by Dave Dickie
“And what would have have me do to assist you?” asked Stegar.
Daesal was quiet for a long time. Then she finally said, “Tell me I am doing the right thing.” Daesal looked at the deck of the ship and said more softly, “It does not feel like the right thing.”
Stegar paused for a moment. “I was at Citadel Baejo a few years back, on loan with my men to the local Kethem Guard unit.” He felt rather than saw Daesal’s confusion. “When the Stangri raiders hit, they tend to come in waves. If there’s one raid, the northern provinces send supporting wardens south to supplement the shoreline. There are too many places where the Stangri can land to protect them all without help. So I was sent with twenty men at arms. Citadel Baejo is at the tip of the Kethem peninsula, at a natural choke point you need to pass through to get to the Lanotalis sea. It’s there to watch for any Stangri raiders that are trying to make it farther north. If there are none, troops can be sent south for support. If there are, they can be sent north instead.” Stegar stopped. It was still a painful memory. He sighed and continued, “A thick fog had rolled in. There was no way to tell what was happening in such limited visibility.” Daesal waited patiently for him to come to the point. “I requisitioned a number of small fishing vessels in the nearby town, made the fisherman go out with one of my men aboard. Each man had a brass bell. They spread out through the channel. If they encountered a Stangri raiding vessel, they were to ring the bell, and we would know to send men north.”
“It sounds like a sensible plan,” said Daesal.
“It was a sensible plan, and it worked. But, you see, the vessel ringing the bell made a target of itself. It was a good strategy, but it came at a cost. A smaller cost than an undeterred Stangri raid in the north, but men still died because of my orders.”
“I am not going to kill the Sambhal priestess, Stegar.”
“I know. But it is the same principle. The world is rarely purely good or purely evil. You have to measure the cost of doing something distasteful against the cost of not doing it. Which is to say, Daesal, that you are doing the right thing.”
“Let us hope so,” she answered.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Two days later they reached Bythe, much to Stegar’s relief, or at least his stomach’s. The trip had been, in many ways, a productive use of their time, since there had been many opportunities for conversations with Padan and Jedia. Stegar already had a measure of Padan from the trip out to Tawhiem, so he spent most of his time paying attention to Jedia. He had concluded Jedia wasn’t at all what he seemed. Jedia projected an image of a kindly old man, perhaps a bit short of “jolly” but certainly generally upbeat and friendly. Under that disarming veneer hid a sharp intellect that constantly watched and evaluated everyone around them. Stegar had not forgotten that he, Daesal, and the rest of the team, had been used as bait on a hook. Jedia might not be ruthless, but he was clearly willing to make hard decisions for the good of his order, regardless of collateral damage.
Despite all that, Stegar found himself liking the old man. Jedia reminded Stegar of his father, hard but principled, although Jedia had a much more refined demeanor than the simple farmer Stegar’s father had been. They both had a down-to-earth quality that made you want to trust them, and they were both much more intelligent than they seemed.
Daesal had a similar impression, one supported by her ability to read people from their scent. Grim had said he didn’t trust Jedia, but then, Grim didn’t trust anyone. Hantlin, on the other hand, did like Jedia, but Hantlin was the flip side of Grim and never had anything bad to say about anyone. Gyeong had been won over by Jedia holding a Stangri tea ceremony and, apparently, doing it flawlessly. Gyeong even warmed up a bit toward Padan. At least, he stopped threatening to strike him down where he stood every time they passed in a corridor. So it was a reasonably cordial group that gathered together at the end of the gangplank from the ship’s deck to the dock.
Jedia said, “We could take coaches from dock if people prefer.”
There were glances between them all, and it was Daesal that finally said “I, for one, would welcome a walk after so long being cooped up on the ship.” Stegar and the others nodded in agreement.
