An Import of Intrigue

by Marshall Ryan Maresca

  “Jabiudal,” Minox offered.

  “Yes, him.” Rup-Sed said. “I knew of this, and more. And I knew my own people here were concerned.” He looked to Rek-Uti and the other yellow hairs. “They augured that these trades, this new market, the rival interests in Imachan, and the intrusions of the Lyranans would be the spark that would set the eastern nations ablaze with war.”

  “We did,” Rek-Uti said, his face filled with mortification. “But we spoke only in theory.”

  “I know what you all said,” Rup-Sed said. “Because I listened to all of you!” He advanced on Rek-Uti, but Rainey grabbed hold of the boy and held him back. “Remove the head of the Hieljam, let the Druth discover it, and all would work out. And I did it!”

  He turned to Minox and the rest of the group. “He was here alone, to meet with the Kierans, who are always late. So I had ample time. When he drank the tea, I used what skill I have in ge-tan to activate it. As he fell, I put him on top of the table, stabbed him with the Imach blade, and painted the Lyranan poem. I then left, unnoticed by all. Moments later he was found, and Constabulary were called.”

  “Skill in the what?” Rainey asked.

  “In magic,” Minox offered. “He is a mage?”

  “His capacity was limited,” Fel-Sed said. “Which is likely why his destiny was always the rup.”

  Rainey looked put out, but she pulled the irons off her belt. “I am satisfied. Mister Hilsom, Mister Cheever? Any objections?”

  They both shook their heads.

  Minox watched as she ironed Rup-Sed, reciting the terms of arrest. She handed him off to two regulars, and went to speak with Mirrell and Hilsom.

  “Is that all?” Joshea was at Minox’s side.

  “All that will matter to those assembled,” Minox said. He turned and saw Sevqir Fel-Sed watching them lead Rup-Sed off. “Your son?”

  “Grandchild,” Fel-Sed said in quiet tones, her Trade far less accented than it had ever been. “Though we encircle ourselves to our linsol beyond all else. I am fel. His father was vil. And he is rup.” She glanced at Minox, and then gave a meaningful look over to Corrie, helping bring the last of the captured Lyranans out to the lockwagons. “But blood is still blood.”

  Minox held up his hand to her. “You did this to me?”

  “No,” she said. “You had done damage to it, far beyond my ken. It was dying a slow death, leaking magic.”

  Minox understood. He didn’t feel a need to explain the way his arm had been broken, with Nerrish Plum driving one of the strange magic-draining spikes into it. Clearly its effects were more profound than he had realized. “Which was why the pollen affected me so strongly.”

  She nodded. “And that made it die faster, which then made you worse. All I could do was channel it, and hope you would find a new balance.”

  “We need to understand this,” Joshea said. “You saw what happened to him. You have to help us.”

  “There are things I have to do,” Fel-Sed said slowly. “But they do not involve you.” She walked off toward the hut.

  “Wait,” Minox said. “There is a problem with your grandson’s confession.”

  “That he could never write an eizhein of such power that it brings Lyranans to tears?” She smiled, as if she had plucked the very thought out of Minox’s head. “You will have to consider that unresolved, Inspector. Just as that, for now.” She nodded in the direction of Inspector Rainey.

  Rainey was standing by the Lyranan woman, Pra Yikenj, reciting the terms of arrest to her with a certain look of grim satisfaction on her face. Yikenj looked at her and smiled, and then said something in a low whisper.

  Inspector Rainey stopped her recitation, shock crossing over her face. She shoved Yikenj away, and shouted instructions to the regulars and stalked away.

  Minox looked back to Fel-Sed, but she had slipped off.

  Rainey came over to Minox. “Looks like we’ve caused enough damage for tonight.”

  “What did she say to you?” Minox asked.

  “Nothing worth repeating,” Rainey said, though her expression showed she wasn’t being truthful. “She’s trying to rattle me.”

  “Very well,” Minox said.

