Chapter 3

Even though the trips to the farms and small hamlets surrounding Pigsford weren't anywhere near as onerous as he had expected them to be, Marlin still preferred being in town and not walking all day. For the most part he was lazy and unmotivated, knew it and while not exactly proud of it certainly did nothing to remedy the situation. While Pigsford was no capital city, it was clean, orderly and didn't smell anything like its name implied. The food was good, not overcooked and underspiced like it usually was in the city and the people were generally pleasant or at the worst merely reserved. All in all it wasn't a bad place to laze your life away. More money would be nice but with all the meals he'd been offered on the road he was actually a small coin or two ahead for the month.

He sat at one of the tables in the inn's outside dining area musing over the expected and yet wholly undesired visitor he'd received the evening before. He had been putting the finishing touches on another weekly report: an extensive, excruciatingly detailed report of some twenty-plus pages that recorded his travels, farms visited and people seen the previous week. In fact he spent a considerable amount of time doing his best to ensure it was the most flowery, verbose, boring and utterly useless document ever written. He was getting good at it and quite proud of just how many ways he could say absolutely nothing and yet make it seem like on the face of it he was enthusiastically performing his assigned task. Twenty-plus pages that could be summed up in two words: "Found nothing." The report containing the contact with Hampton had been two weeks gone by then and it had only reached nineteen pages; this one was a personal best so far. Unfortunately, his moment of self-satisfaction didn't last long and was interrupted by a knock on his door.

"Yes?" he asked as he opened the door. Standing before him was a nattily dressed man whose knowledge of self-importance could almost be seen hanging around his shoulders like a cloak. Marlin knew who he was even before the man pulled out the little bi-fold leather wallet and flipped it open to display the Talent Agency badge.

"I think you know why I'm here," the man said with assurance.

"Sure," Marlin grunted. "Come on in. I was going to make some tea. Do you want some?"

"No," the Agency operative said shortly. "I'd rather not spend any more time here than necessary. If we can get this done quickly, I can still catch the last coach out before dark. My God, they don't even have a train station here!"

"Very true," Marlin agreed as he motioned for the operative to take one of the two chairs in his small room while he turned around and set his tea in the hot water to steep. "So, I'm new at this. How do we go on? By the way, what's your name?"

"My name is of no concern of yours," the operative sniffed. "I will ask you questions and you will answer them. I will record your answers and send them in with my report. If you lie to me I will know it and I will report it!"

"Sure, no problem," Marlin said unruffled. "Go ahead."

There were a number of standard questions: Are you Marlin Cranson? Are you an Imperial Talent Agency Scout? What is your age? These Marlin answered with polite, short and to the point yes or no's.

"Have you discovered anyone with Talent?" he finally asked.

"Yes."

"Did you report all of them?"

"No."

"No?" the truth-teller said eyes widening in surprise. "Why not?"

"Because they didn't come up to the Agencies level of interest," Marlin said smugly.

"Did you report everybody that met the Agencies acceptance criteria?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you say so?" the truth-teller snapped crossly.

"Because that wasn't what you asked me," Marlin answered blandly. "You asked if I'd reported anybody with Talent. Almost everybody around here has at least a little bit of Talent but I haven't reported them, just the ones over the limit. Given what you asked I had to say no if I were to tell the truth."

"You're a smart ass and a troublemaker," the operative growled and when Marlin didn't respond he snapped, "Well?"

"Well, what?" Marlin shrugged. "That was a statement, not a question. Although I suppose opinion would be more accurate..."

"Enough!" the truth-teller hissed. "Stop wasting my time! I can fully understand why they dumped your insolent ass out here in the middle of nowhere and for all I care you can rot out here forever!"

"Well, not forever," Marlin smiled. "Someday my tour of servitude will be fulfilled and I'll be able to move to the middle of somewhere if I wish."

"I despise cretins like you," the truth-teller said as he stood obviously planning to leave. "You take the golden opportunity the Agency has given you and waste it!"

"True," Marlin said holding his arms out to encompass his surroundings. "Opportunities like this don't come around every day."

The truth-teller frowned and then smiled slyly. "There is one other thing I was asked to pass along to you. The idea of using the census as a cover was quite ingenious; in fact we are going to implement it Agency-wide. It will probably save the life of a good number of our Scouts. The Director wanted me to make sure I told you he was glad he thought of it."

"I'll bet that set your Talent tingling," Marlin laughed.

"It doesn't bother you he is taking credit for it?" the truth-teller asked curiously.

