The door opened again and in came the sound of another wheeled bed rustling against the floor until it took the place of Roe’s empty bed.
Opening his eyes, he found Doctor Yah’v hard at work over a new patient—Roe! “You got her back,” he yelped.
“Yes, yes,” Doctor Yah’v said, out of breath. “Lost the other three, I’m afraid.”
“Dead?”
“Missing somewhere on the island,” he replied, inserting the same tubes in her that were once in Mend when he first woke up. “Don’t worry, we’ll find them. We’ll keep you safe.”
“Keep…me…safe,” Mend repeating, choking on his words. Suddenly, Zeth’s threat seemed to be turning into prophecy. How...wonderful. No good deed ever goes unpunished. Almighty, thanks.
***
Ed woke to the sun warming his face and blinding his eyes. He had fallen asleep reading at his desk, his old book opened to a passage about how a successful life was made up of seasons. Spring for opportunities. Summer for successes. Autumn for defeats. Winter for reassessments. Success and defeats, prosperity and famine. Everything had its time, and no preparation could deny them. The author had intended to teach on the impermanence of one’s state in life, to not grow overly confident and stumble, nor discouraged and miss opportunity. But Ed also used this passage to help him through his terrors: everything passes, even this, his current problem. He found little solace in it now, however; he still had to go through the damn thing.
He straightened up from his desk, massaging away the lines and edges the book had worn into his face. By the brightness of the sun, he knew it had to be late into the morning, but that no longer concerned him. Nothing concerned him now that he knew the truth. Araa. Maybe they would still find her body. She couldn’t survive long after exposure. Yet, that prospect didn’t give him much hope.
He felt hallow inside and emotionally numb as he gazed about his one-room partitioned barrack having lost its homeliness now that it was effectively his jail. What else was there for him to do but walk from one seat to another and read. He couldn’t idle however; his mind would quickly grab onto the problem, made worse because he couldn’t do anything about it.
He looked out his window, seeing his troops —the city’s troops— doing their morning exercises. They probably had no idea he was under house arrest, and neither should they. They had a job to do, and so did Ed, except he wasn’t allowed to do it.
“I should have let her die,” he whispered, echoing Glen’s words yesterday. A twinge of tension electrified in his arms, but he massaged it away, exhaling slowly. “Please, Glen,” he added. “Get me out of this one.”
Outside his window, he saw two Central Office guards by his door: J’rek and Taylor. The two Glen trusted. The two Ed assumed would report to Glen if he tried to walk off.
Thinking of nothing else to do, Ed went to his washroom and splashed his face with water. He saw in the mirror that he still wore the more casual dark gray commanding uniform as the day before with its three crimson ropes around the shoulder for his rank. If they didn’t find her, would he be demoted? Court-martialed? Executed? No, not executed. He didn’t commit treason, and his skills were still valuable to the coming war. Then what? Would he remain in this one room prison till the nobles need him to shed blood again?
He opened the mirror door, revealing an empty cabinet. He had given the last of his relaxants to Araa. Ed frowned deeply remembering that night he helped her escape, giving into compassion instead of his duty. He slammed the mirror door closed, his reflection broken by a spiderweb of cracks. “I’m not a murderer,” he said, burying his regret down. “And I’m not done yet.”
He marched into his kitchen, grabbed his coat from one of the chairs. Before putting it on, he wrapped his fingers around the loops of rope on his shoulder. He tugged on them to rip them off but stopped. What was he thinking of doing? Would he run off and search for Araa himself? Break Glen’s house arrest? What about his command? His fight against the empire? Confronting Sera?
He closed his eyes tightly before sliding into the nearest seat and resting his chin against his chest. What else could he do? That voice in his terror, it plead for him to do something. “No, ignore, don’t listen to it,” Ed whispered to himself, that familiar dread rising again. The last thing he needed was to go insane like the others, but stuck here trapped between four walls all winter might do the job anyway. He thought of the Trader House Blue bottle in his desk. Not nearly enough for…and…. No, he wasn’t like Glen when he drank, he thought staring at his closed fist.
