Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “They’ll be meeting in one of the smaller chambers,” Sienna said. Emily had no idea how she knew that. “This way.”

  Emily followed her, looking around with interest. Someone had spent a great deal of money on the giant building, paving the floors with marble and lining the walls with paintings, each one showing a former guildmaster. She couldn’t help noticing that most of them were men, although a handful were definitely female. They all wore fancy robes, so fancy that Emily suspected they were copied from Zangaria’s aristocracy. And yet, anyone who became a guildmaster had to be competent. Family connections could only go so far.

  There was another pair of guards outside a door, one of them clearly a sorcerer. Emily tensed as she sensed a pair of spells probing at her, but relaxed as the door opened. The smaller chamber didn’t look friendly. Grand Guildmaster Jalil sat in a chair that looked like a throne, flanked by eight other men wearing guildmaster robes. General Pollack stood in front of them, next to two men Emily didn’t recognize. She couldn’t help thinking that the room looked like a courtroom, with the guildmasters acting as judges. It made her feel almost as if she’d done something wrong.

  The door closed, loudly.

  “Lady Emily.” Jalil sounded friendly, but there was an edge to his voice that made Emily look up and pay attention. “We have…invited…you here to answer some questions.”

  Emily resisted the urge to look at Sienna for support. She’d spent far too long answering questions after the war had ended, after Gaius had turned traitor and both Casper and the necromancer had been killed. This time, at least, she was fairly sure she didn’t have anything to hide. There were no secrets that could get her killed.

  “I understand,” she said.

  “I must also warn you that lying to the council, either directly or through omission, will be counted against you,” Jalil said. “If there are questions you do not wish to answer, you must say so.”

  Emily nodded, slowly. “Ask your questions.”

  Jalil paused, taking a moment to compose his first question. “We have been informed that you invested a considerable sum of money in Vesperian’s Track,” he said. “The figure mentioned was fifty thousand crowns. Is this true?”

  “No,” Emily said.

  One of the other guildmasters started to splutter. Jalil silenced him with a look and then turned back to Emily. “Did you invest any money in Vesperian’s Track?”

  “No,” Emily said.

  A guildmaster leaned forward. “We have been reliably informed that you did invest a substantial sum into the project. These reports…”

  “I was unaware that rumor was considered a reliable source these days,” Sienna said, before Emily could formulate a response. “Grand Guildmaster, point of order. Is that a legitimate question?”

  Jalil’s face darkened. “No,” he said. “Guildmaster Merriam, you will apologize.”

  Merriam looked down at Emily. “I apologize for my tone,” he said, bluntly. “On behalf of the ironworkers, however, I require a straight answer. Did you invest in Vesperian’s Track?”

  Emily forced herself to contain her irritation. “I have already answered that question,” she said coldly. “I did not invest any money in the project.”

  She paused, weighing her options. “It is true that Vesperian wanted me to invest. The figure mentioned was ten thousand crowns, not fifty. His offer seemed good, but I declined.”

  Another guildmaster met her eyes. “Can I ask why?”

  “I wanted to see the books before making my final decision,” Emily told him. “He refused to allow me to inspect them. Accordingly, I told him that I wouldn’t invest any money in his project. The rumors have no basis in fact.”

  And yet, someone might have started the rumors to stave off disaster for a few more weeks, she thought, grimly. Vesperian could certainly have lied to his other investors…

  Jalil looked grim. “What did you make of the project?”

  Emily hesitated. “I didn’t see the books.” She wasn’t sure she should answer the question. “All I have to go on is…is my gut feeling. And my gut feeling is that Vesperian tried to move forward far too fast. I didn’t think he had any reasonable hope of paying off his investors before it was too late.”

  Shock ran through the room. “I’ve invested thousands,” a guildmaster breathed. “I…”

  “You weren’t the only one,” Jalil said.

  “My guildsmen have invested too,” Guildmaster Merriam said. He was pale. “What will happen to them? Who owns the track now?”

  Good question, Emily thought.

  Jalil slammed the table. “We have to remain calm. We don’t even know the scale of the disaster…”

  “Vesperian owed my guild thousands of crowns,” Guildmaster Merriam said. “If that isn’t paid within the next few weeks, we won’t be able to make our own payments! We might not even be able to resell the iron rails, wooden ties and other railway truck items we produced for him, if we repossess them…”

  “Which we can’t, until we have a formal determination of who is owed what,” another guildmaster said. “This would never have happened on my watch!”

  “This isn’t the time for gloating, Harman,” Jalil snarled.

  “No,” Guildmaster Harman agreed. “But if Vesperian had hired a proper set of accountants, we might not be in this mess.”

  “You lost most of your business because you were taking advantage of your customers,” Merriam pointed out. “And now you expect us to trust you?”

  “I expect you to face the facts,” Harman said. “And the facts are that two-thirds of our entire population invested in the track. Some people invested a few crowns, others gave Vesperian their life savings. When it sinks in that all the money has vanished…what then?”

