“Listen, I’m not an idiot, alright? I know you’ve been up to no good lately, but at the same time, you’ve been generous. But killing an innocent man over an orphanage? I…I have no idea how to respond to that.”
Samuel crossed his arms. “He wasn’t innocent.”
“Please,” Sali said. “The guy was a rich asshole, but then again, what rich guy in the MD isn’t? You know, it’s one thing to sell stolen or illegal stuff. You’re just trying to make a living, I get that. But murder? Samuel, that’s not you. That’s not the man I’ve come to know.”
“Who said I had anything to do with his death?” Samuel said.
“I’m not stupid,” Sali replied. “I’ve seen the way you look. The way you talk. You’re different. A little colder. And it all started the day that we heard about Patrick being killed in a supposed robbery. The same day, by the way, that you found the orphanage was being blocked by his goons.”
“What do you want from me?” Samuel asked. “Huh? What’s the whole point of bringing this up? These kids are a lot better off because of what I’ve done.”
“And what about you, Samuel? Are you better off?” she shouted. She took a few steps forward, prompting him to step back. He had never seen her this angry.
“I was just trying to help…” he mumbled, sheepishly looking away from her.
“You help by using that money to buy them a good lawyer, to sue the guy for breaking some laws or maybe for helping them find somewhere else to put the building. You don’t help by killing someone. For goodness sake, you were in my pub, drowning yourself in alcohol because you hated what happened to those thugs who kidnapped me. Now? Now you’re trying to justify even worse behavior to me?” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. I really don’t. But I can tell you this much, I don’t want to see you again. Don’t darken my door, don’t come into my establishments, understood?”
“But Sali, I – “
“You what? What can you possibly say that would get me to be on board with your actions? Look, you want to sell magic crap? Be my guest, because who gives a damn about the Magistrate? But killing some rich guy because it’s easier than going through the legal channels? That’s something I could never get behind,” she said. Tears were forming in her eyes. “So, we’re done. Friendship over. Because you aren’t the same man, I knew a month ago. And that terrifies me.”
With that, she turned and walked off, towards her bar. Samuel wanted to call out to her, to tell her that he was different from what she thought, but he knew that would be a lie. He had made a choice, that evening, as he held Patrick’s life in his hands. And he chose to be the kind of man who did whatever it took to get his way. For the first time, guilt began to rise up within his stomach. He didn’t know what to do with those feelings. Normally he’d just drink them away, but now his favorite bar was closed to him for good.
A hand clapped him on the back, startling him. It was Cimir, standing out in broad daylight, smiling widely.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he said. He coughed a little and slapped Samuel on the back again. “We won.”
“I heard about all the bodies. Town criers are saying it was some kind of illness,” Samuel replied. He pushed the thoughts of Sali and her shock at his actions far away. At least, for now.
“Well, it wasn’t a plague, I can tell you that much,” Cimir said. He seemed to be in high spirits but was more pale than usual. He kept coughing as well.
“Are you sick?” Samuel asked, taking a half-step away. The last thing he needed was to catch some hideous magic related disease from the man.
“I may have uh, done some damage to myself with that spell,” Cimir replied. He took out a handkerchief and coughed into it. Samuel could see some red on the kerchief.
“Are you dying?”
“Not as far as I can tell,” Cimir said. “But I can’t do something like that again, not without serious risk of death.”
“But we’re not going to tell anyone else that, right?” Samuel said.
Cimir laughed. “Of course not.”
“So, I take it that you weren’t looking for me, so we could have a celebratory drink?” Samuel asked.
“We need to settle the matter of Elias,” Cimir said. “In my ponderings and musings, I’ve decided not to end his life for his actions.”
Samuel felt a chill run down his spine at those words. “Oh, how decent of you.”
“But he can’t keep running the organization on his own,” Cimir continued. “I had no interest in the business end. I’m here to ask you to come back. Please.”
Samuel opened his mouth to say no, to claim that he would never again make such callous and cold decisions, but flashes of Patrick’s dead body came to mind. He had lost his claim to innocence just as much as Cimir had. He glanced back at the orphanage, still glistening in the sun. There was quite a bit of good he could do in the city. Doubly so if he had a voice at the table again.
“Alright, fine,” Samuel said. “I’m coming back. But let’s get one thing straight. I want to keep the violence to a minimum. Only when it’s necessary or for self-defense.”
Cimir nodded at that, he began to hack and wheeze, doubling over for a moment. Samuel reached down to help him back up. “Yeah, that’s fine,” Cimir said. “Only when it’s necessary. For all our sakes.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll need to inform him,” Samuel said. “I doubt he’ll be happy. I kinda got the impression he liked being the boss.”
“He’s lucky enough to be keeping his life, let alone any position with us,” Cimir wheezed. It would have been a lot more intimidating if the boy could breathe right. “But I do have one other consideration to bring up. Captain Markov. I want him to have a vote as well.”
