Five days later.
Reynard stopped in front of the new temporary Snow Trade Emissary building and looked up.
It had only one floor and was generally much smaller and more modest than the previous one, despite being soone’s mansion based on the architecture. A small, badly-kept garden surrounded it, and several soldiers in the Order of Snow’s uniforms were standing at the fence’s gate and near the mansion’s gate.
The mansion itself was enchanted with so protection magic. Reynard spotted so magical runes and felt the mana thrumming in them, but they felt weak and hastily done.
He was sure that if there were any actually good protection spells, they would’ve been placed on the previous Trade Emissary building, anyway.
Reynard also saw four Nigredo and early Albedo magi idling either in the garden or on the nearby street.
There weren’t many other people nearby. This street had mostly mansions of rich rchants or city officials who had close ties with the Order of Snow. The order’s main compound was only several minutes away.
It was very risky what Reynard was about to do. Five days didn’t feel like enough ti to prepare, but he didn’t want to delay things further.
He fixed the large bag that was hanging over his shoulder and went toward the building. The guards let him pass through the garden with only a glance, but stopped him at the entrance.
"What’s in your bag?" a magus asked, pointing his finger. "Show us."
Reynard raised his eyebrows.
"Huh? Is this a toll gate? What’s going on?"
"New instructions from Master Norton, Mister Faust. We must ensure there’s nothing dangerous in there."
Reynard huffed.
"Really? Is that because of the last attack? You know who I am. You think that if I planned to blow up this place, I would just walk brazenly into this building with a bag of explosives over my shoulder, so that everybody rembers who did it?"
The face of the magus guard turned sour.
"Just show the damn bag, foreign rat!"
Reynard scoffed, but took off his bag.
"There’s nothing but the commission orders I was asked to do! Suspicious pricks... If you break anything, I will tell Norton about you, I swear!"
The magus guard glared and rummaged through Reynard’s bag
Reynard glared at him in irritation that masked the slight nervousness he was feeling.
The bag was full of clay jars and large glass vials. So were full of colorful liquids, and so had powders inside. To soone who didn’t study and practice alchemy extensively, those were all just "so potions" and "so powders".
Even a person with practice would have had difficulties identifying the contents of the bag precisely without opening the bottles.
The guard clearly wasn’t an alchemist at heart. A few minutes of rummaging and inspecting bottles under the light later, he gave up and put everything back.
"Whatever. Go in."
"Thank you, kind sir." Reynard made a mocking bow, put his back on, and walked in.
Inside the new Trade Emissary was just like the outside: much smaller and more paranoid. There were fewer clerks and fewer visitors, and most of them looked nervous just being in this building.
But so things didn’t change. The clerks still treated Reynard respectfully. When he said that he wanted to speak with the head of the Trade Emissary directly about his current commissions for the war, soone led him to a waiting table and went to arrange the audience imdiately.
Reynard had ti to drink a cup of tea (kindly made by a nervous servant with a fresh burn over his cheek) before he was led into Norton’s office.
John Norton looked just as dry-cut and gray as every previous ti Reynard saw him. The only thing that the fire had changed seed to be the amount of docunts in the office and the color of the wall panels.
Nobody had ti to paint them white or gray yet, so they were a cheerful green.
"Greetings, Mister Faust. Please, sit." Norton gestured to a wooden stool for visitors. "These days are busy, but I can make so ti for you, as long as you don’t waste it. Did you experience so problems with the commission orders I have sent to you?"
Instead of sitting, Reynard took off his bag and put it on the stool.
"Yeah, a bit. Oh, I have done them, since I’m a loyal ally of the Order of Snow and so on. But I had to do them at the detrint of myself. It was a struggle to find all the necessary ingredients at a price that won’t break my wallet."
Norton looked at the bag.
"If you fulfilled your orders, you should have given the items to the clerks, Mister Faust. I don’t deal with this sort of minutiae."
Reynard smiled.
"I know, I know. But I can do that later. I just wanted to show you sothing I’ve made. The healing salve you’ve asked to brew is a very common recipe, but not the most efficient. I know of a cheaper recipe, but it results in a liquid instead of an ointnt. It’s harder to apply, but it’s just as effective. I assu you will request more of the potion, so I ant to ask if I can make this replacent instead. And I have a replacent for the clothing detergent that’s just as effective in washing off blood..."
As Reynard spoke, he pulled out a pair of small vials from the bag and put them on the table.
"Replacents? Hm... I will need to speak with people who will be using these items before I can decide..." Norton picked up a vial and examined it. "And of course, have an alchemist make an expertise—"
While Norton was distracted, Reynard reached under his jacket, into the holster hidden by clothing.
He pulled out a gleaming golden revolver and aid it at Norton’s head. The magus just had enough ti to look up at it and widen his eyes.
’Idiots... Your guards should have checked my person for weapons, not my bag!’
BANG!
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