"Hmm," Marlin pondered a bit. "I suppose it does just a little. Everybody likes to get the credit they deserve. But then I can't say I'm all that surprised. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if most of his good ideas were stolen. Make sure you put that part in your report and you already know I'm speaking the truth." Marlin's eyes twinkled just a little as he said it.

"Just because you believe it doesn't make it the truth," the truth-teller growled and turning around stomped out of the room.

It didn't turn out too badly, Marlin thought as he sipped on a cool beer while idly perusing the menu wondering if he should eat cheep or blow his pitiful fortune all at once. Won't help me any but then not much would, so why not have some fun? He sensed more than saw a body pass by his table and head into the front door of the inn. Lifting the beer to his lips again he looked up curiously and almost dropped it in his lap as his brain ceased to pay attention to minor things like telling his fingers to hold onto the glass.

What he saw was the backside of a girl as she strode purposefully through the dining area and into the inn. The first thing he noticed was the damn near perfect ass encapsulated by the shortest and tightest pair of shorts he had ever seen that didn't qualify as underwear. The next thing he noticed was the long dark brown, almost black hair flowing over her shoulders and down to the small of her back. Lastly, there were the slender, tanned, bare legs rising up out of the tops of over the calf, skin-tight black boots to met with the oh so perfect posterior which of course started the cycle all over again. Unfortunately his eyes couldn't complete their third circuit before she disappeared into the darkened interior.

"Holy shit!" he hissed to himself. "If the front of her is half, no, a third a good as the back that is a girl I want to meet." Putting actions to words he scrambled to his feet and calmly walked into the inn himself.

"I'm sorry, Miss Melody, but you know the rule," the innkeeper shook his head as he stood behind the counter. "I don't hire no witches. I know you'd be a hard worker and I ain't got nothing against you personally but too many of my customers won't have any business with a witch. Ain't nothing I can do about it."

Marlin slid to one side of the doorway when he entered far enough away he couldn't overhear exactly what her reply was although it was obviously a plea of some kind. Marlin could see her profile as she adamantly made her case to seemingly no avail and he was pleased that not only was the front view equal to the rear it was quite possibly even better. From what he could see her face was delicate and expressive although he was still too far away to see much detail. She wasn't overly blessed in the breast department but neither was she shorted in that respect either. Very well proportioned is what he would have said if anybody asked him. He couldn't fully see her face but what he could see looked good; no huge hooked nose or obvious deformity anyway.

From the looks of it her pleas were having no effect on the innkeeper although he didn't look happy about it. After a few minutes the girl must have come to the same conclusion because her shoulders slumped and her head drooped. Without another word she turned and started slowly walking towards Marlin and the door.

As she passed by him Marlin spoke softly, "Having some problems?"

Startled she looked up at him and grimaced. "Go ahead," she growled at him in a voice equal parts resignation and outrage. "Ask, then I can tell you to go to hell and you can get out of my way."

"Oops, didn't mean to block you," he replied ignoring both her tone and the obvious question. He hadn't been blocking her path but took a half-step backwards anyway just to make sure she knew it.

"Well?" she asked practically tapping her foot. She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Well, what?" he replied back. He was finally able to get a good look at her and even with the pursed lips drawn down in a frown, narrowed eyes and arms held tightly across her chest it was well worth the look. She had a wide oval shaped face with unblemished skin framed by that impossibly luxuriant long dark hair. She was a little bit shorter than he was, the top of her head coming up to about the same level as his own eyes. Without the heels he just might be able to rest his chin on it.

"Well, ask it!" she spat.

"Okay, I will," he answered raising his hands in surrender. "It's a little early for a real drink but I was wondering if you would like something to eat if you're hungry? If not then maybe just a sit in the shade with some iced tea or some fruit juice?"

"I am not a..." she started and then stopped short; obviously she was answering a question he hadn't asked. "Ah, what did you say?"

"I was trying to ask you to dinner," he grinned. "Or failing that maybe just to sit with a cool drink and talk awhile."

"Why?" she looked at him suspiciously.

"A man needs a reason to ask a pretty girl to dinner or for a drink?" he came back with his own question.

"Well..." she hesitated.

"Tell you what," he said gesturing with his arm towards the outside tables. "Why don't we sit down and have something cool to drink and you can decide whether or not you wish to dine with me afterwards. I assure you there is nothing more implied than just a request for company while I sup."

"I suppose..." she began again.

"Please, allow me," he said bringing his hand around her back and just barely touching her with his fingertips. "I already have a table."

"Okay," she agreed moving away from his touch in the direction of the tables. "But just for a glass of juice."

