“No, but I can sit in this boat while you row it out.” Lornysh lowered the tip of his sword to the ground and leaned on it like a cane.
Jev was surprised he would treat the weapon so but supposed a magical blade wouldn’t be scratched or dulled by a few rocks.
“We could dump the black powder in the water and make her day worse,” Lornysh added.
Jev rubbed the back of his neck. He found the idea of taking the boat questionable—it was theft, after all—but reasoned he could leave it tied up when they reached the Jade River. Her people would find it. He could even argue that she must have known he would take the boat when she’d left him here with it. But the explosives… If they destroyed them, she would doubtless see it as a hostile sign and consider him an enemy after that. Even if her information hadn’t been that useful, other than confirming that she neither had the dwarves nor had the tools anymore, he thought he could, as things stood now, come to her again to trade information. That might be useful in the future.
Of course, all this assumed he could believe what she’d told him today. Could he?
“Does your brain hurt when you spend that much time thinking?” Lornysh asked into his long silence.
“It does today.” Jev grabbed one of the kegs and set it on dry land instead of chucking it into the water. “Settle yourself in while I unload these. I’ll row us out.”
“You’re sure you shouldn’t destroy them? What if she’s planning a crime against the crown? Something that harms people in your city?”
“Then I’ll have regrets that I made this choice, no doubt. But I can’t condemn her before she commits a crime. With luck, she’s going to blow up the Night Travelers’ headquarters.”
“Unlikely, since she prepared this boat before she knew about the spies.”
“Just… let it go, Lornysh,” Jev said as he continued to unload kegs. “She could be a valuable informant in the future.”
Lornysh grunted but didn’t object further. As Jev pushed the boat into the water, leaving the full kegs of powder behind them, he hoped he wasn’t making a big mistake.
9
Jev helped Lornysh to the elven embassy—he refused to be taken to a hospital, claiming he could find a healer inside the tower—before heading out of the city and up the hill to the castle. Bright sun blazed down on his shoulders, helping to dry his clothing, but it did little to keep him from yawning. Unfortunately, after his night’s adventure, he didn’t have any more of a clue where to find Cutter and Grindmor than before. All he knew was that Iridium, if her word could be believed, hadn’t taken them.
He was inclined to believe her, less because of her word and more because he couldn’t imagine why she would have orchestrated the kidnapping. Before, when Iridium had been coercing Grindmor into doing favors for her, her motives had made sense. But unless she thought she could sell the grumpy dwarf master to someone, he couldn’t see why she would have done this.
The gate guards waved Jev in without commenting on his bedraggled appearance. He thought about the mounds of files suffocating his desk and almost detoured to his room to wash, change clothing, and sleep for ten hours, but Garlok’s words from the day before made him feel he should at least check in before tending to personal needs. He probably shouldn’t take time to tend to them at all. There might be something to what the undeniably experienced Garlok had said, that Jev should remain in the office, going over reports from agents and informants, rather than traipsing around the city himself. He hated to admit it though. Mostly because it sounded boring. He dreaded the hours he would have to spend to sort through those files.
Fortunately, when Jev entered the office, Garlok wasn’t among the agents at their desks. Several men offered polite greetings of, “Good morning, Zyndar Dharrow,” to him. He voiced appropriate responses on the way through, but his attention quickly focused on the back of the room.
Perplexingly, his desk was empty of all the folders from the previous day. A single folder to one side was all that remained, no more than a few papers inside it. Dare he hope that someone had stolen the others? That would be a shame.
Zenia sat at her desk, clad in the same clothing from the day before. Her folders were gone, too, though they had been replaced by books and far too many newspapers to represent the day’s offerings. She was bent over them intently, circling things.
“Zenia?” Jev came to stand beside her and peer down at her work after giving his clean desk another puzzled glance. “Have you been here all night? Because if you had planned to stay up all night, you should have come with me, so we could have stayed up all night together.”
That had sounded more amusing in his head. He was tired. He caught Agents Torson and Brokko looking his way and decided to lower his voice. And not do anything that might be mistaken for flirting.
“Aside from a brief meeting with the king, yes,” Zenia said.
Targyon had called her up to his office? Had he been looking for Jev too?
Zenia circled something else without looking up. Maybe he should leave her to her research. He assumed it was related to Grindmor in some way. He looked at his desk again.
“Did you notice a folder thief come in and steal everything out of my area?” he asked.
“I consolidated the reports and filed them for you.”
“You… did my paperwork for me? All of it? And it’s in there?” He pointed to the single folder.
“The maintenance reports went to Khomas—they should have gone there in the first place. The foreign agents’ reports had a lot of repetition. You’ll find all the pertinent information in that folder. I assure you I was thorough.”
She looked up at him earnestly, and Jev realized she might have thought he doubted her thoroughness. No, he was busy being shocked she’d done all his odious work for him. In one night. He was positive it would have taken him a week to wade through that.
“Zenia.” Jev reached down and took her hands. Though a puzzled furrow creased her brow, she allowed him to lift her to her feet. He promptly enveloped her in a hug. “I can’t believe you organized everything for me. You’re wonderful.”
