The Paladin Caper

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The Paladin Caper Page 16

by Patrick Weekes


  The dragon laughed. “And I imagine your wife doesn’t mind you having more energy than before either!”

  “She sure doesn’t,” the griffon chortled.

  “Does anyone else sort of want to vomit?” Tern asked. Kail quietly raised a hand.

  “Now I expected you to be up in arms about these paladins,” the manticore said, “no pun intended! The bands cost so damn much. Isn’t making rich people into paladins giving them even more benefits over the poor?”

  “Well, I don’t think that’s fair,” the griffon said, looking a little hurt. “And they’re easier to get than you’d think! Some have been granted to government officials, and anyone who’s willing to work can eventually save up for one. Best of all, though, Archvoyant Cevirt said that at the Republic Festival of Excellence, in addition to demonstrations by paladins, ordinary citizens will have the chance to compete in fields like athletics, scholarship, magical aptitude, and artistry for a chance to win a paladin band of their very own!”

  “Byn-kodar’s hell,” Desidora muttered.

  Kail squinted. “Okay, no, it’s weird when you say it, Diz.”

  As the puppets went about their banter, Loch turned to Irrethelathlialann, who smiled grimly. “Thanks,” she said. “At least we know what they’re planning now.”

  “If you will be patient, there’s one more bit I didn’t understand.” The elf raised a finger.

  “And finally,” the dragon said, “one bit of humor to send you on your way, people.”

  “It seems that an Urujar woman down near the Imperial border has been dodging her taxes,” the manticore said.

  “See, you say an Urujar woman like it matters what race she is,” the griffon said peevishly.

  “She hasn’t paid taxes since before the war,” the manticore went on, “cheating and stealing and generally being a terrible person, and you’ll never believe what this woman did: she went into a Republic tax office to complain that her tax refund wasn’t large enough! Can you believe her?”

  The griffon laughed. “Well, that is a bad way to go about stealing the Republic’s money.”

  “Everyone say hello to Tressa duQuaille,” the dragon said, “our first Idiot Criminal of the Week!”

  A small screen, especially grainy given that Loch was watching it on a leaf, rose up behind the stage where the puppets played. For a moment it was blank, and then it lit up with a glamour that showed the face of a middle-aged Urujar woman. She had a heavy build, and her hair was pulled back tight. Her eyes were red with tears.

  “I didn’t do anything!” she said angrily. “You say whatever you like, I didn’t do anything!”

  “Well, you’re not doing anything anymore, Tressa!” the manticore said, and the griffon and the dragon laughed along with it. “Since you like taking things for free, enjoy a free flight from Ros-Oanki up to Heaven’s Spire, and then a free stay at the Cleaners!”

  “Remember, everyone,” the dragon called out, “it’s your Republic!”

  “Stay informed!” the crowd yelled back, and Irrethelathlialann folded the leaf back up.

  “So they hit the paladin bands,” Tern said, stirring her drink again, “I get that. But what was that bit at the end?”

  There was a tiny metallic clink over at the bar. Loch looked over and saw Kail holding the handle of his tankard in one hand. The tankard itself sat at the bar, half crushed.

  “That,” said Kail, “was my mother.”

  Eleven

  THE GUARD WAS a few blocks from Ros-Oanki’s secure port area, grabbing a kahva from a local shop that had pretty serving girls and a good roast. He was a young white guy with hair shaved short and eyes that seemed too wide for his bony little face.

  Kail walked up as the guard left the shop, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and shoved him against the wall. “What in Byn-kodar’s hell are you doing?”

  The guard spilled his kahva and sputtered. “Who are you?”

  “Who am I?” Kail let the guard come away from the wall a bit, then shoved him into it again. “Who am I? You desert your post in broad daylight when we have a high-security prisoner waiting for transport so that you can grab kahva, and your big concern is who am I?”

  The young man shoved Kail back. “What the hell is your problem, man? I’m on break!”

  Kail blinked, then smiled sheepishly. “Oh damn, man, I’m sorry. You’re on break? I didn’t know you were on break. You’ve still got the, uh, the thing to get back in, though, right?”

