Pflies had finally been able to identify the woman passenger as Lady Tala Ochroma and gave them details about her instructions. She always contacted Pflies after lunch with instructions for her journey, which were to be followed to the letter. She used various litter companies, so sometimes Pflies would not serve her for a week or more, but sometimes it would be every day for a week straight. Today had been the first time one of his litters had carried Lady Ochroma for at least a week.
Pflies had also given them the names of the litter bearers. He’d seemed genuinely upset at their deaths, which was unusual for a merchant, in Willem’s opinion. Most treated halpbloeden as nothing better than overpaid livestock.
“Today, uh, I mean yesterday,” Seeker Carya was saying, “Master Pflies received Lady Ochroma’s instructions a little after lunch.”
“How were the instructions delivered?” asked the Inspector.
“A page from the treasury brought them,” replied Willem. “I have already sent elves to see if they can find the page and question him.”
Inspector Lunaria nodded approval. She continued to finger the enamel pin and look at it, occasionally wiping the surface with her fingers. The pin was circular, about the size of a copper Pfen. It had a green tree over a field of blue, with small stars encircling the tree. As he watched, the Inspector rubbed at the surface of the pin again. A little too obsessively, Willem thought. He set his tea cup down forcefully, intentionally spilling some tea onto the table. It had Willem’s intended effect, drawing the Inspector’s attention away from the pin.
“Please be careful, Constable. My table has already had its weekly tea bath.” She glanced at Seeker Carya, who reddened slightly.
“Apologies, ma’am.” Willem blotted the spilled tea with some blank parchment. “Our witness is awake, if you want to interview him.” Lunaria nodded and stood up. She placed the jewelry into an evidence box and closed it, but Willem noticed that she held onto the pin.
“The two of you go down and make sure he’s comfortable, but don’t start asking any questions yet. I need to check something first. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
Willem nodded as the Inspector headed out of the stable and down the stairs. He thought that talking to the witness would be more important, but who could fathom the mind of an Inspector?
“Come on, Seeker,” Willem said. “Let’s go greet our guest.”
“We should bring him some tea,” suggested Carya, pointing to Willem’s cup.
Willem grimaced. “The poor person was almost killed once tonight. A cuppa that stuff would probably finish the job.”
† † †
Reva headed downstairs to the ground floor, her mind churning. She passed the sleepy-looking Constable at the duty desk and headed down the left-hand hallway to a simple wooden door with “Evidence Room” painted in white letters on it.
Reva pulled a key from a pocket on her leather vest and unlocked the door. The regulations said she had to have a second Constable with her in the room, but nobody on the force followed the rule. It was just too burdensome to get somebody to baby sit you, since everybody was so busy all the time. The room was dark and Reva pulled out a light wand that she’d been using at the crime scene after it had gotten dark.
Four rows of shelves filled with boxes were illuminated by the magical light. The room was small and cramped. Only evidence from open cases was stored here. Once a case was closed the evidence was disposed of or, rarely, returned to the victim or family member. Most often the Constables in charge of cleaning the room just took what they wanted and dumped the rest.
Reva went to the fourth set of shelves and quickly found the evidence box for the First Magistrate’s murder. The iron-banded oaken box was the size of an apple crate. Removing another key, she unlocked the box.
She played the light into the box, pushing aside the bloody clothes and Ansee’s carefully labeled aura crystals. At the bottom was a small leather pouch labeled “Jewelry”. Pulling it out, she opened the pouch and dumped the contents into her hand. She moved aside the rings and picked up an enamel pin.
The pin was still covered in blood, but Reva could make out part of an oak tree and some stars. She pried the dried blood up with her thumbnail and then spit on the pin and rubbed more of the blood away, exposing more of the tree and stars, The stars were all small white points in the harsh magical light, except for a single black star centered above the tree.
Reva put the pin into her pocket with Lady Ochroma’s pin. She then returned the rings to the pouch and put everything back in the box, careful to lock it before leaving the evidence room.
† † †
Cedres Vanda sat nervously in the cell. He’d woken up without knowing how he’d gotten here. His last memory was of the blade of the attacker sticking out of his stomach, then nothing. He idly wondered why he hadn’t died and which god had decided to keep him around for this cruel turn of events. His whole body ached, punctuated by sharp pains in his left shoulder and the entire right side of his body. It hurt to breathe and he winced as he mistakenly took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Two Constables sat in the cell with him and Cedres eyed them warily. Like many residents of Nul Pfeta, Cedres had not had good experiences with the Constables, so he mistrusted all of them as a matter of course.
sOne was an older elf with weathered features and a permanent scowl. His hair was a deep auburn and thinning and he had light alder-brown colored skin. He wore the rank insignia of a Senior Constable and stared at Cedres with dark brown eyes. He hadn’t spoken since he’d opened the cell and brought in three chairs.
The second elf was way younger than Cedres and smiled a lot, sort of embarrassed smiles that would cross his face and then quickly fade, as if reminding himself that he had to be stern. His skin was the color of fresh birch and he had soft, almond-shaped eyes that were a deep green. He was a Seeker and had introduced himself as Ansee Carya. He’d tried to be friendly, asking Cedres his name and inquiring about his injuries. Cedres had kept quiet. The Seeker had said that he was lucky to be alive and that he owed it to a Constable healer.
