by Jackson Lear
“Commander Lavarta and Lady Kasera Lavarta, how good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Mr Pelus.” Handshakes between them all.
“How have you been?” asked Alysia.
“In good health, thank you. You’re looking well. How are your studies going?”
“I’m up to my eyeballs in books and lectures.”
“Ah, I wish I could say that it gets easier but you have set a very high bar for yourself. Is Professor Nara still at the university?”
The pleasantries continued for a moment. I whispered to Zara. “I’m assuming the governor will make a grand entrance later rather than sooner?”
She smiled politely and nodded. “This is all part of the dance. Caton used to be the governor’s personal secretary. That required him to engage with the guests and keep them occupied, see what’s new and what topics of conversation might be of interest to the governor. He’ll keep track of how much everyone has had to drink and when he feels as though everyone is nice and relaxed he will excuse himself, relay this all to the governor, and the governor will emerge.”
“And the governor’s wife?”
“The longer the pleasantries go on for the less likely she is to come down.”
“Shy?”
“Bored, mostly, and she’s been having a harder time trying to hide that fact as of late.”
“Why’s that?”
“Not every arranged marriage is a match made in heaven.” Zara lifted herself up an inch. “It’s our turn.”
I rotated away, faked a scratch of my chin and instead licked my palm.
“Mr Pelus,” said Zara, extending her hand politely.
“Oh, Caton, please. You’re looking well, Zara.”
“Thank you. May I introduce a recent arrival into Torne?”
He and I locked eyes. His look was pleasant enough. Mine was already bored with his bullshit.
“Caton.”
“Raike.”
“A pleasure.” He extended his hand. A firm grip. Confident. Warm. Dry. I squeezed back, the fine film of saliva rubbing onto his palm. He didn’t react to it in the slightest. “I thought I knew the Lavarta security personnel but your arrival has come as a fortuitous surprise. How has your time with the family been so far?”
“Eventful. I’ve been looking into Artavian’s death to judge the potential fallout of unearthing those who conspired to kill him versus allowing his death to pass as an unfortunate necessity.”
One of his eyes shifted ever so slightly. Almost towards a grimace. “Straight to the point. I like it. Who asked you to do that?”
“I did.”
He recovered, seemingly amused by my presence. “You must forgive me for how this looks. I can understand Miss Zara’s presence here but your arrival has thrown me at a loss. It is usually unnecessary for a commander to require a man of your talents, not unless you came cheap. I take it you are not a citizen?”
“You can take it however you like. Right now I am a concerned member of your society. None of us are a thorn in your side, although there have been some quiet threats which have caught my attention.”
“Threats?”
I gave him a solemn nod. “And while Artavian’s death might be passed off as one of these things, threatening others is something I don’t dismiss lightly.”
He held himself as the perfect gentleman, which gave more of him away than he was aware of. “What exactly are you doing here, Mr Raike?”
“The governor invited me. I was particularly moved by his invitation and couldn’t refuse.”
“I’m afraid you may feel a little lost when dinner begins. The governor is quite the Teluci-phile and conducts most of his personal dealings in Telucian. Though I’d be happy to translate things during the entrés, at least. After all, it seems as though the military has made progress in their investigation into Artavian’s demise.”
“Ah, I did wonder why I was invited to dine with the most powerful man in the province.”
Caton smiled much like how a snake would. Tight lips, no warmth in his eyes. “If you’ll excuse me.” He left me in peace.
Zara shot a look at me. Also tight lipped and with little warmth in her eyes. “You make for a terrible infiltrator.”
“I’m in the governor’s home and he already knows my name. No infiltration necessary.”
“You know that he can exile you from the province, right?”
“Yeah, and the tattoos that come with it are a free pass into just about any mercenary company in the world. Besides, they’ll have to catch me first.”
“They’ve already caught you. Look around. Under penalty of five years in prison, if the governor tells the commander to arrest you right here with a reasonable suspicion that you have committed a crime, the commander has to do it. How many crimes do you think the people around this table are aware of you committing? You’re a lamb to the slaughter and no one can help you.”
“You could.”
“I’m flattered you think so highly of my skills, but I already know you, so no, I’m not going to help you. Not amongst this crowd.”
Caton disappeared around the corner, presumably to tell the governor that his guests are ready.
I turned to Zara. “Are you a gambling woman?”
She drew in a deep, uneasy breath. “I would smoke you if I was. Why?”
“This ‘progress’ Caton was talking about in the investigation. I’d wager that they’ve found a patsy to take the fall. Hopefully it’s not me. My question is: did they catch him in Torne or Verseii?”
“Torne.”
“Assuming it isn’t me?”
“It is you. That’s the progress they’ve made.”
“Even though I am far from being a patsy?”
“You said it was a patsy. Caton said it was progress. Either way, they’ve probably found a witness who can describe you perfectly. Or the commander mentioned some of his concerns about you to a confidant who relayed it to Caton. Have you considered that the commander may have made a deal to spare his family a lot of suffering by handing you over and testifying against you?”
“How would that help?”