Suddenly, curse words erupted outside his barrack before a single loud knock thudded the door.
“Come in,” Ed said eagerly, practically jumping from his seat. Maybe it was Glen with good news for a change.
“The door’s locked, Major,” said Marabaunze’s small voice. Marabaunze?
Ed opened the door and there on his step were his three Captain, Marabaunze with her stoic demeanor, the always brooding Olsen, and the giant Greener, rapier at his hip and chewing on something that smelt of apples. “Uh…welcome everyone. Come in,” Ed said, waving them inside before closing the door. “Go ahead, sit anywhere you like.” But they remained in place, standing awkwardly in a room too small for all four of them.
Ed flashed his eyebrows. “What can I do for you?”
“Apparently nothing,” Captain Olsen grumbled, his scowl deepening. “We just heard this morning the Office put you on house arrest. And those bastards have the gall to put their own guards here too.”
“We’re all on the same side,” Ed said, fetching his bottle and cup from his desk. “Morning drink, any of you,” he asked, showing them what he had.
“Yes,” they all said, even Marabaunze which surprised him. Tension in the room had thickened, Ed realized, with Marabaunze straining her eyebrows together, Greener holding fast to his rapier and Olsen crossing his arms. Their concern both touched and hurt him. He caused this whole mess. He deserved to be stuck in here.
Ed hunted for two more cups. “Don’t worry,” he tried consoling them. “Central Office isn’t going to ride over me.”
Olsen let out a forced laugh. “Worry? Those bastards just want to clean the slate for Niklas so they could get in good with him when he takes command.”
After scrounging through his cupboards, Ed found an old ceramic mug and a glass cup, the last of his ‘fancy’ tableware. He’d have to be more careful not to break another one. Opening the bottle for the first time, he noticed a bit of burnt smell to it. Not surprising, he had this bottle for—
“Have you been given counsel,” Marabaunze asked.
“No,” Ed answered. “But, I’ve got Glen in there—”
“You’re hoping on a Junior Magistrate,” Marabaunze asked, her voice uncharacteristically resentful. “One with the reputation as Glen Gallegos has? I expected to find you more concerned.” He was concerned, but showing that concern to his Captains wasn’t something Ed wanted to do. This was his problem; he’ll suffer through it.
Instead, he gave her a tight smile, before passing out the drinks to them. “I haven’t been charged with anything. Negligence by itself isn’t a crime—”
“But it is punishable,” she added.
Ed panned his arms around his jail. “I’ve already been punished.”
“There will be more,” Olsen said before sipping his drink, swallowing hard. Marabaunze looked down on her drink and Greener avoided eye contact.
“What more,” Ed asked, hesitantly.
“I know a takeover when I see one,” Olsen explained. “They’re blaming you for everything—”
“We screwed up,” Ed admitted, beginning to realize why they were here. If they were going to try to help him, he had to stop it. “Captains,” he said, batting his hands down. “We have to trust our countrymen. Time. We just have to wait—”
“Wait,” Olsen bristled. “We’ve all be working our asses off for all these years to get their war—”
“Our war
,” Ed reminded him. “Sig killed our Queen. The Empire attacked us all that day.”
“Major,” Marabaunze began again. “Our ‘countrymen’ want to win a war. They don’t care how it’s done or we wouldn’t be here. That includes you.”
Ed straightened his posture. Glen said a very similar thing yesterday; it couldn’t be a coincidence. “What did you hear, Mariam?”
She closed her eyes.
“Captain,” Ed rose his voice.
Marabaunze opened her eyes, answering, “Major Niklas assumed command this morning,” she said, still staring at her drink. “An hour or so after midnight when he arrived on horseback.”
“Already here? He…came alone?”
“His troops are in transit,” she answered.
“He could have come to me,” Ed said through gritted teeth.
Olsen snorted. “You shouldn’t be surprised.”
“From him, no, I shouldn’t,” Ed answered, clasping his fists behind him. “But the entire three princedom war effort depends on what we’re doing here. He should have seen me first to get his bearings.”
