Shotput of Power

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Shotput of Power Page 17

by Drae Box


  “I’m confident. Someone called Lodema hired a Barbaric assassin and had half of the Tren inspectors killed by his hand, as well as the criminals who were in our cells that day.”

  Not quite what we heard, but considering it would only have been a rumour in Oreg, that’s fair enough. To Faustina he asked, “How do you know Lodema was involved?”

  “He kept a client list in his shoe.”

  “In his shoe? How revolting,” uttered Pedibastet.

  “Faustina,” said Aldora. “How often is it that someone hires a Barbaric assassin?”

  “It’s not common. You have to have a lot of cash. They’re the best, but they’re often the most sadistic too. Said to play with their victims before they kill them. Sometimes for years. I read a report once on them that said an assassin had integrated himself into the family of his victim, made himself invaluable to them, then killed everyone but the victim. He killed the intended target five years later by pushing the guy off the Southern capital’s news tower.”

  “I read that one too,” uttered Raneth, looking a little curiously at Faustina. Must have been honest when she said she was one of Regina’s non-corrupt plants. She probably wouldn’t have an interest in crime beyond her own home otherwise. “He had a long drop to curse the Eastern Barbarian’s bloodline. They apparently got the plague.”

  Aldora scoffed. “Where’s the proof the victim caused it?”

  We’re Giftens and Aldora doesn’t believe people can be cursed, even after I got bloodhexed that one time? How sheltered has her life at the village been?

  “About fifty people heard him scream the curse,” stated Pedibastet. “I’ve read the report too. Aldora, you really should educate yourself on events like these. Law enforcers should pay attention to things like this.”

  Raneth resisted the urge to nod his agreement with Prince Pedibastet. “There’s nothing here,” he stated, gesturing to the crime scene. “Must have just been a body dump. Trying to put us off track.”

  “Trying?” asked Pedibastet, his whiskers flat against his cheeks.

  Stop laughing at me. Raneth scowled at Pedibastet. “Let’s go back to your headquarters, Inspector. Maybe your medical examiner might have taken a look at the victim more closely.”

  “That’d be lucky,” muttered Faustina. “He’s a bit useless. We might get lucky though – we might have the dead inspector’s file or at least his identification papers from Oreg by now.”

  “Here you go, Prince Pedibastet.” Raneth smiled as he rested the saucer of lamb and gravy on the breakfast bar in the kitchen of their safehouse some hours later. The medical examiner had been as useless as Faustina had warned, but at least now their fridge-freezer and cupboards were stocked with newly bought food, and they had found a few leftover royal official rations too (much to Aldora’s horror). Heading back to the work surface beside the oven, Raneth retrieved his and Aldora’s lamb kofta dinners and brought them to the breakfast bar. He eagerly sat next to Aldora as he set them down.

  “You can cook more meals than I can,” stated the Dagger Bearer after uttering a thank you.

  Raneth stabbed some of the side salad with his fork. “When I wasn’t studying to be a royal official as a kid, I was being brought up to be a good Bayre. That meant cooking lessons, among other things, to help me attract a partner, even though I’ll inherit a few servants.”

  Aldora bit into the some of the lamb kofta. “Did you get to have any fun as a kid?” she asked once she’d swallowed her mouthful.

  “Plenty. I was the one causing the trouble Cally usually had to deal with.” Raneth glanced towards a box file that had come back with them from the inspectors’ headquarters – a file on the dead inspector, Sorrell Vance. “Do you mind if I work while we eat?”

  “No,” said Aldora. “Just don’t forget I’m here.”

  Raneth kissed Aldora’s cheek. “That’s harder to do than you think.”

  He was rewarded with the return of Aldora’s smile, so he opened the box file and took out the papers from inside. Placing them next to their plates, he dug into both the paperwork and his dinner.

  “Known to be corrupt and took bribes.” He pointed out the written shorthand in the file for Aldora to see. “And a possible murder three years ago.”

  Pedibastet lifted his gaze from his saucer. “Assuming the inspector was telling the truth and they are not hiding that bag, it’s reasonable to think he might have been killed because of it, yes?”

  That’s true. Raneth nodded his agreement. “At this point, we need to make a decision.”

