One Man

by Harry Connolly

  “I was there,” the constable said. “He saved us all.”

  Onderishta nodded, tears finally welling up. She took a deep breath and clenched her jaw, because she didn’t trust what she might say next.

  “Excuse me! Excuse me, let me through!” It was Trillistin, and he was drenched in sweat. “Ma’am, you’re wanted in High Slope. The Steward-General is arresting the Safroys for treason.”

  * * *

  Culzatik ward-Safroy defe-Safroy admir-Safroy hold-Safroy was hiding in his own home…

  There was a spot on the roof of the library that was accessible by ladder, although no one ventured up there but him. It overlooked the Timmer, which made it a pleasant place to get lost in a book.

  That’s what he was pretending to do now.

  A steel helmet appeared at the top of the ladder, then turned to show a scowling face. “He’s here.” He climbed onto the roof as quickly as his armor would allow.

  Culzatik was mildly surprised to see a sword at his hip where his truncheon should be. “What’s going on?” he asked, snapping his book shut.

  The next face to appear belonged to Pinfilas parsu-Yares ward-Yares admir-Yares tuto-Yares hold-Yares. He was an Elder of the High Watch, and he’d never had an original thought in his life. However, his ideas had come from reasonably intelligent people, which put him head and shoulders above the rest of his faction.

  And there was no cause for him to be wandering the Safroy compound. Culzatik moved toward him.

  The constable laid his hand on his sword. His expression was murderous.

  Aziatil was suddenly between them. Like a good bodyguard, she was always close, but he never had to think about her.

  “I wouldn’t,” Culzatik said. The constable glanced at him, then at small, slender Aziatil. The corner of his mouth curled.

  “Come down here,” Pinfilas said, and he wasn’t speaking to Culzatik. The constable hopped onto the ladder and went down.

  Culzatik followed. Aziatil startled them all by hopping down beside him.

  Pinfilas used a more respectful tone when he spoke to Culzatik. “Your virtue, I’m afraid you and your bodyguard must disarm.”

  “No.” Culzatik had no intention of following illegal orders, not here in his own home.

  Pinfilas had two constables with him. They shifted their stances as though about to move for her, but the noble shook his head. There was no legal difference between attacking a bodyguard and attacking the noble they protected, and Pinfilas was the type to observe the legal niceties. “If you would.”

  Culzatik let them lead him though the compound. Furniture was upended. Servants stood in doorways, whispering. Untended fires burned low. It looked like the aftermath of a robbery.

  The family sitting room was not for the family. It was a place to entertain guests, and currently it was crowded enough for a political luncheon.

  Except that Culzatik’s mother, father, and little brother were down on the parquet with their bodyguards and servants, while a group of gray-haired nobles and their functionaries stood up among the couches and tables.

  Essatreska was there. “Please, your virtue, I would like to be free again,” she said to a tall, elderly man with a magnificent head of gray hair. He accepted a document from her. She turned around so he could sign on her back. The old fellow seemed quite conscious of how close her rear end came to him.

  She took the signed document with a smirk, then moved toward her father, who looked dismayed and alarmed.

  Billentik rushed toward Culzatik. “Where have you—”

  Culzatik stopped him with a gesture. “Essatreska, my betrothed, I didn’t realize you were here.”

  “You’ve lost the right to call me that,” she answered, then pursed her lips to blow the signature dry.

  “Our advocate hasn’t even seen the dissolution agreement you just signed,” Mother said, stepping forward.

  “A cancelled betrothal is the least of your worries!” the old man snapped.

  Culzatik suddenly recognized him. It was Evenset defe-Presse admir-Presse hold-Presse, the Steward-General of Koh-Salash. The most powerful person in the city, and a political enemy of the Safroy family.

  “I ask again, will you disarm?” Evenset asked. “Will you allow these medical inspectors access to your wards?”

  “I answer again,” Mother said evenly, “not without formal charges. And we will only give access to the family inspectors. So, again, where are the family inspectors?”

