Goblin Precinct (Dragon Precinct) (20 page)

Of course, Harcort and Fentin were likely to come back to her whining about the loss of the promised investments from the Cynnis family, but it never should have gotten to the point where the infusion of capital from the Cynnises was required. Proper money management would have made that an added benefit rather than a necessity.

In any case, that had to be put off because Albin had been called into a meeting.

Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue, but Albin was very ill. This wasn’t his usual late-summer sickness, either, as that was usually improved after a few days. No, he’d been growing steadily worse, and the healers had no idea what to make of it.

And were the meeting called by anyone else, Meerka’s response would have been to tell them to go away because the lord of the demesne was too sick to talk to anyone. But the meeting was with Gunderson, the new local representative from the Brotherhood of Wizards. One did not refuse meetings with the brotherhood.

So Meerka accompanied Albin to the meeting to make sure he didn’t overtax himself. It had gotten so bad that Meerka had sent for their son, Blayk, to return from Iaron, where he’d been living with his wife’s family for the past five years.

Besides Albin, Meerka, and Gunderson, present in the sitting room—with the fire blazing in a desperate and failed attempt to keep Albin warm—were Captain Osric and that elf general whom Marta and Marcus desperately wanted them to all be nice to for no good reason that Meerka could determine. Gunderson was seated on the sofa, with Albin on the chair nearest the fireplace, Meerka in the chair across from him. The elf and Osric both stood.

The meeting could finally start when Boneen arrived. “My apologies for being late.” He moved to join Gunderson on the couch.

That elf—whose name Meerka did not consider it worth her time to remember—spoke first. “Morenn must return with me to elven lands to stand trial for her crimes against the elven nobility!”

Boneen stared incredulously at the elf. “And what crimes would those
be
, exactly?”

“She is responsible for the death of a person of interest in the war crimes trials that I—”

“As I already told you,” Boneen said testily, “lothSerra caused his own death.
He
took the drug.”

“That woman is still responsible!” The elf was striding toward the couch now.

Osric pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and walked over to the drinks table. “Fanthral, stop being an ass.”

The elf—Fanthral—whirled on Osric. “I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you want, you won’t get it.” The captain poured himself an amber liquid. Meerka had no idea what it was, as she avoided alcohol. It made her lose focus.

“LothSerra killed himself. If he’d done it with a dagger, we wouldn’t arrest the smith who forged it.”

Turning away from Osric, Fanthral looked at Albin, who just seemed miserable. “I warn you, Lord Albin, I was promised full cooperation by your monarchs, and if I do not receive it, you risk war.”

“Yes,” Osric said with a snort, “we risk war with a government that may not survive the year. We are quite frightened, I assure you.”

“Are you mocking me, Osric?”

“Very much so, yes.” Osric walked over toward the elf, and Meerka was worried that they’d start a fistfight. “It doesn’t matter what crimes you
think
she committed. We
know
she’s an accessory to three bank robberies and the murder of one of my detectives. She needs to go before the magistrate, and—”

Gunderson finally spoke. “Unacceptable. She is in violation of our primary bylaw.”

“Well, that’s not right,” Meerka said.

Albin stared at her with a look that Meerka recognized as the one he gave her when she said something inappropriate. But to her mind, what Gunderson said was more inappropriate.

“Excuse me?” Gunderson said archly.

“I’ve studied the bylaws of the Brotherhood of Wizards on several different occasions, and I distinctly recall that the first one is that ‘A brotherhood scroll that has been be-spelled must then be sealed with the brotherhood seal.’”

“The point is—” Gunderson started.

But Meerka wasn’t finished. “In fact, there’s nothing in your bylaws that says anything about not allowing women to be a part of the brotherhood.”

“It’s inherent,” Gunderson said in a rather tight voice. “Women cannot be—”

“Brothers?” Osric asked with a smirk.

Gunderson stared witheringly at the captain. “Wizards, obviously.”

Boneen looked at Gunderson as if the other wizard had grown another head. “I’m fairly certain she’s conclusively proven that to be false.”

Waving his arm dismissively, Gunderson said, “She may have learned a few minor tricks, but—”

“She created a magickal drug that has hooked half of Cliff’s End,
and
she performed a Teleport Spell on a dozen people, with only moments to prepare, to a location she’d never been to before. That’s not a few minor tricks, Gunderson, that is a
wizard
.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Gunderson looked away from Boneen and right at Albin.

Albin looked helpless for a second, so Meerka spoke again. “It does matter, actually. If there is no bylaw that women can’t be mages, than you have no grounds for your objection.”

Gunderson was getting very obviously angry now, which confused Meerka, as she thought she was clarifying the situation with her explanations. After all, if Gunderson wasn’t familiar with the brotherhood’s bylaws, he should be grateful that she was there to remember them for him.

“It is irrelevant!” he screamed.

Albin said in a croaking voice, “Please, Gunderson, if you would be so kind as to not shout.”

Inclining his head out of respect, Gunderson spoke more softly. “My apologies, Lord Albin. But as I was saying, it is irrelevant. Regardless of her sex, this woman—”

“Her name is Morenn,” Boneen said.

Gunderson gave Boneen another withering look. “Regardless of her sex, this Morenn woman is practicing unlicensed magic, and dealing with her falls within the brotherhood’s purview.” Now he transferred his gaze to Meerka. “
That
is in both our bylaws
and
in the legal code of your demesne.”

Meerka blinked. “Of course it is. I already knew that, I don’t see why you’re telling me.”

“But that’s not always so, is it?” Osric asked. “Earlier this year, we had a wizard murdered named Efrak. He wasn’t a member of the brotherhood, so you all refused jurisdiction, allowing my detectives to handle the case.”

Boneen said, “Efrak was a special case, Captain.”

