Mr. Grahnarf."
"Well... Thank you," he hesitated. a mild frown appearing on his face. "Why would me being polite and professional to customers single me out as a wolverineman from your island ? No, I'm not from Hrímland... miss. I'm from the North, from an area where we continue to rule ourselves. It's been a while since I've seen my relatives. At a younger age, I went south, in search of education, learning trades not common among us, eventually becoming a merchant and shopkeeper myself. And here we are today. I've been running this honest little business for a while now and it's helped me feel more secure living here in Melza."
"I see. Quite the contrast between what one usually imagines about the wolverfolk from your homeland. Please don't take offence."
"None taken."
"It's just that your people, over in the North, are quite outspoken about their traditional lifestyle. Not too fond of cities or more advanced technology."
"Believe me... my words and my behaviour, it's not an act. I'm not trying to sound intentionally... soppy-sticker-ed."
"Erm, I think you mean sophisticated," a tiny smile appeared on her lips.
"Ah, that's the word ! Yes, sophisticated. See ?," he let out a gruff-sounding chuckle. "Given that particular proper melee, I doubt I'm some... intellectual type. I just want to be an honest shopkeeper, knowledgeable about my line of work, running an honest business."
"I think you meant... malaproper. A malapropism. Not proper melee."
"Hrrrm. Yes, I suppose. Anyway, about that knuckleduster," he said and walked over to the left section of the counter, at a 90 ° degree angle.
Shifting a little switch, he opened a concealed display case, its outer wooden panel sliding away, revealing a front and top glass pane, and behind it, the small weapons in question. A small light-reflecting mirror system on the ceiling above the counter cast several cones of light onto the display case's contents. (Electric lighting, though already experimented with in some interiors and exteriors of The City, was still far too expensive to implement in even a specialist shop like Skaal's.) The light shined on a whole array of knuckledusters.

Skaal's finger was aimed at the weapons on display, behind the glass panes.
"Feel free to choose something to your liking, miss private eye," he moved his hand in a slow wiping motion above the display case. "I have specimens suitable for several possible hand sizes, and of those, for both human and beastfolk customers. As you can see, I also offer these knuckledusters in several design variations. You have these traditional, more rounded ones, as well as these with conical or angular protrusions, or even this type with an almost push dagger-like holding style and additional protrusion."
"Truth be told, Mr. Grahnarf, I'm not looking for anything overdesigned. I'll go with the ordinary, rounded outside rim design. I feel it'll be more than sufficient for my needs as a private investigator. Just the right balance between easy concealment and enough sturdiness to fight back hand-to-hand."
"I don't know much about the mental, investigative and research side of a detective's work, but as far as your knowledge of self-defence goes, ma'am, you seem to have a sober view of things."
"Thank you, Mr. Grahnarf. What a nice compliment ! I'm not one to get into scrapes. I prefer to avoid them altogether. I don't like the idea of hauling around blades, not even for self-defence. Rubs me the wrong way. But a completely ordinary knuckleduster, that I find far better-suited to my personal needs and personal tastes."
Skaal picked up one of the ordinary knuckledusters with the simple, rounded outside rim. He handed it to Tóla.
She put it on her palm, weighing it in her hand, rocking her hand slightly up and down to guess the heft.
"Would you also like to try this one ?" asked Skaal, handing her a different model, though with the same basic design.
"Don't mind if I do," she put the first one on the counter, accepted the other one, and started weighing it by hand.
"The fingers go inside the holes, just below the front striking surfaces. The dimensions of the two models I gave you are very similar. You should try out both, to see which one fits your hand better and feels more comfy. It won't do you much good if it fits your hand badly and feels akward to use in an emergency. As for the backrest bar here, you rest it comfortably against the strong end of your palm..."
"Kind of you, but I know how a knuckleduster works."
"Just reminding you of how to hold it properly, ma'am. If you ever have to pull it out for self-defence, you can't waste time."
"True."
"I've estimated the appropriate size of the holes needed for fingers the size of your's, and gave you the two models I have in stock, for human hands, and for your finger size," he explained. He held up a similarly sized model, but with visibly larger finger holes. "This one is intended for some of the beastpeoples with more substantive fingers. Including my people," he said, and demonstrated putting it on his hand. His fingers would have felt tighter and uncomfortable in a model intended for human-sized fingers. Skaal did a few imaginary punches in the air, then flicking his wrist and showing his style of holding the palm-rest of the weapon. "Clear enough ?"
"Crystal," replied Tóla, already putting on one of the two weapons, checking if she can rest the bar against her palm without it slipping.
After doing a few air punches of her own in the middle of the customer space, gradually becoming more confident, she returned to the counter. She put on the other knuckleduster, went back to the middle of the customer area, repeated her little tests, then walked back.
She weighed them in her hands one last time, then decided.
"All right," she placed one of them on the counter. "This one."
"Ma'am, I'll take the liberty in informing you we don't gift-wrap this particular range of products," Skaal looked at her with a dead-serious expression.
She smiled, shook her head and prepared her money pouch.
"That said, I'm certain you won't be disappointed. I cooperate with a few local smiths, and these are quality, high-end weapons. Not some cheap thing home-made from scrap steel," he added, and started checking the griffins she was putting on the counter.

The door bell rang again.
Tóla turned her head with interest, seemed to recognize the figure. Skaal raised his head just slightly, busy with checking the money.
"You ?" asked Tóla, with a hint of surprise.
"Ah, Mr. Púrebrú," mumbled Skaal, still focused on counting the coins.
"Hello," said the man, decently dressed in non-ostentatious clothing, but with a somewhat scruffy quality to his apperance. He had dark-coloured hair and a beard or thick stubble of equal colour. "Mr. Grahnarf, sorry to bother you, but I've brought a thing I'd like you to look at, with your expert eye."
"Just a moment, have to take care of this customer. Are you..."
"Yes, I happen to be in a bit of a hurry," said Púrebrú.
"You don't say. You always seem to be in a hurry, whenever you've visited my shop," intoned Skaal, finishing the count. "I've heard from other shopkeepers and other townsmen you're in a hurry a little too often."
"I'll wait, but don't be long," sighed Púrebrú. He was clearly trying to sound unphased and professional, but felt a bit of frustration.
"We're almost finished here," noted Tóla.
Skaal walked over to a larger mechanical machine at the centre of the counter-top. He quickly wound a crank, pulled a lever. There was a metallic, spring-loaded sound, as a metal drawer deployed itself from the bottom part of the machine.
His customers couldn't see it from their side of the room, but the machine had a mechanical readout, counting the numbers of payed coins with every numerical keystroke and flicking of a switch. The cash lockbox at the bottom of the machine was unlocked, the shopkeeper sorting the coins he was given.
"Vidím, že idete s dobou, pán Grahnarf. A cashier-calc," opined Tóla. "Still rare in most shops. Wonder what your own people would think about one of their kin using a machine like this..."
"I'm hardly obsessed with novelties, ma'am," remarked Skaal while pressing numerical buttons and flicking small switches, sorting the coins in their reserved slots in the machine's lockbox. "This also isn't one of those newer attempts, powered artificially by who knows what..."
"What would you say if I told you I have some experience with not only mechanical calcs, but those... newer, more untried types... as well ?"
"She has, indeed," said Púrebrú, still standing near the entrance, his voice rather colourless.
"You two seem to know each other," said Skaal, pressing the metal drawer back into the machine, until there was an audible clicking sound. Shut tight, locked. "Hopefully not in a criminal capacity," he raised his eyes from the cashier-calc, with a somewhat glum expression. "I'm hoping this isn't a cunning set-up of some sort..."
"We've worked together before... somewhat loosely... on a case or two," Púrebrú said, with Tóla giving a nod to his words. "Just keep calm, Mr. Grahnarf. No robberies planned. I'm not desperate for your or anyone's cash. I doubt she'd be, either," concluded Púrebrú.
"Two private investigators in the same shop, at once. My shop, even..." Skaal shook his head, clearly befuddled by this occurence.
"Technically, I consider myself more of an... investigative reporter, snooper" replied Púrebrú quietly.
Skaal pulled a second, smaller lever on the side of the cashier-calc. The end of a paper roll exited a slit in the device. A subtle cutting or snipping sound heard from the inside indicated the roll had been cut off at the end. Skaal gently tore off the end of the paper roll, now hanging on only by a thread. He carefully split it in two and gave one of the pieces to Tóla.
"Oh, I didn't know some of them are capable of that. Thank you," said Tóla, taking the receipt. "Truth be told, I might have a fair bit of experience with some of the message and communication calcs available at this point, but I've never worked with a cashier-calc."
"The more you know..." smiled Skaal. He pointed his clawed, furry finger to the side levers, not far from the crank. "When I do the number keystrokes, for the individual coin values, each of the keystrokes activates a little printing mechanism that prints out the value onto a revolving roll of paper, inside the machine. Once I'm done, I pull this secondary, smaller lever here, it dispenses and cuts off the end of the paper roll, with a complete receipt. One half for me, for book-keeping, one half for the customer. Easy-peasy."
"No more fiddling with hand-written receipts, ey ?" smiled Tóla. "Does seem to be quite the time-saver."
"In my case, it's not so much about saving time, as me not wanting to waste time with hand-written notes. While it might seem otherwise, it's also not about me being insufficiently traditionalist. All this technological progress... Call it an old prejudice ingrained by my upbringing, but I'm not fond of its pace. As I've said, this cashier-calc is a purely mechanical thing. None of those bewildering, mad, experiential attempts to power a calc with... basically, lightning... like some boffins are trying now."
"I think you mean experimental, Mr. Grahnarf," Tóla said quietly.
"Ah, yes, experimental. Quite right, that's the word I'm looking for. Simply put, this metal device, as new-fangled as it is, is still a thing of simple, understandable movements. But those latest calcs they're trying out now, fueled by... well, man-made lightning... that's just not right, in my book. Gunpowder is already wild enough. Maybe its my people's upbringing, maybe our superstitions, but we shouldn't dabble in wielding lightning. Sounds more like sorcery than science to me," he grumbled a bit. "Part of the reason I don't trust the Swishtram either. Seems splendid, but... one day, that lightning will come untamed, derail the whole damned contraption, it'll fall on people's heads from the elevated tracks..."
"Hasn't fried me alive or cursed me yet," said Tóla, "but it's a very new thing, I'll grant you. I wasn't that sure about using a calc powered by that sort of force either, back when I had my first opportunity working with one. I still prefer the mechanical calcs, at least they're proven."
"Proven and reliable enough for me," said Skaal, quickly patting the cashier-calc on his counter.
Skaal turned his gaze towards Púrebrú, nodded.
"Right, Mr. Púrebrú, what is it you wanted ?"
Púrebrú, patient but somewhat annoyed, walked to the counter.
"Next time, Mr. Skaal, less idle chit-chat with customers, more promptness. It's not Restday, you know. You'd be closed on Restday, anyway."
"Don't you worry, young man... You won't lose much time..."
"I certainly hope so," replied Púrebrú with a mild bit of sarcasm.
"Púr," said Tóla, as she stepped away from the counter and moved more to the side, "It's none of my business, of course, but... Is someone after you, again ?"
Púrebrú waved his hand in a Not now, please gesture, and pulled out a small roll of cloth from an inside pocket of his coat. He placed it on the counter and unrolled it, revealing a metal object. A dagger.
"I need you to identify this dagger for me. Don't take your time, I'm in a hurry."
"One would hope a hurry that won't endanger me and my shop..." mumbled Skaal, picking up the dagger and studying it very closely.
A few moments passed.
"What do you think ?" Púrebrú interjected carefully, not wanting to distract Skaal all that much, but clearly somewhat nervous.
"I wouldn't say it's particularly out of the ordinary," said Skaal. "Seems like a typical narrowed-crossguard dagger. Fairly pointy, but quite broad, definitely not a rondel dagger or other type meant for fighting someone in full armour... I did notice a particular detail, this insignia, which..."
"Good. Could you..." Púrebrú interrupted him, but...
The door opened, bell ringing. Another customer had entered.
"Hello, Mr. Grahnarf. Hope I'm not disturbing a transaction," said the man, dressed in very nice, but tasteful and ordinary townsman clothing.
"Not at all, just assessing something for a client. I reckon you've come for those eating knives you asked for a few days ago ?"
"Yes, and the eating utensils. A present for my wife, as I've told you."
"Don't worry, I remember well. I'll attend to you in short order, sir. Apologies for this small delay," said Skaal, while still focused on the dagger held in his hands.
"Kalev ban-Evliyezar, pleased to meet you, madam," he offered Tóla a handshake, which she accepted with a smile.
Despite Púrebrú looking somewhat nervous and gloomy, his frown mellowed out and he promptly offered the new customer a handshake.
Well, Púr, brooding investigative or not, at least you seem to have good manners, thought Tóla.
"Púrebrú. Pleased to meet you," he introduced himself.
"Kalev. Pleased to meet you as well. You seem a bit familiar... Ah, likely not. I must be mistaking you for someone, sir."
"You're Irim, sir ?" asked Púrebrú, largelly out of politeness, rather than curiosity.
"Yes," nodded Kalev with a smile. "I suppose you've guessed by the name. Me and my wife are having an anniversary soon, I'm buying her a small gift. We wanted to finally buy some new cutlery for the kitchen, and I want to surprise her."
"Mhm," nodded Púrebrú.
"Don't worry Mr. Púrebrú, I'll wait. I'm in no hurry," he said.
Despite a second of suspicion, Tóla reprimanded herself mentally. No, I doubt that's who's pursuing Púrebrú. She smiled at Mr. ban-Evliyezar.
"Unfortunately, I happen to be in quite a hurry," noted Púrebrú. "Sorry to delay you, sir. I honestly didn't want to. I'm hoping Mr. Skaal will complete the assessment soon, so I could move on and he can focus on you."
For some reason, his voice had an undertone of being worried for the other two customers and the shopkeeper.
"Ech, netrápte sa. Ako som už povedal, netreba sa náhliť. A tuná pán Grahnarf nie je príliš nadšený z ponáhľania sa, aspoň z mojej vlastnej skúsenosti." usmial sa Kalev.
Púrebrúove oči sa náhodou zatúlali smerom k jednej z Tóliných rúk. Všimol si, že potajme robí určité... tajné posunky.
His mind delved into his knowledge of hand signals, many different systems, acquired over many years.
Čo tvarovať ty tuto, krát ? opýtala sa Tóla.
Rozhodol sa opätovať posunok.
You have some gaps in your knowledge of signals. Myslíš čo stváram tentokrát ?
Všimol si, že sa na tvári jemne zamračila, mračenie sa typu "no ale toto, no dovoľ...".
Ak dýza ty ktorú tu priniesol zlepovala so zločincami, ťažítka prísť mohli by k nám, she signalled to him.
Púrebrú quietly sighed.
Ak tá dýka, ktorú si sem priniesol, bola spojená so zločincami, mohli by k nám prísť ťažkosti, he showed her the correct sequence of the signals, and briefly added, I'm hoping I won't be long. I don't want to get you three in trouble, to lure it over here. I'm leaving, shortly.
She seemed to understand, and nodded.
"Som to už takmer hotový, pán ban-Evlijezar," podotkol Skaal, a položil lupu, pomocou ktorej študoval drobnú značku na dyke.
"To je v poriadku. Môžem ešte chvíľu počkať. Dobré veci prídu k tým, ktorí si na ne počkajú," pokojne odvetil Kalev, s úctivým úsmevom na tvári.