"Of course," he said jovially. When they reached his table he pulled her chair out for her and, after looking at the chair and then him, sat down still looking at him slightly askew. After pushing her chair in for her he sat himself and waved to the server looking at him from the doorway.

"Fruit juice, right?" he asked and she nodded. "Carla, two fruit juices please."

"Anything else?" Carla asked sharply pointedly ignoring the girl sitting across from him.

"Not just yet I think," Marlin said overlooking the server's deliberate rudeness.

"Carla's in a bit of a foul mood today," he mused as he stared at her retreating back.

"It's because of me," the girl admitted crossly. "I'd better go if you ever want to be fed here again," she said and started to rise.

"Please don't," Marlin said reaching out to lightly grasp her hand. "I'd rather have your company now than eat here in the future if that's the alternative."

"I doubt that," she snorted but sat down anyway.

"So, why would having you at my table bring on such a remarkable reaction?" he asked. "Are you married? Maybe being seen in the company of an unmarried man would blemish your virtue and standing in the community. Or maybe you're too young to be seen with me. Is that it? If that's the case then I'll have to assure you and your father, assuming he's as large as most of the men around here seem to be, that my intentions are totally honorable."

"No I'm not married and no I'm not too young," she replied with just a hint of a smile on her lips.

"That's a relief," he said pretending to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Although I must admit I don't think I've ever had this much trouble just getting a girl to sit down with me for a drink."

"Some kind of super stud, huh?" she snarled and pushed back her chair preparing to stand up.

"Don't I wish," he said with an exaggerated sigh while making no move to stop her. His lack of aggression caused her to pause for a moment, ready to stand and leave but not doing it quite yet. "No, while my overly sensitive male ego would love to tell you I have conquered every woman who's caught my eye, honesty ― and reality ― demands that I admit somewhat less than one-hundred percent have fallen victim to my evil ways."

"Somewhat less than one-hundred percent, huh?" she said with raised eyebrows. "And just how much less are we talking about?"

"Well that's not fair," he protested. "If I'm ever going to have a chance to seduce you, how can I possibly do that if I tell you just how inept I am?"

"Seduce me?" she growled, her face hardening again. "I knew that's all you wanted."

"Well, I have to admit it wasn't your bubbly personality that caught my eye as it wiggled past my table," he grinned and settled back in his chair. "I am a man and carry all the baggage that entails. I see a beautiful woman and naturally I evaluate her as a potential mate. You are an extraordinarily beautiful girl and the crass animal part of my brain naturally did it's best to ensure the rest of me knew what it was thinking." He leaned forward still grinning and propped his elbows on the table, "But I think I can restrain myself. At least long enough for you to safely finish your fruit juice."

"Oh you can, can you?" she visibly relaxed a little and as if daring him, reached out and took a sip of the juice. He laughed and sat back in his seat again.

"I think so," he said still chuckling. "But now that it appears you aren't going to run away like a frightened doe being chased by a hungry wolf I have to say something other than your beauty has tickled my interest. I am intrigued by the thought that I shall now become a starved, skeletal scarecrow for having the audacity to sit in a public establishment with a pretty girl. Would you mind elaborating on that?"

"It's because I'm a witch," she answered harshly. She peered at him waiting for the expected reaction. Needless to say she was surprised by what did come.

"If you mean you have some measurable amount of Talent, so what? Who doesn't?"

"What?" she asked totally taken aback.

"I said, so what?" he repeated. "I don't want to sound like some jerk from the city crying over how backward you country folk are but Talent is fairly common. In fact I have it on good authority that most people have at least a touch of it. Why, I'd be willing to bet my meager salary that our good innkeeper inside has a bit of it himself. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"They tolerate witches where you come from?" she leaned towards him and whispered.

"Hmm, tolerate is probably a good word to use," he answered thoughtfully. "I'm not saying anyone who has enough to be in the Emperor's Talent Agency is particularly well liked but I have to believe that's mostly because of the amount of Talent they have as opposed to having any at all."

"It doesn't bother you I'm a witch?" she asked confused.

"I don't know why it would," Marlin answered. "I have a little bit myself." Her eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped in shock.

"You shouldn't say that!" she hissed. "Besides, how would you know?"

"Remember that 'good authority' I mentioned? Let's just say he's in the Talent Agency and I found out through him." Unlike some people Marlin enjoyed the game of having everything he said be the absolute truth while still being able to hide what he wanted to behind it.

"A friend of yours?' she asked.

"We're very close," he nodded.

"But before we engage in conversation about such weighty subjects I think we should at least be introduced," he stretched his hand out to her. "I'm Marlin Cranson and I am very pleased to meet you."