Marabaunze glanced at Olsen and Greener before saying, “I believe he’s under orders not to talk to you. They’re trying to cut you out of this Major.”
“A fall man,” Olsen added, taking in a drink. He didn’t seem to mind that the wine had long been past its prime.
Ed smiled, trying harder to hide his concern. “No, I’ve known Niklas for a long. It’s just his way. Proud. First Settlers’ warrior’s ancestry and all of that.”
“Not even on a project this important,” Marabaunze said. “I’m not so optimistic.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, he’s under just as much pressure,” Olsen added. “Apparently those those lords and ladies of silk are up his ass to get things under control here. He told us three we’re to resume our usual assignments until he’s up to speed on everything.” Olsen let out a bellowing laugh. “He better not think he can meddle around with our procedures we’ve worked so hard to build here or come spring time, he might have to fight more than the Empire.” Olsen then tipped his cup toward Ed, locking eyes with his. “And that includes meddling with you, Major.”
Ed’s breath caught in his chest. A threat on Major Niklas? Just how bad were things out there? Ed decided to steer the conversation elsewhere, “what gives them the impression things need to be put under control?”
Oslen downed his drink. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he said, pointedly. “People around town just getting antsy over the crops project failing again. We’ve got to import everything from Sat’r or Faf’r this year too and last year a big storm almost cut the lanes for a week.”
“Gotta more than that,” Ed pressed. “I saw one of ours take custody of a Central Office clerk at the Town Crier—”
They all jeered in unison.
“This rivalry isn’t healthy,” Ed grumbled. “We don’t need to compete anymore.”
Olsen put his hands up. “I don’t know what got into that clerk. Guy started a brawl with a cook over a dancer woman he swore stole his money.”
“What did the cook have to do with that?”
Oslen shook his head. “Nothing. But, he was one of our cooks.”
“Is the why Niklas is here so soon? To keep the Office and us from ripping each other’s throats?”
“No, no, no,” Olsen answered. “Niklas cited an up-tick in violent disputes since that night our girl left. That’s all. A brawl, a fire, and a double missing person in a week looks bad against a year of one or two fist fights.”
“It’s worse than that,” Greener finally put in, stirring his drink. “I’ve noticed it. Haven’t you?” Olsen grunted, crossing his arms. Marabaunze sipped the wine, the smallest of sips. “It’s like what they’re doing with you, Major,” Greener continued, worry splitting tiny crossed scars on his face. “Ever since Araa left, everyone around town seems angrier than usual. Like…something’s set in their hearts.”
Oslen bristled again. “A cute popular girl like her gets hurt under our watch then we lose her, of course everyone’s gonna get a little bothered by us. I can understand that.”
“I’ve read your reports, Tham,” Greener retorted. “And I’ve seen it myself out there. People are just…grouchier.”
“I’m grouchy,” Oslen added.
“You’re proving my point—well, you’re an exception.”
Ed almost chuckled, but that exchange gave him a curious thought —a thought that would expose his mistake to his three Captains, so he had better be careful. “Olsen, that night of the fire. Miss Summers. Have Central Office found her?”
“No,” he answered. “I doubt they’re even looking for her.”
“Her description. Dark-skinned, right?”
“So they said, but it was night and everyone got themselves muddy from the brawl—”
“You’re suggesting she’s from the King-Maker lands,” Marabaunze completed Ed’s thought. “I’ve had a similar idea.”
Ed nodded slowly. If what Glen said was true, and the real Araa was long dead and the imposture Araa was helped at the shore, it would make sense she’d have accomplices. And they were still in the city. …Which meant there was a bigger operation going on here.
“But, Mister Winters,” Olsen asked. “He wasn’t from the King-Maker, was he?”
“No, he had a northern look to him,” Greener said, looking to Ed for acknowledgment since he and Predt were the only two who saw him.
“They appeared the night Araa escaped,” Marabaunze said, nodding to herself. “There must be a connection. Did they come for her?”