There was an abrupt opening of the entrance door, then loud and confident footsteps... and a longer and sharper ringing of the bell.
Not one pair of footsteps... but two... three... four pairs of footsteps in total. The customers looked to the entrance door.
The door was slammed without much care of any kind.
Four men, in serviceable but somewhat shabby commoner clothing, had walked into Ye Olde Blade Shoppe.
They seemed sullen and annoyed. The oldest-looking of them, whether intentionally or not, could barely hide his simmering anger.
"Where's the dagga' ?" he looked at Púrebrú, then at Skaal. "This fella' 'ere stole a dagger from our... group. He needs to give it back," he told the shopkeeper in a tone that wasn't interested in negotiation.
"Gentlemen, this establishment is owned and overseen by me," said Skaal calmly. "If you have any sort of quarrel with any of the other customers, I'd suggest you go outside, back on the street, and sort it out there... or call the City Watch, let them help with sorting it out."
"No Watch !" barked the oldest-looking of the thugs. "What are ya tryin' ? Tell that scruffy snooper to get over here and give us back the dagga'. We won't 'urt 'im, honest," his voice was dispassionate, but he said the last few words with the emerging hint of a cruel smile.
"They're from Šruta's gang," explained Púrebrú. "I'll spare you the elaborate details, but I was making a sting at one of the gang's safehouses. I had the good fortune of sneaking in, acquiring some intel and evidence. Including the dagger I brought with me."
"So you are that investigator I heard about," muttered Kalev quietly, in apparent surprise.
"Pure Rib 'ere s'gonna be fish food in the river if he doesn't return that dagga' and come with us," bellowed the oldest thug.
"There's a more reasonable way to settle this," Tóla attempted to speak up, trying to sound as level-headed as possible.
"Shush, broad ! What's it to ya ?!" he shouted at her.
Skaal sighed. The three customers had to admit, his sigh sounded much more huskier than usual, bordering on a held-back growl.
"Stačilo," vyhlásil rosomáčí muž. Z jednej z políc s vystavenými zbraňami vzal jednoručný, dvojsečný meč, potom z ďalšej police jednu stredoaporuejskú šabľu (najskôr lengelského štýlu). Šikovne preskočil ponad pult. "Chytajte !" hodil pošvu so šabľou Púrebrúovi, ktorý ju len-len stihol chytiť.
"Ale veď ja nie som šermiar !" vyhŕkol zmätene Púrebrú.
For a moment, the thugs errupted into mocking laughter. Tóla looked at Púrebrú, rolled her eyes.
Kalev did an even more pronounced eyeroll and he gently slapped his palm against one side of his forehead. He waved at Púrebrú and gestured that he throw the scabbard with the sabre to him. Púrebrú was hesitating whether to give him the sabre or not.
"Kefysis som slúžil u Pohraničiarov ! Len mi hoďte tú šabľu a nesklamem vás," prosil Kalev. Naliehavosť v jeho hlase bola veľmi presvedčivá.
"Nebuďte motovidlo, Púr, hoďte ju pánovi Kalevovi !" prikázal Skaal, jeho hlas nezvyčajne rozkazovačný.
Podomácky vyšetrovateľ konečne počúvol.
Kalev šikovne chytil hodenú pošvu so šabľou, priam nenútene. Rýchlo si okolo pása uviazal a zaistil opasok s pošvou a vytasil šabľu. Skaal zas vytiahol svoj jednoručný meč s rovnou čepeľou, bez obzretia hodil pošvu meča na pult.
Trojica zákazníkov si len práve vtedy uvedomila, že tvar meča náramne pripomínal dnes už archaické typy mečov spred mnohých storočí, no ešte stále populárne medzi členmi rosomľudu na Severe. Štýl čepele navonok archaickejší než rytierske meče, príručné meče a košíkové meče populárne v súčasnosti Aporue. Čepeľ bola o niečo širšia, jej hrot bol menej vhodný na bodavý útok. Rozhodne to bol meč uspôsobený najmä na seknutia a zatnutia, a v niečom pôsobil aj ako vzdialená ozvena niektorých dlhších mečov z aporuejskej antiky.
The little daring twinkles in Skaal's eyes said it all: He was holding a style of weapon which he trained with already in boyhood. Other sword designs or hafted weapons would do just as fine, but this... this was something he wielded with the utmost confidence.
Skaal's sword was aiming forward, diagonally, ready to carry out a few cuts and flat-strikes if the four thugs tried any foolhardy ideas.
"Oh, I've heard of Šruta before. Rather pathetic and cowardly even for a crime boss, in this city" Skaal's voice rung with dismissive bemusement. "Dear vagabonds from the gang led by Šruta, let me tell you: You're not exactly Beič's boys, from his Brotherhood. And you're not the violent lowlifes from the Razor Gang either. After all my years, I find these 'nasty guy' theatrics by the Bigfolk tiresome."
"Oi, look at 'is littul upstart ! You want your clock cleaned, shortie ?!" shouted one of the younger thugs.
Despite trying to appear tough, they were clearly taken aback by the sword and sabre in Skaal's and Kalev's hands.
"Hodinárov obchod je na opačnom konci tejto ulice," odvetil Skaal takmer znudeným tónom. "If you were going to follow Mr. Púrebrú into a shop and try to intimidate him there, you've picked the worst possible place to walk into, in this whole city," he warned them, and briefly looked around, as if to emphasize all the melee weaponry on the shelves and in the display cases.

Tóla was uncomfortable with the whole situation. She wanted to curse under her breath that Púrebrú had gotten her, the shopkeeper and another customer into this tense situation. These thugs from Šruta's gang seemed rather amateurish, but criminals should never be underestimated.
She started to carefully undo the strap on her handgun holster, as well as start slowly putting the newly-bought knuckleduster on her other hand. She really hoped the three men... even Púrebrú... would buy her some time until she was properly ready for a fight. At least Kalev, who was closest to her, seemed to genuinely know how to wield a sword, including a sabre. She was a bit surprised Púrebrú was an even bigger amateur in this area than her.
One of the younger thugs had suddenly started walking quickly towards them. Before she could react and do something potentially ill-advised, Kalev had already intervened. He threatened a torso-level cut, which scared the thug, who stopped and seemed to be searching for an opening. Kalev abused his hesitation, did a terrifying swing towards the thug's head... but then pulled back, creating a feint... This startled the younger thug so much that he ran back, and just about missed being struck by Kalev's follow-up cut, right after the feint. Once again aimed at the torso, around the lower chest and upper abdomen area.
"Back !" warned Kalev, raising his otherwise kind and cheerful voice to levels of seriousness they hadn't heard before. "I'm a peaceful man, but I was in the Frontiersmen years ago, and I'm still good with several types of blades. If anyone of you lot doubts that, I'll stop playing around and unleash more serious moves. Trust me, sabres are excellent against unarmoured opponents," he continued, hoping to scare them.
"Indeed," Skaal raised his voice, then did a low-level growl and worry-inducing frown towards the confused mobsters. "Amateur hour's over, gents ! You either stay here with us and we teach you the hard way not to interfere in the business of this shop, or you do an about-face and leave immediately. Never to return. Clear ?"
"We ain't takin' no orders from you !" said the oldest-looking thug.
"Mr. Grahnarf," Púrebrú spoke up, "This is all my fault. I'll give them the dagger I nabbed from their gang, I'll walk away from here, they'll come with me. It isn't worth risking your shop and..."
"Mr. Púrebrú, would you kindly... shut up for a moment ?" asked Skaal.
Púr noticed the look on Tóla's face. She said nothing, but shook her head slightly, in disbelief.
He showed her a quick hand signal.
She signalled back.
We'll think outside of them if we don't eat roasted stones.
He sighed, rolled his eyes for a change, and signalled her once more.
Need to learn gestures better, is what she could understand.
She signalled back.
Listen to Skaal. No heroics. All right. A few moments later, she suddenly added, Look. His hand.
Púrebrú didn't notice Kalev doing any hand signals, so looked at Skaal's free hand.
Of course ! Him knowing certain sets of hand signals wasn't all that suprising.
I'm going to try something, he could decipher. Don't go forward, stay back. I'll need you back behind the counter. Got a surprise for them.
"Mr. Púrebrú, are you familiar with Ap-Rhisiart's Principle ?" asked Skaal, a few moments after concluding the hand signals. "Also known as Cwlwmceiliog's Principle, after Dumnonian writer Morcant Ap-Rhisiart, known under the pseudonym Cwlwmceiliog."
"Erm, not sure I've heard of him, or read any of his works," Púrebrú frowned, genuinely confused at the apparent non-sequitur.
"He's a playwright," explained Skaal, also looking at Tóla and Kalev. "I'm not the most avid reader of fiction or plays, but I once read about his and others' interesting observations on writing. I couldn't help but think of them right now..."
"Oi, stop ya yappin' 'bout books n' plays, ya furry midget," barked one of the mobsters, upset, his temper clearly rattled.
Skaal turned to face him, in an outright instant. His face bore a death glare his customers had not seen until then. He held the sword in front of him, ready to deal a potential quick cut to the nearest of the thugs.

