by Mark Eller
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With only a little fast talking Calto succeeded in having Anithia and Missa released from the Morthanhi’s dungeons. Apparently, Ani had been immediately suspected of Simta’s murder when she was discovered in Simta’s bed after Simta did not come home. Calto then called in magicians to check the cat for enchantment. When the results showed positive, Simta’s father relented and allowed the pair to go so long as they left unseen by the side entrance and never returned, which shot down Calto’s plans for keeping them safe and under the radar someplace other than in his home. He should have known Simta would screw this up somehow.
Feeling drained and ill at ease, Calto sat in his soft leather cold and unwelcoming office chair. During the last three days he had searched for answers. For three long, horrible days he had routed out every scumbag he could find, demanding any hint of a clue they could offer. Finally, his sources came up with two suspects. One was a thief. The other was someone he would never have suspected. Because he was unwilling to face a truly unpleasant duty so soon, he decided he would speak with the thief first.
A sharp knocking on the door startled Calto out of his thoughts. The cinnamon cat sitting in his lap hissed and dove for cover beneath his desk. Standing up, Calto straightened his robes and ran fingers through his hair to make sure everything was where it belonged, wishing he could use his staff to pull this truth. Unfortunately, the staff could only be used in such a manner when his goddess directly observed.
“Enter.”
Two warrior priests, both knights of the Order of the Staff and the Sword, stepped through his door half-carrying, half-dragging, a chained, ragged older man between them. They halted directly before Calto, dumping the man in a heap at his feet.
“As you requested, Lord Sir, the thief Selnac.”
When the stench of an unwashed body rose up to meet him, Calto wrinkled his nose. He pulled a kerchief from a front pocket and covered his nostrils, involuntarily taking a step back0.
“Good gods and two, where did you find him? In a garbage pile?” The stench was so overpowering Calto’s eyes began to water.
Eyes red-rimmed and cloudy, the thief looked up from his prone position. He held up a hand, piteously reaching for Calto’s robes. “Please, Your Lord Sir, a cup of water. It’s been almost two days since I’ve eaten or drunk anything.”
Calto stiffened and growled at the peasant, daring him to complete the touch.
Slowly, the thief drew his hand back and dropped his head.
“You will not touch me. If I find you innocent, I will release you and you can find your own food. If I find you guilty, the gallows will be your destination after you receive a final meal. In either case, you will not touch me, or it will go worse for you.”
The thief sagged, looking as if he would fall flat upon the ground.
Calto’s scowl deepened. “I know you were with Simta the night she disappeared so do not tell me you do not know her. I have been informed you and she were close friends, that you had once been her mentor in crime.” Calto sneered, daring the thief to lie. “You will tell me exactly what you were doing on the night in question, and what happened to Simta.”
Releasing a low despairing groan, the ragged man lifted his head, sadness twisting his haggard features. “My Lord, I swear to you I didn’t hurt Simta. She was a bright woman, undeserving of her fate.” Selnac sat up straighter. “We went to rob the jeweler’s shop, Radno Hornblaster’s. She went into the building while I stood watch without. After that, I don’t know for sure what happened. There was a commotion inside, and then a little later the door was broken down and something small ran from the building with people and things chasing it. I had no choice but to think she was caught, and so I faded away, but later— later I put out word on the street for people to look for her. Even offered a reward if they would win her free.”
Calto narrowed his eyes. He was willing to believe Simta and this thief might have planned a robbery together, but he knew better than to believe Selnac would be so altruistic as to offer a reward for Simta’s safe return. Street scum did not behave in that way. “Why would she need to burgle a jewelry store? She had shelter. She had food and clothing and position. What more could she want?”
“She was trying to keep a woman named Ani as her lady-in-waiting. She didn’t have enough to pay her weekly wages so she needed a way to make some extra . As I understand it, Simta also wanted to move Ani out of the Downs.”
A cold feeling seeped over Calto. “Simta hired Ani and wanted to bring her into her household?” Gods, how could this have happened? How could Simta have been so stupid as to bring a guttersnipe into her own home permanently? Damn it, he hadn’t asked her to adopt the woman. He had only asked Simta to keep an eye on Ani and Missa.
The thief nodded. “She said she wanted to gain your favor so you would make her a respectable woman.”
Calto’s chest tightened. A throbbing in his head started at the front and began to work its way back. “Why? Why would she do this?”
