“You can’t, and you know it. That’s why you’re here. You need some time away, to clear your head and to mourn.”
“What would you know about it?” said Munroe.
“Nothing,” said Tammy, refusing to make eye contact. “We’ll bring them to justice and destroy her network.”
Munroe laughed bitterly. “You do that. Seek out your vaunted justice, but I suggest you do one thing for me.”
“What’s that?” asked Tammy.
“Stay out of my way. I don’t care about her network. I just want Akosh. And when I find her, I won’t stop until she’s dead.”
Munroe didn’t want to hurt Tammy, but she would if it was necessary. Part of her expected a lecture or sermon about the price of revenge, but Tammy offered neither. Perhaps she knew a thing or two about it after all.
As she walked away from the building Munroe grudgingly admitted that Tammy had been right about one thing. She already knew she couldn’t do this alone. If those working within the confines of the law couldn’t help then perhaps it was time to cross over to the other side of the street.
CHAPTER 10
Bettina, clerk and agent for Regent Choilan, left her meeting with an expression that bordered on a smile. As she passed one of the many expensive mirrors in the palace she paused and made sure no one was around before looking at her reflection.
The high-necked grey dress was long on the arms and it trailed on the floor covering up as much exposed flesh as possible. She pulled up the collar to make sure it concealed the marks on her neck before continuing to her office at a brusque pace.
The reason for her near-smile was that the inevitable had finally happened. The blubbery Minister of Trade, who had been so close to having his neck on the chopping block, had died. The method didn’t really matter to her, the headsman or in this case in bed with his mistress, only the facts. He was gone and his widow, Daria, had been appointed to the position in his place, something that the Regent had been considering for a while. The mistress would vanish and everything would go back to normal. Order would resume, just as she liked it. Everything neat and tidy.
The Minister had been erratic, driven by passions and was someone who could change his mind overnight. Bettina would order scribes to produce a document only to be told days later by the Minister that it wasn’t needed any more. She didn’t care personally about the scribes, but she hated the time and money that had been wasted producing something that later wasn’t needed. Daria was much more stable, described by some people as cold and aloof, but Bettina recognised something familiar in the other woman. Order. Structure. Stability.
That almost-smile tugged at the corners of her mouth until she reached her office door and saw that it was slightly ajar. With a snarl she burst through the door. She was ready to berate whoever had the impertinence to barge in without invitation until she saw the room’s occupant. Her usual icy mask returned and she made a low and deep bow, as was fitting for the Regent’s first wife.
Despite being fairly tall herself, Selina towered over her. Few people made her feel small and vulnerable. Part of her favourite pastime was doing that to others, but for some reason Selina intimidated her. Her dealings with the Regent’s other wives were far less uncomfortable. Bettina often had trouble getting a word in while they babbled on about nothing of value. Not so with Selina. Silence was her favourite weapon.
“My Lady, how may I be of service?” she asked.
Selina moved from where she’d been standing at the window to take a seat in front of the desk. Bettina waited until she’d sat down before sinking into her chair. Even with the desk between them, and in the familiar surroundings of her own office, the other woman’s stillness bothered her. Perhaps it was her frown. Bettina liked a good scowl but Selina’s seemed to be carved from granite. Even when she spoke her eyebrows barely lifted.
“Do you have an update on the agents I requested?” she asked.
The Regent had asked Bettina to investigate the eight missing agents and so far her contacts had found seven. All murdered. They had been killed in a variety of mundane ways, and Bettina believed the eighth would be discovered in a similar state. In fact she would insist that the last body was found. She couldn’t stand loose ends. One of the Regent’s agents was looking into who was responsible for the murders, but so far there were no suspects. Right now the why was unimportant. The agents needed to be replaced.
Bettina had supplied Selina with a list of potential replacements and a few days ago she’d chosen eight from the list.
“I’ve had responses from seven of the eight names you requested, my Lady. I’m just waiting on the last. I believe he’s called Doggett.” All the names were fake, of course. It came with the job of going unnoticed. “I’m confident I’ll hear from him soon.”
“I hope you do,” said Selina.
Bettina couldn’t interpret her meaning as her expression and tone of voice gave nothing away. She didn’t know if it was a threat and promise that something unpleasant would happen to her if she didn’t hear back from Doggett, or if Selina genuinely wanted a response. Instead of replying she said nothing.
After a while the silence in the room rang in her ears and she couldn’t help fidgeting in her chair.
“You’re obviously busy,” said Selina, gesturing at the neat stack of notebooks laid out in a precise grid on the desk. Each was exactly equidistant from the other and only those of the same colour were touching one another. “I await your response.”
“My Lady,” said Bettina, standing up and bowing again as the first wife left her office. She carefully closed the door and resumed her seat, resting her forehead on the cool surface of her desk. It helped to calm the buzzing of her thoughts and bring them under control again. A dull ache was forming behind her right eye which she hoped wouldn’t develop. She desperately needed to vent her frustration at such an invasion of privacy. The imbalance it caused inside ate away at her. Those she subjugated tonight would receive additional lashes until she was at peace.