"Zlý výber slov," he growled slowly, and opening his mouth, bared his teeth. Large, threatening, canine teeth. The largest pairs of canine teeth in any thinking species of Aporue. The wolverfolk took after their animal namesakes in all departments, powerful teeth included. "Veru tak, veľmi zlý výber..." zopakoval Skaal vrčiacim hlasom, ktorému zrazu chýbala jeho dovtedajšia jazyková sofistikovanosť.
The eyes of one of the younger mobsters widened. He made an instinctive step back. The other three glared at him, annoyed... even though one of the "brave" ones seemed to break a sweat, a tiny droplet coursing down his forehead.
"Ap-Rhisiartov princíp," pokračoval Skaal, jeho oči sústredné nie na zákazníkov, ale všetkých štyroch členov gangu, "pozostáva z predstavy, že najlepší spôsobo, ako zvýšiť napätie v príbehu, je začleniť do deja nepredvídateľný prvok prekvapenia. Povedzme, že niekto pod stôl umiestni alebo namontuje ukrytú bombu. Pod stôl, za ktorým sedia nejaké postavy, hrajú karty, spoločne večerajú, voľačo také. Čitatelia alebo obecenstvo v divadle už vedia, že je pod stolom bomba, a vedia, že vybuchne. Ale...  Nevedia kedy kedy vybuchne. Už predtým to bolo napínavé, keď vedeli, že je tam bomba... No je to ešte napínavejšie, keď nemajú ani šajnu kedy tá vecička poriadne rachne."
Žmurkol na Púrebrúa a Tólu. Both of them had an uncertain expression on their face.
Kalev opened his mouth slightly, clearly wanting to ask what Skaal is up to. Nevertheless, he composed himself and remained silent.
Tóla placed her hand in a position where she could move it slowly towards the knuckleduster. Bit by bit, moving the fingers closer to the holes in the small steel weapon, until she'd have it in her full grasp. She was also preparing herself mentally. Preparing herself to draw her gun quickly, with her other hand, if need be... She was hoping it would not come to this... Her years of experience taught her never to fall back on the use of a weapon, unless the situation was completely dire.
"Mr. Púrebrú, I'm busy right now," declared Skaal. "We should settle this whole matter without violence. Could you give me a hand with helping this quartet of gentlemen from Šruta's gang ?"
"Um... What ?!" asked Púrebrú, bewildered.
"Hey ! What are you two gettin' at ?!", shouted one of the mobsters, flustered.
Tóla had, at long last, managed to place all her fingers in the holes of her brand-new knuckleduster. It wasn't easy doing it without seeing her own hand, or doing it inconspicuously, but she finally did it. If things get wild any moment now, at least she'll be ready to help the three men in the shop with fighting off the thugs from Šruta's gang. She tightened her already firm grip on the knuckleduster.
Vyberiem sa kúpiť zbraň, prvýkrát za celú večnosť, a skončím pri nakupovaní so zbelenými hánkami, pomyslela si rezignovane.
"For once, I agree with these scumbags," said Púrebrú, his voice frustrated. "I was trying to get away from th..." he started, but suddenly paused. He was looking at Skaal's free hand. "Ah, right. I see your point, Mr. Grahnarf. A sensible point. We won't delay these fine gang members longer than need be. We should concede our position and give them what they want."
Šruta's mobsters looked confused enough for three.
"Are ya ginna giv' us 'at dagga' ?" barked the oldest-looking thug, curious and careful.
Púrebrú grabbed the counter top, jumped over to the other side of the counter, then looked under it.
"Erh, Mr. Grahnarf, did you put that dagger I nicked from them in another part of the counter ? I don't see it here.", he asked, standing up again.
It was a complete lie. Púrebrú saw it right there, on one of the inner shelves of the counter. He knew they didn't have much time to buy at this point, nor had much time left before Šruta's mobsters would start a brawl.
"You'd make a terrible shop clerk, Mr. Púr. It's on the shelf to your left. Hurry up. This is a pressing matter," groaned Skaal.
When Púrebrú emerged from behind the counter a moment ago, Púrebrú was looking closely at Skaal's hand again.
The movements were very subtle, but he recognized enough to understand the shopkeeper's orders.
It also helped he put emphasis on seemingly unimportant words like "hand" and "pressing".
"Ah, got it, Mr. Grahnarf," replied Púrebrú.
He did a seemingly random flick of the wrist towards Tóla, whose eyes had wandered over to him.
Koberec. Nie dopredu. Pripravte sa.
Dúfal, že tie posunky pochopila. V jej očiach zazrel záblesk zvedavosti.
Doparoma, dúfam, že pochopila, pomyslel si Púrebrú.
"Hneď sa chystá jedna ukradnutá dýka..." povedal a sklonil sa dole k vnútornej strane pultu.
"Už stačilo !!!" zvolal najstarší z rabiátov a urobil krok smerom ku Skaalovi, v snahe odsunúť ho nabok a prebiť sa vpred.
Rosommuž urobil svižný, šikovný sek mečom, preťal na mužovom ramene látku oboch jeho rukávov, ale nezaťal až pod kožu.
"Tý pandrava zé séveru !" zrúkol rabiát.
"Očarujúce," zavrčal Skaal, opäť vyceriac zubiská.
Jeden z mladších rabiátov poskočil dopredu, v snahe obísť Kaleva a Tólu.
Tóla už ďalej neváhala. Jej rameno vyletelo vpred, vystreté, na ruke boxer, pevne zvieraný. predok boxera prišiel do kontaktu s nosom člena gangu. Ozval sa tichší no zreteľný zvuk puknutia. Z mužovho nosa sa začala rynúť krv.
"Árrrgh, ty modrooká su..." zaškrečal, no nestihol dopovedať nadávku.
"Späť !" zrúkol Kalev, šabľou opisujúc vo vzduchu pozorné obranné seky. Úspešne sa mu podarilo donútiť rabiáta k ústupu o pár krokov, naspäť na koberec.
"Nie si môj typ, chrapúň," odsekla Tóla, jej hlas pokojný, ale nasiaknutý trpkým sarkazmom.
Skaal zrazu vybuchol smiechom.
"Obecenstvo nevie kedy vybuchne bomba !"
"Éj, on tu má eném dáku bombu !" zvolal najmladší a najnervóznejší z rabiátov, zjavne ho začala chytať panika.
"Hlupáci !!! Nikdy by som nepoškodil môj tovar len pre obranu pred bandou ako ste vy," zavrčal na nich Skaal. Posledné zvyšky jeho trpezlivosti už zjavne vyprchali.
Tentokrát však jeho slovné pohrozenie bolo určitým divadielkom. Nepozvaní hostia v jeho obchode mali radšej venovať pozornosť jeho voľnej ruke, nie jeho veľkým zubom a ruke zvierajúcej meč.
Teraz, nariadil Skaal posunkom Púrebrúovi.
Zdalo sa, že jeden z členov gangu si konečne všimol a pochopil zmysel drobných gest, ktoré robil Skaal. Chcel už-už vykríknuť súkmeňovcom varovanie...
No ukázalo sa, že Púrebrú je rýchlejší.
Stlačil či podobným spôsobom aktivoval čosi pod pultom.

Skaal sa z miesta odrazil smerom dozadu, meč pevne v ruke. Jeho voľná ruka mávala ku Tóle a Kalevovi, aby sa držali pri pulte.
Všetko nabralo veľmi rýchly spád. Doslova.
Celá prostredná časť podlahy v zákazníckej zóne sa zrazu prepadla smerom dolu, a spolu s jačiacimi členmi gangu vzala so sebou aj koberec pod ich nohami, do hĺbky niekoľkých stôp.
Veľké padacie dvere. Uprostred podlahy zákazníckej zóny.
Tóle padla sánka. S nevierou hľadela na ten výjav, neschopná zo seba vysúkať jediné slovo.
Kalev sa dotkol svojho líca, díval sa dole s tvárou plnou úprimného prekvapenia.
Púrebrú sa zachmúril a uznanlivo zapískal.
Skaal sa pozorne zahľadel dole to štvorcového otvoru, ktorý sa utvoril uprostred podlahy.
Ich pád bol malý a krátky. Členovia gangu popadali do cely s kamennými stenami a dlážkou pokrytou starými zaprášenými a plesnivými vrecami. Koberec sa zrútil dolu spolu s nimi, ležal tam v nesúrodom tvare. Kým nebola pasca spustená, koberec slúžil na ukrytie padacích dverí v podlahe obchodu.

"Only the second time I've used this," Skaal looked at his customers, grinning with his canines. "Didn't feel like messying my hands with this criminal filth." He paused, placed the sword on the counter and groaned. "Pity about the carpet, though ! Gonna have to haul it upstairs again, out of that little prison cell in the basement, once the Watch's done with these poppinjays."
Kalev broke out into a hearty, almost wild laugh, and even used his free hand to slap his own tigh in amusement. Looking at Skaal, he shook his head in disbelief.
Tóla, her hands relaxed and no longer ready to draw weapons, finally spoke up.
"Huh. That sure was... something. Well played, Mr. Grahnarf, well played."
"I have to thank Mr. Púrebrú and his prompt reflexes," replied the wolverineman.
"I'm just glad my fellow customers heeded your warning and didn't stand too far from the counter," chuckled Púrebrú.
"We're not quite done here, yet," warned Skaal, pointing at the end of the trap pit closer to the shop entrance.
One of the mobsters was still holding on to the edge of the trap pit, attempting to lift himself up. He managed to just about raise one of his hands above the level of the floor, waving to someone outside. They noticed a fifth man outside the shop, standing close to the window of the entrance door. He wanted to appear as if he was just passing by and minding his own business, but...
Skaal walked over to that end of the hidden trap pit, grabbed the mobster by the arm, held his arm in a tight grip. To the customers' surprise, he started raising the mobster by the arm, pulling him away from the edge of the square-shaped pit. He looked at the mobster, then at the fifth man outside, frowned at the latter, then at the former. The mobster, though scared, was trying to wrestle his way out, attempting to strike or poke the wolverineman. Utterly futile.
"Don't worry, it's a short drop," grinned Skaal, exposing his huge wolverine canine teeth again, then letting go of the mobster. He fell, with a thud and a groan.
Cries of Ah, you moron, you landed on my shin, were heard echoing from below, as Skaal waved to Púrebrú, still behind the counter.
The investigator understood. He activated the hidden button or switch the shop owner had secretly installed under the counter.
Whatever system of weights and counterweights powered the doors, they rose up again and shut.
Skaal walked over the square section of the floor with thudding but swift steps, as if to prove the trapdoors held firm, and headed for the sword left on the counter.
"The room below has strong iron bars on its locked door. They'll hold 'em until the City Watch arrives here."
He picked up the weapon and looked at Tóla and Kalev, as if daring them to help him with something. He quickly pointed at the entrance door window.
Kalev ran to the door, opened it and carefully walked onto the street, followed by Tóla. Skaal squeezed the grip of the sword harder and headed for the entrance door.
"Wait, where are you going ?!" shouted Púrebrú, confused.
"To catch the fifth one. You stay in or near the shop, and call the Watch here," ordered Skaal, walking out after the two customers. "Help yourself to a pollaxe, if you'd need one..." he called as he left the shop.

It was early evening, nearly dusk.
"There he is !" pointed Kalev, still holding the borrowed sabre.
The fifth man they saw through the door, was walking to the other end of the street, quickening his pace. He was dressed in similar attire as the four other thugs in Šruta's service. Skaal sprung into a fast walk, quickening his pace as well. For a fairly short and tough-bodied person, he was remarkably agile.
"If you're gonna fire, don't hit us !" he shouted over his shoulder, then waved his hand forwards. Kalev joined him, running carefully, trying to keep up. Tóla understood. She noticed the two men are sticking to the right side of the street. The fifth mobster had still tried to behave naturally, to shake off suspicion, but after he quickly looked over his shoulder as well, he entered into a mild gallop.
Tóla checked the holster, the strap still undone. She grabbed the grip of her pepperbox and started sprinting behind the three men.
Dammit, at this rate, I'll be out of range, a lightning-fast thought crossed her mind. She ran as fast as she could, starting to gain on Kalev and Skaal, all the while paying close attention not to accidentally set off the pepperbox.
All right, I'll hardly have a better chance, she thought. She stopped, standing on the left side of the street, and drew her pistol. Its more polished metal parts glistened in the rays of the setting sun. Aiming down the fairly meagre sights - it wasn't much of a handgun for long distances - she pulled the trigger.
A tiny ignition, puff of smoke, the black powder propelling the lead bullet at high velocity. The set of barrels rolled over like a dial, the empty barrel's place taken by a still loaded barrel.
The running criminal jumped in place, startled by the bullet. He didn't seem harmed. She had the impression the bullet flew past and hit a wooden barrel next to one of the houses.
One, she sighed.
She aimed once more, uncertain she'll be able to hit him at all. She pulled the trigger. The barrel of the gun fired, rolled over again.
The man's hat flew off, he ducked forward, but kept running. She was originally aiming for his left shoulder.
Two, she sighed again. It was worth a shot... Literally.
Skaal and Kalev were still hot on his trail, but were nearing a crossroad of local streets. Their attempt to stop him didn't look very hopeful.
Then it happened.

A shorter man, with dark, curly hair, wearing shabbier clothing and a well-worn hat, appeared on the left side of the street, at the crossroads. He was carrying some sort of flyers or small pamphlets. He walked in front of an approaching horse cab. The cabbie, startled, brought the horses to an abrupt halt.
"What are you doing, ya lunkhead ?!" cried the angry cabbie at the unknown street seller. An elderly couple, husband and wife, peered out of the cab and complained as well, shaking their heads.
"Could I interest you in this special sale of our travel agency ? Cheap tickets for sightseeing flights with the city's private blimp airlines ! Lovely chartered sightseeing flights, fun for the whole family, and..."
"Get off the road or I'm callin' the Watch !" shouted the cabbie.
The man raised a flyer, waved it in his hand in front of the horses.
"No interest, then ?"
The fifth thug was very near the crossroads, the cab blocking his way. He swore quietly.
The four people at the cab payed him no attention.
"No !!! Get off the road !" the elderly wife shouted from the cab, to the surprise of even her husband and the cabbie. "Or I'm coming over and you'll feel my wrath !" she glared at the curly-haired vagrant.
The man, appearing genuinely polite, but also mildly drunk, put the flyer back on the pile, nodded and started stepping aside.
The cabbie gave the signal to his horses and the cab started moving again.

"Drat, they almost blocked his escape route, and now they're leaving !" growled Skaal.
He was getting tired from the run after the thug from Šruta's gang.
"Should we..." Kalev slowed down, caught some breath, then sped up again. "Should we keep pursuing ?"
"There's still a chance... Even with that... cab leaving..." Skaal answered almost absent-mindedly, sharply focused on the escaping man.

"Prepáčte, ak sa náhlite pane, ale mohol by som vám ponúknuť..." zvolal kučeravý muž.
"Zavri chlebáreň !" okríkol ho unikajúci člen gangu. Len tak-tak sa prešmykol poza odchádzajúcu drožku a pokračoval v splašenom behu vpred.
"Tí dnešní ľudia... Vždy sa len náhlia..." povzdychol si muž núkajúci letáky. "Neponáhľajte sa, spoluobčania ! Namiesto toho si vychutnajte príjemne pomalé lety, s nádhernými panorámami ! Vyhliadkové lety blimfom ! Zaručená radosť ! Za prístupné ceny !" he kept hawking.