Sighing, Selnac shook his head. “I guess she wanted to do the right thing. She cared for Ani and her daughter, was good to the both of them, and I suppose she‒she desired you or at least what you represented.”
Calto clenched his hand into a tight fist. No, no, no, no, this was not his fault. The woman was daft— insane. All she had to do was as he’d told her.
Selnac continued. “I don’t know what happened. All I know is a fire started inside the building, and then several large dogs flew out of it, chasing the small creature I mentioned. Honest, sir, I wanted to go inside and find her, but the owner was in the building still and also a woman. I couldn’t go in and look for Simta, not when there were younger people about. I’m too old for those games now. Too stiff.”
Calto’s anger built. From the reports he had read earlier this day, it was this thief’s fault Simta had learned to steal. By leading her astray, he had ruined Simta’s life.
Drawing his sword, he looked down on the terrified man. “You are correct, she did not deserve her fate, and you do not deserve to keep your head.”
A red blur suddenly shot from behind Calto and skidded to a halt in front of the thief. Back arched and hissing, the cat, Simta, stood before him, stood between him and the thief. Fur standing on end, she growled and shook her head. “Mreowwww.”
“Get out of the way, Simta. Because of him, you have besmirched the Morthanhi family name. It is my right— no, my duty to see he pays for his life of crime.”
Simta growled louder. Her eyes grew bright, and her body became haloed in a soft light. Calto’s sword began to vibrate in a way it had never done before, stinging his fingers, sending tendrils of pain up his arm.
Yelping, Calto dropped the sword. After striking the floor, the sword vibrated for a few short moments and then stilled. Hand tingling, Calto took a step back.
“Why do you defend the mangy man?” he demanded of both Simta and his goddess. “It is his fault you are a cat.”
Simta hissed and then turned toward the cowering thief. She gently pawed at the man’s hands where they covered his head in a worthless attempt at protection. Selnac looked up at the touch, gasped, and then Simta stepped closer to rub her head beneath his chin, purring.
“Holy Thom. What happened? Is this— is this— Simta?”
Calto fumed. “Yes. It is.”
Someone knocked at the door.
“What?” Calto yelled. His anger roiled about him like a heat wave.
The door swung wide. Two more knights entered into the room, dragging a struggling Dargot between them.
“I told you I would see to him when I was finished with this one.”
The knights were unfazed, taught to show only calm in the face of adversity. Havlar, a dark-haired man, stepped forward, gracefully swinging his braid from his shoulder.
“High Lord, this traitor insists he has information about the thief and the cat.” The knight looked upon Calto’s angry visage with disdain. For those kn
ights in Anothosia’s service, it was base to lose one’s control. Havlar’s expression said Calto lessened himself with this display, a silent message Calto accepted with ire.
Calto reigned in his temper, barely. The sight of Dargot made him want to behead the man where he stood. Just the night before Dargot had been arrested after being caught in Sulya’s bed. After Larson’s shade had given Calto reason for suspicion, he had ordered all his upper ranking knights to avoid her wiles.
“We already know of your traitorous ways, Dargot. After discovering you have been bedding Sulya, we searched your quarters. Do not tempt me with your presence any longer than needed or challenge me with lies because we know of your dark dealings.”
Dargot shook his head. “My life for the needed information to save the slut.”
Calto snorted. Simta hissed. “You call her a slut! Cat or not, she is still a-a— whatever!” Calto waved his still aching arm out in front of him. “Oh hell, she is still a member of the upper class of Yernden. You will watch your tone and how you address her.”
The knights looked at him as if he had lost his mind, unaware of the predicament before them. Calto wiped his face and took a deep breath. “I will be the judge of whether you live or die. Spill it or I’ll have them take you away.”
Dargot shook his head again. “No, my life for her cure.”
Calto growled.
Walking over to Calto, Simta meowed softly. Her soft green eyes were moist. Calto’s heart thawed— a bit.
He looked at Dargot, his anger simmering, but still formidable. “If what you tell me is found to be true, I will spare your life. You have my word.”
Dargot nodded. “The man who did this to Simta is Radno Hornblaster. He is a transfigurer, but the only thing he can do is change someone into a cat.” Inhaling deeply, Dargot paused.
Calto motioned him to continue, his hand straying to his dagger. “This much we already know.”