“Simple. How did the assassin kill Artavian?”
“In all likelihood, he snuck into Artavian’s bedroom, pinned him down with enchanted cloth, and poured a jug of bile down the man’s throat until he choked to death.”
“Even though you weren’t there you’re confident that’s how it happened?”
“Very.”
“Exactly. You know the details of Artavian’s murder. So does the assassin. You were in Verseii the night Artavian died. You told the commander all of this, didn’t you?”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. All they need now are a couple of witnesses placing you in Verseii. Do you think that will be difficult?”
“Not at all. I was a familiar face at the magistrate’s office.”
“Wonderful. And if someone finds out that the inn you stayed at was close to the one Artavian died in?”
“How about if they knew I was inside the same inn he died in?”
Zara froze, drawing in a cold, sharp breath as Alysia and Lavarta milled about, talking quietly to each other. “You weren’t.”
“And you know who saw me there? Half of the stewards who sat with Artavian that night, trying to cheer him up.”
“Impossible.”
“Not impossible at all. I had apprehended a bounty and was looking for his inn, so I went door to door looking for anyone who knew him. The moment I saw the fellas in their military outfits I turned and left.”
Zara muttered under her breath. “You could’ve told us that earlier.”
Caton returned. Just behind him came Lieutenant Gustali with a twenty year old woman by his side. Lithe to the point of being skeletal and already bored, she seemed more like a model that sculptors would use to design their creations. The lieutenant though was a swaying, giddy, bombastic spectacle of laughs and euphoria.
Caton introduced the pair
to Alysia and Lavarta. He did not introduce them to Zara or myself.
I’ve worked with half a dozen Lieutenant Gustali’s in the past. If the company was hired to safeguard someone’s home in anticipation of an intrusion, the Lieutenant Gustali’s of the world would break into the stores of liquor and insist that we needed to lighten up. If he went on a tirade against your people, status in life, or trade and you called him out on it, he would insist that it was all a joke and you’re taking it wrong. If I slighted him at all five years ago, he would still hold a grudge about it to this day.
I whispered to Zara. “I can see why the commander wanted to build two forts instead of repairing one.”
Zara said nothing.
The lieutenant pulled on Alysia’s hand, kissed her fingertips, and held on as he regaled her with some bullshit. His fiancée rolled her head to one side, not saying a word, no doubt deciding that she wasn’t going to say anything for the rest of the evening.
“How come they’re not married yet?” I asked.
“She’s not his first fiancée. Nor even his second.”
“Foul play?”
“Cold feet.”
The lieutenant finally dropped Alysia’s hand.
A member of the staff came to a stop at the entry way of the dining room. “Ladies and Gentlemen, please? Governor Antonio Gustali.”
A man shorter and rounder than I expected waddled into the room. A truly bizarre gray neck beard jutted out to cover his many chins, a beard that had been recently shaved across his cheeks. The top of his speckled head was as bald as my freshly shorn chin, while the sides still sported enough hair that he had tried to sculpt it over his crown to make him appear – at best – a year younger than he actually was. I’d wager a guess that he had gone gray and bald from a young age and had yet to give in to his fate.
I’m sure he wore a belt around his crimson tunic, though from front-on it was impossible to see, since his gut drooped towards his knees. In one hand was a lit pipe, the wisps of smoke dancing in the air as he gestured wildly with every labored breath.
“Commander Lavarta! And Lady Lavarta! Welcome. So good of you to join me this evening.”
I wondered when, if ever, he would look my way. Surely he knew I was there. Zara as well. Yet he seemed to only look at four people in the room: his son, his future daughter-in-law, and the Lavartas.
The commander remained as stiff as a door, lifted one fist to his chest, and promptly blew some smoke up the governor’s ass. “My Protector. Thank you for welcoming my wife and me into your home.”
Then it hit me. This governor was also supposed to be a general.
Zara tugged on my arm, drawing me towards the rabble. The lieutenant waved his hand towards the table. Everyone made their way to the preassigned seating without having to consult with anyone else. I knelt down at the table and sat crossed-legged. Glances came my way. Zara extended one foot and guided my knees and feet into position.
The boredom began. The governor leaned back on one elbow and began rambling in Telucian while using his pipe to punctuate several presumably interesting details. I had heard a smattering of the language before but only a sentence or two at a time. This time it was a full blown monologue. Eloquent and rhythmic like the man relished speaking it over the functionality of Isparian. There was definitely some guttural coughs in some of the words, mixed with elongated vowels. The only time he used hard consonants were in the few Isparian words that had no translation in Telucian.
Caton whispered beside me. “My guests, welcome. Thank you for joining me and my family on this evening. Even though we gather from all walks of life and have traversed many different roads, I trust that we can put our faith in each other as united citizens under Markolo VIII and as nobles of Ispar.”
People bowed their heads in a show of respect. Odd, considering that most of them were only too happy to complain about the emperor the moment they were behind closed doors.
