He said nothing initially, watching in mute surprise, his voice stolen from him as he watched the Brother lean away and proceed to derobe. The passive stared at the poorly healed laceration. His first thought was to hold his breath, for surely something so jagged carried it’s own smell: even though it looked sewn up, there was nothing neat about it. His second thought wondered how Corwynn was still standing.
Tearing his gaze away from the wound, he forced himself to meet the other’s eyes. The threats flew from the golly’s mouth with the ease and precision of a practised criminal. Leo, through having spend his life around these people, was new to it, and didn’t doubt the veracity of the threads. Corwynn was not the type to waste his breath on empty threats... and he did not seem to enjoy having to repeat himself.
“Look...” Look what? Leander swallowed and stared down at the forged ledger in his hand. “Can...”
With the man less in his space than he had been all evening, scar still on display, Leo stood back, giving himself room to breathe. “This ledger claims spices were being brought into Old Rose Harbor. It was created it a month ago, give or take.” He handed the ledger over, as carefully decorated and lettered as any real ledger. “I know it’s a forgery because I created it.” There were, of course, tell-tale signs that it came from him: a signature, of sorts, that any counterfeiter could read and know of its origin. But he wasn’t about to tell Corwynn what those signatory elements were.
“You see it’s for spices, cumin and the like. Other spices, well they were on the original ledger, and the... client wanted another spice added: saffron.” He could get killed for this, he knew, but he was keenly aware that his silence now would also spell a death sentence. “There’s a new drug, I don’t know it’s name, but the bloke was running his mouth off, cawing about how the Bad Brothers were blind fools. They planned to sneak it in right under your noses.”
At the time, Leo hadn’t yet been drafted into Silas Hawke’s service, he had not even met the man... and even then, he did the work Resha ordered him to do. Counterfeiters didn’t take sides, unless they were indentured to a single man, which Leo wasn’t. They worked without prejudice, even for the Drain. He didn’t tell Corwynn this though - like any excuse would matter to him. “This ledger is dated five days ago. I suspect they carried more valuable cargo than drugs... but the man was far too smug about this drug which could sneak through undetected from the authorities or the Bad Brothers. An ounce is worth about three quarters of a bird, that’s how sure they are this drug won’t be found. An illegal high that no one can find, and Hawke is missing out on taxes and income.”
The boy paused, considering, then, “They’ve commissioned more, that’s what I’ve been working on today. Some ten ledgers, dating once a fortnight for the next couple of months. I don’t know who you got that wound by, or why. But if it’s the Drain, they’re sending you on a damn wild goose chase, ‘cause this is where they’re making their money now. By summer, I estimate they’ll have enough coin and assets to unthrone Hawke. The right people, that is to say, the criminal underground, seek the most lucrative business rather than safety. Else they’d all be sitting on their grandmother’s knees at home knitting a fancy scarf. ”
The term “shoot the messenger” came to mind as Leo watched the other man’s face carefully. “Rumour is Hawke has become too complacent. He thinks he controls the underground, as well as everyone else. He’s sat on his cushioned throne too long and gone soft. Easy to challenge, easier to beat. Maybe they think you are an easy target too, best displaced before you learn of their plots. This... “Sparrow” knows what the people want, he know what he wants. And he’s willing to use you and Hawke and everyone without you even realising it to get to the places he wants to go.”