Wrath of the Fury Blade

by Geoff Habiger

  While at the crime scene, Ansee had stored all of the magical auras in the room using small quartz crystals after the Green Cloaks had left. These ‘aura flasks’ helped to preserve the auras before they faded, but the flasks were too fragile to be a permanent record. He needed to transfer the auras to larger crystals for safe storage and to maintain the chain of evidence, something Ansee took seriously even if other Seekers didn’t.

  “Second, meet with Alchemist Bromide down in the Feedshed,” the Inspector referred to the old granary that had been converted into the Alchemists’ offices and laboratory. “I need you to collect any personal effects that she’s taken off of the body. Also, see if she’s had time to determine if all the blood on the dagger came from our victim or if he got in a lucky strike against his attacker.”

  Ansee nodded again. Personally, he was dubious of the Alchemists and some of their concoctions. They claimed that they could use different elixirs and decoctions to be able to tell blood from different people apart. This seemed highly unlikely to Ansee. In magic, all blood was the same. If each person’s blood is different, why doesn’t it affect spells in different ways? It didn’t make any sense.

  “Third, you need to get with Senior Constable Ghrellstone and make sure that he’s begun transcribing the notes from his interviews with the servants.” She paused and set a small leather-bound book down on the table. Ansee recognized the notebook she’d used earlier at the Magistrate’s home. Now he could see that the cover had the words ‘Remember if you didn’t write it down, it didn’t happen!’ painted above a grinning caricature of an elephant. The notebook looked old and very well used, with the spine creased and cracked and the paint fading.

  Ansee failed to suppress a chuckle.

  “What was that, Seeker?” the Inspector asked reproachfully. She looked at the notebook. “I’ll have you know this was a gift from my father.”

  “Yes, Inspector.”

  Reva glowered at him before opening it up. “Fourth, you need to transcribe my notes from our interview with the Magistrate’s wife and his butler.”

  The wife, Lady Thalice fey Avecath, had been in tears, almost a hysterical state, and had needed two glasses of honey wine to be able to calm herself enough to talk to them. She’d not provided much information. She had not seen her husband after they had dined that evening. He’d disappeared to his study and she had been instructing the servants on how to get the house ready for a party. She never went to the study, calling it, “a dreadful architectural blight” on her beautiful home. Husband and wife had separate bedrooms and she rarely knew what he was doing.

  The butler hadn’t been much more helpful. He’d been running an errand to pick up the Magistrate’s clothes for the party. The Constable Inspector had questioned the elf about that; picking up clothes in the middle of the night? The butler had replied that it was an exclusive shop, his tone telling Ansee that he didn’t consider the two of them to fit into that “exclusive” group.

  The butler had returned mid-evening, had laid out the clothes for the party, then retired to bed. The Magistrate had standing orders to not be disturbed when he was working in his study. When the Magistrate did not arrive for the morning meal, the butler had gone to investigate. He’d found blood seeping under the door but had been unable to open it, and had sent servants to go get tools to remove the door and to send for a Constable.

  “One last thing,” Inspector Lunaria said. “I need you to start researching any references to a black blade—sword, axe, dagger—whatever. We need to know what kind of weapon our killer is using.”

  Reva stood up from the stool.

  “What will you be doing?” Ansee asked without thinking.

  “Me?” She gave him a cold look. “I’m going home. It’s my day off, remember?”

  Ansee couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open. “Inspector, I am not your servant! I am a Seeker and I expect you to give me the respect that my rank and experience have given me!” He tried to keep his voice down, but failed. “It’s insulting the way you keep comparing me to Seeker Rubus and constantly pick on me because I happen do things differently than she did them. She is not here anymore. I am. I am your partner, and you need to treat me like one!”

  Ansee stopped talking, realizing that the stable had gone quiet.

  “Are you done?” asked Reva.

  “Yes,” Ansee replied a bit defiantly. He wasn’t going to be intimidated.