The governor – and thus Caton – rambled on. We were introduced. Mostly introduced. Only the governor and I remained unmentioned. A glowing account of the lieutenant’s fiancée’s family was received with nods of approval; the daughter of a ship builder who constructed one of Ispar’s largest naval fleets and who was rewarded with a senator’s title.
I learned a little of Lavarta’s family as well; the first Lavarta ever recorded served in General Cormier’s army back in the day. A question of, “How is your mother?” with no mention of his father.
Praise was ushered onto Alysia as one of the brightest minds of the city’s council and definitely someone to keep an eye on.
A brief mention was given to Zara; even with the governor looking forward to the day that he could welcome her as a citizen of the empire. She bowed graciously.
After learning that Lieutenant Gustali will one day be one of the empire’s finest generals and that Caton has secured yet another year of financial surplus for the city, we all had a moment to drink some wine.
Gustali turned to address Lavarta. Still spoke in Telucian. Still translated by Caton. “I do apologize for bringing the cohort away from the north at such short notice. You are aware of the problems facing us because of Arlo?”
“I have read some troubling reports, Mr Protector.”
Alysia said, “Me too. What exactly is going on?”
Gustali sipped some more of his wine. “Governor Dorma has been uniquely aggressive at driving out the sludge that has infected his cities. Hired thugs, murderers, thieves, and the like. But his forces can only maintain watch over a limited number of roads and, to protect the cities leading directly towards Ispar, he has reinforced those roads as a priority, leaving anyone to flee the region with only two options: risk fighting the barbarians in the wildlands, or tempt fate in Syuss. As Torne lies closest to the border of Arlo we have no other choice but to maintain a heightened presence of security to ensure the threat of the underworld thugs and miscreants does not drag us into ruins.”
Lavarta asked: “How can the cohort help?”
“Eh, Caton has all the details.” The governor returned to his wine.
Caton answered. Annoyingly, he answered in Telucian. Zara translated in Isparian. “The Fourth Cohort are due for some training in the coming weeks. We have asked the–”
All eyes shot towards Alysia as a delay in translation was still making its way to me.
“–Twelfth Army to secure the border between us and Arlo.”
Alysia sat up quickly. “General Kasera’s army?”
“Yes, ma’am. They should begin arriving shortly.”
“… I was not aware of this.”
“The order was sent today. The army will have full authority to stop anyone they see as suspicious, question them, search them, and detain them even. Hidden weapons will lead to an immediate arrest, as will drugs and poisons carried on their person. Anyone with a penchant for violence, thievery, breaking and entering, and for disrupting the lives of law-abiding citizens. Special measures will be employed against anyone who has specifically targeted members of the imperial army, all the way from privates, sergeants, lieutenants, and beyond.”
“Are you looking for anyone in particular?” I asked.
Caton responded in Isparian. “As it happens, we would like to begin by finding the man recently seen in Verseii, the one who tried to enter the same inn as our stewards. We believe the same person went so far as to rob Commander Lavarta’s aide-de-camp and even terrorized one of the commander’s most distinguished sergeants in the dead of night. Whoever he is, his crimes will catch up to him soon enough.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Despite the threat of a grisly death, dinner was actually quite nice. I have no idea what we ate, except that there were several meat dishes with a red sauce, white sauce, or green sauce. Meat was presented in long strips of poultry, fat strips of beef, and round balls that must’ve been stuffed with exotic herbs.
If it was an evening of finding the odd man out, no one would’ve lost any mo
ney betting on who it was supposed to be. I was pretty sure that even at eight years old most of the guests here would’ve known more about fine dining than I did. Everyone seemed to know what to do except for me and – like the assholes they relished in being – they knew when to change things up just when I had gotten the hang of something.
Our first dish was some kind of red soup. Back in the company I would’ve been asked to slap Chef stupid for serving us something as pathetic as this, but assuming that this was intentional and that more was coming we would typically eat our soup by picking up the bowl and bringing it to our lips. Did they do that here? No. I kept my eyes on Zara and Alysia, watching for their cues, and found myself with a big metal spoon in my hand. Wait … not that spoon … that one. Okay. Victory achiev … wait, now I have some hard bread in my hand. A spoon in one hand and bread in the other. Easy. Except there seemed to be some protocol along with the spoon. I was supposed to blow on my soup. Why? Who knew, because it certainly wasn’t scolding. And I was dipping my bread once … okay, only once, into my soup. Taking a bite. No problem. Except the governor, lieutenant, and commander seemed to have an extra dipping station at the ready with salt. They dipped their bread into the soup, took a bite, then into the salt, into their mouths, and … no one seemed to continue using the piece of bread. They simply moved onto the next piece. Odd.
It may seem laughable to the high-borns who have grown up with these customs, but I’d like to see how well they would fit in with the low-lifes I grew up with. You might think that all you had to do was shun all manners and belch with every laugh, but there is still a way of doing things to fit in. If you’re insulted you insult them back – and you better do it well – unless they’re actually pissed off at you or they’re the boss, in which case you keep your mouth shut. You only pour someone a drink if you’re in sight of them, and then they get to choose which of the two they will have. And starving a member is a viable way of encouraging them to leave the company.