  “Mister Brondar,” Rainey said, looking at Joshea oddly. “Thank you for your help in apprehending her. I know . . . I know you exposed yourself, for my sake and Miss Welling’s. I appreciate that, and I will conveniently forget the details on my official reports.”

  Joshea smiled. “Thank you, Inspector. I just . . . I was glad to do something useful.”

  “Good.” She leaned in closer. “Though you should probably slip off and take that vest off someplace where no one notices you. Hopefully the three of us and Corrie are the only ones who know you shouldn’t be wearing it.”

  “Right,” he said sheepishly. “I still need to figure out what to tell my father about all this. Corrie told me she already kicked the hornet’s nest over there.”

  “If you need—” Minox started.

  “Don’t worry,” Joshea said. “Whatever I come up with will be better than an excuse coming from you.”

  “As you say,” Minox said, extending his hand.

  Joshea took it. “Though I think we should stay out of each other’s path for a few weeks.”

  “Of course,” Minox said. He didn’t care for it, but he understood.

  Joshea went off, and all signs from the gathered people showed Minox there was little reason to stay at the Tsouljan enclave.

  “You’re not signed in right now,” Rainey said. “So I suppose you could just go straight home.”

  “Not at all,” Minox said. “I promised Inspector Mirrell once this was resolved, we would go to the stationhouse together. There is no cause to delay this further.”

  Chapter 26

  THE REMAINING PARTIES were given leave to go, though Satrine noted they were all quite put out. At some point Hilsom had made it clear to Kenorax that his holdings were to be put through a thorough audit, and he looked ready to eat glass. There was also talk of having someone from customs perform inspections of the various warehouses in the Little East.

  Only Hieljam ab Tishai showed any emotion other than annoyance. She came up to Satrine cautiously. “This has been a trying time, and emotions have been . . . heated. I appreciate the diligence and drive you put into solving the death of my isahresa.”

  “That’s my job,” Satrine said. “I’m not sure if it’s quite the same for you, but I . . . I’ve been through similar loss, with my husband, and—”

  “I am not interested,” Hieljam ab Tishai said. “It would be my custom to pay you now, but that is not your custom. I will honor your way. I hope, in the future, you show more honor to mine.”

  Satrine wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but nodded as the retinue of Fuergans and their lawyers left.

  “To the stationhouse, miss?” Hace was at her elbow again, despite dried blood caked onto his face.

  “Let’s take a proper wagon back,” Satrine said. “And ride with Mirrell and Welling.”

  “I’ve already called for it,” Hace said. “I’m not taking any more chances with you for the rest of my shift.”

  “When does your shift end, Hace?”

  “When it does,” he said with a shrug. “Or later, if I want. Mostly sleep in the bunks at the stationhouse anyway.”

  Hace went off to get the wagon, and Satrine shambled over to the street to wait. Whatever Leppin had doped her with had certainly faded, and every part of her body ached.

  The wagon arrived and she let herself fall into a seat. Mirrell and Welling did the same, sitting in silence as the wagon trundled off. Satrine was in no mood or condition to force conversation, and let her eyes shut restlessly until they arrived.

  Satrine was vaguely aware of the ride, noting they were close when Mirrell told the driver to take them to the front
of the stationhouse. As they pulled up, she took more notice of the surroundings, specifically a large group gathered around the front gates of the stationhouse.

  “Another riot or protest?” Mirrell asked.

  Satrine wondered the same, until she noticed that most of the people were quiet and attentive, and she specifically noticed who they were being attentive of.

  Commissioner Enbrain, standing at the main door with Captain Cinellan by his side.

  “And it is only through this leadership,” they could hear him say as they got out, his voice booming out over the crowd, “and his ability to not only rally his damaged house, but to gather the help he needed from neighboring precincts, that order was maintained in Inemar during this trying ordeal.”

  “The blazes is he talking to?” Mirrell asked.

  “The press,” Welling said. “Writers from South Maradaine Gazette, Maradaine Daily Print, Riverside Standard, and others I don’t recognize.”