The fifth thug felt that, though he was not out of the woods yet, his getaway could still prove successful. Things were looking up...
Then, a newtman came into view, from some alleyway, or other part of the street ahead... The thug had overlooked that part.
Besides being somewhat taller than even a Bigfolk human of average height, the newtman proved an intimidating sight in an urban setting. So unlike the green and waterry parts of the countryside the newtfolk liked to frequent...
The newtman stood there in the middle of the street, didn't say a word, but kept looking at the mobster very intently. Was he planning something ? The mobster, despite putting on an unflappable facial expression, utterly focused on running away, couldn't help but slow down. He was getting nervous and fearful about what's going on.
A motorcar, still a fairly rare part of the local traffic, was approaching them. The newtman payed it no attention, despite the car approaching behind his back.
He instead looked, no, stared at the thug with his large, rather spooky eyes, with peculiar sclera. The thug was slowing down, unsettled. Then the newtman smiled. A broad, friendly, almost... goofy smile. He lifted his greenish hand with amphibian-like fingers, waved at the thug and said in a nonchalant voice:
"Kamže ty utekáššš, zločinec krpatý ? Mloš neubliží ti, tomu ver. Kamže utekáššš ? Huuhmm ?" he spoke in slightly rural dialect tinged Melzish, albeit with the deep, rather lispy, slurpy accent of the newtfolk.
The car was slowing down, started honking like wild. Mloš seemed to shrug, then perhaps sigh... and then turned around to face the car. He put his hands behind his back, observing the approaching car like a bemused spectator. Suddenly, he turned and ran back, a bit closer towards the increasingly scared thug. The fleeing mobster started backing off, then turned and began reluctantly running back.
And then, to his horror, he realized what Mloš is actually doing. The newtman stopped at one particular section of the street. The exact place where the street was quite narrow. Narrow enough for a motorcar getting stuck. Mloš turned around, waving his hands, smiling at the car. The car hit the brakes, sliding a bit to the side... and blocking the narrowest part of the street, just a few paces in front of Mloš.
"Ya stupid dolt of a piss-swimmer, what are you doing in the middle of the road !" yelled the driver. The passengers in the car looked confused and nonplussed.
"Gotta dash," said Mloš, doing a shrug, then a vocal similar to a frog's ribbit. He turned around and started running towards the fifth thug. The thug, terrified, was now running towards Skaal and Kalev.
"Pozrite, mločniak ! A on..." Kalev bol príliš užasnutý na to, aby zo seba vysúkal slová.
"Pokiaľ pomáha, to je skvelé ! Ten rabiát je už na dohľad... Kalev, vezmite tú stranu, ja vezmem túto."

They heard the sound of City Watch whistles. Two watchmen were now jumping over the stuck car and its crew and running after the newtman and the thug. One of the cops was carrying a light two-handed crossbow most typical of the City Watch. And wearing a belt quiver with several trick-arrowhead bolts...
Mloš no longer ran towards the thug. He looked over the shoulder at the approaching policemen, slowed down, then waved at Skaal and Kalev, as if in acknowledgement. Immediately after that, he sprinted to a small section of the street consisting of a small bridge, built over an old waterway. With a few lithe, springy jumps, he jumped off the bridge.
Šplech, a zmizol pod vodnou hladinou.
The watchman carrying the crossbow pulled a bolt out of his quiver. Valcovitá, mosadzne žltá hlavica šípky, zelené operenie... Nasadil šípku na kušu a vystrelil ju, pod určitým zámerným uhlom. Šípka preletela krátku vzdialenosť, predbehla utekajúceho rabiáta, potom narazila do priečelia domu pred utekajúcim, vo výške jeho hlavy. Valcovitá hlavica okamžite zo seba vypustila drobný obláčik zelenkavo-žltkavého plynu. Aj keď sa mu rabiát chcel vyhnúť, vbehol priamo do obláčiku, jeho hlava s ním prišla priamo do kontaktu.
Spomaľoval svoj beh, nohy sa mu začali triasť, prepletal nimi a strácal koordináciu, oči sa mu začali gúľať, viečka ustato zatvárať... niekoľko krokov sa ešte potkýnal vpred, potom sa potkol naposledy a vrazil do úhľadne usporiadanej kopy prútených košov, vystavených na predaj pred výkladom jedného z obchodov. Majiteľ obchodu vybehol von a vynadal rabiátovi do "nešikovných chmuľov".
Skaal a Kalev sa držali ďalej, stále pevne zvierali svoje meče. Pozorovali  rabiáta, ktorého chceli chytiť.
Ku ležiacemu kriminálnikovi sa blížili strážnici.
Spal. Bol nažive a pravidelne dýchal, ale na krátku chvíľu upadol do bezvedomia.

Tóla was watching them from a distance, still at the place where she had last shot from. She'd put the gun back in the holster, certain it wouldn't be of any help right now. It was up to Skaal and Kalev to catch the man, if it was at all still possible.
She was also hearing some commotion up the other end of the street, closer to the shop they left. She recognized Púrebrú from a few of the louder sentences spoken. Several pairs of feet were heard walking, raised voices filled with curiosity. The City Watch had arrived at Ye Olde Blade Shoppe. Púr will no doubt handle those matters until the three of them return.
She noticed the fifth mobster being slowed down by a cab that came to a halt, then by the shorter man who stopped the cab... The thug nearly smacked that vagrant, ran away again... Then he got fenced in by a car that got itself blocked and stuck on the street... by a newtman ?! The Watch came running, the newtman decided to scram by jumping in some water, the thug only taken down with a knockout bolt.
I think I've heard they have smaller versions of those, even for dartguns, recalled Tóla. Maybe I should buy myself a dartgun once I earn enough money for it. Might come in handy in certain situations. A pepperbox can't fire trick darts...

She heard the heavy, plodding footsteps of another person. Right behind her, approaching.
Startled, before she even finished turning, there was a gruff, sleazy-sounding male voice.
"Well, 'allo there, toots... What's a pretty-cheeked face like yours doin' here ?"
A man had emerged from the shadow of an abandoned-looking doorway. She noticed he had the same basic attire as the five other thugs.
Ah, great, she thought, annoyed.
"Who the hell are you ?" she asked calmly, probing the waters, just in case.
"Not too lone, are we ? Should I help ya ? Give you a hand ?" he asked, a smirk appearing on his face.
He pursed his lips, then did a brief kissing sound. He started grinning, she saw his rather rotting teeth.
"Really ?! Where are your manners ?" she asked, trying to sound polite, but affronted, at the same time.
Without fanfare, he pulled out a knife, holding it menacingly. Very similar to the dagger brought to Ye Olde Blade Shoppe by Púrebrú.
"I likes me some blue-eyed missies with nice cheeks, like you. I don't likes me feisty missies, the sort that make a big fuss..." his voice sounded increasingly arrogant and cold. "You and a few of ya' friends pulled a number on me' good mates and on our bossman. I don't like that in a woman."
She realized she was still wearing her knuckleduster. And her pepperbox was back in the holster, but ready for a quick-draw, if need be.
He didn't seem to notice the holster with he handgun, worn on the other side of her belt.
One surprise, coming right up, she told herself.
"Hey, hey... How about introducing yourself first, pretty boy ?" she did an ironic smirk at the sixth henchman. "Manners will get you far. It's awfully impolite to court any lady without introducing yourself first. Didn't your parents or legal guardians teach you ?"
She knew what the answer would be. This man was raised by the streets, if not criminal gangs outright.
"Look 'ere, missie," he said with barely concealed anger, the bad state of his teeth clearly visible as he opened his mouth. "They never taught me to count to more than..." he hesitated, "forty... Forty, yeah. They taught me how to handle a knife. Would be an awful shame if something happened to a little missie like you."
"Počula som nejakých chlapcov zo Stráže, ako tu nablízku obsmŕdajú. Bolo by náramne nepríjemné, keby ťa tu načapali. Začínam mať dojem, že sa už blížia."
"Ňe sú dosc blízko na to, aby helfli..." zamrmlal zlovestne, "...ked já s tebú skoncujem !" náhle na ňu zjačal, potom zaútočil, nôž nachystaný na bodnutie.

Tóla rýchlo vytasila svoju koreničku, sústredila sa na plynulosť a rýchlosť pohybu. Inšinktívne namierila na trup útočníka, ale v okamihu zmenila názor a zamierila nižšie... pod koleno člena gangu. Stlačená spúšť.
Prásk.
Útočník zavrávoral, potkol sa, spadol na zem. Padol nešťastne, priamo na svoju čerstvo poranenú nohu, zjačal. The weight of his body accidentally pushed down on the same shin he was shot in just a moment ago. He screamed some more.
Tri, pomyslela si.
"Mrzí ma to," ozvala sa Tóla, jej hlas trochu chrapľavý. She blew the remaining smoke from the barrel(s) and holstered the pistol.
"Arghhh, ty cundra, ty su..." zlostne kričal rabiát, ležiac na mačacích hlavách, pritláčajúc jednu zo svojich rúk na poranenú nohu.
"Ušetri ma nadáviek, cukríček !" poznamenala. "I could have shot you in the gut, chest, made the most sense. The torso as the easiest target. Could have shot you in the face... Or in the knee, ooh, that would've been nasty. A cripple for life. In this case ? You'll be crippled for a while, but you'll heal from it. I hope this teaches you a lesson how to behave towards women. Armed and unarmed."
"Ty malá preklatá šte..."
She took a few steps closer and pressed her shoe on the wrist of his hand that still held the dagger. Pressing on the wrist, hard.
He groaned with pain, let go of the knife. She picked it up quickly, grabbed his fallen hat, and took a few steps away from the thug.
HZdalo sa, že sa snaží vstať... Vymrštil sa dohora pomocou svojej nezranenej nohy, wanting to slap her or punch her... and received a prompt punch in his shoulder from her other hand, enveloped on the outside with her knuckleduster. The thug collapsed back on the cobbled street, grumbling and snivelling.
"I'm not interested in any... flirting or tumbles in the hay with men who don't care for their teeth... and who murder..." Tóla said, her disgust obvious. "Here. Your hat's not rigid, press it down on your wound. It'll help a bit. The cops will be here in a short while, they'll tend to the wound. You might prefer gentler female hands, but after this intrada, you're out of luck. Hoci si mal hádam šťastie, že som sa nesnažila mieriť na... tvoje osobné poklady... tam dole," odrapotala chladne.
Looking over the dagger quickly, it seemed to carry the same insignia as the one nabbed by Púrebrú. Tóla sighed to herself. If nothing good comes of this whole mess, at least they've caught six of Šruta's thugs, all in a single evening. She looked towards the shop. Some members of the Watch were finally arriving. Roundsmen and a sergeant.
She raised both her hands above her head, diagonally, and called out.
"It's all right. I'm with you. And with the shopkeeper and other customers," she explained.
She pulled out the PI license and handed it to the approaching watchman. He looked it over, nodding, and handed it to the sergeant, who studied it as well.
The sergeant, shaking his head, noticed the thug lying on the cobbled street, moaning in pain as he pressed the hat down on his shin wound.
"Tak teda sebaobrana ?" seržany pozrel spýtavo na Tóli.
"Nanešťastie, áno. Chcela som mu prejsť cez rozum, ale nenechal mi bohvieako veľa času a vzdialenosti, aby som sa rozhodla inak. Každopádne, som detektívka, nie pištoľníčka."
"No, to by bolo už päť zatknutých lumpov," podotkol seržant, hľadiac na zraneného rabiáta.
"Šesť, pán príslušník," poopravila ho. Ukázala prstom na blížiacich sa dvoch strážnikov, zatknutého člena gangu, Skaala a Kaleva, kráčajúcich od druhého konca ulice.
"Hm, no toto," prekvapene sa uchechtol sa seržant. "Pánečku, na dnes celkom úctyhodný úlovok. Šrutovi chlapci sa dočkajú ich teplej polievky a chleba v base, pokiaľ budú spolupracovať a poskytnú nejaké info o ich šéfovi." Zakýval na kolegov zo služby na druhom konci ulice. "Vďaka."
"Verte či nie... Nejaký miestny bezďák a dáky mločniak pomohli s jeho chytením," zakričal jeden z blížiacich sa polišov.
Seržant sa zamračil, tváriac sa zmätene, a opäť sa spýtavo pozrel na Tólu.
Namiesto odpovede pokrčila plecami a pousmiala sa.

The two groups had walked back to the shop, leading the two apprehended thugs with them.
"Thank you for finally coming," said a relieved Púrebrú. "They wouldn't let me move away from the shop, at all. Told me I'm potentially suspicious as the gang's possible collaborator. They wanted the shopkeeper to return before they could allow me to go anywhere."
"Righto, makes sense," said Skaal and turned to the watchman. "I'll take it from here, sergeant, I personally told Mr. Púrebrú to look after the shop while we chased down that crim."
He pointed to Kalev.
"Sergeant... Mr. ban-Evliyezar here, was highly instrumental with helping in the defence of my shop, along with my other two customers. He use to work in the Frontiersmen. Service rivalry or no, I'd suggest you tell your superiors in the Watch to consider giving him a medal for civic bravery."
"Oh, Mr. Grahnarf, that's not necessary," said Kalev with a perky, flattered tone. Tóla was almost expecting the middle-aged Irim to blush.
"I'll try to let them know, speak up for your effort," promised the sergeant, offering Kalev a handshake, then giving one to Skaal as well.
They thanked him.
Púrebrú handed the sergeant the dagger he - as he creatively put it, displaced from the gang, unlawfully but in the interest of the law - with one of the roundsmen placing it in a coarse-textured evidence bag.
"Mr. Grahnarf, if it's no bother to you, I'd like to finally buy that cutlery I came for... before we were rudely interrupted..." said Kalev, his voice calm, save for just the tiniest hint of urgency.
"Right, come with me," nodded Skaal and walking into the shop, waved his hand, gesturing at him to follow. "You need to return that sabre anyway."