“I—oh.” She sounded startled, and it took her a moment to react and return the hug.
Maybe he shouldn’t hug her in front of all the other agents, but they ought to understand how delighted he was. They all had hoards of paperwork of their own to deal with.
“Thank you.” Jev forced himself to step back, especially since he’d already noticed her lovely curves pressed against him and the faint scent of her shampoo.
Someone giggled. It was not a manly giggle.
Zenia blushed. “You’re welcome.”
When Jev checked, he found most of the agents looking their way, some smirking, some rolling their eyes. Both groups straightened their faces as soon as he looked at them.
“She did my paperwork,” Jev said to explain the hug, though he shouldn’t have to explain himself to any of them.
“If I hugged her, would she do mine?” Brokko muttered.
Jev, having noticed the man’s tendency to glance at Zenia’s chest, said, “She’d be more likely to do your paperwork if you didn’t hug her.”
That elicited a few more snickers. Brokko glared around at the offenders.
Jev waved at all of them, a gesture he hoped implied they should get back to work.
“Can I help you with anything, Zenia?” Jev decided offering her a foot rub or a massage wouldn’t be appropriate with the agents looking on. Sadly, it probably wouldn’t be appropriate even in private.
“Uhm.” She considered her newspapers. “I’m brainstorming.”
“Would my brain be helpful? Wait, don’t answer that. If the answer is negative, it’ll crush my ego.”
“Somehow, I doubt your ego is so fragile.” Her eyes twinkled a bit as she waved for him to drag over his chair, but she mostly looked tired. He wondered, were he to use his zyndar status and attempt to command her to go to bed, if she would go. He doubted it.
> “The king has me making a list of people who would stand to gain from an upheaval in the city, possibly caused by an invasion or other hostile actions from our enemies.”
Jev thought of his meeting with Targyon. He hadn’t realized trouble might be so imminent. “Did he suggest it or did you?”
“I don’t remember, but I brought up my musings to him, things inspired by your reports.” She waved toward the now-empty desk.
“Is that somehow related to Grindmor being missing?”
“I don’t know, but…” Zenia tapped a finger on the topmost newspaper on her stack. She’d circled an article about the number of wealthy, non-zyndar individuals attending the symphony going up. “I have a hunch that everything is tied together.”
“I understand about hunches.” Jev often relied upon them.
“I think it’s coming from the fact that Grindmor’s disappearance coincides with the launch of that ship full of dwarves the king invited to settle in the city. I got the estimated date of their arrival and calculated how long the journey from their homeland should take, and determined the kidnapping had to have happened at the same time as they left their homeland.” Zenia pulled a list of names out from under the newspaper. “I don’t have any evidence linking these people to any crimes. I’m just making a list of prominent subjects who have been mentioned in the newspapers over the last few years. Some of them I’m aware of, as they’ve financed the building of new structures in the city and occasionally donated large sums of money to the temples. They get plaques and a lot of publicity when they do that, so I wouldn’t assume they’re simply good-hearted and altruistic. Some make deals with the archmages, as well, for leniency or favor from the founders.”
Jev looked over the list. There were eight names on it so far. He only recognized one of them, an explorer, cartographer, and philanthropist who’d reputedly made his money finding diamond mines in unclaimed parts of the world. He had to be eighty years old. He’d been legendary for his exploits even when Jev had been a boy.
“It wouldn’t take more than a day or two to go talk to these people with the help of your dragon tear,” Jev said, though he didn’t feel that optimistic about such chats resulting in anything. He understood hunches, but this seemed a roundabout way to find Grindmor’s kidnapper since no motives had yet been identified. Admittedly, they had little else to go on.
“I’m still collecting names. There may be more.”
“Why is it you believe the wealthy would be the ones who would gain from upheaval?”
“They have the resources to act if an opportunity presents itself.”
“None of your names are zyndar,” Jev observed, still working to understand her thinking. “If you add wealthy zyndar, your list would grow exponentially.”
“I know, but your people are already rewarded significantly by the status quo. I would expect them not to want to rock the boat.”
“Possibly, but a lot of zyndar families want more and better lands closer to the major cities. If the current system were disrupted by a war or the king were overthrown, they would have the men to raise armies and invade neighbors. Well—” Jev scraped his fingers through his beard, “—perhaps not. Almost all zyndar families were tasked with forming a company to add to the king’s army for the war. A lot of those men didn’t come back, as I well know.” Fewer than a hundred of the two hundred and fifty men Jev had recruited from Dharrow lands had made it back, something that he felt guilt over, even if he’d been transferred to Gryphon Company years ago and his uncle had taken over leadership of the company.
“Land,” Zenia murmured, her eyes growing thoughtful. “Land?”
“Yes, it’s the stuff we stand on. If you need a better definition, I can get a dictionary. Or maybe Targyon will come down and provide one. He’s like a dictionary, but his answers tend to go more in depth. I guess that makes him like an encyclopedia.”
Zenia didn’t seem to be paying attention to his blather. Her eyes were focused—actually, they were unfocused—past his shoulder. “Until recently, only zyndar families have been able to own land.”