  Clearly, the Steward-General was tired of the conversation. “In irons,” he said, with the dramatic timing of a stage actor. No wonder the nobles voted for him. He glanced over his shoulder at a distinguished woman in green. No one would mistake her for a gangster in magistrate’s colors. She was the real thing. “Along with your investigator. Which is how you will soon be, now that widespread rumors of your corruption have been thoroughly substantiated. After the incident in Low Market, the mad scramble your people have been conducting to retrieve your lost ward, and finding your husband here in full steel armor—”

  “Stop there,” Mother said. Evenset, the most powerful man in the city, did. She looked back at Father, who was indeed dressed in full armor. “Do we have a missing ward?”

  “I checked the moment the alarm was raised,” Father said. “We do not.”

  “Hah!” Evenset called. “Then why are you dressed for war, if not to recover your lost ward?”

  Father bared his teeth. “Didn’t you see that column of light? Every citizen—”

  Mother laid a gentle hand on his arm. “He’s not a ward-family. He doesn’t know what that light meant.” She turned to a servant. “Get my investigator.”

  The constables at the door glanced at the magistrate. She nodded, and they allowed the servant to pass.

  “So, I’m supposed to have a secret fourth ward, then, is that it?” Mother said. “With gangsters slivering portions, for some reason?”

  “For money,” Evenset said. “We’ve all heard rumors of your debts. You haven’t even been paying this lovely child’s bride price.”

  Essatreska smirked at Culzatik, as though daring him to say she’d asked him to delay payment. Ponnalas stepped around his daughter. “That’s… That’s not true!”

  No one paid attention to him.

  The door opened behind the Steward-General, and Onderishta was brought in. She held her head high, despite the heavy iron collar around her neck. Mother took a step forward, then stopped herself, clenching her hands at her side to control her anger. “Onderishta, can you give us a brief report, please?”

  The investigator walked down to the parquet and cleared her throat. “My second and I were investigating rumors that a new figure had taken over the gangs of Koh-Salash. I went after a tar cookery while he raided their reputed hideout. There was a glitterkind on site, and one of the heavies cut it too deeply. I don’t know why. Fay, my second, sent everyone away while he…”

  Her voice broke, and she took a moment to collect herself. Mother said, “So, he saved us all.” Onderishta nodded. “What then?”

  “Someone bashed in his skull and dumped him in an alley.”

  “Oh, no!” Culzatik cried. “Onderishta, I’m so sorry.”

  “You don’t fool me,” Evenset proclaimed. “Bring in the evidence!” Constables rushed from the room. “I find it telling that the moment this foreign ganglord was killed, your people went into a frenzy to reclaim his glitterkind. And when the medical bureaucrats tried to intervene, they were threatened with prison. I wonder what connections my investigator will find between this murdered foreign ganglord and your own murdered foreign investigator, hmm?”

  At that, Onderishta’s hands began to tremble with rage.

  Mother became calmer. “Let’s see this evidence.”

  There was a commotion as people began to push into the room. “This was found,” Evenset said, “in the street—the street, mind you—in Gray Flames. And it’s been branded with the Safroy mark.”


  The top medical inspector in the city, a woman who lived in her office, came through the crowd. She was ashen. Beside her were two constables pushing a tiny wheeled cart. A tiny, shrouded figure lay upon it.

  Silence fell over the room. The inspector ordered the constables to lower the table onto the parquet. When the Steward-General began to object, she snapped, “It must feel the sunlight right now.” Then she drew back the shroud.

  Goosebumps ran down Culzatik’s back when he saw just how small the glitterkind was.

  There was pandemonium for nearly half a minute. Even Pinfilas leaped down with surprising spryness for a man his age to help push the cart to the sunny balcony.

  Evenset looked confused. He’d expected outrage, not panic. With a glance back at the other members of the High Watch who’d come to support him—none of them ward-families, obviously—he cleared his throat and tried to take control of the scene. “And you can see the Safroy mark! That’s treason!”

  With the glitterkind positioned in the sun, the medical inspector bent low to look behind its ear. “Yes, there’s a Safroy bull here.”

  Pinfilas’s head quirked in surprise. Mother sidestepped to see for herself. “Indeed, there is a Safroy bull. But there’s one problem, General. We don’t mark our wards with a bull.” The room became still. “Billentik, take the inspector—and only the inspector—to see the wards so she can confirm the brands don’t match.” They hurried away.