  “The events of the past few days have only solidified the great confidence we all feel in Captain Brace Cinellan. When faced with trials, he has risen to it. Under his command, his inspectors have brought to justice the murderer of a noted foreign dignitary.”

  He gave a wave of regard to Satrine, Welling, and Mirrell, who were all still standing outside the carriage. Satrine imagined that the press who glanced in their direction must have thought them all dumbfounded.

  “That didn’t take long,” Satrine said as soon as the press were watching Enbrain again.

  “That’s a lot of butter he’s spreading,” Mirrell said.

  “There is an election in a few days,” Welling added.

  Enbrain went on. “And if the details of this case, as well as these challenging events, prove anything, it is the necessity of an investigative body capable of a wider view. A unit to handle cases just such as these, and capable of going wherever the investigation takes them. That is why I’m announcing the formation of the Maradaine Constabulary Grand Inspectors’ Unit. This unit will operate here, out of the Inemar Stationhouse, under the command of Captain Cinellan.”

  The press people started furiously scribbling in their notebooks.

  “Let’s go around to the side,” Satrine said. “Last thing any of us want right now is to deal with these people.”

  Inspector Rainey had suggested taking one of the side entrances to avoid the crowd of the press, especially in the light of Commissioner Enbrain’s announcement. Minox found, however, that it was hardly possible to avoid a crowd, as many members of his family were waiting in the stationhouse for them.

  Uncle Timmothen took the lead, getting unnecessarily physical with Minox as he approached. Timmothen grabbed Minox in a massive embrace, and then held the sides of his head to look at his eyes.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I am fine, Uncle,” Minox said. “I would appreciate you releasing me.”

  Timmothen did, and then pointed one of his meaty fingers at Mirrell. “And you, you call yourself an inspector, sneaking off to our home!”

  Minox held up a hand to put himself in between Inspector Mirrell and his uncle. “Which was exactly where I was, and Inspector Mirrell did right by his duty to seek me there. We could ask no less in his diligence.”

  “Yeah, but what for?” This came from Edard. “You didn’t need hunting down or nothing. Look at you. You’re good.”

  Minox did not want to have this conversation in such a public venue, in the middle of the main work floor of his stationhouse. “I will discuss this at length when we are at home. In the meantime, I hold no enmity toward Inspector Mirrell, and urge you all to do the same. But I do have business which must be attended to, so if this is not your stationhouse, then please go home. I am fine.”

  His family members, for the most part, went off, all taking a moment to give dark looks at Mirrell or assure Minox that Beliah was fine. Minox thanked them for their pains and went up to the inspectors’ floor with Rainey and Mirrell. Two family members stayed right with him, though Minox couldn’t rebuke Nyla or Corrie, since this was their stationhouse as well.

  “What are you doing?” Mirrell asked Corrie.

  “Keeping my one rutting eye on the both of you,” she said. “I ain’t going to let you run over him with the wagon.”

  “Corrie, it’s fine.”

  “Like blazes it’s fine.”

  Rainey looked over to Nyla. “Miss Pyle, we have any word on Kellman?”

  “He’s on the ward floor,” Nyla said, not turning her head toward Rainey. “He’s expected to make a full recovery, as are most of the men injured in the attack. As you are, I suppose.”

  Minox fought the urge to rebuke Nyla. He understood her anger regarding Inspector Rainey, and he did not try to convince her otherwise. As long as she remained civil and did her duty, he wouldn’t intervene. But her behavior bordered on childish.

  Leppin was waiting near the inspectors’ desks. He approached Rainey, though he gave nervous glances over at Minox as he did. “How did it go, Inspector?” he asked her.

  “Nearly had a bad moment, but it passed,” she said. “But I’m more than ready to head home and get proper sleep.”

  Leppin didn’t appear comforted by that. “I didn’t think nearly bad was an option. But if you’re on your feet, must have turned out all right.”