“The guy who runs the city watch?” Samuel asked. He didn’t know the man very well, but knew he was a serious man who had little patience for Samuel’s wisecracks. “Isn’t he just hired muscle?”
“My instincts tell me that he’d be good to have as an equal, rather than someone working for Elias,” Cimir replied. “He’s a sharp man and I respect him.”
“You respect him?” Samuel repeated in surprise. It was rare for Cimir to have respect for just about any human.
“I do,” Cimir said. “So, will you agree to my consideration?”
Samuel shrugged. “Sure. It’d be useful to have someone with military experience calling the shots, not just taking orders.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Cimir said. He stumbled a little, prompting Samuel to catch him and hold him up.
“Seriously, are you okay?” Samuel asked.
“No,” Cimir said. “But I’m functional. It’ll be a matter of time to see whether I’m actually dying or not. But there are remedies for such a thing. I just need to find some ingredients.”
Samuel grimaced at those words. “Well, whatever you need, I’ll help you find it,” he said.
“We’ll need to hire a party, adventurers, perhaps, to travel out and collect them,” Cimir wheezed. “But for now, I can sustain myself with Cimirite. Come, we’ve much to discuss.”
And so, the two, finally reunited, made their way back to their headquarters, with Cimir sharing much about what had happened in Samuel’s absence from the inner circle.
Elias was backed into a corner, metaphorically speaking. A visit from Cimir and Samuel had been most welcome – at first. Two hours later, he found himself alone, in his office, pondering his options. The offer presented by the pair had been simple. Elias would be stripped of his executive power and relegated back to his former position, handling the behind the scenes part of the operation, but no longer being the sole leader.
At first, he had thought it was a grievous insult, until Cimir explained that the alternative to this arrangement would have been much, much worse. The sorcerer was vengeful and had seen Elias’ actions as cruel and cowardly. Only the words of Markov had been able to dissuade him from taking his violent revenge against Elias. Cimir had shared such information openl
y.
Now Elias had a choice. He could continue his work in the operation, albeit with significantly less authority and the enmity of a strange sorcerer, or he could take what he’s earned and get the hell out of Glimmer. With the brutal eradication of the entire Thieves Guild, leaving the city would be as simple as hiring an escort, loading up a wagon with gold and then leaving through the gates.
Elias shifted, glancing over at his map on the wall. Sixty districts, all marked with plans, notes and flags, meant to form a cohesive business strategy. And now, his plans were being threatened by the other members of the outfit. True, Elias had made some foolish decisions. He should have left Fredlin alone, but instead sought to maximize profits. All of Cimir’s ire had been provoked because of that single order he had issued to Markov. “Bring me whoever is making these potions,” Elias had said to the captain, sitting high in his chair. That started a series of chain reactions that led him to this point.
Still…there was much left to do. Glimmer needed healing crystals and Elias’ heart was still with keeping the city safe. But was the only option to work at the behest of a madman like Cimir? The sorcerer was crazy enough to kill the entire thieves guild with a single spell. How could he possibly work with a man like that? What if, one day, Cimir grew angry over some slight, either real or imagined? Elias would have no way of defending himself against the man.
And so, Elias pondered. He had given his life to protecting Glimmer. But if he kept working with Cimir, he very well might end up dying. There had to be some other way.
As he sat in thought, the door to his office opened and the Serpentine ambassador, Krissaw, slithered in. “Forgive me,” he said, upon noticing Elias. “But I could not help but sense your distress.”
“Please, come in,” Elias said, sitting up and gesturing towards a bottle of brandy. The snake man seemed to have quite a taste for alcohol. He had drunk nearly two gallons since his arrival.
“You are most kind,” Krissaw said. He made his way to the alcohol and began to drink. As Elias watched the snake man consume the entire bottle of brandy in a matter of seconds, an idea came to mind.
“Say, you have wizards in your homeland, right?” Elias asked.
Krissaw shook his head, causing his hood to flap a little. “No, wizardry is a weak magic, the few who practice magic utilize sorcery. For it is the superior magic.”
Elias leaned forward at that. “And do you know any sorcerers?”
“I have a cousin who took up the practice long ago,” Krissaw said. “Assuming she is still alive, of course. Magic is dangerous. The wisest sorcerer is the one who refuses to learn such an art, as the saying goes.”
This was exactly what Elias wanted to hear. “I apologize, my friend, that we’ve delayed getting you an audience with the Magistrate,” he said. “But our crisis is over. And I promise to fully devote my attention to the needs of you and your Queen.”
Krissaw chuckled a little. “And I suppose if you should gain us access to the city, you would want me to bring my dear cousin here?”
Elias merely smiled at that. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, Krissaw. There’s quite a bit of work to be done.”