Dargot eyed the dagger nervously, swallowed, and continued. “Hornblaster is dead. However, he has family in Greenswale who might have inherited his gift or are able to understand his spells.”
Calto thought a moment. If Dargot was wrong he would personally decapitate him. “How do you know this?”
Dargot looked at the floor.
“Tell me or I will consider this an attempt to fool me.”
Dargot hesitated, lifting his head to stare at Simta. “I— it was Sulya. She reported finding Hornblaster dead, ripped apart by hellhounds.”
Calto’s body tightened. By hellhounds? How convenient. “We have suspicions you have been dealing with hellborn. We know you have been fucking Sulya. Tell me, has she also been dealing with hellkind? Have any other of our brethren been doing so?”
Dargot shook his head violently. “No, Lord, I swear no. It was only me, and I didn’t want to deal with the hellborn, but I’m older than I used to be, and I’d been having trouble pleasing women for more than two years. I had to deal with them, you see. I had to, or I couldn’t have satisfied Sulya.”
“Had to,” Calto muttered, disgusted by his under-priest’s weakness. “Had to in order to break your vows to your wife. Fine. You say you’ve given me your information.” He looked to the two knights. “Take him back to the dungeons and give him to a questioner. Before long we’ll find out the truth of this and how much he hasn’t told us.”
“No! You promised to spare my life! You gave me your word!” Swearing profusely, Dargot struggled in his chains.
Calto arched an eyebrow, staring snidely down his nose at the traitorous bastard. “And I will keep my promise if the information you gave me is found to be true. You will live, though you may no longer enjoy the experience.”
Dargot swallowed hard. “Please, have mercy on me, My Lord. Don’t send me back down there. I swear I’ve told you the truth. Please! Set me free.”
A slow, wicked smile crawled across Calto’s face. “You only asked for your life, not your freedom.”
Dargot’s expression twisted into a mask of horror. “No–no–you promised.”
“I despise traitors even more than I hate not being obeyed. You will be my whipping boy for the rest of the ranks— for a very long time. Take him away.”
It took both knights to subdue the desperate man. Dargot screamed and cried as he was carried from the room. Once he was gone, Calto turned his attention back to the thief. Simta still hovered near him protectively.
Calto scowled. He felt loath to do it, but he would allow the thief to go free.
“Get up, peasant. Get out of my sight and never let me see you again.”
Shaky and unsure, Selnac stood. Obviously unbalanced on cramped legs and still in chains, he tottered slightly to one side and then the other.
Simta brushed up against him, still glowing. At her touch the thief seemed to grow stronger; color returned to his face. His eyes became clear, and the chains fell away. Calto sucked in a harsh breath as Simta’s nimbus transferred to the thief.
Selnac smiled, his face lit with peace. Reaching down, he picked Simta up. “Thank you, friend. I’m so sorry this happened to you, but I’ll do all I can to find a way to help.”
Simta’s purr was loud, appreciative. She rubbed her head beneath Selnac’s chin.
“Go on. Leave.” Calto said, disgusted to see Simta treat the thief with such reverence. The man was a nothing, an eyesore to his goddess. Even Flinstar would have rejected the thief’s worship, but then Flinstar was probably gone, maybe dead, but certainly disappeared. It had been a very long time since that stand-offish god had spoken to one of his priests or acolytes, much longer than Calto’s lifetime or even his father’s.
Selnac hugged Simta one last time, then left, walking tall, proud, but with a decided limp.
When everyone else was gone Calto glared down at Simta who suddenly became very frisky and playful. She jumped back and forth on the floor, swatting at Calto’s sword. He bent down to retrieve it, hesitating a moment before picking it up. For the first time ever, he was not sure what its touch would bring. Once it was in his hand, he turned the blade before him, studying its design. What had happened to make it vibrate earlier? Why had it hurt him, refused to be held? Worried, he placed it back in its sheath and collapsed upon his settee. Simta instantly jumped upon his chest, laid down, and purred loudly.
“Now what do you want?” Calto demanded. He thought about shoving her off. After all, his anger still buzzed in his head, but her purr was soothing. For the moment, he could not. Instead, he relaxed back against the small sofa, his eyes closing on their own. The purring seeped into his weary mind, settled in his brain, and drained away his anger. Simta stretched out on his chest, snuggled closer to his chin, and soon both fell into a dreamless slumber.