  Captain Cinellan came up the stairs with the commissioner, both of them looking rather pleased with themselves. Minox found this distasteful, given all that had occurred.

  “Well,” the commissioner said. “We’ve weathered quite a storm here, haven’t we?”

  “It could have gone worse,” Rainey said, her tone guarded.

  “Damn near did,” Captain Cinellan said.

  The commissioner went on. “I want you all to know that everyone of us at Constabulary Plaza are so proud of the work you are doing here. This new unit, it’s going to mean a lot of work, but I know all of you, as part of Brace’s team here, are up for the challenge.”

  He shook Cinellan’s hand and went for the door. As Cinellan went to his office, Rainey stepped to the side and had a quiet word with the commissioner. Of course, they knew each other—her husband had served out of Constabulary Plaza.

  Minox realized that something hadn’t been sitting right with him about that announcement—if the commissioner was creating a special Inspectors’ Unit to cover the city, he would naturally want to form it out of Constabulary Plaza on the north side of the city. In choosing Captain Cinellan and the Inemar house, perhaps he was signaling that the main headquarters of the City Constabulary was somehow unfit to serve.

  Minox filed that in the back of his mind as something that might be important.

  Leppin was still standing near Minox, looking expectant. He was about to ask the bodyman what was concerning him when Mirrell interrupted.

  “Captain?” Mirrell asked. “We’ve got—”

  “Saints, what time is it?” Cinellan asked. “We should all be getting home. Especially you, Welling.” He pointed at Corrie. “You’ve been working two days straight, put in Ironheart, and you’re still here.”

  “Well, sir, I am on the blasted night patrol,” Corrie said. “I should have a horse under me right now.”

  “Like blazes,” the captain said. “You go home, and I don’t want to see you here for at least two whole days. Then come in at eight bells in the morning.”

  “Morning, sir?” Corrie asked.

  “Am I not speaking clearly, Welling? Eight in the morning. Dayshift needs a new sergeant on horsepatrol.”

  Corrie stammered for a moment. “I ain’t a rutting sergeant.”

  “You’re not?” The captain stepped closer to her. “You dive into a riot, fellow officer on your shoulder, almost lose an eye, get held hostage, and then knocked in the skull, and what do you do? Change your shirt and get a horse under you.” He w
inked at her. “That’s a rutting sergeant in my house. You agree?”

  “Blazes, yes, sir,” Corrie said.

  “Good. Now, all of you, get home.”

  “Cap!” Mirrell said. “We’ve got to deal with this.”

  “With what?” Cinellan asked.

  “With . . . Inspector Welling.”

  “This is not the time, Henfir.”

  “Begging pardon, sir,” Minox said. “I’m afraid it very much is the time. I am an Uncircled mage. I am a source of uncontrolled peril.”

  “Minox, don’t—” Nyla reached out to him.

  He raised up his hand—his dead, magicked hand—to ward her off. “It has been gross negligence on my part to act as if my untrained magical ability was of no import to my status as an inspector in this Constabulary House. Today has been definitive proof of that.” He looked over to Corrie. “I hurt you and Aunt Beliah.”

  “Barely,” Corrie said. “You’d have to try rutting harder to stop me.”

  “Not a moment for levity, Corrie,” Minox said. “Sir, my lack of control of my magic left me vulnerable, and it put me in a fevered and deranged state. I was a menace, sir. I was the very reason Circle Law exists.”

  “Hold on, now,” Captain Cinellan said. “Henfir, are you saying we need to put charges on him?”

  Mirrell hesitated. Despite the antagonism that festered between them, Minox knew Mirrell was not acting out of spite or cruelty. “No, I ain’t. But I do think we’ve got to have a formal Inquiry of Fitness.”

  “Just a damn minute,” Inspector Rainey said, charging back over. “Captain, you can’t possibly consider—”

  “I’m obliged to consider it, Trick,” the captain said. He sat down on one of the desks, rubbing his temples. “Fact is, I’ve been ignoring the idea as best I could for a long while now.”