  “Reva!” First Constable Aescel called from his office doorway. “You and your new Seeker get your asses in here!”

  Reva gave Ansee a “now see what you’ve done” look and walked across the stable, Ansee following. They entered the office and Ansee closed the door.

  “What the hell was that outburst about, Seeker Carya?” the First Constable snapped.

  “Just a disagreement, sir. It was nothing.” Ansee flushed a bit and licked his lips, but managed to look Aescel in the eyes.

  “Hell of a loud nothing.”

  “Seeker Carya was gently reminding me that I need to stop comparing him with Seeker Rubus,” Reva said.

  “Well, Cas was one of a kind,” Aescel admitted. He held up his hand to fend off Ansee’s protest. “Seeker Rubus was one of our best, and unfortunately you’ve stepped into some rather large boots, Seeker Carya. If you can’t stand the comparisons, let me know now so I can transfer you back to Nul Pfeta.”

  Ansee glanced at Inspector Lunaria; she was looking at him questioningly. She probably is wondering the same thing, he thought. He looked back and met the First Constable’s eyes. “No, sir. That won’t be necessary.” He straightened as he told himself, I’ll do better than Seeker Rubus ever did.

  “Good.” Aescel sat down in his chair, satisfied that the matter was resolved. “How bad was it?” he asked Reva.

  She gave him a summary of the scene. The First Constable winced at her description of the body, but otherwise listened quietly. Reva explained what they’d learned from their inspection, interviews, and the Speaking ritual, which wasn’t much.

  “And you were right,” Reva concluded. “The Green Cloaks showed up. That damn Malvaceä swept in and accused me of treason for doing my job. He took a lot of evidence with him—papers and such from the Magistrate’s desk. He shoved a document with the King’s seal on it in my face, saying it contained orders from the King, but he wouldn’t let me look at it. I’d bet a week of Ansee’s pay” Ansee gave the Inspector a shocked look, “it was a fake authorization. Not that I could call him on it.”

  The First Constable gave Reva a “what do you expect me to do about it” look. “Do you think the documents they took can tell us anything about who killed the Magistrate?” he asked.

  Reva hesitated and replied, “Probably not. But I won’t know for sure unless I look. Maybe he received a threatening note or the murder is linked to something he is working on.” Reva knew she was just blowing leaves but she didn’t care. She hated that the Sucra could so blatantly interfere in an investigation.

  “I’ll send a request to LCI Gania and see if she can request the documents once the Sucra has made sure that they contain nothing sensitive.”

  “Great,” Reva flung up her hands, sarcasm heavy. “We’ll just get back a bunch of blank pieces of parchment.”

  “It’s the best I can do, Constable Inspector,” Aescel said with a trace of sympathy. “What is your plan going forward?”

  Reva sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to get more help with the Sucra’s interference. She quickly outlined what she had told Ansee out in the stable, but this time the list was amended to include Reva on some of the tasks. Ansee’s eyes widened in surprise. When she’d finished, the First Constable nodded his approval.

  “Keep me apprised of what you learn,” Aescel said in dismissal.

  Reva and Ansee saluted and walked out of the cramped office. Reva grabbed Ansee’s arm and pulled him to the l
anding of the back stairwell.

  “Look,” she said. “Cas was a great Seeker and a damn good friend.”

  Ansee sighed and crossed his arms, ready for the next comparison.

  “And it wasn’t fair of me to make comparisons between you and her,” Reva continued. “You have every right to call me on it. But not in public.” She pointed toward the stable. “You can chew my ass any time in private, but in public we have to be a team. Got it?”

  “Yes, Contable Inspector.” Ansee was getting doubts about deciding to stay.

  “It’s Reva,” she said with a slight smile. “And I’m really not such an ogre, despite what some of them,” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder to the stable, “say. Listen. My family has been in this business for generations and we have a lot of traditions. One of those is that new partners come over for dinner with the family on the first day. It’s only my mother and me now, but I want you to come to dinner tonight.”