“As you wish,” answered Jedia amiably. “The temple is only a half-mile from here, so it will not be a long one.” He lead them down the wooden planks, broad and thick as a man’s leg, intended to hold the weight of cargo on wagons that lined the far end of the dock to be filled or emptied by overhanging cranes. Despite the weight of the thick wood, the lower docks actually floated to accommodate the changes in tides. They ended in equally thick wooden ramps that could be adjusted as needed and led to the upper docks, stone blocks creating a sea wall and flat gravel acting as staging areas with cranes, warehouses, shops, and other structures to support the thriving sea trade. To the north was a section of fixed docks that extended far out over the water, but those were reserved for the heavy merchants, where speed in loading and unloading cargo outweighed the more expensive permanent structures.
At the top of the ramp, Jedia led them through the throngs of workers, sailors, traders, fishmongers, and others to the great stone gate that separated the docks from Bythe’s northern district. Here and there were the dark blue robes and electric yellow trim of Storm Bull clerics who had been hired to keep a constant wind at the sails of a ship with a particularly valuable cargo, or the dusty-colored fatigues of the Kethem Navy, some with the gold dots of officers, some with the red stripes of enlisted. At the gate, taxmen wearing a Hold’s glyph on their cloaks and sporting copper rings inspected the goods coming and going, recording the flow of goods for later tax assessment by the Holds. On the other side of the gate there were more warehouses, but bars and other sources of entertainment for those working the docks were almost as numerous.
When they approached the gate one of the taxmen walked up to them, a short, sandy-haired fellow with a thin mustache. He had his tablet, one of the Nitheia memory blocks that had been magicked to automatically estimate and record the goods piled high in wagons. “Name and business?” he asked, looking bored.
“Jedia Burst, Archimandrite of the Hasamelis temple, returning from Nol with my negotiation team,” said Jedia.
The taxman squinted an eye at Gyeong. “You have a Stangri for a negotiator?”
Jedia smiled gently. “The Ibisi tribesmen sometime respond better to intimidation than to logic.”
The taxman laughed. “I suppose so. Anything to declare that’s not coming with the cargo?”
Jedia shook his head. “No. This was primarily a goodwill trip. Our temple in Nol requires the permission of all the Ibisi tribes that trade there, and there always one that has some perceived slight that must be smoothed over.”
The taxman nodded. “And you four? You’re not Hasamelis priests,” he said, speaking to Daesal, Stegar, Hantlin and Grim.
Daesal started to speak but Jedia held an arm up to stop her. “They are all specialists in Ibisi culture of one kind or another, employed by the temple.”
The taxman shrugged casually. “Sure, sure. Good enough. Go on through.” Stegar didn’t like that. Holders, and copper rings in particular, did not like commoners who circumvented them, and while Jedia’s answer had technically been correct, and there was no particularly reason for the man to care, it seemed a little odd for him to so casually dismiss Jedia’s intervention. But the copper ring turned away to approach a different group and there was nothing to be done about it, so they moved on.
Stegar moved to walk next to Jedia, who was frowning. Jedia glanced at him and read the question in his eyes. “Yes, that was a bit disconcerting. There’s no reason for taxmen to question travellers unless they think there’s something small and valuable being brought in surreptitiously, and no one would think the head of a temple in Bythe would be so foolish.”
“Perhaps he didn’t know you were with the temple,” suggested Stegar. “Your garb is not priestly.”
Jedia’s frown stayed where it was.
“Perhaps. But there have been too many strange things happening recently for me to feel comfortable.”
Stegar nodded. “Corel and the elf’s crystal ball,” he said.
“Not just that,” answered Jedia.
Stegar glanced sideways at him. “If there is more to share than you have already told us, now would be a good time to let us know.”
Jedia sighed. “A young acolyte of the temple attacked me in order to find out about the mission to Tawhiem. One that appeared human, but was not.” The old man shrugged his shoulders and winced. “They did not succeed, but it is clear there is someone else interested in the mission, someone with unknown but impressive capabilities.”
Stegar almost stumbled. His voice was hard. “This was something you might have mentioned back in Nol. If it wasn’t human, are we talking about demons? Here, in Bythe?”
