Swamped

"Right. First, can I come in, I might have drawn some unwanted attention."

The Postmaster groans again.

"All right. But don't think you're getting off easy, even if you do have something important to tell me."

Well, it's not as if you haven't gotten a lot of free time today. Can't hurt to pay it back. You step inside and the Postmaster closes the door.

"So what's this about."

"First off is what I've heard about Ash."

"That's important, but most likely not can't-wait-until-morning important."

"Even if he's involved with a group of corrupt merchants?"

The Postmaster pauses.

"I'd be very surprised if that was the case. Have you got proof?"

"Not... hard proof. Not yet. But I did get Squib to slip up and mention 'the Guild', and if you'll pardon me saying so, he doesn't seem like the sort who's smart enough to make those kinds of connections on his own."

The Postmaster just grumbles for a while.

"I'm not eager to accuse an officer on such grounds."

"It's not just that. I talked to quite a few knights who just don't trust him. Even got punched by one when I brought up his name. A story like that floating around would make things even worse. Whether the accusations are fair or not, I don't think he can be effective as a commander under those circumstances."

The Postmaster doesn't say anything for a bit.

"I suppose that's clear enough as far as the vote goes," he sighs. "I hope it's not true, but even then, we'll need to have a talk with Ash about building trust with the rank and file. Pains me to think that we'd have such a gap, whatever the reason for it."

You don't say anything.

"But that still could have waited until morning, couldn't it?"

"Well, yes," you agree. "But, er, there's this other thing, someone who's very eager to get a letter sent off tonight. And, ah, doesn't want a lot of attention drawn to it."

The Postmaster stares at you.

"A favor's a favor, I suppose," he shrugs. "I won't even ask questions. I'll give you the keys, and write you a note to show the patrollers. Just don't get in further trouble. I could really use some sleep."

"Yes, sir!"

Well, that worked out well, at least. You head back out with the note and soon encounter the patrolling group. There's four of them; probably one stayed back to keep watch on the hall you fled from.

"Halt!" one of them says.

You hold up the note.

"Running a quick errand for the Postmaster," you explain. "He's been stressed lately and forgot to feed one of the crows, so I'm doing it for him."

The patrollers glance at each other.

"Is this your book?" one of them asks, holding up the one you threw earlier. He sounds more than a little suspicious of you.

How should you answer?