  Ansee relaxed a little. “Okay,” he said. He knew the importance of family meals, or at least used to. This would be a good opportunity to get to know Inspector Lunaria better and maybe show that he was just as good as this Cas had been, or maybe even better.

  “Be warned, though,” Reva said. “My mother liked Cas too. A lot. Probably more than me.”

  Ansee sighed. It was going to be an uphill struggle to get out from under Seeker Rubus’s shadow.

  “Now come on, we’ve got work to do.” Reva left the landing.

  “After I finish transferring the auras,” Ansee said, “I’ll head to Auros Academy. They have an extensive library on magical weapons.”

  Reva nodded her approval. Cas had consulted with the academy wizards on many cases. “Good. Be sure to tell the duty Constable in case anybody needs to find you.” They walked back down the main stairs. “So much for my day off.”

  Seven

  Cedres Vanda grunted with effort as he and his fellow bearers lifted the litter and moved across the courtyard of the Royal Treasury. Each bearer—there were four in all, two each front and back—wore a simple wooden yoke padded with straw-filled burlap across his neck and shoulders. The yoke helped distribute the weight more easily, but carrying the litter in this fashion put a lot of weight on the shoulders and back. People joked that you could tell a litter bearer from other people because they were always three hands shorter than everybody else.

  Cedres walked the last position at the rear of the litter. They paused briefly in the passageway of the gatehouse so that the portcullis could be raised, then they headed out into the street, moving at a moderate pace so as not to cause any discomfort to their passenger. The passenger in question was Lady Tala Ochroma, the King’s Treasurer. Cedres had carried Lady Ochroma on a few other occasions, and he loathed the job.

  Lady Ochroma was paranoid that she would be kidnapped and held for ransom in order to get at Tenyl’s vast wealth. Though paranoid as she was, she eschewed a guard force fearing that the guards would attract attackers instead of deter them. Instead of guards she travelled anonymously by litter, choosing a random litter company from the dozens in the city each day. In addition, the path the porters took through the city from her home to the treasury or back was also randomly determined and only told to the porters right before they left.

  Cedres hated the convoluted and overly complex paths they had to take through the city. Today’s route was one of the longer ones. After leaving the treasury they’d head through Old Grove, crossing the Grand March near the statue of General Haasäer, then into Forest Grove, where they’d circle around the north and west sides of Nuphar Wood before circling back to Grand March, through River Grove, and then up to Lady Ochroma’s home near the castle. Cedres knew the route was at least five times longer than it needed to be and was overly complicated—he didn’t know that Lady Ochroma had become lazy of late, using nearly the same route with different litter companies every day for the past month—but Cedres had no say in the matter. He was merely a worker and couldn’t make any decisions about the route, or even about his attire, for that matter.

  The litter was wood and canvas painted a bright yellow color. Cedres and the other bearers all wore matching yellow pants and long yellow and white striped tunics. They wore gaudy yellow bycocket hats with egret feathers in them and yellow shoes that had bells that jingled as they walked. The litter company’s owner had wanted his litters and bearers to be noticed, to better attract attention and more business.

  As the litter crossed Grand March into Forest Grove, Cedres scowled at how his life had changed. Each time he went to work, put on the hideous uniform, and carried elves around the city, it reminded him of his own pitiful situation. He remembered the day ten years ago quite clearly. He’d been working in his smithy, stoking the coals to get started on the day’s work, when he heard the call of the Royal Crier for all to come hear the latest proclamation from King Aeonis. The King had created a new law for the preservation of the elven people. The Law for the Protection of Elven Culture, a new Purity Law.

  Cedres had been mildly curious. He’d welcomed the King’s laws, which were working to make the elven race pure again, to make sure that the halpbloeden didn’t damage the elven people and their way of life. The King said that the Purity Laws were necessary to keep Tenyl a leading Kingdom throughout Ados in trade, magic, and military power.