Jedia shook his head negatively. “I do not believe so. Not if the descriptions of Sambhal were accurate. There was some indication she - it - could do illusions and other magic to trick the eye or the ear, but it would be impossible to sustain that for the six months the acolyte was in the temple. No, I feel certain it was something else. Who, and for what purpose, I cannot say.”
Stegar sighed. This was getting better by the minute. Demons on one side, mysterious non-human assailants that could pass as a Hasamelis priest in their own temple on the other. “I have to tell Daesal,” he said curtly to Jedia.
Daesal was in front of the with Padan and Gyeong. Stegar was stepping a little faster to catch up with them when all three of them stopped. Padan’s staff suddenly turned into a warhammer, but Gyeong reached out and stopped him from using it. There was a young woman with black hair, blue eyes, and a faintly amused smile dressed in a form-fitting black leather dress standing in front of them. As he approached, he heard her say, “Gyeong, may the winds find your sail,” clasping her hands together and bowing slightly, a traditional Stangri greeting.
Gyeong bowed back. He couldn’t clasp his hands together and hang on to Padan’s warhammer at the same time, so he did a half-gesture with his free hand and said “Delia, may we discover good water together,” an equally traditional Stangri response. Padan was still trying to get his warhammer up for an overhead swing, but he might as well have been trying to chew through a thick log with his teeth for all the effect it was having on Gyeong’s hold. Gyeong turned to him and said conversationally, “I would let you attack Delia and watch her kill you, but you must observe tradition first.”
Padan stopped struggling to free the hammer and looked at Gyeong like he was demented. “What?”
“You must formally challenge her, and we must set out the boundaries for the conflict to prevent injury to bystanders,” said Gyeong. “I have fought her in Mautua matches before, and her strength and speed is such that I doubt you will get a blow in, but we are not animals. There are customs to be followed.” By that time Jedia and the other laggards had caught up.
Delia grinned at Gyeong. “Those were fun matches, Gyeong, and you were a worthy opponent,” which Gyeong clearly took as high praise. “Just hold him. I don’t want to injure him.” Delia turned to the old priest. “Jedia, good to see you again. Sorry about the shoulders, but it looks like you got them physicked up just fine.”
The old man smiled back, but there was more pain than humor in it. “Still get twinges, but they have mostly healed.” Padan had stopped struggling with Gyeong. Jedia turned to him and said “Padan, I suspect she means us no harm. Please restrain yourself.” Padan looked confused, but his warhammer was suddenly a walking stick again. Jedia looked back to Delia. “I wish I could say it was good to see you again, but you betrayed the order. It is not something I take lightly.”
Daesal was looking back and forth between the young woman and the old priest in confusion. Stegar gave her a sign that told her he would explain later. He saw her regard the young woman with the slight flair of her nostrils he had become familiar with when she was doing her olfactory investigation of someone. Then Daesal looked even more confused, which made Stegar a little nervous.
Delia shrugged. “It was a mission, and not intended to do harm to the temple or its clergy.” She glanced at Jedia’s shoulders. “I went a little overboard with that last question, and I am sorry for that.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small gold medallion, about an inch in diameter, with a crossed oar and spyglass inscribed on it and showed it to everyone. “Kethem Naval Intelligence. I would like all of you to accompany me to the local office to answer some questions. Carriages are on the way to take us there.” She looked at Daesal. “Ma’am, I understand you are a Silver Ring from Trach Hold. For you, it’s a request, but I will warn you that if I need to go to a Magistrate to force cooperation, I will.”
Daesal shook her head. “No need, Guardsman. I will stay with my friends.”
Delia bowed slightly. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Daesal said, “Please, call me Daesal. I’m not old enough to be a ma’am to anyone.”
Delia laughed a bit. “My lady, then. Or I can go with citizen, even if you are a Holder. Corps protocol suggests getting on a first-name basis would be inappropriate.”
“What are you?” said Padan to Delia, finally recovering from the shock of running into her.
Delia’s grin slipped a bit. “A KNI agent is all you need to know, Padan. Full authority, and the mission I am on right now is platinum, which means utilize all available methods.”
“Meaning?” asked Padan.