  Aldora frowned. “What decision?”

  “Are we chasing the Shotput or Lodema?”

  “Raneth, it feels like we’re being pushed towards Lodema,” stated Aldora. “And we don’t even know for sure if she has anything to do with the Shotput.”

  “Yeah, and the fact her name keeps popping up is worth paying attention to,” said Raneth. “If the Oreg criminals and Inspector Faustina are to be believed, Lodema has a lot of sway in Oreg and Tren. She may know something more directly related to the Shotput even if she isn’t personally involved with its movements.”

  “In truth,” said Pedibastet, “she is the best lead we have. We don’t know if the blue bag has anything to do with us, especially as we don’t know what was in it, and the Eastern Barbarian snooping around Oreg that might be an assassin might have nothing to do with us or Lodema. We are chasing rumours that are out of date already, and the sighting in December might have only been last month, but it wasn’t even a confirmed sighting – Sasha said it was a possible sighting. We follow Lodema until we get a lead that suggests other paths of pursuit or we run out of time,” ordered Pedibastet before licking at the remnants of gravy on his saucer. “And I would like some more lamb and gravy.”

  “I guess that answers that,” murmured Aldora as she stood up to grab Pedibastet his seconds.

  Raneth returned his focus to the inspector’s personnel file, but looked over his shoulder at the sound of a saucer smashing on the floor.

  “Drigoe! You scared me half to death!” snapped Aldora.

  “Never mind that! He ruined my second supper!” protested Pedibastet.

  Standing between Aldora and the boys, Drigoe Brice stood with a sheepish smile that revealed his teeth. His muscular frame barely fit into his royal purple uniform – the same one every royal messenger of King Cray’s had to wear, but unlike the others, Drigoe’s had a silver version of the Kingdom’s Shield embroidered onto his left breast, signalling that he was the head of the messengers. His gift of materialisation is much nicer now that he’s on our side instead of serving the Frey in the Bayre–Frey Feud, noted Raneth as he gave the older man a smile.

  “I’m guessing you have a message from Cray?” he asked Aldora’s brother-in-law. “Is it home-time?”

  Drigoe snickered before he could stop himself, his green eyes twinkling at Raneth. “What are you, five?” he teased. He glanced at the gravy and lamb on the floor. “Sorry I scared you, Aldora. I wish my gift did something to warn people, but it doesn’t.” Turning to Raneth, he added, “Queen Regina sent word to Cray that you were looking into someone called Lodema as a result of your assignment.”

  Raneth nodded. “I’m guessing Cray found something he thinks is related?”

  “A royal detective from Aleesa Village called Lodema Arusha. Name meanings are ‘guide’ and ‘red’, so he’s not convinced her parents believed in name meanings like the majority of us Giftens,” stated Drigoe. He shrugged. “Normally Cray would take longer to find someone with a name match and not much else.”

  “Yeah, but?” asked Raneth. He stood up and prowled over to one of the cupboards to retrieve a tea towel. Kneeling beside Aldora, who was picking up the pieces of broken porcelain, he mopped up the gravy.

  “For the record,” uttered Aldora quickly. “When we have kids, I want one of their names to mean ‘precious’, because they will be to us and to the kingdom’s security.”

  Raneth sta
red at Aldora, stilling as he absorbed her words. She wants to be with me AND have my kid. He rubbed his palms on the thighs of his trousers then tugged at the collar of his top as he smiled at her and nodded. “Definitely,” he agreed.

  Drigoe coughed to regain their attention. “If whoever has the Shotput is this woman, Lodema, Cray says that you’re to stay the course of the assignment, even if it will be difficult, because she’ll know some methods to stay off your radar.”

  I hate when detectives fall on the wrong side of the law. “And?”

  “And I have a copy of her picture for you. She joined after Southern Kingdom cameras started being used at Green City Royal Detective University.” He freed a square photograph from his inner breast pocket and held it out to Raneth.

  Raneth took it curiously, observing the glossy image of a blue-eyed royal detective graduate smiling back at him, her lips full and her brown hair tucked neatly into a bun, revealing her long graceful neck. “Anything else?”