  Sensing the tide turning, the guard produced a small crystal charm from his waist. “Of course. They said not to let the entry charm out of our—”

  Kail knocked the guard’s kahva out of his hand so that it spilled on his uniform, and as the guard flinched, Kail grabbed the charm. “Whoa, look at that! Better hope I’m not a criminal, or I just stole the entry charm away from you. But it’s all right if that happens, right, because you’re on break!” As the guard sputtered again, trying to wipe his uniform and grab the charm at the same time, Kail leaned in and shoved the guard against the wall for a third time. “How would that look in your report? Bad guys stole my charm, but don’t worry, Archvoyant, it doesn’t count, I was on break at the time. Who even authorized breaks when we’re dealing with a high-security prisoner transport?”

  The young guard slapped at Kail’s hand. “What are you talking about? It’s one old lady! And who are you, anyway? I know every guard in this port, and you’re not one of us!”

  “You know every guard? Wow, that’s really impressive, buddy.” Kail leaned in until his nose almost touched the guard’s. “You even know the special ones they brought in to oversee the prisoner transfer?”

  The guard swallowed, his eyes trying to find someplace to be that wasn’t here. “Well, no, not the ogre and the other two, but—”

  “Oh, so this prisoner transfer is important enough that there are special guards you don’t know,” Kail went on through clenched teeth, still nose to nose with the guard. “People above your clearance level, you might say. People lurking out of uniform so that if something happens that might endanger this beautiful Republic, they can come in out of nowhere and kick that danger where the sun don’t shine. You want to ask me again who I am?”

  “No?” the guard squeaked.

  “You sure about that?” Kail kept his eyes level with the guard. “’Cause you look like maybe you want to ask.”

  “I don’t want to ask,” the guard said, “sir.”

  “All right.” Kail stepped back and gave the guard something closer to normal personal space. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Taking breaks. Six months we’ve been putting this together, and someone has the uniforms taking breaks. Son of a bitch. All right. We can do this.” He began to pace, twirling the crystal entry charm around his finger. “Can’t change the schedule, or it’d look suspicious, but damned if you’re walking around an unsecured civilian area with the charm just hanging out.”

  “I could hide it,” the guard tried.

  Kail gave him a long look, waited until the guard squirmed a little, and then slowly nodded. “Okay. Yeah. All right, that could work. Here’s what we’re gonna do.” He fished in a pocket and produced a small cloth pouch. “You put the charm in here, and then you put the pouch down here.” He tucked it into his pants. “You leave it in a jacket, some pickpocket lifts it, and then the wrong people get into the port, and then, soldier, we’ve got blood in the streets.” He pulled a pouch out and tossed it to the guard, adding, “Blood in the streets. We’re not having that. Not today, right?”

  “Right, sir.” The guard tucked the pouch into his pants, then swallowed again. “Not today.”

  “Damn straight.” Kail clapped him on the shoulder. “Listen, I’m sorry about that. It’s been a long six months. Not your fault someone told you to take a break, and I apologize for taking it out on you.” He passed the man a coin. “How about you go grab another kahva?”

  The guard took the coin. “Yes, sir. Not a problem, sir. We’
re all in this together.” He started to toss Kail a salute, then caught himself and tucked his hand back down, and sheepishly headed back into the kahva shop.

  Kail pulled the pouch with the actual charm in it from his pants and started walking toward the port. “We’re good,” he said quietly, pulling the charm out. “I’ve got one.”

  “That should be all we need,” Hessler’s illusionary voice said in his ear. “Meet you at the port.” It wasn’t actual magical communication, which needed message crystals. Hessler was making an illusion of his voice near Kail’s ear, and doing something Kail didn’t understand that would take anything he said and create an illusion of those words near Hessler’s ear. Apparently the spell only worked via line of sight and was crude and magically wasteful and a lot of other things that meant Hessler didn’t like it.

  Kail kept his pace at a steady amble, nothing a watcher would peg as out of the ordinary. He fastened the charm to his lapel as he walked, and in a few minutes, the port came into view.

