In Pursuit Of Wisdom (Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

unusual way—the same as the coppers he had seen Manny playing with earlier that morning.  Manny’s a clever fellow, planting them on us.
    “Soldiers, there is no need for your swords here,” Helmut said.  “I bought fish from this peddler a few days ago when we landed in port, and the coppers you see on the table are mine. Search them if you like, but I can assure you that these coppers here were not stolen.”
    Manny the peddler looked at Helmut, who smiled back at him.  Manny looked at the four of them, the soldiers, back to the four, and finally back to Helmut.  “Perhaps…you’re right.”  He gritted his teeth one last time, and then relaxed.  “Manny is just a simple fish merchant.  Perhaps…Manny was mistaken.  Beg your pardon.”  He left without looking back.
    The soldiers eyed Sindar, Lionel, and Helmut suspiciously still, but eventually sheathed their swords.  “Keep out of trouble.  Lord Corovant does not suffer thievery.”  They turned to leave, with their purple capes snapping behind them as they whipped around to exit.
    Helmut drained the last of his mug of ale.  “Now then,” he began, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.  “I’m going to need another pint of ale from your lady before we discuss the library.”
    Lionel just flashed him a smile and ordered another round.   Magi caught Kyle’s eye, and they both relaxed slightly as their hands disappeared under their cloaks, carefully sprinkling marble dust back into a hidden pouch.
    “Bah!  Corovant dandies.  I’d a had them strung up by their pretty little sashes if they came any closer.”  Sindar said, barely whispering.  Magi just smiled and shook his head.  Sure you would have, big guy.

Chapter 2:  Of Thieves and Assassins
     
     
    ~Veronica~
     
    Veronica Edgewild took her seat in the dimly lit room.  Fragrant smoke curled up from a small bowl of smoldering incense in the corner, filling the air with a spicy scent.  She was underneath a small livery shop in the port city of Shoal, or “the Middle Finger” as some sailors liked to crudely put it.  The shop sold all manner of shirts, pants, dresses, hats, boots, cloaks, capes, and gloves.  All of it was made by a pair of sisters, Miranda and Belinda, who were well into their fifties or sixties to look at them.  Of course, only local officials or a handful of merchants bought their finery.  Their top seller was simple bolts of cloth; virtually everyone in Shoal made their own clothing.  The sisters were able to stay open in part because they repaired and tailored old, torn clothes that could be passed down a generation, trading for a few coppers here or there.
    The other reason the shop existed was as a front for the Assassin’s Guild, located in their cellar.
    A handful of heating lamps provided a bit of light for the meeting room in which Veronica was seated.  Adjacent to it were a series of underground rooms, creating a footprint far larger than the shop above.  The Assassin’s Guild was never stumbled upon by chance.  It was possible to search the entire continent of Elvidor and never find it.  Typically, someone had to take an interest in you.  Veronica recalled how someone had taken an interest in her…
     
    ***
     
    Years ago, when Veronica was in her mid-teens, she watched as a man brutally killed her parents.  Not over a dispute.  They killed her parents for seed.  She was the only child of a wheat farmer in the village of Fostler growing up, and they grew wheat to sell to bakers and millers and other families.  But there wasn’t enough for the entire village.  A man came to grow his own wheat, and didn’t have any coins.  Her father tried to barter for something else, but he just took out a dagger and began cutting everyone up.  Veronica was terrified, and ran.  The last thing she saw was her mother’s throat being opened.  For wheat seed.
    Three years in the village orphanage hardened her.  Food was scarce, but she