Evening had arrived, the streetlamps on the street with Ye Olde Blade Shoppe lighting up, either mechanically or with the help of wandering lamplighters in employ of The City. One of them was checking a lamp post for any potential needed maintenance.
The Watch cell-wagon, with small barred windows and a barred armoured door of its cell box, was already filled with five of Šruta's henchmen, sitting on the wooden benches inside. The roundsmen were holding the sixth thug, with a wounded shin, under his armpits, helping him walk (or rather, hop ungracefully) into the cell box.
"Ain't no pretty missies in the gaol you're headed for," laughed one of the guards next to the wagon door. "Should teach you a lesson of not pulling out knives on women."
They sat him down on one of the benches, jumped outside. The guard slammed the door.
Púrebrú and Tóla were standing nearby, looking at the watchmen at work.
Some of the thugs inside, resigned to their situation, glared at them from behind bars.
"Bet there's a lot of 'Just you wait, we'll get you next time !' thoughts running through their minds right now," chuckled Púrebrú. "Dream on..."
"Papá..." Tóla did an overly sweet smile and a very girly handwave with her fingers.
The sergeant climbed onto the driver's seat, next to the driver. A shaking of the reins and they were off, the horses strolling forward, pulling the wagon slowly but surely to the nearest Watch stationhouse and its custody cells.

Kalev exited Ye Olde Blade Shoppe, now lit up with the light of indoor shrouded gas lamps. He carried an elegant roll-up bag with the new cutlery he had just bought. Skaal also went outside, closed the entrance door and walked over to the group of three customers.
"I hope they serve you and your family well," said Skaal. "The warranty included in the cutlery bag is, I hope, generous. If the cutlery would fail under usual duress and ordinary use, bring it back immediately and I'll give you a refund or replace it with a better set."
Him and Kalev exchanged a handshake.
"Thank you."
"No, thank you. I'm terribly sorry we gave you that much trouble this evening," Skaal apologised sincerely. "You were very patient, brave and willing to step up in the defence of my shop and the other customers. Let's just say I'm thinking of giving you a discount for the year ahead. If you don't mind."
"Well, I wasn't in the Frontiersmen for nothing," laughed Kalev. "Thank you, a discount is a really high-minded present. I appreciate your kindness and won't take it for granted."
He offered a handshake to Púrebrú and Tóla as well.
"Thanks, Mr. ban-Evliyezar. You're a brave fella, and a far better swordsman than I could ever hope to be," Púrebrú smiled.
"Ah, don't doubt yourself. You're not that old. You could still learn decent swordfighting skills. If you'd ever be interested, let me know, I might give you a basic course. Or at least recommend you a good swordfighting trainer, though I'd have to search around a bit. Hadn't been interested in that area for a fair few years now."
"Hm. Wasn't expecting such an offer. I'll think about it."
"Mr. ban-Evliyezar, I would particularly like to thank you for being nearby when I was uncertain in the shop. I owe you one," Tóla shook his hand gently, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone that quietly surprised even Púrebrú. "If you'll ever need any detective, investigative help, contact me," she fished out some thin, hard card from a pouch on her belt and handed it to him.
Kalev took the card, looked at it, nodded, shook her hand again.
"The pleasure is all mine. I'll speak highly of you three to my relatives, you included, ma'am," he said with appreciation. "Crack as many cases as you can.. Preferrably more than noses," he finished with a polite giggle.
Him and Skaal shared one last handshake.
"Relay my best wishes to your wife and children," went Skaal's husky-voiced wish.
"Thanks. I will. Have a nice evening, all of you," wished Kalev and went on his way.

"So, ma'am... Have you are ever heard of Markanov's Gun ?"
"Um, no. Mr. Skaal, where do you get these random trivia ? You said earlier that you're not the most voracious of readers."
"I'm not. Read about it in similar articles as those on Ap-Rhisiart's principle. Markanov's an Ursanian playwright, short story writer, that sort of thing. He had this notion that, if a gun is hanging over the mantelpiece throughout a theatre play, it might as well be used before the story concludes. Well, and you... You showed me your pistol earlier, and you did eventually use it..."
"Three shots, two misses. Learnt my lesson not to use a gun with limited range accuracy over a longer distance."
"True, true. But you fullfilled that principle, amusingly enough," Skaal opined. For a moment, he seemed to be deep in thought. "Oh, yeah, and one other thing. Are you satisfied with your new knuckleduster ?"
"My first and only knuckleduster thus far. I'd say it didn't disappoint !"
"You had a unique opportunity to try it out right away."
"Yes. Though, personally, I hope next time Mr. Púrebrú is out doing a sting, he'll refrain from encouraging criminals and gangs to do a beeline straight to the same establishment where I happen to be at a particular moment," she turned to her colleague in investigating, giving him a bit of an admonishing look.
Púrebrú groaned, sighed, and excepting a shrug, didn't bother to comment.
"All the more that we took away from your precious time." she looked back at Skaal.
"Arh, don't sweat it," replied the wolverineman. "I don't get that many customers throughout the day. Relatively few in the early evening. I'm just glad none of you got hurt, the transactions were carried out... that you customers are satisfied."
"A dokonca sme pomohli Mestskej stráži chytiť šiestich členov gangu, za jeden jediný večer," uchechtol sa Púrebrú.
"Pán Púrebrú... You have friends and contacts among the city's press, have you not ?" Skaal asked diplomatically.
"A few. And I occassionally contribute with penning articles on my findings, though I'm mostly out in the field," he explained.
"How about doing a bit of publicity on these Šruta-affiliated mobsters getting nabbed by the one-man staff and three paying customers at Ye Olde Blade Shoppe ?"
"I don't do promotions," frowned Púrebrú, then patted Skaal on his shoulder, and smiled. "Thanks for helping us out. Especially me, as I was on the run from those thugs."
"Don't mention it. Next time, though, please don't lure them or anyone of their ilk into my shop. It's a real hassle arranging everything with the City Watch and hauling that carpet back to the ground floor," murmured Skaal, with a winking smile.

Tóla and Púrebrú were walking down the street, accompanied by the subtle sounds of the street lamps and the hoots of owls nesting in old attics of the city's rooftops. They would soon part, but for the time being, they'd walk together, chatting.
"Ah, there's that curly-haired fellow again," Púrebrú almost sputtered into laughter. "Still at it with the flyers and everything."
"Do you know him ?"
"Do I ? Even though you've lived here for quite a while, you really don't know that many people yet... By people, I mean... 'local flavour characters'," he grinned.
"That's why I have you around," she smirked. "A local, with detailed local knowledge. You were one of my best guides in Melza during my early days here."
"Tóla giving me a compliment. This is a once in a blue moon kind of eve, indubitably..." Púr laughed, clearly pleased with his sarcasm.
"Be glad for it," Tóla joked. "Like I told that thug from Šruta's gang, I could have aimed at his... ehem..."
"All right, all right, I get your point. Just don't lose your temper and don't get too trigger-happy. For someone who likes to present herself as cool, calm and professional, you really do have a cheeky side, don't you ?"
She didn't reply, but raised a question instead, as they neared the peculiar curly-haired man.
"So who is he ? Does he have a name ?"
"He's Kľus. Just Kľus. If he has any family name, I've never heard of it. Neither has Kľus, probably. He's smart, perceptive, I'd say he has a good heart... but he's a bit... eccentric. And a rascal. Makes some of Kereloj Inger's get-rich-quick cons seem utterly amateurish."
"Oh, don't laugh at him, we're almost near him..."
"Nah, don't worry. He takes it in good humour. Might be just that phlegmatic, might be just that eccentric. Who even knows."
"Sightseeing flights ! Chartered sightseeing flights, with blimps ! Buy a ticket ! Buy a ticket ! You won't regret it ! Fun for the whole family ! Ornithopter flights planned next year !" Kľus was waving either a flyer or an oversized paper ticket, hawking some sort of powered flight offer.
"Good evening, sir," Tóla walked over to Kľus. "What is it you are promoting ?"
He seemed pleasant to her, but smelled a bit. Well, smelled more than most people in Melza, under usual circumstances. The man's body odour aside, a thought crossed her mind. She held it.
"Ah, good evening, madam. I take it you and your... boyfriend ? fiancée ? husband ? and you would be interested in..." he lifted the flyer, holding it right in front of her, "a nice sightseeing flight, provided by a private flight company, a local business here in Melza. Chartered sightseeing flight, aboard one of the company's transport blimps. At a very affordable price. and next year, they intend to add flights aboard one of those new-fangled ornithop..."
"May I ?" she grabbed the flyer or ticket, looking at him with a kind smile.
"Of course ! Thank you for your interest, madam. Study it at your own leisure. You can take the flyer with you, and that lower fourth, that can be torn off and used as a coupon... well... a ticket, really, for the sightseeing flight, which you have to pay for on entry, at the latest. You can also pay me for the flight, right here, right now, and I'll deliver your money and your ticket to the company right away. Overia váš lístok, a všetky výdavky budú uhradené do začiatku nasledujúceho vyhliadkového letu, a..."
"Whoa ! Mr. Kľus, is it ?"
"The same..." he grinned at her, his eyes full of salt-of-the-earth innocence, but... she could see a teeny-tiny little rascally spark in them.
"Mr. Kľus, I will take this flyer and think it through. I currently don't have enough money with me to pay you directly for this wonderful flying extravaganza, but if I ever decide to, I will show up and pay."
"Ah, ah... Yes. Quite right," he said, sounding polite, but vaguely disappointed. "I assure you you won't be disappointed, neither you or Mr. Púrebrú here. A good friend, or that is, perhaps, more of an acquaintance of mine, of many years..."
"Zdravím, pán Kľus," povedal Púrebrú, ledva zadržiavajúc úsmev. "Ďakujeme vám za vašu štedrú ponuku, ale naozaj nemáme záujem."
"Ááá, pán Púrebrú," usmial sa Kľus, keď ho zblízka lepšie rozpoznal. "Ako vravím, je dobré vás opäť vidieť. Ste si istí, že vy a pani manže..."
Púrebrú sa zamračil a Kľusovi zamával gesto "nerob".
"Nejde o to, čo si myslíte, nie," Púr odvetil Kľusovi, "Ja a ona sme len priatelia a kolegovia."
"Och. Madam, mrzí ma to ! Keby som len vedel..."
"Erm, to je v poriadku, pán Kľus," povedala Tóla, trošku zarazene.
Na jeho veľké prekvapenie mu ponúkla potrasenie rukou.
"Ó, ale prečo ?" opýtal sa.
"Videla som vás dnes večer. Keď ste zastavili tú drožku, pomohli ste zdržať utekajúceho zločinca. Dobrá práca, pane."
"Ááách, tak teda to... Nuž, som rád, že som mohol pomôcť !" Kľus sa potkýnal o vlastné slová, no bol očividne prekvapený, zároveň sa cítil poctený.
Púrebrú mu tiež potriasol rukou.
"Dobre. Ešte raz vďaka za ponuku, a obzvlášť vďaka za vašu pomoc, Kľus," povedal. "Nezabudneme na to."
"Rád som vám pomohol. Ste si istí, že nemáte ani najmenší záu..."
"Nie," usmiala sa Tóla. She found him endearing, even if he might be a bit of a scammer and scatter-minded fantasist.
"That's a big ol' nope, my old friend," shrugged Púrebrú. "Have a nice evening. Good luck with any gullib... erm, I mean, interested people."
"Thank you ! Have a nice evening !" Kľus greeted them as they departed. He looked around for a bit and decided to have one last go at promoting his sensational offer of honest-to-the-Maker cheap sightseeing flights in the weeks ahead...
Once the duo were already quite a distance away from Kľus, Tóla spoke up, sounding confused.
"Waaaiiit... Isn't there a real local company offering blimp transport to customers ? Chartered deals and such ?"
"Yes, there is. The problem... They don't know Kľus had appropriated their logo for his flyers and "tickets"... and appointed himself their street advertiser and travel agent all in one," he chuckled.