“So is this!” Osric then looked pained, and glanced over at Albin. “Apologies for shouting, my Lord.”

Albin inclined his head.

“One of my detectives is
dead
, and Morenn is partly responsible. What’s more, she
admits
responsibility, and is willing to abide by whatever decision the magistrate makes regarding her fate. After her case is heard, we’ll be happy to turn her over, once she has served whatever sentence is given her.”

Gunderson raised an eyebrow. “And if she’s put to death?”

“It seems to me that would solve all your problems, wouldn’t it?”

A knock came at the door. “Come in,” Albin said, sounding relieved at the interruption. For her part, Meerka wasn’t at all grateful, as this would make the meeting take even longer.

Nuge, one of the pageboys, entered. “Excuse me, my Lord, but Lieutenant Tresyllione is outside. She says she needs to speak to you urgently.”

“I’m afraid she’ll have to wait until we’re finished with this meeting, Nuge. Tell her to wait, please.” Then Albin started coughing.

Once the coughing fit was over, Nuge said, “Begging my Lord’s pardon, but she said that you might say that, and she said that if you did say that, to tell you that what she has to tell you relates directly to what you all are talking about.”

Osric said, “I can assure you, my Lord, that the lieutenant would not willingly set foot in this wing of the castle unless it was urgent.”

Albin sighed. “Very well, Nuge, send her in.”

A very unattractive woman in Guard armor and an earth- colored cloak entered the sitting room. Based on the odd combination of features, she had to be the half-elven lieutenant, which matched the name spoken by Nuge.

“I’m sorry for interrupting.”

Meerka frowned in confusion. Usually when someone apologized in this room, they sounded like they meant it. Lieutenant Tresyllione, however, sounded incredibly insincere. Meerka was glad to see that someone else hadn’t gotten the hang of that, either, and she made a mental note to get to know this woman better.

She went on: “But I’m afraid I have some news. Morenn has killed herself.”

“Really?” Gunderson stood up. “Well, Captain, perhaps you were right. Come, Lieutenant, let us see the body.” The wizard shook his head. “I’m not surprised—women don’t have the fortitude to handle adversity in such a manner.”

Meerka saw Lieutenant Tresyllione’s fists clench. Yes, she definitely would have to get to know her better . . .

NINETEEN

TORIN STOOD WITH HIS FELLOW MEMBERS OF THE CASTLE GUARDON an empty dock. The early-morning sun glinted off the Garamin Sea. Ships were tethered to the docks on either side, but were relatively quiet.

All the detectives were present, along with Osric, and guards from all five precincts. The wooden planks groaned from the weight of so many armored figures standing on it, but the docks were built to withstand the weight of several hundred fish every day, so they would likely hold.

The unusual lack of activity was no doubt out of a combination of respect and fear. Illegal activity was more or less the order of the day on the docks, and the guards of Mermaid Precinct generally restricted themselves to dealing with the most heinous of crimes, and otherwise mostly just participating in the graft. A recent attempt to clean up Mermaid had failed rather spectacularly—but even so, the dockrats knew that today was
not
the day to be pressing their luck.

Dru stepped forward, holding an urn filled with Hawk’s ashes. He turned to face the dozens of guards present. Off to the side were five civilians. Torin only recognized two of them: Hawk’s father, who looked remarkably robust for a man who was supposedly so infirm that Hawk had to take care of him during off-hours, and a woman whose husband had been murdered a year ago. Hawk and Dru had caught the murderer, and Hawk and the woman had seen each other many times after the case was done.

“Hawk loved the sea,” Dru said suddenly without preamble. His voice echoed off the boats in the adjacent docks. “He was gonna buy a boat, actually. Had been savin’ up for years. It was seaworthy and everything. Right, Horran?”

Torin looked over to see Horran, a guard assigned to Mermaid, say, “You bet, Lieutenant. My guy wouldn’t lie about that.”

“Yeah.” Dru smiled for a moment, then grew solemn once again. “When he was a kid, he wanted to be a sailor. His grandfather’d take him out on his merchant vessel, and he’d go on about how he wanted to join his crew. But after his grandfather died, and Hawk grew up, he decided to become a guard.”

Dru looked around. Tears were welling up in his eyes.

“The shipping business’s loss was our gain. He served as a guard, then got promoted when he helped Lieutenant Linder solve a murder right here on the docks, ’cause he knew stuff about boats that Linder didn’t. Cap’n Osric kept an eye on him, and promoted him, same day he promoted me.”

Osric nodded along with Dru’s story.

“He was a great partner. I’d forget stuff sometimes, but he’d always pick me up. And he’d forget stuff, and I’d pick him up. That’s what partners
do
, y’know? I hate that he’s gone, but—” He wiped a tear away with a gloved hand. “Well, if he
had
to go, this was how he shoulda done it. See, staking out those banks wearin’ glamours was
his
idea. He wanted to stop the thieves, and he did. He did it without anybody ’cept himself gettin’ hurt. And he took one of those shitbrains down with him.”

He turned to face the sea and pulled the lid off the urn. “Hawk wanted his ashes spread over the Garamin. So that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Tilting the urn, he shook it so that the ashes—which Torin assumed were created by the furnaces at the body shop—flew out onto the sea. The wind picked up, blowing the ashes all around, some of them even toward one of the other boats.

Osric walked up to Dru and put a hand on his shoulder. Dru turned to look at him, and they nodded to each other.

After that, the gathering started to break up. Torin looked around for Danthres, and found her talking to one of the civilian women that Torin hadn’t recognized.

As he walked toward her, Hawk’s father grabbed his arm with a tight grip. “’Scuse me, but—you got yourself a brown cloak, so I’m guessin’ you worked with my son?”