There was a brief knock on the door and she barely had time to compose herself before an unremarkable man entered without invitation. Bettina dug her nails into her right thigh until the pain made her discomfort begin to ease.
“Who are you?” she asked in a calm voice, making a note of the man’s plain, worn clothing. He didn’t look familiar and everything about him, from his clothes to his features, was ordinary and easily forgettable. Bettina was good at remembering names and faces but had no recollection of meeting him before which she found more than a little troubling.
“I’m Doggett,” said the man. “My answer is yes. I’ll take the job.”
Bettina held up one finger, opened the relevant notebook and crossed off his name. Despite the irregularity of entering her office without being asked at least this was one list she could mark as finished. The completeness of it eased the muscles in her shoulders and she stopped gouging her leg.
“Good. You will receive instructions in three days’ time.”
Doggett gave her a peculiar two-fingered wave and went out of the door, leaving her alone amid tidy shelves of notebooks.
Doggett left the palace via one of the many entrances disguised as a servant. The guards on duty had seen him coming and going for the last week so they paid no attention to him. They probably didn’t even remember his face. Being easily forgotten had been something he’d initially hated, until as a young boy he’d realised its potential. He was invisible.
Small thefts and petty crimes were blamed on others who were inevitably punished in his place, until he escalated to his first murder. At that point not even his ability to blend into a crowd could hide him, but thankfully someone else found him before the authorities.
Since then he’d always been working behind the scenes, often alongside people in power who didn’t even know he was there, watching, listening and reporting back to others. He was a faceless and nameless man.
Once he was a few streets away from the palace
he dumped the empty package he was carrying, stripped out of his servant’s coat, pulled off the palace stars he’d pinned on and tossed everything at a beggar. He picked up his own coat and weapons from where he’d stashed them, feeling more comfortable with their familiar weight and smell.
Doggett strolled through the city, apparently at ease, often stopping to chat with merchants and peruse their wares. In truth he was checking to see if anyone was following him. After an hour of wandering he set off for his real destination. Such precautions were necessary, now more than ever before with the stakes so high. Taking a winding route he finally arrived at the tailor’s shop.
The owner wasn’t part of the organisation but they had an arrangement. She looked towards the ceiling and held up one finger. Doggett thanked her and went upstairs, knocking loudly on the door before pushing it open. At such meetings it was always better to announce your arrival than end up with a dagger in the eye for barging in.
The new Minister of Trade, Daria, who had taken over from her late husband, sat waiting for him sipping tea opposite someone he knew very well. He knelt before her and reached out to take her hand reverentially.
“Mother,” he whispered, waiting until Akosh touched him on the back of the head before standing up. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Akosh grimaced and it hurt him to see her so upset. “My plans were forced to change after the incident at the orphanage.”
“I’ve investigated what happened. No one knows who the new teacher works for but I’ll keep digging. For now we have someone following him.”
She waved it away. “It doesn’t matter. We have more important things to discuss.”
Daria bowed in her seat. “What are your orders, Mother?”
“I know you’ve been very patient, Daria, and I appreciate your sacrifice,” said Akosh. Doggett had not expected the Minister of Trade to last more than a month with such an enthusiastic and energetic mistress, but he’d proven them all wrong. Somehow he’d managed to last six months before his heart had finally given out. All the while Daria had played the role of the disrespected wife. She had originally married him out of affection, but any such feelings were secondary to their Mother. Judging from Daria’s cool expression Doggett guessed that she and her husband had grown apart over the years.
Daria shrugged, confirming his suspicion. “He wasn’t the man I married.”
“Even so, I expect you to continue to play the role of the wounded widow in public,” Akosh reminded her.
“Yes, Mother,” said Daria sincerely and Doggett knew her obedience was absolute. “What do you want me to do about the Regent?”
“Nothing. He knows you’re thankful for the appointment and he’ll expect absolute loyalty in return. That will suffice for now. Don’t try to wheedle your way into his good graces. Just do your job as well as possible and that will be enough. Your late husband was incompetent, so your best will be a hundred times better and that will get you noticed.”
Doggett knew that Regent Choilan was a cunning man to have clawed his way to the top, driving off or killing others competing for the throne. Now that he was there he intended to hold on for as long as possible. Everyone knew blood relatives of their late King were grooming a young boy to take the throne, but that was at least fifteen years away.
That meant for now the Regent had time to create a legacy for himself and his family, but only if he managed to hold onto the throne. The Regent was cautious and it took him a long time to trust someone. It took even longer for them to become a part of his inner circle, like Bettina. Most thought she was simply another scribe but Doggett knew she was one of a handful in the palace that had other duties. Daria would have to be patient as well and slowly earn his trust.
“In time the Regent will come to rely on you,” Akosh was saying. “Yerskania might be the trading heart of the west, but they don’t have adequate protection against Garvey and his ilk. Soon the Regent will have an incomparable force on hand and I can foresee a time when he may want to loan them to others.”