Lady Mira staggered home, feet aching. While she was often on her feet on the hospital, the ground was soft and smooth there. The city streets were rough and course, her shoes were no match for such surfaces. She spent most of her days walking back and forth between three districts, ensuring that her little business was growing. Shops were being established, customers were being solicited and crystals were selling left and right. All in all, things were beginning to look up for her operation.
She opened the door to her house, grateful to see the small bed that would allow her weary body to rest. Mira entered, kicked her useless shoes off and made her way to the bed.
“Good evening,” a voice said from behind. She yelped and turned around, falling backwards onto the bed. It was Captain Markov, standing in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall. He was fully armored and didn’t look particularly happy.
“C-captain,” she said. Her heart began to pound. She had assigned no guards to her own domicile, after all, those men would be better used to protect others. Now, she was beginning to regret that decision.
“I’ve received reports of you employing mercenaries,” Markov said. “Members of the Sworn Blades, to escort your people, watch over your fronts and keep an eye on your shipments.”
“There’s nothing wrong with hiring extra security,” she said as she tried to regain her composure. Truth be told, there was nothing she could do to defend herself. Part of her oath involved never inflicting harm on another human. She didn’t stand much of a chance even if she had never sworn such an oath. “After all, two of my people were brutally murdered.”
“You were told that the watch would look after your people,” Markov replied. “And you were given explicit instructions to only employ them as security.”
“And they did a shit job,” Mira retorted. “So, I hired some competent men.”
Markov scowled at that. His fierce gaze was penetrating, but Mira refused to avert her eyes from his. She merely returned the stare, as defiant as possible.
“I know the truth, Captain,” Mira said. “I know that for some reason, you had Freckles and Charles killed. Was it because my letters said they weren’t performing well? Or maybe they had stolen something? I don’t know. But I know that you were responsible.”
Markov seemed to relax at those words, he uncrossed his arms and leaned back. The frown vanished. “I’m afraid that’s not the case, ma’am. Not in the least.”
“Then what is the truth?” Mira asked. “Because I know they weren’t simply mugged.”
And so, Markov, slowly and without emotion, shared the entire story of the last month’s events. The details were horrific, to say the least. Most troubling was the fact that the man responsible for the creation of Cimirite stood at the center, bringing about death and destruction to those who dared to bring harm to the organization.
Mira could scarce believe her ears. She knew that there would be violence, but a massacre of such a degree? And perpetrated by her own side? That was too much.
“Why? Why would you tell me all of this?” Mira asked. “You know I could never work for such people with…with this knowledge.”
Markov shrugged. “I can see a rebellion coming a mile away. You hiring extra security who we can’t control is the first sign. My job, among other things, is to ensure this city stays relatively safe from wars. So, I’m putting an end to it now.”
Mira glanced at the weapon at his side. “You mean to kill me then?”
“What?” Markov asked, flaring his nostrils a little. “Madam, are you out of your mind? I don’t know what your impression of me is, but I am not a murderer of any sorts. I am a man of justice.”
“Where is the justice for Freckles and Charles then?”
“Meted out with extreme prejudice,” Markov said. “I tell you this so that you can leave your post and move on with your life. Return to the hospital. I’m well aware of the deal made with Francis, but don’t worry, healing crystals will continue coming to Saint Jarick’s, I’ll see to that.”
Mira frowned. “And if I refuse?”
“I didn’t expect that you would, to be honest. But I suppose it would be business as usual, sans your little private army.”
“Twenty men are hardly a private army,” Mira replied. “But I see no reason why I should listen to you about such matters. My people are my own to watch over. Their protection is paramount.”
“Do what you will then,” Markov said. “But just know that my eyes and ears are everywhere in this city. If you hire more mercenaries, I will doubt your intentions are just defensive.”
“Understood,” Mira said. “And if more of my people die under your watch, I will have no doubts of your intentions as well.”
Markov laughed at that. “Very well, that is only fair. Have a good night, Lady Mira.” He to
ok a few steps towards the door then turned to look back at her. “I’m curious as to why you stay.”
“If I leave, you’ll only replace me with someone else,” Mira said. “And they may be far more ruthless than myself. Perhaps my presence is the only thing that will guarantee the Triangle won’t run red with blood.”
“Let us pray that is the case,” Markov said.
And as the captain left, Mira was quick to drop to her knees and begin such prayers, asking for Saint Jarick to watch over her in the future. She now knew the kind of men she was working with. They were cutthroats who would do whatever it took to defend their own property and wealth. The future, she knew was dangerous, but she had taken an oath to serve the hospital. And as long as the Cimirite kept healing the dying and the broken, she would serve. Her biggest prayer was that she would never have to make a decision like Cimir had. But in her heart of hearts, she knew that someday she would.
Theft, Murder, and Crystals Page 38