“Coincidence,” Ed quickly said, steering the conversation away. “But I’m willing to bet she might have the King-Maker gift. Might be way everyone’s been acting so strange lately. I’ll have to—” Ed covered his eyes with his hand and sighed. “Niklas. You three should go to Niklas. Convince him to do a search himself—”
“Like hell,” Oslen grunted. “That man was born with the complete knowledge of the Almighty. He won’t listen to us.”
“He has to,” Ed urged. “If there’s a King-Maker here influencing people, we could have riots on our hands.”
“We’ll try,” Marabaunze said, giving him a sympathetic glance. She probably thought worse was in store for him. “But we might have….” She then flitted a glance at Olsen and Greener. “Do more things on our own.”
“What exactly do you mean,” Ed asked cautiously. He knew what she was implying, stretching their authority beyond Captains. In essence: doing things behind Niklas’s back. In any other command, such actions could be seen as having initiative, but not here. Not in Ruby City. Not with so much riding on the Beast excavation. “Please tell me you’re all going to cooperate with Niklas.”
Olsen snorted.
“This isn’t a game, Olsen,” Ed snapped and immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing the right side of his forehead. “We’ve worked too hard, for too long to risk more problems.”
“What they’re doing to you is wrong,” Marabaunze continued. “You did nothing wrong, but, you’re right. We’ll cooperate with him.” The other two nodded. “Just for a while longer. If we have a King-Maker in the city, then Central could be compromised as well—”
“Time,” Ed said, closing his eyes. He now regretted bringing up the King-Maker idea. “Please. Just give them time. Do your own searches for Winters and Summers, but please, no more than that.”
“I can’t believe you still have faith in them,” Greener said.
“I have faith…” Thank the Almighty Glen doesn’t hear this. “In the process.”
“Fine,” Olsen barked. “We’ll give them time. A little more.” Then Olsen pointed his finger at Ed. “But if they try to hang you, I swear to the Almighty, I’ll stop them.”
“Hang me,” Ed forced a laugh. “I’m not going to hang, Tham. The worst has already happened. By spring, I’ll have a command again. We might not be fighting on the s
ame field, but I’ll be in the same fight.”
Olsen grunted, not sounding very convinced. Marabaunze looked distant, her eyes focused on some corner in his barrack. And Greener stared into his swirling wine. What more could he do to convince them this would calm down? This wasn’t some weak association; this was the military. Duty first. If he took his own advice, he wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.
“Well,” Ed said. “I suppose you three have to get back to work.”
Marabaunze brought her focus onto him, frowning deeply. Ed forced a tight grin. It disturbed him the most that she was worried. She always seemed to know where situations would be five, ten steps ahead of everyone else. But what else was there to see? How much worse could it get? “Yes, you’re right, Major. Thank you for seeing us.”
Greener placed his unfinished cup on the table. “We’re here for you,” he said with more stress than needed.
As the two went for the door, Olsen shook Ed’s hand and leaned into his ear. “You can be a bit of stiff too, Ed. If you need us, you won’t have to ask.”
Ed tightened his grip on Oslen’s hand. “Don’t throw your career —your life away,” Ed whispered. “I will never ask for anything.”
Olsen leaned back, releasing his hand. “That’s why I said you ‘won’t have to,’” he answered with a steely voice. “We’ll be seeing you around, Major.”
Then they left, leaving Ed with more worries. He eased against his desk behind him careful not to bump into the half-drained bottle resting there. They wouldn’t be so stupid as to…what? Go behind Niklas’s back? Disobey him to help Ed? No, they wouldn’t throw everything away for him —for a lie. What would they do? What could they do?
Ed took in a deep breath, calming himself. “They would wait,” he convinced himself. They wouldn’t need to do anything because he wasn’t going to hang. That’s impossible. He’s served faithfully for his prince his entire adult life, suffering scars inside and out. Besides, he broke no laws and there was no evidence that he did. Disobeyed a general order? Araa was half dead and on her way to insanity. What difference did it make? Even if Glen suspected him of letting her go, he couldn’t be charged with it. There was no proof. People don’t hang for circumstantial evidence.
Call of the Chosen- Broken Kingdoms Page 57