Cedres had interpreted that as “You should thank us for keeping you alive, halpbloed, using our superior elven magic to save your sorry ass.” The pain Cedres still felt told him that the healer had done a shoddy job. Apparently just enough to keep me from dying so that the Constables can gloat over me. He probably spent an hour washing his hands afterward, thought Cedres. He recalled the time he’d been careless at his forge and had smashed his hand with his hammer. The blow had shattered his bones and the pain had been unbearable. Healer Aphell had quickly set the bones with a spell and told Cedres to be more careful. There had been no lingering pain and the hand was as good as new.
He flexed his hand reflexively now, looking up as the cell door opened. A female elf walked in, carrying a mug in one hand and a small leather book in the other. She had silver-red hair that was pulled back over her ears and contrasted with her light brown skin. She had high cheekbones and had the snooty air of a leader about her.
She walked across the cell to stand in front of Cedres. “Here, drink this.” She handed the mug to him.
He took the mug and looked at it warily. “Uh, no.” He didn’t bother to hide his suspicion.
“It’s brandy,” said the woman. “I know our healer did a half-assed job on you, so I figured you could use something for the pain.”
“Or to loosen my tongue,” Cedres replied, but he took a drink of the brandy anyway. The warm liquor slid pleasantly down his throat.
She sat down, opening the book and pulling out a reed pencil that had marked a page. Cedres thought that he saw a grinning elephant on the cover.
“I’m Constable Inspector Lunaria, and this is Seeker Carya and Senior Constable Ghrellstone.” She gestured to the other two elves. “We need to ask you about the attack on the litter. Please tell us what you can remember.”<
br />
Cedres took another sip of the brandy, stalling for time. He thought about not saying anything. A small part of him was glad that Lady Ochroma was dead. She had always been a pain in the ass when they had to carry her. Good riddance! He didn’t owe anything to these Constables. What would telling them anything get him? Trouble. Dealing with Constables always brought trouble, often followed by kicks and punches, too.
Then he thought of Rhea and his children. Despite what the law said, he knew he was an elf and he was proud of his elven heritage. A loyal elf wouldn’t hesitate to help. Cedres would not bring more shame to his family by being stubborn and acting human. No, he would help as best he could, but…
“What about the law?” Cedres asked. “I know that I can’t be a witness or anything because I’m…because of my status.” Cedres wouldn’t call himself halpbloeden.
“In the case of murder we can petition for a Royal dispensation to suspend the law,” said the Inspector.
Cedres hadn’t known that, but this was the first time he’d ever witnessed a murder. If they can do that, maybe if I can help them, they can get the King to restore my heritage. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell us what happened yesterday, from the time you were given the order to pick up Lady Ochroma,” replied the Inspector.
Cedres proceeded to tell them what had happened. He went back a bit earlier, starting with his arrival at work, then receipt of the order, and leaving for the Treasury. The Inspector listened and wrote down everything he said. She stayed quiet, though the Seeker or the Senior Constable would occasionally interrupt him to ask a question.
When he got to the point where the litter entered Lythra Square, the Inspector finally interrupted him. “Please take your time and tell us absolutely everything you can remember from here on. No detail is unimportant.”
Cedres drank the last of the brandy before continuing. “I was in the last position on the litter, so I didn’t see much at first. The litter gave a violent lurch and I thought that Aanonpfera or Hanello had tripped on a cobblestone. Then I heard screams and the litter fell to the ground on the front end.
“I remember Lady Ochroma calling out for us to be careful, but then the litter twisted and landed on its side and she started screaming curses at us. I managed to slip off the yoke and I fell to the ground. That’s when I saw we were in thick fog.”
“There was fog all through the Square?” asked the Seeker.
Cedres looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “No. It was like we were inside a bubble of thick fog. Or maybe smoke. It seemed to swirl about, but it wasn’t moved by the wind. I know it was thick enough that I couldn’t see anything outside the fog, and that it hadn’t been there a few breaths before.
“I saw that Aanonpfera—he was the lead bearer—had his legs cut off and Hanello had fallen over his body. That was what caused the litter to fall. Then I saw somebody standing atop the litter, swinging a sword. I know it was foolish—”
“Wait,” said the Inspector. “Describe this person in detail.”
“He was an elf, maybe eighteen hands tall. He had on dark breeches and boots.”
“What color?” asked the Inspector.
“Dark color! I don’t fucking know,” snapped Cedres.
“Please think hard,” said Lunaria. “Close your eyes and picture it in your mind.”
Cedres closed his eyes, recalling the events. He saw Kord staring up at the elf in fright. The elf was swinging the sword. “They were dark brown breeches and black boots. He had on a leather tunic that was worked in a pattern of leaves and vines. The armor was colored at the edges in black…or maybe it was dark green. His hair was golden and came past his shoulders.” Cedres opened his eyes and lifted a hand to indicate how long the hair was. “He was swinging his sword, hacking off pieces of the litter.”