  Evenset looked suddenly wary. Pinfilas approached so he could speak in a low voice. “General, we Yares didn’t brand our ward with the soaring gull. The brand is secret.”

  “What, then?” Evenset demanded. Pinfilas’s expression had stolen all his authority. “Is it fake?”

  “If you had spoken with the Safroys’ assigned medical inspectors,” Mother interrupted, “instead of collaring them, they could have cleared this up in a moment. Instead, you show up with wild accusations and fabricated evidence trying to trick a magistrate into charging me with treason.”

  “Trick? Now, see here! I would never… It wouldn’t even occur to me.”

  “Then who would believe we put the Safroy bull on our wards?”

  “Essatreska,” Culzatik said. “Where are you going?”

  All eyes turned toward the Phillien family. Ponnalas and Caflinna were in the same place, but Essatreska and her bodyguard were slinking toward the door.

  “Come forward,” Evenset said. She did, then adopted a demure pose. Evenset sighed. “How could this lovely creature—”

  Culzatik interrupted. “You Safroys put a bull on everything, she says. It’s like a joke between us: pin, belt buckle, shield. You Safroys put a bull on everything. One time, she asked if we put them on our wards, too. The way she said it made me a little uncomfortable, so I lied.”

  Evenset snorted. “You can’t mean that this child—”

  Culzatik walked toward her. “Ponnalas, hasn’t Essatreska’s bodyguard taken a lot of personal days lately? Bedler’s always away, isn’t he?”

  “Sen Pul Nat,” Onderishta said. Everyone turned to her. “He ran a brothel and casino called The Caves, and there was a box of jewelry in his countinghouse. I knew I recognized the pieces, but until now, I didn’t realize where. I’ve seen her wearing them. Once we show them around a few Upgarden shops, I’m sure we’ll find out who made them and who bought them.”

  “But it didn’t work, did it, Essatreska?” Culzatik stood beside her now. “You knew there was a Lost Ward in the city, but no matter who you bribed, you couldn’t get close to it. Then all this shit rained down, and your bodyguard finally saw his chance—a man carrying a glitterkind through the plankways of Koh-Salash, and I’ll bet he already had that iron brand in his pocket. I’ll bet he carried it everywhere. All he needed to do was seize that ward and mark it with the bull, and the only thing standing in his way was an honorable man who’d just averted a city-wide catastrophe.” Culzatik looked at Bedler and said, “Onderishta, do you think Fay’s wound would match the maul that Bedler—”

  Bedler’s fist smashed him in the middle of his face, but Culzatik was expecting it and rolled with the punch. From the floor, he said, “Alive.”

  In a single motion, Aziatil drew her long knives and slashed both of Bedler’s biceps. Then she plunged the points into his calves. His hammer, only half-drawn, clattered to the floor and he fell on top of it.

  Just like that, Bedler was done. Culzatik got to his feet and nodded his thanks to Aziatil. She pretended not to notice.

  Everyone was staring at Essatreska. For the first time since Culzatik met her, she seemed vulnerable. “I didn’t mean for things to go so far.”

  Ponnalas seized his daughter’s arm. “What have you done? Why?”

  She opened her mouth but couldn’t make words come out, so Culzatik said, “Pride. She loved the idea of marrying my brother but thought I was a poor substitute. Besides, with the dissolution signed before formal treason charges, any penalties would be paid to her before the High Watch could…”

  Evenset seized the document from her and tore it apart. Mother advanced on Ponnalas, teeth bared, but Culzatik waved her off. To his surprise, she stopped. “Someone take this collar off my investigator,” he said to no one in particular.

  “By the fallen gods,” Evenset said, “if I’d realized…” He looked around. Pinfilas had already left, and so had the other members of the High Watch.

  “It was me!” Bedler called. “I did everything. Essatreska didn’t know. I pressed the brand to the glitterkind. I stole her jewelry to… She had nothing to do with it.”

  The magistrate managed a thin smile. “You really get your money’s worth with these Free Cities bodyguards.”