Kráčali, míňali ulicu za ulicou.
"Si dosť ticho odkedy sme sa rozlúčili s pánom Excentrickým..."
"Všetko v poriadku, Púr. Len som tak uvažovala. O práci. O pracovnej záťaži. Ako si ju s niekým rozumne rozdeliť."
"To mi odľahlo. Už som bol na okamih zdesený, že ti začal chodiť po rozume tvoj osobný život. Pravdupovediac, obaja sme zosobášení s našou prácou."
"Hádam je to najistejšie z manželstiev. Tak, ohľadom tej pracovnej záťaže. Úprimne, treba mi partnera..." načala Tóla, no hneď sa zarazila. "Doparoma. To vyznelo hlúpo."
Púrebrú sa už ticho chichúňal.
"Partnera ? V akom slova zmysle ?"
"Pracovného, samozrejme," zdôraznila každé vyslovené slovo.
"Ach tak. To som rád. You've said before you're not much into relationships... of that sort. Spolusúcitim. Ani ja nehľadám taký druh vzťahu. Určite nie v tomto bode môjho života. Budúcnosť možno naberie iný kurz, ale teraz nie."
"Chápem."
"Uznávam, bola tá jedna okolnosť, v raných mesiacoch našej spolupráce, keď..."
"Ale no, prestaň," náhle namietla. "Áno, stalo sa to. Ale o tom sa nerozprávame... priateľu."
"Neobávaj sa. Je to naše malé tajomstvo. Nie je to niečo, čo by som vyzradil niekomu inému. I was lonely, you were lonely. Sme ešte mladí. Niekedy sa to stáva."
"Ako ťa poznám, určite ťa teraz vyslovene svrbí jazyk, aby si povedal nijaký trápny vtip o tom, ako som spoznávala miestne pomery, a ty zas pomery v cudzine," povzdychla si.
"Odkedy ťa poznám uplynulých pár rokov, Tóla, vždy si mi pripadala ako dosť prieberčivá osoba," ticho sa zasmial. "Neuspokojíš sa len tak s hocijakými medziľudskými vzťahmi. Či už osobnými alebo pracovnými."
"Hádam je to tak," ticho odvetila. "Regarding men, there's simply certain things I seek in men that are not "ako za gryf nožík", ako hovorievate vy Mesťania. No, a, príliš si nelichoť. Nie si zlá partia, ale... u mužov uprednostňujem iné sady vlastností, iné kvality. To je všetko."
"To je úplne v poriadku. Za nič ťa neviním. Pokiaľ vždy budeme vedieť dobre vychádzať ako príležitostní spolupracujúci, nemám najmenšie námietky."
"Vec sa má tak, že ťa naozaj považujem za brilantného vyšetrovateľa, Púr. Rozhodne ním si. Ale si aj takou divokou kartou, alebo ako hovorievajú vo vojsku... či v Stráži, nepamätám... si tak trochu haprujúcim delom. Tvrdohlavým, neposlušným postrachom."
"Vtipné. Ja to často považujemz za kompliment," uškrnul sa. "Haprujúci kanón. Nehrá podľa zaužívaných pravidiel. Tvrdohlavý a z poriadnych trampôt sa vymotá..."
"...alebo zamotá..."
"...s fígľami uskutočnenými na poslednú chvíľu. Hej, to som celý ja," zakončil s úchechtom.
"I just hope you don't overdo it one day. Bravery is one thing, pushing one's luck another. You do seem to have a knack for getting out of absurdly disadvantageous situations, with your wits alone..." she opined.
"See ? Maybe you could learn from me in that department," he said, trying to keep her cheerful. "Look, even with all the risk-taking, I also prefer to be responsible, sensible... Know when to retreat. Know when to fold 'em. I think being careful and patient can get you far."
"I'll say..." she nodded. "With all that said, Púr, though you've helped me with one or two cases in the past, I can't rely on you to be my regular co-worker. I just can't, with a good conscience. I'll need to search for someone more willing to accompany me on my case-solving."
"Ech, skôr či neskôr nájdeš niekoho na spoluprácu. Ja ti neviem, tento by mohol byť skôr rivalom v brandži, ale... Počula si o tom chlapíkovi, o Klužič-Sibiuovi ?"
"O tom aristokratovi z Trinitie ? Nie je on sukničkár ? Erm, nie, ďakujem, radšej nie..."
"Počuť o ňom kadejaké chýry. No napriek všetkým povedačkám je vraj skutočným detektívnym géniom. Tak všetkými masťami mazaný, že by dokázal aj nás dvoch ponechať úplne zmätených a zarazených z toho, ako na niečo prišiel."
"Povedala som o tebe, že si brilantný, Púr. Nie to, že si génius," pobavene sa zachichúňala.
"Á, Hrímlandská ľadová kráľovná Severu sa nám konečne znovu uvoľnila," uškrnul sa. "Dekseriu, alebo ako sa to presne volá, je možno detektívnym géniom, na rozdiel od nás. Zároveň je však aj podstatne majetnejší. Rodinné dedičstvo alebo má štedrých mecénov s plnými kapsami ? Posúď sama... Nikdy som s ním ešte nespolupracoval, zatiaľ nie. Možno nie je typ človeka, ktorý by sa rád podelil o vyšetrovanie. Maj to na pamäti, ak by si naňho naďabila obšmietať sa okolo prípadu, o ktorý máš záujem aj ty."
"Budem na to pamätať. Nikdy som s tým človekom ešte nepracovala. Mám asi radšej moje osamelé trampoty súkromného očka," dumala nahlas.
"Napodobne, hoci neviem, či by som sám seba nazýval rovno detektívom... v obvyklom slova zmysle."
"Tak to si veru celý ty, večne ten najťažšie vymedziteľný chlapík v miestnosti. Alebo si to aspoň o sebe myslíš," poznamenala.
Zrazu pocítil, ako mu na plece položila ruku.
"Ešte nám ostávajú dve ulice, kým sa dnes večer rozlúčime, T. Čo sa deje ?" spýtal sa.
Pozrela mu do očí, zľahka mu položila ruky na plecia.
"Pozri, Púr, si brilantný chlapík, aj trochu pochábeľ, a som rada, že sme priatelia. Odliadnuc od... tej... jednej veci medzi nami, už dávnejšie... Si pre mňa ako brat. Ak mám akýkoľvek druh... rodiny v tomto meste, ak sa to tak dá povedať... si to ty. A potom pár ďalších ľudí, ktorých poznám alebo im dôverujem."
"Nikdy nevieš, T. Možno sme dnes získali nového známeho, toho chlapíka Skaala."
"Áno, možno áno. Dúfajme. Tak či tak, si jeden z mála ľudí, ktorý eel welcome here. Prijatú. Not alienated. To si vždy budem vážiť. Len... by si sa mohol príliš nezamotávať do nerozvážneho prístupu, niekedy to robíš pričasto. Ak sa budeme prehnane sebaisto hnať za vzrušujúcimi prípadmi, nepomôže to nikomu z nás. Dnes som možno zvládla toho rabiáta... Nabudúce... možno už nebudem mať také šťastie."
"True enough. I'll be careful. Come on, we have those two streets left to go, then I'll head to the nearest Swishtram stop," he started walking.
"Nepoužívam Svištivku ktovieako často. Je neďaleko zastávka ?" spýtala sa, nasledujúc ho.
"Hej, nástupište nie je priďaleko od miesta, kde sa rozídeme," poznamenal, a po pár okamihoch ešte dodal, "Si si istá, že v poriadku dôjdeš sama domov ?"
"Ešte mi v koreničke ostali tri pripravené rany. Dnes večer som dvom rabiátom uštedrila oceľové päsťovky. Myslím si, že to zvládnem," pousmiala sa.
"Jasné. To dá rozum," zasmial sa a opätoval psmev. Nikdy jej to otvorene nepovedal, ale bol rád, že ju má medzi svojimi priateľmi.

Púrebrú vyšiel po kovových schodoch na nástupište Svištivky.
Bol tam len jeden postarší pán, skromne, obyčajne odetý. Ticho sedel na ozdobne tvarovanej lavičke.
Púrebrú kývol hlavou na pozdrav. Starček odpovedal pozdravným prikývnutím.
"Mladý pán," zjavne pozbieral odvahu, aby ho oslovil. "Prepáčte, že budem taký smelý, ale nenašiel by sa u vás jeden medený gryf ?"
Púrebrú si povzdychol, a hoci pozorne dbal na svoje bezprostredné okolie, vytiahol zo svojho mešteka niekoľko medenákov.
"Prosím, tu máte," povedal, podávajúc ich neznámemu mužovi. "Ale pekne vás poprosím, pane, využite ich rozumne. Nemíňajte ich zbytočne na nezmyselné veci."
"Môj drahý mládenče, štedrý človeče, miniem ich na polievku a trochu chleba."
Púrebrú prikývol.
"Aj vy chcete ísť Svištivkou ?"
"Teraz už áno. Chcel by som sa ňou odviezť do neďalekej štvrte. Moje nohy už nie sú tak svižné, ako bývali kedysi. Mal by som ťažkosti dôjsť tam peši. Idem na návštevu mojej vnučky."
"Aha. Prajem vám teda príjemnú návštevu."
"Ďakujem. Lately, I've been having trouble with my previous lodgings, but she and a few other relatives have promised to take me in."
"Well, I hope it all turns for the better."
"Myslím si, že sa už tak stalo. They didn't know I've recently been having trouble walking to their quarter. Wasn't sure who I could send with a message. Barely got up here to the platform... Now you've helped me."
"Ááále, veď je to len pár gryfích medenákov... To nestojí za reč," Púrebrú waved his hand dismissively.
"It might not seem like much, but you could have easily distrusted me. We're alone on this platform, the Swishtram's not yet here, I don't even know you, nor do you know..." he mustered up a bashful elderly smile "...me."
"Meno nie je dôležité. Ešte aj v meste tak často nepokojnom, ako je to naše, nepatrím medzi tých, ktorí by nedôverovali iným ľuďom. Part of why I do what I do, in the work that I do, is because I like the people of this city, The City itself... But also the countryside, all the neighbouring countries around us. Not to sound full of myself, but I do care. If I can help at least a bit, I try to help. Even though I know I might not achieve much."
"You're quite a sensible young man, yes..." the old man nodded.
"Here," he took his little notebook with paper pages, he took a pencil, and wrote something on an empty page. "You can get in touch with me here. Not where I live, I don't have the safest line of work, but... you can get in touch."
"May I add something to it ?" asked the old man, his hand reaching for the pencil. Púrebrú allowed him to write in another part of the page. He tore out the part written by the older man, kept it to himself, then tore out the part written by himself and gave it to the man.
"Ďakujem vám. Ak by ste niekedy potrebovali spoločnosť, niekedy potrebovali mať v živote dobrého človeka, vtedy, keď sa cítite naozaj osamelo, navštívte túto adresu." vysvetlil starý pán.
"Kde je to ?"
"Tam, kde býva moja vnučka. Je to dobrá duša, ale je niekedy dosť osamelá. Hovorieva, že by si rada našla blízkeho priateľa."
Púrebrú bol z tej adresy a mužovho návrhu načisto zmätený. No Rather than protest, he decided to quietly accept it.
"Ďakujem."
"Navzájom sme si pomohli."
Onedlho k nástupišťu dorazila jedna zo súprav Svištivky. Nato, že šlo o tak novátorské vozidlo, žiarili jeho predné svetlá jasným, pomerne ostrým svetlom. Bolo počuť zvuk bŕzd. Brzdiaci systém vozidla bol prevažne automatizovaný. Súprava sa zastavila, dvere na vozňoch pomaly otvorili, posúvajúc sa do strán. Púrebrú pomohol starčekovi nastúpiť do vozňa.
"Viete, čo som videl dnes večer, pane ? Mločniaka, akéhosi Mloša alebo ako sa to volal, ako pomohol prekaziť útek jedného zločinca. Nech už mal na to ten mločniak akýkoľvek dôvod. Nebolo to niečo, čo by ste len tak čakali, vzhľadom na to, akú má povesť mlokloľud."
Pomohol starčekovi sadnúť na lavičku vo vozni. Lavička mala veľmi podobný, takmer identický dizajn ako lavičky na nástupišti. Zdobený, prepracovaný kovový rám, ľahký ale robustný, jeho výzdoba zmes organických prírodných motívov a chladných, racionálnych, priemyselných motívov, spleť utvárajúca najrôznejšie abstraktné tvary. Povrch lavičiek bol drevený, mierne sa zakrivoval do vlnkovitého tvaru, pre istotu bezpečného sedenia. Tenšia vrstva čalúnenia na doskách lavičiek poskytovala pri sedení dodatočné, hoci sporé pohodlie. Akonáhle si bol Púrebrú istý, že starší pán pohodlne sedí, prisadol si vedľa neho na tú istú lavičku.
"Všetci sme dietky Tvorcove, mládenče. My ľudia sa tým prapodivným Vodníkom možno zdáme rovnako čudesní, ako oni nám..."
Mechanické vnútro zobrazovača tabuliek staníc na strope vozňa ožilo, klepotavé zvuky sprevádzali prevrátenie jednej kovovej tabuľky za ďalšiu v poradí. Nasledujúca zastávka...
Dvere sa s novým zasyčaním opäť posunuli naspäť k sebe, dotkli sa a zapadli do pôvodnej polohy v bočných stenách vozňov. Pevne sa uzamkli.
O chvíľu bolo cítiť pohyb. Svištivka opustila nástupište a o pár okamihov postupne zrýchlila.
Púrebrú sa zahľadel na matné elektrické osvetlenie vozňa. Bolo to pravdepodobne jedno z mála vozidiel v celej Melze, ktoré bolo vybavené niečím tak novým a neobvyklým.

Starý pán vystúpil pomerne ľahko, na nástupišti v mestskej štvrti, ktorú spomenul. Opatrne schádzal dole schodmi, potom pokračoval v chôdzi po lampami osvetlených uliciach. Ako uistil Púrebrúa, jeho vnučka býva iba pár ulíc od zastávky. Púrebrú si všimol niektorých miestnych, ako nastupujú do ostatných vozňov súpravy, no do jeho už nenastúpil nik. Našťastie, tým pádom nenastúpil ani nikto podozrivý... Nech bol už náturou akokoľvek paranoidný, vnímal to tak, že stretnutie so starým pánom bolo dosť povzbudivé.
Dvere sa opäť zavreli, Svištivka sa znovu dala do pohybu. V susednom vozni spievala matka riekanku smejúcemu sa batoľaťu. Permoní baník a jeho známy, buď kupec alebo priemyselník, ticho diškurovali v ďalšom kúte vozňa.
Všimol si ešte aj raracha sprievodcu, sediaceho za okienkom na konci hlavného priestoru vozňa, v prednej kabíne. Svištivka bola takmer úplne automatizovaná, sprievodcovia boli v súprave prítomní najmä na to, aby dávali pozor, pomáhali vyriešiť núdzové situácie alebo sa venovať problémom medzi pasažiermi.
Cítiac sa trochu znudene, pozrel von oknom, zahľadel sa na panorámu mesta. Posiata najrôznejšími svetlami, Melza sa ponárala do tmy na konci dňa, naplno nastupovala noc. Bezpochyby ožíval aj zločin, prebúdzal sa a stával činorodejším, rôzni jednotlivci a skupiny kriminálneho podsvetia ako obrazní noční tvorovia. Ľahšie sa vykonávajú vlamačky, lúpeže, kadečo, vzhľadom na menej početné zdroje svetla v nočných hodinách, vzhľadom na spiacich ľudí, vzhľadom na ojedinelosť nočných šícht...
Ako tak Svištivka prechádzala popri neďalekých budovách so strmými strechami, s končistými ozdobnými vežičkami a malými pridanými štíhlymi vežami, niečo si všimol. Kútikom oka... Rýchlo sa opäť zahľadel na ten istý bod. Buď je to nejaká socha, alebo voľakto v plášti a kapucni postáva na jednej z tých malých strešných vežičiek. Vzhľadom na pohyb vozidla sa to len ťažko dalo rozlíšiť, no všimol si drobný, nepatrný náznak predĺženej čeľuste s ústami a nosom. Nejde o človeka. Možno niekto z kunoľudu ? Čo tam hore porába ?
Ako keby na odpoveď, postava na vežičke pohla ramenami, zdalo sa že v rukách drží čosi v tvare luku. Vyletel šíp, ťahal za sebou... lano ?
Hm...
Teraz už boli mimo dohľadu. Svištivka za sebou zanechala krátky, trochu zvláštny výjav. Onedlho bola jeho myseľ zamestnaná úplne odlišnými myšlienkami.
Púr si bol trochu neistý, či by mal pokračovať v jazde, akebo pridať ešte pár mincí do stroja pre výber cestovného. Based on his memory of the Swishtram schedule, this evening hours service could soon take him beyond the city's walls, out into the short countryside section of the line... potom do Enemarp.
Kúpeľného mestečka barónstva. Tichého, pokojného miesta. Okrem fajnovejšieho ubytovania tam mali aj lacnejšie podnájmy. Možno by mal pokračovať v jazde, až do Enemarp ? Stráviť tam pár dní a nocí ? Len aby zahladil svoje stopy pred tými otravnými členmi Šrutovho gangu. Alebo inými kriminálnikmi a pochybnými existencimi v Meste, ktoré v priebehu rokov naštval svojou investigatívnou prácou a obsmŕdaním. Zahladiť za sebou stopy, potom sa o niekoľko dní vrátiť...
Babie leto pomaly utíchalo. Stráviť jeho zvyšok v kúpeľnom mestečku a vrátiť sa domov za skorej jesene znelo... dobre.