  Sienna nudged Emily. “Harman lost the post of Grand Guildmaster when the Accountants Guild took a hit,” she muttered, as the guildmasters began to squabble. “It was sheer luck he managed to keep his seat on the council. Being right isn’t always a good thing.”

  Emily nodded in agreement. The Accountants Guild had been corrupt – something that had only become evident when the New Learning had arrived, introducing the world to the joys of Arabic numbers and double-entry bookkeeping. And yes, it had been a brake on progress, ensuring that the money supply remained limited. But it had also made it impossible for Ponzi schemes to work. Vesperian would never have been able to attract so many investors before the Accountants Guild had collapsed.

  She looked back at Sienna. “What are they going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Sienna whispered. “I don’t think they know either.”

  General Pollack cleared his throat. “You need to decide how to proceed.” He stood in the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “You have asked me to take command of the City Guard, but I don’t have the manpower to control the streets if all hell breaks loose. Even with the Hands of Justice backing us, Guildmasters, I cannot even guarantee to protect this building.”

  Emily frowned. The Hands of Justice were backing the City Guard…?

  “Declare martial law,” Merriam snapped. “Tell the population to stay in their homes, or else.”

  General Pollack snorted. “Or else what? We don’t have the manpower to enforce that, sir.”

  “The investors want their money back,” a tired-looking man said. He was so colorless, his grey face matching his grey robes, that Emily wondered if he was ill. “But it will take years to calculate how much is actually owed, let alone to whom.”

  “Nonsense,” Merriam said. “Give the bastards their money.”

  The grey man shook his head. “Over the last twenty hours, my office has received over two hundred demands for immediate repayment and statements of claims on Vesperian’s estate. We lack even the basic data we need to calculate who is owed what. I don’t know if he kept an accurate register of who invested – and what notes they were given – but the notes have been swapped around so much that it will prob
ably be worthless. This is not a simple assessment, Guildmaster.”

  “And we’re running out of time,” General Pollack said. “How many people believe their notes will come due in--” he made a show of checking his watch “--seventeen hours?”

  “There are already lines forming outside his offices, demanding repayment,” Harman said, wryly. He sounded amused. “And what will happen when the notes are not repaid?”

  “Chaos,” Emily blurted.

  “Which we will be unable to control,” General Pollack said. He glanced at Emily, then back at Harman. “Right now, the sole thing standing between us and rioting is the belief that those notes will be repaid.”

  “And they can’t be repaid,” the grey man said. “Even if the paperwork is in order, it will take months to sort everything out…”

  “We don’t have months.” Harman nodded to General Pollack. “We have seventeen hours.”

  Merriam looked as if he wanted to panic. “Then tell them…tell them…”

  Jalil snorted. “Tell them what?”

  “Tell them that we are assessing the situation,” Harman said. “I can put together a team of accountants and take them to Vesperian’s offices. We can study his paperwork and put together a list of investors and debtors, then calculate the precise value of Vesperian’s assets.”

  “Confiscate his mansion,” a guildmaster suggested.

  “It doesn’t belong to him,” Merriam snapped. “He rented it.”

  “It isn’t uncommon for a freeze in payments to take place after someone’s death,” Harman continued. “Tell the investors that we will begin paying out once we know what is actually owed.”

  “They might not have the time,” General Pollack said, quietly. “How many people do you know who are depending on their notes being repaid tomorrow?”

  “Then tell them to wait,” Harman said.

  General Pollack looked back at him, evenly. “And what if they can’t wait?”

  Jalil slapped the table, hard. Everyone jumped.

  “We have a problem,” he said, sharply. “Right now, our sole priority is finding a way to solve the problem before we run out of time. We can assign blame and rewrite the laws later, once we have some breathing space. Vesperian’s death cannot be allowed to tear the city apart.”

  Emily winced, inwardly. She had a feeling it was already too late. Buying back the notes for face value was the simplest solution, but who had that sort of money? The only person she could think of who could afford such an investment was King Randor, yet she knew better than to expect him to solve the independent city’s problems without payment. He’d probably want to put a garrison in the city, for starters. Perhaps the guildmasters could put together a fund to buy the notes…

  Except those who didn’t invest will resent having to pay for those who did, she thought, grimly. And then they won’t be happy either.

  “Lady Emily,” Jalil said. “Would you be prepared to join the investigation team?”

  Emily took a moment to consider it. She was no accountant. Indeed, she had the feeling her appointment would rub far too many people the wrong way. And yet, figuring out just how much money Vesperian owed – and to whom – was the first step in defusing the time bomb before it exploded. If General Pollack wasn’t confident of controlling the streets, when the investors realized that none of the money would be repaid on schedule, she knew the riots were going to be bad. The rioters might even blame the guildmasters for the disaster.

  “I would,” she said. A thought struck her. “And I would like to propose that Markus be invited too.”

  “A banker,” Harman muttered.

  “He understands modern banking.” Emily had her doubts about Harman. The accountant had every reason to want to see the newfangled paper banking system collapse into rubble. “And I have faith in him.”