  Kail had seen Ros-Oanki’s port once before. It had been the second time Loch had tried to sneak up to Heaven’s Spire, and they had gotten an old enemy arrested and tagged along with the guards. They’d reached the port in the hours before dawn, though, so he hadn’t had a great chance to look at the place.

  The main port was lavish, with business airships and personal transports lined up in a festive grid. Young men in pilots’ suits directed traffic with glowing sticks. Heaven’s Spire was a glittering purple gem in the sky overhead, and looking up and squinting, Kail could see airships en route to the floating city or descending back down to earth in a safe and orderly line. The ticket office was bustling with activity, and well-dressed merchants and nobles ate expensive snacks and waited for their flights in an on-site kahva house or a restaurant that Kail understood had a really overpriced wine selection.

  The secured port, by contrast, looked like the military facility it was. It was fenced off by high walls with spikes at the top, and guards stood ready with truncheons and blades at the main gate, uniforms pristine in the bright morning light. Over the fence, Kail could see the great fat balloons of the warships and troop transports, and the smaller, leaner balloons of special-purpose ships.

  There were no on-site kahva houses or restaurants, but somewhere in there was Kail’s mother.

  Kail reached the corner, and as he turned onto the road toward the gate, Dairy fell into step beside him. The kid had gotten a uniform and wore it well. Gold buttons gleamed against the dark-blue fabric, a short blade rode at his hip, and the insignia at his lapel showed an eagle carrying a burning torch in one talon and a crystal in the other.

  “You know what division that is?” Kail asked without looking over.

  “Flamecannon technician,” Dairy said. “I did serve in the military for a bit, Mister Kail.”

  “Oh, that’s right. When you joined the Knights of Gedesar and tried to kill us.”

  “Yes.” Dairy adjusted his collar slightly. “I would have stolen a scout’s uniform, but the sword was just for decoration, and the soles of the boots were all worn down from running away so often.”

  Kail laughed despite himself. “Good to see you growing up, kid.”

  “Thanks, Mister Kail.”

  “You okay with the Dragon?”

  “I love him,” Dairy said, and Kail swallowed whatever sarcastic thing he would have said back. “We’re going to find him, and we’re going to get him back.”

  “In the scouts,” Kail said, “they taught us to keep our minds clear. When you’re worried, you’re not thinking straight.”

  “If I pretend not to miss him,” Dairy said, “that’s a lie, and I’m not a very good liar. Aren’t you worried about your mother, Mister Kail?”

  “You know, kid, that’s a fair point.” Kail nodded. “How about if we just punch anyone who gets in our way?”

  Dairy nodded. “I think I can do that.”

  A pair of guards watched as Kail and Dairy approached the gate, Dairy in his crisp uniform and Kail in simple traveling leathers. Kail reached up to his lapel and lifted the charm up as he passed through the gate. The guards nodded, and Kail stepped inside.

  Dairy came through after him, without a pause. Kail turned to watch, his body language displaying a little agitation.

  Dairy crossed into the secure area. No alarm sounded.

  Internally, Kail breathed a tiny sigh of relief that Hessler’s theory about Dairy’s immunity to just about everything magical extended to security wards.

  Externally, he waited until one of the guards looked at Dairy in confusion then shouted, “Byn-kodar’s hell! The wards are compromised!”

  Both guards flinched. “What are you talking about?” one of them demanded.

  Kail reached out and grabbed Dairy’s lapel. “You see an entry charm on him, soldier?”

  “No. In fact, I was about to ask—”

  “Oh, you were about to ask, oh, all right,” Kail said, bulling right over the guard. “I mean, we installed a security ward to restrict access, but as long as you were about to ask, I’m sure we’re fine. My associate here was a test, and he just waltzed right in without an entry charm!”

  “I was going to—” the guard started.

  “I want the wards checked to see whether they’re compromised or faulty,” Kail said, “and I want them cycled back up either way. We take them down now, how long are we out?”

  “Just a few minutes, sir,” said the other guard.

  Kail glared. “All right. Get it done, and pull people from the package to the gate while the wards are cycling back up. I’m checking the package myself. I want a report in five. Where are we on illusion-wards?”