The Seeker started to say something but a touch from the Inspector stopped him. “What happened next?” she asked.
“It was stupid.” Cedres felt himself blush. “I saw him standing there, swinging the sword with impunity at my passenger. Don’t get me wrong. Lady Ochroma was an iron bitch.” He saw the Seeker flinch. “I hated carrying her on her damn stupid round-about paths through the city. But she was a passenger under my care and I couldn’t let anything happen to her, so I charged. I ran at the litter and hit it as hard as I could. Dumb, I know. My collarbone broke from the impact and my entire left arm went numb.”
“But it worked, right?” asked the Senior Constable.
Was that a note of admiration? wondered Cedres.
“Yeah, I guess. I must have caught him by surprise. I managed to move the litter, maybe a few hands, maybe less. But it was enough that he lost his balance and fell off it. He hit the ground, but then he used some kind of magic or something to get up again. It was like he was a snake and rabbit in one. He undulated and kicked and all of a sudden he was standing again. It had to be magic, right?”
The Inspector raised one eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“Anyway, he told me to mind my place, and I told him I was protecting my passenger. I grabbed part of the litter and swung it at him.”
“How did he sound?” asked Lunaria.
“Pissed off!” replied Cedres. The Inspector was about to say something but Cedres held up a hand. “Well, he was. But his voice was odd—distant sounding. That’s when I noticed his mask.”
Cedres noticed the Inspector write something in her notebook, underlining it a few times. “What kind of mask?” she asked. Her voice was calm, but Cedres could tell that her interest was peaked by this news. My chances of getting my heritage back may be even better now.
“It covered his whole face and was black and shiny. There were green circles around the eye holes, and a small slit for the mouth and nose. The mouth was painted black with a green oval around it and two red fangs.” Cedres pointed to his own mouth to indicate where the fangs were located. “It also had a green stripe that ran from the mouth down the chin.”
“Could you tell what it was made of?” asked the Inspector.
“Not really,” admitted Cedres. “The lighting was bad—what with the fog—and everything was happening so fast. It could have been wood, or maybe metal, or something else.” He shrugged.
Cedres paused to see if she had more questions. He looked hopefully at the empty brandy mug and shrugged again. “As I said, I swung the club at him, but he batted it aside with his blade. Lopped it clean off like it was balsa. Then he stabbed me.”
Cedres closed his eyes and winced at the memory. His wound ached, new pain flowing from his side despite the magical healing.
“Cedres,” the Inspector asked, “what did you do before you were a litter bearer?”
Cedres opened his eyes and looked at her. What did this have to do with anything?
“I hauled firewood and charcoal.”
“No. Before that. Before the last Purity Law was proclaimed.”
Cedres tried to read her expression. Is she mocking me? He couldn’t tell. “I was a blacksmith,” he said with a small bit of pride. “I owned my own forge over on Prince Alder Lane.”
The Inspector nodded her head, as if she’d already known the answer. “Did you work weapons at all?”
“Occasionally, though mostly it was repairs. I would make the odd axe or dagger from time to time. Sometimes I was hired to make a sword—once even for a Constable,” he said, again with pride. “But most of my work was more domestic in nature.”
“Describe the attacker’s sword for me.”
“Well…it was all so fast,” blurted Cedres. “I really didn’t see it all that well.”
“Please try,” said Lunaria. “You were an experienced smithy. I’m sure if you concentrate you will recall something. Again, no detail is unimportant.”
Cedres closed his eyes again. The attack was a jumble of images in his mind. Flashes,
like grand paintings, would flicker and fade, then…the attacker standing atop the litter, a glowing brand in his hand. His eyes shot open.
“It glowed,” he said. “The blade was black, but it glowed with a red light. There were red traces down the blade. I remember thinking that the blade looked like the burning embers in my forge when I’d work the bellows and the coals would glow red hot.”
The Inspector was writing her notes. “What else?”
“It was long. Maybe longer than my arm by a hand or so. The grip was wrapped in black leather, a thin strip wound around it.” He closed his eyes once more. This time he saw the glowing red-black blade diving for his stomach. “The guard was black metal, braided together and curved up at the ends. And there was a gem set in the pommel. Smooth and polished, red and black in color.”
Cedres stopped and opened his eyes. The cell grew quiet. Inspector Lunaria placed the pencil in her book and closed it. “Thank you, Cedres,” she said standing up from the chair. “If I got you some parchment, would you be able to draw the mask and the sword?”
“Sure, I can try. And after that I can go then, right?”
The Inspector paused, a trace of a frown on her face. “I’m afraid not.”
“What?” Cedres was suddenly filled with rage. Never trust the fuckin’ Constables! “I’m not a criminal!”
Lunaria held up a staying hand and Cedres shut up. “Of course not. It’s for your protection,” she explained. “The killer thinks that you’re dead. But if he learned that you were still alive then he might try again. Just to keep you quiet.”
“So, I’m supposed to just sit in here?” Cedres held his arms out to encompass the cell. It was bare except for a simple cot and a wooden slop bucket in the corner.
Wrath of the Fury Blade Page 9
