Chapter 84: Another Ghost?
"Bonn isn't the first victim. After the incident, we sent someone to question the City Watch at the scene. They said there have been numerous similar incidents in Flea Bottom in recent days," the messenger replied.
"City Watch? There's City Watch in Flea Bottom?" Flea Bottom was such a wretched place that the gold cloaks usually avoided it on patrol.
"We were surprised to see gold cloaks patrolling Flea Bottom when we first arrived, but then we found out that the Small Council had deployed a company of City Watch to Flea Bottom to ensure there would be no disturbances during Lord Jon Arryn's funeral."
"Didn't Lord Arryn's funeral already end?"
"Those gold cloaks were complaining about it. Right after Lord Arryn's funeral, the king took half the Small Council north, and the Master of Laws, Lord Renly, is a man who never takes care of such matters. As a result, their company was forgotten in Flea Bottom and never received new orders."
"Ugh." No wonder Robert was in such a hurry to go north to find his old friend Eddard Stark. In a city as large as King's Landing, there were either schemers or ministers who accomplished nothing. After Lord Arryn's death, there was no one who could actually get things done.
"Ahem," Ian changed the subject. "Have you learned what exactly these 'incidents' the City Watch mentioned are all about?"
"They're all murders. The victims," the messenger said carefully, glancing at Ian, "are almost identical to the ones you asked us to hunt: hedge knights, sellswords, or other lone warriors."
It was indeed the players' doing! Someone had cast a wide net in Flea Bottom! Ian suddenly thought of the decreasing player count over the past two days. It seemed those newly eliminated players had all spawned in King's Landing.
"The most terrifying thing," the messenger continued, seeing that Ian didn't intend to explain, "is that there's no sign of struggle at any of the murder scenes. And they clearly happened in the crowded streets of Flea Bottom, yet there's not a single witness who saw any suspicious person enter or leave the scene."
"You mentioned the term 'The Stranger's Curse' earlier? Where did that come from?" Shouldn't these strange murders usually be blamed on ghosts or demons? Why were they being attributed to the gods?
"This..." the messenger was stumped by the question. "I don't know. That's what they're calling it, but I don't know why."
"Try to find out and report to me next time," Ian's intuition told him this clue was very important. "Now tell me something more specific. Were you one of the men watching the dead-end alley at the time?"
"I was in charge of the small house inside the alley. That's why the captain sent me to find you. There are many details that only I can explain clearly."
Unexpectedly, the 'Foul Jester' was quite thorough. "Starting from—" Ian wanted to say the bait, but he quickly realized it wasn't respectful to call someone who died in his service by that term, so he changed it, "Starting from Bonn's return to the dead-end alley, tell me everything that happened."
"Yes, ser. At that time, after Bonn finished walking the main streets, he returned to the room he'd rented, alone. After he entered the alley, we kept watch from the window. No one followed him at all, and no one approached the yard where he was staying."
"How did you discover he was dead?" Ian asked, puzzled.
"It wasn't us. The first person to discover Bonn had been killed was his landlady, a very fat old woman."
"He lived with the landlady?"
"Of course not. At the end of the alley is a small courtyard with about three or four rooms, all owned by the old woman. Bonn only rented one of them."
"So that courtyard was in your blind spot?"
"Blind what?" The messenger seemed unfamiliar with the term.
"The courtyard was out of your line of sight?"
"Right. Because the old woman's prices are so high, her rooms rarely get tenants in Flea Bottom. This is easy information to learn in the neighborhood. Bonn renting a room there not only made him look like easy prey, but also gave his target confidence to attack him without worry... after all, there's no one else there."
"So that's why you didn't station anyone else inside that courtyard?"
"Yes."
"Besides Bonn and the old landlady, was there anyone else living in that courtyard?"
"No."
"What was the landlady's reaction when she found Bonn dead? Did she scream? And then you rushed in?"
"No," the messenger shook his head. "The landlady didn't react like that at all. She just quietly left the courtyard. We saw her leave, and although she was in a hurry, we didn't think much of it. It wasn't until she brought back a squad of gold cloaks to her courtyard that we realized something might be wrong."
"How did she get those gold cloaks to actually respond?" Ian found it incredible. Those thugs from the City Watch never liked getting involved in Flea Bottom business.
"Perhaps it's because so many incidents like this have happened in recent days, and the captain of the gold cloaks is feeling pressure?" the messenger speculated.
Ian nodded. He shared the messenger's assessment.
This kind of continuous mass murder, even in a place as wretched as Flea Bottom, would have demanded the attention of the City Watch captain responsible for maintaining order there. Otherwise, if word reached the Commander of the City Watch or even the Master of Laws, even if he wouldn't be held directly accountable, he would inevitably be labeled incompetent.
"Anyway," Ian continued, "no one except Bonn, the old landlady, and the City Watch ever entered the yard where Bonn died, correct?"
"Yes, ser."
"But you could only monitor the gate, right? What about the walls? Could the killer have climbed over?"
"The yard is bounded on two sides by the house walls themselves. The only independent walls are the main gate and the two sides facing the main street. We were watching the main gate, and the back wall was under surveillance by another group of ours. While it's low enough to climb, it's not easy to escape our notice!"
So was the murderer another ghost? "How did Bonn die?" Ian pressed on.
"The brothers we sent to talk with the gold cloaks got a quick look and saw that Bonn had wounds caused by an axe. The attacker had pierced his mail from the front, leaving a massive wound in his chest."
"Where is his body now?"
"It was taken by the City Watch," the messenger explained. "Our men were pretending to be bystanders, so there was no way they could ask the gold cloaks for the body."
"Anything else unusual to report?"
"No, ser."
(End of Chapter)
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