  “They’re still down, per orders, until the prisoner and escorts have left,” said the first guard, looking a little confused at the question.

  “Good!” Kail snapped. “At least one thing is going right.”

  The other guard was looking at Dairy. “I should still see his entry—”

  “Airman,” Kail cut in, “how much time to align the flamecannons for rapid short-range fire?”

  “It’s at least an hour, sir,” Dairy said promptly. “I looked yesterday, and I would have gotten it done, but they didn’t—”

  “Damn it, airman,” Kail growled, stepping in close to Dairy, “if we get blood-gargoyles swarming the airship and those flamecannons aren’t ready, I swear to Io-fergajar, I will put ‘He Would Have Gotten it Done, But—’ on your damn headstone. Am I perfectly clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dairy said, looking at the floor.

  “Go.” Kail waved, glared at everyone, and stalked off as Dairy headed in a different direction.

  A few moments later, a faint snapping hiss in Kail’s ears signified the security wards deactivating. He walked around a large warship, glaring at it thoughtfully, and in a short while, Hessler’s voice quietly said in his ear, “I made it inside. Sorry for the delay, but the guards were standing close together, and I had to shuffle to avoid bumping into any of them.”

  “Not a problem,” Kail murmured, and nodded as Dairy came his way, looking official and clean and generally military.

  “The security ward only checked the perimeter,” Hessler said, “so now that I’m in, I doubt I’ll be detected until the illusion-wards are reactivated.”

  “There aren’t any.” Kail looked at the warship and kept his voice low. “Something about the special guards they have here, the ogre and . . . what did Tern say?”

  “Scorpion-folk and troll,” Dairy said quietly.

  “Sure. Any reason why they wouldn’t want illusions turned off?”

  “Icy said that the scorpion was using an illusion to disguise itself. That could be it.” Hessler hmm’d thoughtfully. “The Dragon’s studies said that those races were created by the Glimmering Folk, who are, as far I can tell, originally from a world whose basic matter comprises the figmentary magic I use to create illusions, so—”

  “Right, don’t care.” Kail tur
ned. “Dairy, where’s my mom?”

  “The small airship over at the end. They’re getting it ready to lift off now.”

  “Crew?”

  “Five that I saw,” Dairy said. “Captain, lieutenant, gunner, and two on the rigging, plus the three special guards.”

  “Right.” Kail rolled out his shoulders. “Too many to fight straight-up. I’ll pull guards and circle, Dairy hits the ogre, Hessler creates duplicates, I get my mother out of there.”

  “That sounds significantly underthought as plans go,” Hessler said.

  “How are you going to pull the guards?” Dairy asked.

  “Guys . . .” Kail smiled. “It’ll be fine. Go.”

  They went. It was possible that something in his smile made them more worried instead of less so, but neither of them said anything.

  Kail walked up the gangplank of the great warship. A single guard was standing at the top, eyeing him warily as he approached.

  “Problem?” the guard asked. He was an Urujar man a little younger than Kail.

  “Sorry to bother you,” Kail said. “You hear about the special prisoner down there in the little runner at the end?”

  “Heard I shouldn’t ask questions about it,” the guard said dryly.

  “Speaking of questions,” Kail said as he reached the top of the gangplank, “if some asshole tried to get you by going after your mother, what would you do?”

  As the guard opened his mouth, Kail hit him. The guard stumbled but didn’t fall, and Kail hit him again, and this time the man went down.

  “Like I said, sorry to bother you.” Kail walked to the control console and keyed in commands. “Hey, flamecannon overrides, there we go. Yes, I’m sure, yes I absolutely have clearance, code still works, yay, and we’re good.”

  Whistling, he walked over to the gangplank, lifted it with a grunt of effort, and shoved the edge over the side. It scraped along the hull of the warship as it fell, and Kail heard confused cries from soldiers and guards on the ground.

  “Whoops,” he said, and walked to the nearest of the starboard flamecannons. He charged it, confirmed, aimed carefully, and fired.

 

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