  “Very well.” Jalil looked at the grey man. “Harriman?”

  “I will serve,” Harriman said. “However, I do not expect quick results. This is an unprecedented situation. We do not even know – yet – who Vesperian named as his heirs.”

  “He had a son,” Merriam pointed out. “And a wife.”

  “And we don’t even know if the project is viable,” Harriman added. “If we seek to complete the project, sir, we have one set of decisions to make. But if we decide to wind it up and sell the remains to the highest bidder…”

  Emily groaned, inwardly. The railway line between Beneficence and Cockatrice was a wonder, even though the planned extension was almost certainly a financial disaster waiting to happen. She didn’t want to watch, helplessly, as it was broken down for scrap, the engines melted down and the railway lines torn up. Hell, merely selling the rails would send the price of iron plummeting. The accountants might not reclaim even a fraction of their paper worth.

  “We will assess the situation first,” Jalil said. “We will work out what actually happened to the money. And then we will decide what we want to do.”

  He looked at Emily. “Guildmaster Harman and Harriman will escort you to Vesperian’s offices.”

  “I can’t come with you,” Sienna muttered. “Be careful when you come home.”

  “I will,” Emily promised. “And thank you.”

  General Pollack moved to stand next to her and spoke quietly, pitching his voice so only she could hear. “Be very careful. The Guard has managed to keep a dampener on any major riots, but small fights are constantly breaking out all over the city. Too many people in bars, drinking themselves silly; too many rumors, each one worse than the last. Quite a few involve you.”

  Emily grimaced. “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not,” General Pollack said. He motioned for her to accompany him - and Sienna - out of the room. Sienna cast a privacy ward as soon as they were outside. “But you should know.”

  He sighed. “The most common rumor is that you either loaned or agreed to loan Vesperian a great deal of money. Each retelling credits you with ever more fantastical sums of money – right now, there are rumors that insist you loaned him millions of crowns.”

  “There isn’t that much,” Emily protested. “I am nowhere near that rich.”

  General Pollack shrugged. “Those are the decent rumors,” he said. “We have various rumors suggesting that you promised investment, only to pull it out at the last minute so the project would fail. Or that you charmed him into overextending himself so you could sneak in and claim the railway for yourself. And then we have suggestions that King Randor used you to destabilize the city so his armies could march in and take over. And then…”

  Emily scowled. She didn’t want to believe someone could think that of her, but she knew – all too well – that rumors grew in the telling. There was no internet on the Nameless World…not that the internet would have made things better. If anything, the internet would probably have made matters worse. By now, people were probably implying that she’d made a deal with the Necromancers and was working to undermine the Allied Lands from within.

  “I’ll send Caleb to join you too,” Sienna said. “You may need his help.”

  “Thanks.” Emily wasn’t sure if Caleb could help, but she knew she’d welcome his presence. And then another thought struck her. “General…is it wise to ask the Hands of Justice for help patrolling the streets?”

  “We’re short of manpower,” General Pollack said, grimly. “A third of the City Guard has decided it’s a good time to desert. Others bought notes of their own. We just don’t have many choices if we are to keep the streets relatively calm.”

  “It won’t last,” Sienna said. “Prices are already going up.”

  And then most of the population will be unable to buy food, Emily thought, numbly. There’ll be food riots.

  “You should ask the council to send out more fishing boats,” she said, instead. “That would keep the city going, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes,” General Pollack agreed. “But who will pay for the catch?”

  He scowled, his moustache q
uivering unpleasantly. “A number of boats have not returned. Either they’re still fishing…or they’ve gone to other ports. There are plenty of places along the coastline where a fishing boat can sell its catch without anyone official paying much notice. Fishermen have to eat too.”

  Emily shuddered. “They can eat,” she said, grimly. Were the fishermen being selfish – or practical? How long would the fishermen work if the council confiscated half their catch to feed the starving masses? “There must be something we can do.”

  “Yes,” General Pollack said. “We can solve this problem as quickly as possible.”

  He looked past her. “Good luck, Emily.”

  Emily turned. Harman was walking towards her, followed by Harriman. The accountant bowed politely to her, then nodded to the door. Emily readied her magic, testing a series of protective spells before saying goodbye to General Pollack and his wife. She hoped, despite herself, that Markus and Caleb joined her soon. She had the feeling that neither of the older men were going to be useful.

  “I’ll have my staff join us at the office,” Harman said.

  “I’m sure they will be helpful,” Harriman said. “Perhaps we can organize the paperwork quickly enough to start making payments soon.”

  Emily sighed, inwardly. She hoped Harriman was right.

  But she had a feeling he was being optimistic.

  Chapter Nineteen

  EMILY HEARD THE CROWD LONG BEFORE it came into view, a baying mass of humanity jeering outside the offices. Vesperian had purchased – or rented – a large building near the railway station, one that would have given anyone an aura of respectability in better times. Now, she hoped that anyone in the nearby buildings would have vacated the premises when things got ugly. The angry mob might not stop with Vesperian’s offices when – if – it gave in to the urge to destroy.