“Meaning I can kill you where you stand if I need to,” answered Delia.
Jedia shook his head. “No need to make threats, Delia. We are all happy to cooperate with the KNI.”
“I had no doubt, Fath--Jedia,” Delia responded.
Jedia sighed. “You could have just asked for cooperation from the temple in the first place. There was no need for subterfuge.”
Delia grinned again. “There’s always a need for subterfuge in the Intelligence service. But, really, we didn’t know exactly what we were looking for. It could have been you. It could have been Padan. It could have been a cabal of all of the Hasamelis priests.” Delia shrugged. “Easier to assume everyone’s guilty.”
“Guilty of what, exactly?” asked Daesal.
Delia shook her head. “Not here, in the open. Maybe not ever. What to reveal is above my pay grade.”
Padan broke in. “And Corel? Was she KNI as well?”
Delia nodded. “I’m afraid so. When I heard about the mission, about recruiting people off the waterfront, I told the boss and he wanted someone in the group. Corel was the pick.”
Daesal said, “Then she stole the elvish crystal ball for the KNI?”
Delia pursed her lips. “Stole is such a strong word. Intercepted? Requisitioned? But yes. Again, platinum mission, meaning the security of Kethem is at stake. Meaning we can do what we want as long as Holders are not involved, and even sometimes with Holders involved if they appear to be doing something against Kethem’s best interests.”
Daesal said, “That belonged to a friend, an elf who risked his life for us.”
Delia shrugged. “And now it belongs to the KNI. Roll with it, or it will roll over even you, my lady. Elvish magic tops the list of things that the KNI is tasked with collecting, analyzing, and if possible, replicating.”
It looked like Daesal was going to argue but Stegar got her attention and shook his head. When he’d been a Warden, he’d had to deal with the Kethem Navy and Kethem Guard. The KNI was, theoretically, part of the Navy, but in practice it reported directly to the High Council. The regular military units were afraid of them, and the word on the street was they didn’t play by the rules, even with Holders, and that the High Council backed them on that. Daesal finally nodded and said, “perhaps we can discuss it later.”
Delia snorted. “Not with me. Again, above my pay grade. I wish you luck if you want to make it an issue with Tei… the Commander.” Delia glanced down the street. “And here is our ride.”
Two nondescript coaches each pulled by four nondescript horses pulled up. Each had a driver and what appeared to be a footman, someone to place a step and open the door for the passengers, but Stegar knew soldiers when he saw them. Concealed weapons, too. Daesal, Stegar, Padan, Jedia and Delia stepped into one carriage. Gyeong, Hantlin and Grim stepped into the other.
Chapter Thirty
Half an hour later, they were outside a modern brick building with a white marble entryway sporting a large bronze disk with the eyeglass and oar symbol of Kethem Naval Intelligence. Daesal looked at the group once they had all existed the coaches. “Where’s Grim?” she asked, perplexed.
Delia stood still for a moment, then with a stern expression checked the coach Gyeong, Hantlin, and Grim had taken, finding it empty. She looked at with a raised eyebrow at Gyeong, who grinned and shrugged, then at Hantlin, who looked embarrassed. Delia sighed and shook her head. “Let’s just forget that he was with the group, shall we? The Commander is easy to upset.”
Daesal nodded. “As you say.”
“This way,” said Delia, leading the rest of them through double doors into the brick building. The doors led to a small, square room done in white, with wide leather chairs and tables placed to form sitting areas. In the back there was a tall desk with two people standing behind it, as well as a door on either side. Delia nodded to the people behind the desk and asked, “What room?”
One of them looked down for a second, then called out, “Bitthers.”
Delia nodded again and took them through the door on the right. There was a long corridor with regularly-spaced doors, and each door had a brass plaque. They stopped at the one with the plaque that read “Bitthers” and Delia opened the door and ushered them inside. The room contained one long, polished wooden table surrounded by two dozen comfortable chairs. There was a door on the far side as well as the one they entered by. Delia indicated everyone should sit, which they did. She said, “The Commander will be here in a moment.”