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♫ V dotyku rána / Mesto vstáva / Už tiene miznú / Už tiene miznú ♫

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Copyright

(C) 2023 P. Molnár 
(C) 2023 Knight-Errant Studios 

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Poznámky k príbehu

"Kolovrátkové leto" je v tomto fiktívnom svete obdobou výrazov z reálneho sveta, vrátane slovenského "babie leto" (alebo ako by povedali angláni, Indian summer, "indiánske leto"). Dôvod, prečo je pomenované podľa kolovrátku, je ten, že mnoho druhov pavúkov snová svoje hodvábne jemné pavúčie siete alebo naťahuje svoje hodvábne jemné pavúčie nite na väčšie vzdialenosti, medzi vyvýšenými predmetmi. Obrazne povedané, pavúky usilovne pracujú na svojich prirodzených kolovrátkoch.

Áno, postava Skaala v tomto príbehu, i jeho Ye Olde Blade Shoppe, sú určitým odkazom na Skallagrima a jeho sériu komediálnych skečov o Ye Olde Blade Shoppe.

V Melze sa nenájde až tak veľa postáv z rosomľudu, pretože mesto leží mimo ich typických domovín, no z času na čas naďabíte na určitých vysťahovalcov, napríklad na Skaala. Hoci jeho postava začala skôr ako humorná narážka, škandinávsky ladené meno tejto postavy uľahčila to, aby predstavoval ojedinelý príklad gulona v danom meste. Akékoľvek budúce príbehy, v ktorých sa objaví, sa budú spravidla zaoberať s jeho prezeraním a zhodnotením rôznych čepelí, s ktorými Tóla nemusí byť dostatočne oboznámená počas jej pátracej práce.

A čo sa Tóly týka... nuž, táto novela ju taktiež predstavuje poprvýkrát. Nie je jediným súkromným očkom v meste, dokonca nie je ani jediným narodeným v cudzine... no je zato jedinou známou ženskou súkromnou vyšetrovateľkou v súčasnej Melze. Ako som spomenul, je v meste cudzinkou, prisťahovalkyňou. Strávila väčšinu svojich mladých rokov na jej rodnom Hrímlande, a ešte stále si zvyká na jej nový domov v Melze. Do mesta sa prisťahovala nedávnejšie, než Skaal, a predtýkm pracovala, študovala a žila v iných krajiných Aporue, no nakoniec sa rozhodla usadiť v Melze, nech už boli jej dôvody akékoľvek. Možno metropola takejto veľkosti ponúka ample príležitosti pre detektívnu prácu ? Môže to predstavovať časť Tólinej motivácie. Tóla prevádzkuje z malej kancelárie drobnú detektívnu agentúru, v ktorej sa počet zamestnancov rovná presne číslu jeden, samotnej Tóle.

Tento príbeh tiež prvýkrát predstavuje čitateľom investigatívca Púrebrú, jedného z troch najvýznačnejších súkromných vyšetrovateľov v meste. Kým Tóla je súkromným očkom, a zatiaľ len spomenutý no nevidený Dekseriu Klužič-Sibius je znudeným, majetným detektívom-samoukom, Púrebrú je (rádoby) elegánskym a energickým pátračom, v ktorom sa snúbi pohľad detektíva, špinavosti odhaľujúceho novinára a dobrodruha na čiastočný úväzok.

A nakoniec, v príbehu sa objavuje aj Kľus, ktorý bude často sa objavujúcou postavou v mnohých príbehoch. Kľus je o niečo neupravenejším a právne pochybnejším, ale sympatickým fantazijným bratrancom určitých reálnych 'postavičiek miestneho koloritu', akým bol napríklad nebohý Ignác Lamár (1897-1967) v Prešporku/Bratislave. Neskôr, v určitých budúcich príbehoch narazíme aj na kriminálnych bossov, ako sú Šruta, alebo ešte neslávnejší Bimir Beič. Na rozdiel od melzanských zlodejov, u ktorých je, trochu protirečivo voči starému úsloviu, predsa len jestvuje istý zmysel pre česť, u rôznych členov gangov v meste sa na žiadnu česť nemožno spoliehať. Ich obvyklé správanie je úplne inou záležitosťou...

Hrímland ("Zem mrazu", "Mrazokraj") je ostrovnou krajinou a (dosť očividne) obdobou reálneho Islandu, ďaleko na severovýchod od kontinentu Aporue. Daná krajina bola osídlená pomerne neskoro, a to ľuďmi, ktorí mali trochu vzdialenejšie spoločné korene s Lokýtmi a Karanťanmi. Miestni Hrímlanďania pozostávajú prevažne z ľudí veľkoľudu i maloľudu, no jestvuje medzi nimi aj úctyhodne početná menšina gulonských usadlíkov. Časom sa Hrímlanďania stali o niečo kultúrne, hospodársky a jazykovo odlišní od ľudí na pevnine i neďalekých súostroviach. Ľudské jazyky Hrímlandu majú archaickejší nádych, založený na starších nárečiach, ktorými sa už na aporuejskom kontinente v dnešnej dobe nehovorí, a ešte aj hrímlandský rosomľud, hrímlandskí guloni, hovoria nárečím, ktoré je v dnešnej dobe už svojbytné v porovnaní s nárečiami ich príbuzných na pevninskom severe Aporue.

Niektoré zo severských krajín Aporue si zachovali tradíciu mien, v ktorej nestvujú osobité, dedené rodinné mená (priezviská), ale len patronymá. Toto sa vyskytuje tak v ľudských jazykoch, napríklad v hrímlandčine, a v jazyku a nárečiach rosomľudu, či už tých na kontinente, alebo usadlíkov na Hrímlande. Ku krstnému menu otca sa pridá mužská alebo ženská koncová prípona, a takýmto spôsobom sa utvorí patronymum, ktoré naznačuje pôvod z otcovej strany, od tej-ktorej konkrétnej osoby. Tak ako prevažná väčšina poradím druhých ženských mien (patroným) na Hrímlande, Tólino patronymum má príponu-koncovku -dautír ("-dcéra"), porovnateľnú s reálnym používaním koncovky -dóttir v patronymách islandských žien v našom reálnom svete. Hrímlandskí muži majú zas príponu-koncovku -son. Gulonskí, rosomáčí majiteľ obchodu, pán Grahnarf, taktiež prísne vzaté nemá nejaké ozajstné rodinné meno, priezvisko po predkoch. Má iba patronymum. V rosomáčtine alias gulončine, jazyku rosomľudu a Skaalovom materinskom jazyku, koncová prípona -narf znamená "-syn" a koncová prípona -núar znamená "-dcéra". Neviem, či má Skaal sestru, ale ak by mal, jej druhé meno, jej patronymum, by znelo Grahnúar, "dcéra Grahrova", pretože otec Skaala a Skaalovej hypotetickej sestry sa volal Grahr.

Podobne, no z úplne iného kultúrneho kontextu, ban-Evlijezar je patronymické priezvisko porovnateľné s reálnym hebrejským (a židovským) patronymickým priezviskom ben-Eliezer, a podobnými príkladmi. Kalevovo krstné meno je dokonca v riadnej hebrejčine, a to vôbec najstaršej forme mužského mena Caleb alebo Kaleb, z nedávnejšej formy hebrejčiny, a z rôznych iných jazykov, ktoré to meno prevzali.

Možno si pomyslíte "Ech, zuby kuny nie sú až také veľké a výhražné, a rosomák je len takou väčšou, siláckejšou kunou, veď rosomák je v podstate dosť milý a pochabo vyzerajúci tvor, takže rosomľud v tvojom fiktívnom svete sú určite nemajú prehnane veľké očné zuby a...", och, pánečku. Och páni, veruže !  Predsrtavte si tieto nie v tlame rosomáka, ale v tlame na výšku útlejšieho rosomáčieho humanoida. Akýchkoľvek ľudských kriminálnikov ohrozujúcich Skaala v jeho obchode čaká strašidelné prekvapenie.

Skaalov meč naozaj je zostrojený v štýle meča z raného stredoveku, konkrétne iterácie mečov, aké poznáme zo Škandinávie a severnej Európy daného obdobia. Menej široká priečka, rukoväť presne pasuje iba pre jednu ruku, čepeľ je zameraná viac na sečné než bodavé útoky. Vzhľadovo takmer ako neskoroantická spatha, len v stredovekejšom prevedení. Primárne sa používa v tandeme s väčším okrúhlym štítom. Rosomľud žijúci na Severe kontinentu Aporue, z väčšej časti neovplyvnený ľudskými kultúrami, štátmi a ich technologickým pokrokom, ešte stále žijú prevažne tradičný životný štýl, ktorý sa storočia nijako podstatne nemení. In turn, the Lengelian sabre borrowed to Kalev počas konfrontácie s členmi gangu v obchode a na ulici, je v podstate poľská šabľa z raného novoveku (szabla) alebo uhorský typ šable oz rovnakej éry (sú si navzájom veľmi blízke príbuzné). Veľmi odolný, všestranný a smrtiaci zakrivený meč zo strednej Európy (a nástupca ťažších šablí z neskorého stredoveku), stredoaporuejská obdoba je samozrejme lengelská, keďže Lengélia je v tomto fiktívnom svete obdobou Poľska. Kalevova finta s predstieraním seku namiereného na hlavu, ktorým oklame protivníka, no rýchlo potiahne zbraňou naspäť a potom vykoná sek šabľou smerom k trupu protivníka, je v skutočnosti veľmi rozšírenou fintou v šermovaní poľskou šabľou. Nemajte najmenšie pochybnosti, že by Kalev mal skúsenosti zo šermiarskych kruhov, vzhľadom na prítomnosť židovských jednotlivcov a autorov v mnohých reálnych neskorostredovekých a ranonovovekých písomných zdrojoch týkajúcich sa šermu a zápasníctva, a vzhľado  na ich prítomnosti a pôsobenie v mnohých šermiarskych spolkoch (príklady z reálnej histórie tu, tu a tu).

Tólinu pištoľ-koreničku si rád predstavujem ako niečo na spôsob tohto fiktívneho návrhu pre taký typ búchačky. (Štýl rukoväte je miernou narážkou na Deckardovu búchačku z Blade Runnera - ak chcete, taký steampunkový bratranec.) Ako poznamenala Tóla, išlo o veľmi zriedkavý palnej zbrane v jej domovine, vyslovene o akúsi limitovanú edíciu, a navyše o búchačku zdedenú od jej otca, ktorý pracoval v policajnom zbore v hlavnom meste Hrímlandu. V Melze je táto búchačka jedinečným zjavom, podobne jedinečná ako Tóla s jej súkromnou detektívnou agentúrou. Ako všetky koreničky, aj táto búchačka sa len ťažko dá považovať za zbraň presnú na väčšie vzdialenosti, no zároveň je na pomery príručnej zbrane detektíva dosť odstrašujúca (obzvlášť v očiach ľudí, ktorí nie sú veľmi zvyknutí na zbrane schopné vystreliť viacero rán po sebe).

Pod výrazom boxer narážam, samozrejme, na tento predmet. Vo väčšine dnešných krajín reálneho sveta by takéto niečo nebolo právne povolené, z dobrých dôvodov. A ako poznamenal Skaal, je to skôr obľúbená zbraň kriminálnikov, vzhľadom na to, že sa dá ľahko a rýchlo ukryť v odeve. Takže zakúpenie si boxera súkromným vyšetrovateľom pre sebaobranu zblízka rozhodne dáva zmysel, ale ide v podstate o vybranie si jednoduchej zbrane používanej mnohými v kriminálnom podsvetí... pre sebaobranu pred ľuďmi z miestneho kriminálneho podsvetia.

Dôvod, prečo Tóla nosí koller ako súkromné očko, je praktický. Týka sa počasia a sebaobrany. A tiež úplne, zaručene, nie je mojou ledva zamaskovanou výhovorkou, aby som danej postave dal "dobe vernejšiu" obdobu nosenia trenchcoatu, moderného odevu, v ktorom bolo vídať mnohých film noir detektívov.