  Culzatik turned to the Steward-General. “I’m satisfied by his confession. Aren’t you? Good. I’m glad. But it would be better for everyone if he didn’t stand trial.” To Bedler, he said, “The drop from that balcony is about twenty-five feet.”

  Bedler thought about that for a moment, but only a moment. He struggled to his feet and began limping toward the rail. He took a green scarf from his pocket and tied it over his eyes like a blindfold.

  Mother ordered Billentik to set up their spare scale for the new glitterkind. When the head medical inspector offered to help, no one dared object.

  Culzatik walked toward Ponnalas and his two daughters. Essatreska wore a stunned smile, as if she’d only just realized how close she came to execution. Ponnalas was sweating. Culzatik smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. Then he turned to the youngest daughter, Caflinna.

  “You never came over to see my new copy of The Kings of Koh-Benjatso and Their Wars.”

  Caflinna squeezed her bodyguard’s hand. She squeezed back. “I wanted to.”

  Mother had come close. “Come visit tomorrow,” Culzatik said. “You, too, Ponnalas. You can borrow it, and we could talk. Maybe even make a new arrangement that would unite our families peacefully.”

  Ponnalas looked so grateful that he could weep.

  Onderishta approached, rubbing her neck where the collar had pinched. “That man killed Fay, and he’s not going to stand trial? He gets to punish himself?”

  “I’m sorry,” Culzatik said. “He deserves the pitch and flame, but a trial would ruin the Phillien family, and we need them.”

  The look she gave Culzatik was stony. Then she picked Bedler’s maul off the floor and started after him.

  “Perhaps we should clear this room,” Mother said, and they were nearly through the door when they heard the blow fall.

  Culzatik retreated to his library, but he couldn’t focus. Instead, he sat and looked out over the Timmer as night fell.

  The stars were bright when Onderishta returned. She still wore her stony expression. Culzatik wasn’t sure if she was grieving or angry with him. Or both. She carried a long, wrapped bundle.

  “They found iron shavings beneath Bedler’s bed. He’s been posthumously convicted of branding the glitterkind and of Fay’s murder.”

  �
��Good.”

  “Mirishiya planted that evidence, didn’t she? That’s why you asked me to take on a burglar. That was the errand she ran for you.”

  “You went to the Phillien compound?”

  “Trillistin was there. I knew he came from a servant’s family, but I didn’t know which one. He warned the Philliens about the treason charges, didn’t he?”

  “He did. If the Philliens were ruined in a scandal, his mother would have been cast out of the kitchens. And he’s the reason that Essatreska and Bedler were right here when everything went wrong for them. He was only protecting his mother.”

  Onderishta looked over the dark waters. “I’m keeping her. He’s going back to the tower. He’s a smart kid, but I can’t have apprentices who spill secrets, even for their mother’s sake.” There was a pause. “Did you know Bedler was going to kill Fay?”

  “I didn’t. I swear it.”

  “But you put a Phillien spy inside my investigation.”

  “The one doesn’t connect with the other.” He sounded surer than he felt.

  She stared at him for a moment. “We picked up that scarred fellow you wanted to talk to—the Broken Man—but he slipped away from thirty constables with a little girl and an unconscious man. Don’t ask me how. All we have is his weapon.”

  She laid the bundle on the table and unwrapped it. It was a rough iron bar as long as his arm.

  Culzatik was disappointed, but he wasn’t sure why. “I still want to talk to him, if you get another chance.” She nodded. “Onderishta, there should be a service for Fay. A ceremony. The man saved all of us. The next Mourning Day is a long way off, but the whole city should stand for him.”

  She didn’t respond immediately. “Your virtue, you were very clever.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The problem with being clever is that it gets good people killed. Next time, don’t be clever. Be smart.”

  She left.

  Culzatik sat for a moment, then surged to his feet. Who was she to speak to him this way? Be smart? Hadn’t he just upended a scheme to have his mother executed for treason? The Safroys had a fourth ward now—one they couldn’t sliver for a generation, but still. The Steward-General had just made a fool of himself, moving Mother’s faction closer to winning back control of the High Watch.