Dragon Precinct (20 page)

Torin laughed. “Good. I think that is a fine way to end this day.”

The next morning, Torin arrived at the squad room—a bit late, as usual—and noted that Danthres was still smiling. “Have a good night?” he asked.

Sergeant Jonas came out of his lair, shuffling his parchments, before Danthres could answer. “About time you arrived, ban Wyvald.”

“Long morning,” he said as he hung his cloak up next to Danthres’s.

“Well, there aren’t any pastries left. I told my wife to make fewer so you wouldn’t get any if you came in late.”

“Congratulations, Jonas,” Danthres said, “you may have found an incentive for him to arrive on time.”

The sergeant simply dipped his quill in an inkwell and looked at Dru and Hawk, their desk laden with scrolls. “You two are still on spell duty, yes?”

“Nice bit’a deducin’ there, Sarge.” Dru didn’t even look up from the pile of scrolls on his desk.

“Yeah,” Hawk said, “I figure we’ll be through with these some time before Iaian retires. Maybe.”

Dru snorted. “Nah, this is gonna take more’n two years.”

“Fine,” Jonas said, making a note on one of his parchments. “You two’ll be okay with that. Iaian, Grovis, you’ll have to talk to the magistrate today, obviously, then head down to Mermaid.”

“Mermaid?” Iaian asked. “What for?”

“What do you think? You two were the ones who cracked the new corruption ring, so you two get to investigate it.”

Iaian winced. “Oh, no.”

“It will be our pleasure, Sergeant,” Grovis said with an animated smile that made Torin wince. “Such malefactors amidst the Guard’s own ranks cannot be tolerated. I can assure you that Lieutenant Iaian and I will spare no effort in weeding these bad apples from the mighty tree that is the Cliff’s End Castle Guard.”

Iaian glowered at his partner. “You don’t weed apples.” Then he looked at Jonas. “Why do
we
have to catch this one?”

“I told you, you two exposed it. It’s procedure, you know that.”

Sighing, Iaian said, “I just hate investigating other guards.”

“Whyever for?” Grovis asked, sounding genuinely confused. “If they are abusing their authority—”

“Remember what I said yesterday about you not understanding, boy?”

“If you wish,” Grovis said archly, “I shall take the lead in the investigation.”

“In your dreams, boy.” Iaian leaned back in his chair. “Mermaid. More damn fish.”

“First, the magistrate,” Jonas said. “And that leaves ban Wyvald and Tresyllione up next.”

Danthres stood up. “What? Don’t
we
have to talk to the magistrate, too?”

“What for?” Jonas seemed genuinely confused.

“Cast your mind back to yesterday,” Torin said tightly. “You might recall that we incarcerated a murderer.”

“Oh, that,” Jonas said dismissively. “The Brotherhood’s taking care of that.”

“What?” Danthres and Torin said in unison.

“Yeah, some fellow from the Brotherhood came last night and took your man away.” He ran through his parchments, and finally found one, which he put in front of Danthres. “They’re taking care of it.”

Reading the parchment aloud, Danthres said, “ ‘The Brotherhood of Wizards claims jurisdiction over the murders of Gan Brightblade, Olthar lothSirhans, Mari, and Nari, as it involves the use of forbidden magicks. The Cliff’s End Castle Guard is relieved of all responsibility.’ ”

“Hey, less paperwork,” Iaian said.

“I’m sure,” Grovis said, “that the Brotherhood will handle the case with all discretion.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Danthres said.

“Everyone in the city-state’s going to want to know when Gan Brightblade’s murderer is going to be hanged,” Torin said. “What’re we supposed to tell them?”

From Osric’s office came the captain’s voice. “Whatever you want—except the truth, of course. Heaven forfend we tell anyone someone’s using crappy magic, or whatever it’s called.”

Torin turned to see that Genero and Ubàrlig were standing behind Osric. “It is outrageous,” the priest said. “Our friends killed, and
this
is the justice we receive?”

“Well, Brother,” Danthres said, “if you had been a bit more forthcoming with us in the first place—”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Torin said with a sigh. “It just would have meant the Brotherhood would’ve stuck their beards into it sooner.”

“By the way, that isn’t all this little directive says.” Danthres read on. “ ‘Any concerns about Chalmraik the Foul should be disregarded. Chalmraik is even less of a concern than ever he was, and any pursuit of this deceased wizard will be viewed as a hostile act by the Brotherhood.’ ” She looked up at Genero. “I think that last was directed at you two.”

“This is outrageous,” Genero repeated. “We should—”

The dwarf put a hand on the priest’s arm. “Not do a damn thing. What’re you, stupid? The Brotherhood’s threatened us; Gan, Mari, Nari, and the stupid Ear are all dead. What’re we supposed to do—find Chalmraik and hope Bogg drowns him in drool? That’s about our best bet now, Genero.”

Torin smiled grimly. “You should listen to the general, good Brother Genero. He is wiser than he looks.”

“Well, that wouldn’t take much,” Danthres muttered.

“Perhaps you are right,” Genero said.

Osric stared at the priest with his one good eye. “He’s very right. There’s been enough foolishness in my city these last few days, I’m not about to let you add to it, even if you are the Lord and Lady’s guests. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, you do, Captain,” Ubàrlig said quickly before Genero could say anything. “Let’s go, old friend.”

Torin watched them depart the squad room. “Those two are going to have a lot to work out, I think.”

Danthres snorted. “It’s what they get for trying to take the law into their own hands.”

“How profound,” Torin said dryly.

“It’s true! If they just trusted people to do their jobs instead of deciding they needed to determine the fate of Flingaria themselves, this would never have happened.”

“Yes, but—”

“All right, that’s enough.” Osric interrupted what Torin thought was going to be a very good point. “Back to work. Jonas?”

Jonas shuffled more parchments, even as Osric went back into his lair.

Torin looked expectantly at Jonas. “So what do we have?”

“Well, Mermaid’s reporting a rash of robberies of some merchants down by the docks. You two’ll have to check that out. Oh, and a theatre company’s coming into town tonight.”

Torin winced. “Oh, no.”

“That’s right,” Jonas said with a nod, “that means increased crowding, more bar brawls, more traffic on Sandy Brook, and possible riots if the performances are lousy enough.”

“It’s not the same people who did
The Ballad of King Ytrehod,
is it?” Torin asked.

Jonas shuffled his parchments. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Then there’s a chance it’ll be tolerable.”

“Oh, and the Temisan church is glowing.”

Danthres chuckled. “Brother Genero’s outrage, no doubt.”

“Maybe, but you never know with gods. Dragon’s put some extra patrols around there, just in case.”

Rising from his chair, Torin immediately retrieved his cloak, wondering why he’d bothered to take it off in the first place. He also grabbed Danthres’s. “Come on,” he said, “let’s head down to the Docklands, see what we can find out about these robberies.”

Also getting up, Danthres said, “Might as well, yes, since our quadruple murder has been yanked out from under us.”

“Speaking of which,” Torin said, “you still owe me three coppers.”

“What?” Danthres asked, sounding confused.

“Brightblade’s murder. You bet me three coppers it was a bar brawl.”

“Are you still harping on that?”

“ ‘Harping’? Might I remind you that
you’re
the one who made the wager in the first place?” Torin shook his head as they moved toward the castle’s exit. “Tell you what, I’ll forgive the debt if you tell me what, precisely, happened last night.”

Danthres smiled again. It looked good on her. “I’ll think about it.”

And with that, they proceeded into the city-state of Cliff’s End to do their jobs.