Špecializované hlavice šípov sa už objavili v mojej staršom príbehu v štýle Dňa svätého Mikuláša, v ktorom sa objavovali Ravan a Mürtli (kde využili prevažne šípy s hlavicami plnenými tekutinou, pre zhášanie zdrojov svetla založených na otvorenom, plápolajúcom ohni). Ak si jasne spomínate, Ravan mal so sebou ešte aj omračovací šíp, no našťastie ho nemusel použiť. V tomto príbehu ste však omračovaciu hlavicu mohli vidieť v akcii, keď policajt použil verziu pripevnenú k šípke pre kušu, aby mohol na diaľku omráčiť unikajúceho člena Šrutovho gangu. Čo nezvládli guľky vystrelený z koreničky, zvládla nezraňujúca šípka pre kušu. Farby špeciálnych hlavíc šípov a s nimi spájaných farieb operenia šípu alebo šípky sú zámerne konzistentné, aby bolo jasné, ktorý šíp alebo šípka slúži na čo. Je to obzvlášť užitočné, ak je osoba, ktorá strieľa, v chvate, ponáhľa sa. Ako v jednom bode poznamenali Tóline myšlienky, jestvujú aj maličké, šípkové verzie týchto hlavíc, navrhnuté a stavané pre mechanické šípkometné pištole alebo jednoručné pištoľové kuše. A v takmer úplnom závere príbehu, ten neznámy... zlodej, pravdepodobne zlodej, zazretý z vozňa Svištivky, vystrelil z luku šíp nesúci lano. O takých šípoch sa ešte dozviete viac ako dosť v rôznych budúcich príbehoch...

"Pokladňo-kalk" je prístroj, ktorý by sme, samozrejme, v našom reálnom svete rozoznali ako mechanickú pokladňu v obchode. Konkrétne, je to mechanická pokladňa v štýle 19. storočia, jeden z najranejších typov svojho druhu. Obyvatelia tohto fiktívneho sveta skúšajú, čo môžu, s prevažne mechanickou technológiou, ktorá je im dostupná, aby vyrobili pomerne sofistikované zariadenie (Skaalov obchod disponuje jedným z nedávnejších typov), no stále to nie je ani náhodou niekde na úrovni mechanických pokladní z nášho 20. storočia. Zásuvka v zariadení, slúžiaca ako "uzamykateľná schránka pre hotovosť", je úplne to isté, čo úložná zásuvka mechanickej pokladne, pre vyzbierané mince a bankovky (papierové peniaze), akurát s iným technickým názvoslovím. Čisto mechanické číselné ukazovatele na pokladňo-kalku obsahujú značenie v číslach používaných v archontickej abecede, namiesto abecedy-latinky a arabských čísiel z nášho reálneho sveta.

Skaalov obchod s chladnými zbraňami a kovovými nástrojmi využíva na svoje osvetlenie len malé mechanické zrkadlá (pre osvetľovanie tovaru vo výkladných pultoch a skriniach) a, pre večerné a nočné hodiny, plynové lampy navrhnuté pre interiéry budov (ako v tomto príklade). Elektrina je už v Aporue známa, no je to stále veľmi nová oblasť výskumu. Boli už pokusy, v obmedzenej miere, využiť elektrinu na napájanie zdrojov svetla, na napájanie modifikovaných mechanických kalkov už prítomných v tomto svete (áno, Tóla má dokonca určitý obnos skúseností s týmito zariadeniami), a ešte aj na poháňanie niektorých pozemných vozidiel (či už ranými typmi batérií, alebo prúdom privádzaným prostredníctvom tretej, centrálnej koľajnice), no jednoznačne to zatiaľ nie je rozšírená záležitosť. Toto je svet bez akejkoľvek elektroniky ako ju dnes chápeme, no robil a robí pomalé, nesmelé krôčiky ku využívaniu elektriny.

Melza už má trošku výroby elektrickej energie a niekoľko menších elektrických sietí, v tak trochu jasnozrivej investícii, no tieto rozvody pokrývajú len drobný zlomok Mesta a jeho infraštruktúry. Toto len zdôrazňuje veľkú mieru kontrastu medzi veľmi starým a náramne novým v meste. Najväčším z týchto kontrastov je Svištivka, úspešný projekt vlaku verejnej dopravy v Melza, tak trochu inžiniersky div sveta ešte aj na pomery súčasného Aporue. Prevažne nadzemná mestská železnica, bola navrhnutá a na jej výstavbu dozeral jeden talentovaný miestny inžinier, ktorý pôvodne chcel poháňať jednotlivé súpravy parným pohonom. Keď sa parný pohon ukázal ako nedostačujúci, tento postarší inžinier chvíľu zúfal, že by celý projekt vyšiel navnivoč, no nedávne vedecké prelomy vo výrobe elektriny mu vnukli myšlienku na účinnejší pohon vozňov Svištivky. Inižinier žil dostatočne dlho na to, aby na vlastné oči videl úpravy jeho železnice na využívanie elektrického pohonu a spustenie jej prevádzky. A od tých čias, už pekných pár rokov, Svištivka naďalej spoľahlivo funguje a jazdí, voziac platiacich cestujúcich, a dokonca ju v niektorých oblastiach rozšírili o nové úseky. (Vzhľadom na stredoeurópske podtóny Melzy ako fiktívneho mesta, Svištivka je tak trochu mojou voľnou narážkou na niektoré veci z reálneho sveta. Napríklad na fakt, že Budapešť, mesto, o ktorom by to nik nečakal, bolo druhým mestom v svetových dejinách, po Londýne, ktoré vybudovalo vlastnú podzemnú železnicu pre verejnú dopravu.)

V Melze skutočne jestvuje pár spoločností a jednotlivcov, ktorí vlastnia vzducholode, vzducholode rozličnej veľkosti. Dopravná spoločnosť, ku ktorej sa pán Kľus klamlivo hlásil, prevádzkuje štyri menšie nevystužené vzducholode, menovite Hvezdopravec, Severka, Zatmenie a Klenba nebies.

Nože na jedenie, na stolovanie, ktoré si Kalev objednal a prišiel vyzdvihnúť a zaplatiť predtým, než podvečer v Skaalovom obchode narušili členovia gangu, boli nože na tento spôsob. Skrátka, európske nože z druhého tisícročia n. l., používané najmä na stolvoanie (či už doma alebo na hostine), niektoré použiteľné aj ako kuchynské nože pre ľahšie prípravné práce. Fajnovejšie, zdobenejšie typy týchto nožov sú samozrejme využívané najmä na stolovanie, obzvlášť pre špeciálne príležitosti. Rozličné kultúry v strednom Aporue už začínajú používať niektoré rané druhy vidličiek pre stolovanie, no nôž pre jedenie naďalej ostáva jednou z hlavných pomôcok pre jedenie, popri lyžici. Toto je porovnateľné so stolovacími trendmi, ktoré sa vynorili v 17. storočí, takže neprekvapuje, že k podobnému vývoju dochádza aj v spoločnosti a kultúre v Aporue, a vo fiktívnom svete, v ktorom sa nachádza. Pre stolovanie jestvujú aj druhy kombinovaného príboru - opäť založené na príkladoch z reálneho sveta zo 16. a 17. storočia - ale sú pomerne zriedkavé v porovnaní s obvyklým príborom. Takéto kombinované druhy príboru, napr. začleňujúce do seba prvky vidličky a lyžice (spravidla na navzájom opačných koncoch), sú často obľúbené najmä medzi dobrodruhmi, členmi vedeckých výprav alebo lovcami pokladov vyberajúcich sa do vzdialených krajov.

"Ap-Rhisiartov princíp" (alias Cwlwmceiliogov princíp) a "Markanova puška" sú, ako pravdepodobne tušíte, fiktívnymi obdobami určitých nápadov a myšlienok z reálneho sveta, menovite "Hitchcockovho pravidla napätia, o bombe pod stolom" a "Čechovovej pušky". Reálne priezvisko Hitchcock v skutočnosti vzniklo skomolením pôvodne waleského patronyma, neskôr priezviska, "Richardov syn", "Richardov"). V Dumnonii sa rozpráva fiktívnym jazykom, ktorý v príbehoch znázorňujem ako waleštinu z reálneho sveta, a ak by sa už spomínané priezvisko stvárnilo vo waleštine, znelo by ap Rhisiart ("Richardov", "syn/dcéra Richarda"). Pseudonym toho dramatika, Cwlwmceiliog, preložený doslova z waleštiny, znamená "Slučko-kohút" (cwlwm, "slučka", "slučkový uzol", ceiliog, "kohút", "kohútik"). Anglicky, "Hitch-cock". ;-) Podobne, priezvisko ruského spisovateľa a dramatika Anton Pavloviča Čechova sa dá preložiť ako "Český" alebo "z Česka", takže ursanský spisovateľ a dramatik Markanov má priezvisko založené na Markanii, obdobe historických Čiech/Bohémie/Česka v tomto fiktívnom svete.

Tento príbeh bol akčnejším kúskom. No jedna z vecí, na ktoré sa vždy sústreďujem v týchto (a ďalších) príbehoch je to, aby som sa snažil nepreháňať to s akciou, alebo s tým, čoho sú postavy schopné v rámci miestnych podmienok a okolností, v rámci určitej úrovne technológie, a v rámci ich súčasného stavu. Postavy, bez ohľadu na ich zručnosť, nie sú žiadni superhrdinovia, takže ich nikdy nebudete vídať vykonávať neuveriteľné výčiny. Pomaly ďalej zájdeš, ako hovorí staré príslovie z našej domoviny. Vzhľadom na to, že toto je fantazijný svet, ktorý sa usiluje držať sa pri zemi, a sústreďujem sa v ňom na každodenné zážitky, obavy jeho rôznych obyvateľov, na výzvy, ktorým čelia... vždy som mal pocit, že všetka akčnosť by mala byť relatívne uveriteľná, a postavy zraniteľné, pričom aj obyčajný súboj alebo bojový stret je pre ne potenciálne nebezpečný. Ak by sa ktorékoľvek postavy ocitli v nejakej potýčke, čitatelia by mali pocítiť neustále hroziace riziko.

Taktiež ste si určite všimli, že mnohé z postáv, či už majiteľ obchodu, členovia Mestskej stráže alebo aj súkromná detektívka ako Tóla, sa snažia kriminálnikov zadržať, nepúšťajú sa do ich škodoradostného zabíjania. Tólina licencia pre detektívnu prácu jej tak či tak nedovoľuje zapájať sa do prestreliek ledabolo, takže tak z etických dôvodov, ako i zákonných dôvodov, bola donútená postreliť toho rabiáta do nohy, namiesto voľby očividnejšieho a ľahšieho terča, trupu. Ak by rabiát mal vážne vnútorné zranenia, mohol aj zomrieť. (Hoci v tomto svete nemajú príšernú medicínu a zdravotnú starostlivosť, predsa len nie je ani zďaleka tak pokročilá ako tá dnešná v reálnom svete. Veci sú riskantnejšie.) Postrelenie rabiáta do nohy pod kolenom, hoci bolestivé zranenie, je zranenie, ktoré sa po čase zahojí (na rozdiel od vážneho zranenia kolena, ktoré sa ťažko napráva a lieči bez chirurgie na modernej úrovni) a zranenie, ktoré sa dá v plnej miere prežiť.

Malé cameo roličky v tomto príbehu pozostávajú z Mloša Rutača, mločniaka , ktorý pomohol prekaziť útek rabiáta zo Šrutovho gangu, a... čo myslíte, kto stál hore na tej streche, skrytý prevažne v nočných tieňoch, predtým než sa presunul inam ? Povedzme, že náš starý známy člen kunoľudu a profesionálny zlodej Ravan Hrámer opäť predvádzal svoje vnútorné, á la batmanovské ja... ;-)

Čo pieseň na konci príbehu ? Je to záverečná zvučka z detektívnej série Mesto tieňov, z prvej dekády tohto storočia, ktorú bolo počuť na konci každého dielu. Seriál má pomerne náladový, noirový podtón, takže atmosférická záverečná pieseň s rovnako atmosférickým textom neprekvapuje. Vzhľadom na obsah textu piesne si myslím, že sa dobre hodí ako hudobná bodka za týmto konkrétnym príbehom, kde sa v závere Púrebrú vezie na Svištivke do jesennej noci, kým Mesto spí a očakáva neodvratný východ slnka a ráno. (See also the title card of this very thread, with the silhouette of Melza's panorama bathed in the light of early morning.) Tu je text piesne:

Mesto tieňov, text záverečnej piesne: Mirka Brezovská
Mesto tieňov, spev záverečnej piesne: Lucia Siposová

Dlhá noc
berie dych,
v dave duší
ospalých.

Máš čo máš,
zemská tiaž,
zvádza,
už sa prepadáš.

Výhra, pád,
kolkýkrát,
znova skúšaš
rovno stáť.

Málo síl, rieky slov,
ustáť chceš sám
pred sebou.

Dvíhaš zrak,
dvíhaš tvár,
stíchol dážď
a v diaľke svitá.

Kým vchádza deň,
ty dýchaš s ním,
kráčaš ránom
nesmelým.

Refrén:
V tom prvom
dychu
znova vstávaš,
už tiene miznú.

V dotyku rána
mesto vstáva,
už tiene miznú,
už tiene miznú...

V tom tichu neba,
Ty vstáváš,
Tiene miznú...

Už miznú z Teba.
Tiene zmiznú...

Postavu postaršieho pána ma zastávke Svištivky ponechám na interpretáciu čitateľov.