One of the many things Doggett loved about Mother was her ability to think long-term. She did her best to guide events to benefit certain parties, but the appearance of Garvey was something no one had expected. Nevertheless, she had found a way to turn it to their advantage.
“What about the Regent’s wives?” asked Daria.
“Let Doggett and the others worry about them,” said Akosh. “Only the Regent’s first wife has any brains and we’ll keep her busy. Focus on your duties for the time being.”
“As you wish, Mother,” said Daria, bowing again before leaving via the backstairs. He heard her leave the shop via the back door and knew she would take adequate precautions to ensure she wasn’t followed before returning home.
“What are your orders for me, Mother?”
Akosh gestured at the chair opposite and he sat down, perched on the edge, alert and attentive. “Have they found all of the bodies?”
“No, Mother. I still have the last one in a secure location.”
“Make sure it’s discovered and someone is found to take the blame. Perhaps a foreign agent? Someone from Yerskania? There are too many of them in the city for my liking.”
As far as Doggett knew there were nine agents but he would bet the true number was probably double that. Ever since the war Queen Morganse had been paying very close attention to her northern neighbours.
“I have someone in mind,” said Doggett, who had been planning this for some time. “Do you need anything else?”
“Make yourself indispensable to the Regent’s first wife. She’s always dabbled in spycraft, but give her some real meat. Dig up a few foreign agents and send them her way. I want to see how far she’s willing to go. That will determine our next move.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Is there something you wish to tell me?” she asked.
“I’ve been told the Regent and one of his aides, Bettina, are looking into the disappearance of Habreel.”
Akosh grimaced. “I was expecting this. Drip-feed them clues about him being in an asylum. That should be enough, but keep an eye on them.”
“Yes, Mother.” A crease marred her forehead and his concern made him speak out of turn. “Are you well, Mother?”
Akosh raised an eyebrow at the question but she let it go. “No, but I will be, once we secure the Regent’s loyalty and then, one day, Zecorria.”
Doggett smiled as he pictured what that meant in the future. A nation of their own. One where every church in every village, town and city was devoted to Akosh. It would be glorious.
CHAPTER 11
Tianne had been putting off her decision for nearly two weeks. But she’d finally found the right moment to tell Wren that she was leaving.
Until today there had been one crisis after another and Tianne didn’t want her friend to feel like she was being abandoned at the worst time. It had started with the arrival of the injured girl and her mother who’d been attacked by raiders. Despite Wren’s efforts the girl’s wounds had been severe and if not for the expert skills of Master Yettle, she would have died. Tianne knew that Wren had tried her best to heal the girl but from what Danoph had told her it had made little real difference. Healing was one of the most difficult skills to master as a mage and few of the students were making any real progress.
There had been some damage to the girl’s head, bleeding inside the skull, and Master Yettle had prepared everyone for the worst. There was a chance the girl would wake up and have some impairment, but it was also possible she’d just die in her sleep. Tianne had stayed busy throughout the day, organising other students, making sure classes ran on time and doing her best to pretend that nothing was amiss. Everyone was enormously relieved when the girl woke up and was completely healed.
The next crisis after that was one of their newly caught sheep had gone missing. A thorough search the following day revealed half of its carcass wedged up a tree. They found a few other bits not far away, mostly
bones and gristle, that showed signs of being gnawed on by something with big teeth. Something living in the nearby hills, probably a mountain lion, had come down in search of a tasty meal. That meant another busy day was spent building an enclosure for the sheep at night. Now they assigned two armed shepherds during the day to keep watch, especially when their sheep were taken out of the valley to graze. Thanks to the help of their dowser, Helsa, they’d also increased the size of their flock to almost sixty. The number of sheep left to roam wild was an uncomfortable reminder of the number of settlements that had been abandoned in the district.
Another problem with their busy and growing community was the amount of work they faced every day. Unfortunately Wren had difficulty delegating tasks and trusting people, but as her closest friends she often turned to Tianne and Danoph for support. She was happy to help and it was nice to feel needed, but with every day that passed Tianne began to realise that her future lay elsewhere.
When they’d fled the Red Tower it had all happened so quickly. With little time to think about her future Tianne had chosen to stay with her friends. Now, after a few weeks of relative peace, and having spent some time alone with her thoughts, Tianne realised she’d just taken the easiest road. Staying here would be safe. This community was Wren’s dream, and, as much as Tianne admired what she was trying to achieve, it didn’t feel like home. When news came from the north she knew it was what she had been waiting for.
Finally there had been no major incidents for three days. Tianne realised it was time to tell the others before something else happened that would force her to make another delay.
She’d just finished milking their surly goat when she spotted Wren showing the latest new arrivals around the valley. The man and his wife were refugees who’d fled their remote home in the hills after being attacked by raiders. They’d survived the war ten years ago and all of its horrors, only to be driven out of their cabin by bandits. Grief clung to both of them like a heavy cloak and Tianne knew they’d lost friends and family. The woman was at least six months pregnant and both were exhausted.
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