“Yes.” Jev still had no idea where she was going, but he tried to be helpful. “Long ago, the kings of old cut up the kingdom and gave large swaths of land to warriors who proved themselves by great deeds. They became the first zyndar. Of course, the land wasn’t given free and clear. The zyndar were expected to put it to use and create income so taxes could be collected for the king’s coffers. They took on tenant farmers and craftsmen to help toward that end, offering protection in exchange for those people giving a portion of their earnings to the zyndar who could then send it along to the king. Eventually, there wasn’t any land left for the king to give, though for a couple of centuries, we expanded eastward and southward to claim more, so he could reward more men, but it’s been a while since anyone new was made zyndar. It grew dangerous to attempt to expand further, and the borders have remained unchanged for the last two hundred years.”
That probably hadn’t been that helpful. Zenia was nodding impatiently, like she’d already known all that.
“Right,” she said, “and there’s little chance for a common man or woman, no matter how wealthy they become through industry or trade, to acquire land of their own. Not everybody wants to be some tenant to a zyndar. Commoners dream of having the ultimate freedom and stability of land of their own.”
Jev thought about pointing out that being zyndar didn’t involve much freedom, at least not for the heir to a prime. It was a big responsibility to have so many tenants and so many obligations to everyone. But he sensed Zenia was going another route and wasn’t worried about the details.
“Technically, commoners can buy land now,” Jev pointed out. “Abdor's daddy, King Ebonon signed that law into existence. Under pressure from the Orders, if I remember my history lessons.”
“Orders bribed by the new commoner wealth, yes. But there’s been a problem. There just hasn’t been that much land for sale. Zyndar families—and their holdings—never go anywhere. Your families are so old at this point that there’s always an heir somewhere, even if the zyndar prime’s children all die to disease or war.”
Jev thought of his dead brother and grimaced. “Yes. If I died, my father would name one of his brothers or nephews.”
“If there was an invasion, Korvann could be a place where battles were fought,” Zenia said. “We’ve got the harbor, and as the home of the king, it’s considered the most important city in the kingdom.”
“Possibly. If I were leading an army, I’d go ashore somewhere less populated rather than making a direct assault, but I won’t deny that fighting would likely come to the city eventually. I—” Jev lurched to his feet, a realization smacking him like a wet towel.
“What?”
“I just realized the elven ambassador must know something about this. Maybe more than we do. He warned Lornysh to get out of the city and told him he was thinking of leaving too.” For the first time, fear blossomed in Jev’s chest. Real fear. Earlier, talk of enemies taking advantage had been academic, something that might happen eventually if Kor didn’t solidify some alliances. But was it possible this threat loomed far closer than he’d realized? By the founders, the last thing he wanted was to fight another war. And one on home soil that threatened his family and the Dharrow tenants? He groaned.
Zenia was watching his face. “Maybe we should talk to him again.”
“Again? We didn’t succeed in talking to him the first time. And he’s not going to want to see us now. I— Wait.” Another idea smacked him. “I wonder if that would work.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh.
“Are you going to tell me or keep me in suspense?”
“I don’t know. So far, you’ve only been teasing me with what’s in your mind.”
“I’ve been thinking out loud, not teasing you. I was about to suggest that wealthy commoners might finally get their chance to acquire valuable land along the coast, maybe right here in the city, if a war starte
d. Your people would hunker down in their castles or lead armies across the countryside. The city might be damaged. Or if there was fighting, buildings destroyed. If zyndar castles or other buildings were damaged, they might be willing to sell some of their land in order to pay for rebuilding. Land that’s never been available to buy could suddenly be for sale cheap.”
“Assuming people wanted to buy land in a war zone.”
“A war wouldn’t last forever. Presumably, we would fight off invaders eventually. Unless we were conquered, and then our conquerors would own all the land.” Zenia frowned.
“Your would-be land buyer would be taking quite a gamble that all this would turn out in his favor.”
“True, but I believe I’ll go down to the property office and see if I can dig up anything interesting. Maybe someone has made purchase offers lately and had them turned down. If so, the clerk might remember that.”
“All right. You do that. I’m going to ask Targyon if I can make a most generous offer to supply dirt, plants, and workers to help the elven ambassador reconstruct the extensive gardens that my helpers so thoughtlessly burned down the night we were after Yilnesh.”
“Dirt? A ruse to get close to him and ask questions?”
“Exactly, though not entirely a ruse. I was responsible for that and do feel guilty. Maybe I’ll leave out the king and make the offer myself. Either way, it should provide an opportunity to speak with him. If I offer an apology, maybe he won’t shoo me away.”
“Or set his guard creature on you? It’s still alive, isn’t it?”
“They. I think there were two. And yes, still alive.”
“Maybe I should go with you. Even if he agrees to talk to you, he may lie, and you wouldn’t be able to detect it without a dragon tear.”
“You don’t think I can tell when an uppity elf is lying to me? I’ve been friends with Lornysh for years, you know.”
“Does he lie regularly to you?”
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