  The first Purity Law—the Law to Restore Elven Culture and Heritage—had been enacted two hundred years ago. With it, all humans and other non-elven races—the few gnomes and halflings within the Kingdom, since dwarves had been forced to flee the Kingdom nearly five hundred years earlier—had their citizenship revoked. They could continue to live and work as they had, but they had none of the rights guaranteed to elves. The law made it illegal for non-elves to marry elves or to have sexual relations with them and it also forbade non-elven races from employing elves in their businesses.

  Fifty years later came the Law for the Protection of Elven Blood and Honor. This law made it illegal for non-elven races to own their own business or property. The law also defined a pureblood elf for the first time as having three or more grandparents that were elves. If you didn’t, then the law created a new status—halpbloeden—half-blooded. The law also stripped halpbloeden of their citizenship.

  Most elves are proud of their heritage and could easily prove their purity so only a small part of the population was affected. There were some people who were angered by the classification, but over time it became accepted—especially as dissent was quickly silenced by the Green Cloaks.

  Thirty years earlier, King Aeonis had enacted the third Purity Law, the Law Defining Elven Purity and Rights of Citizenship. The new law redefined who was considered halpbloeden. Now any person with four or more great-grandparents who were non-elven was reclassified as halpbloeden. In addition, halpbloeden were forbidden to marry elves or have sexual relations with them. Those who were already married were forced to divorce. Only citizens were allowed to work directly in service to the King. Overnight, many halpbloeden were removed from their positions within the army, postal service, and other civil employment. Even those halpbloeden who were not working directly for the King became ostracized and many were forced out of jobs they’d held for years. The law also set the amount of money a non-elf and halpbloeden could be paid for their work: three-quarters of the rate for non-elves, and one-half of the rate for halpbloeden.

  Those few foreigners who did business in the Kingdom called the laws overly harsh and cruel, but Cedres and many others knew that they were necessary to keep Tenyl strong. So on that day, ten years ago, he stood with his wife Rhea and their two children to listen to the Crier. The street had the feel of a festival; work had stopped and there was an excitement in the air. What had King Aeonis decreed to make Tenyl and the elven race even stronger?

  “By the mercy and order of King Aeonis!” The Crier’s voice was high and clear, carrying to all corners of the stree
t. “His majesty has enacted the Law for the Protection of Elven Culture!” A great cheer erupted from the crowd. Cedres could hear similar cheers rising from other parts of the city.

  “Article One! Halpbloeden is any person who has two or more great-grandparents who are non-elven or halpbloeden!”

  There was another cheer, but not as loud as the first. Cedres’s heart fell and he didn’t hear the rest of the decree.

  “No. No. No…” he started saying. “That’s not right. That can’t be right.”

  He turned to look at Rhea, but instead of sympathy, or even pity, he saw a scathing look on her face, as if he repulsed her. Cedres knew why in his head, but in his heart he couldn’t understand her reaction. Cedres’s lineage included two humans and one halpbloeden as great-grandparents. He’d been a full citizen of the Kingdom, an elf, proud of his heritage and race, and now, in the span of a few seconds, his life had been turned upside-down. He was now halpbloeden, and Rhea knew it.

  “Rhea, dear,” Cedres called, reaching a hand toward her. But Rhea pushed his two children toward him and fled through the crowd.

  His life had been a spiral of despair ever since that day. Rhea had filed for divorce before the day had ended and it was swiftly granted. All of his property—his home, the forge, and his tools—was taken from him. He couldn’t support his children and he had no family to help him. He was forced to give up his children to an orphanage run by followers of Jute. The new law had also decreed that all halpbloeden were to live within the walled grove in the southeast part of the city; formerly Willow Grove, it was now renamed to Non-elven Grove—Nul Pfeta. The grove soon swelled as halpbloeden reluctantly moved in.