  “Only that she’s taken unscheduled leave and is confirmed to be somewhere here in Newer. Cray’s confident that she’s who you need to chase down. As someone who used to watch you chasing down murderers, I think you should do whatever feels safest to you.”

  Aldora stood up, pieces of the broken saucer in her hands. “Lodema it is then.” She gave Raneth a pointed look. “Unless we get something more concrete on the Shotput.”

  Raneth nodded. “Unless the true objective comes into view,” he agreed, glancing warily at Drigoe. “Are there any other messages or information for me?”

  “Nope,” said Drigoe, drawing the word out longer than normal as he frowned suspiciously at Aldora and then Raneth. “Not sure what other sort of messages you’d expect to get. Anyway, you two make sure to call me if you need me. I’ll still be able to ‘hear’ you with my gift if you call my name. Just know you’re out of luck if you end up in the Barbaric East or southwards in the Southern Kingdom. Even my gift has its limits, but I’ve been almost everywhere in Newer, so coming here won’t be any trouble.”

  “Thanks, Drigoe,” said Raneth.

  The ex-Frey Follower used his gift to dematerialise without a sound, leaving Raneth alone with Aldora and Pedibastet, his body blinking out of view entirely, without any suggestion that his gift grabbed his bodily components and flung him across the landmass to another kingdom entirely.

  “I’m gonna go and have a shower,” stated Raneth, looking to Aldora.

  She gave him a slight smile. “You think in the shower?” she asked.

  “Sometimes, but it’s also getting late.” Raneth shrugged. “I’ll eat my leftovers for breakfast unless Prince Pedibastet gets to them first.”

  “There’s a good chance of that,” stated the Prince of the Cats. “But for now, I’d be content to be let out to enjoy a night hunt.”

  Raneth prowled over to the kitchen window and shoved it open, watching as the Prince of the Cats leapt through it. “Be careful,” he called, almost closing the window behind the cat but leaving it gently touching its frame with a gap as wide as a small child’s finger. “I’ll see you in the morning, Aldora.”

  “Goodnight, Raneth. I’ll stay up until Pedi’s back.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Aldora

  A squeak came from the window as Pedibastet, barely fitting on the windowsill, pressed his body against the glass and made his usual squeak with the pad of his paw down the glass pane.

  “Let me in!”

  Aldora set down the tea she had just made and went over to push open the window. The cat jumped inside and started to clean himself.

  “What’s wrong, Pedi?” she asked.

  “Who said there was something wrong?” he asked between licks.

  “I know you well enough to tell that something made you run back here,” she stated. “Eyes for one thing – they’re barely showing your lovely green. And now you’re cleaning yourself.”

  The Prince of the Cats paused his licks, the tip of his tongue on show. “Well, yes. But don’t think this is the only time I clean my royal fur! This takes hours of work. But yes, I saw something that made me worried, so I came back. Is Raneth awake?”

  “I’ll go and get him.” Aldora strode into the corridor and knocked on the second door on the right. “Raneth, Pedibastet’s back. He’s a bit rattled, and he wants you.”

  Something thudded on the other side of the door and then Raneth opened it and picked up a pot of travelling toothpaste. He placed it on a shelf beside the door. “Alright,” he uttered, rubbing at his bare left shoulder as he stepped past her.

  Aldora watched from behind as he prowled into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of black Southern Kingdom boxers. A few scars rippled across his wiry frame as he stalked towards the Prince of the Cats, but they didn’t deter Aldora from looking.

  “Yes, Prince Pedibastet?” asked Raneth as he stepped towards the breakfast bar, giving Aldora space to join them.

  “Raneth, there’s a man out there in a grey cloak with uneven edges, purposefully made to blend into his surroundings at night. No sharp edges to his clothing whatsoever. The dark brown of his skin suggests he is Eastern Barbaric.”

  The assassin? Aldora frowned at Pedibastet then Raneth, noticing that her royal official was fiddling with the thick band of elastic at the top of his underwear. Normally he fiddles with his weapons when he’s worried, but he doesn’t have them.

  “You two are worried it could be Lodema’s assassin?” she asked, taking her waiting tea from the work surface. She sipped it, grateful for the small pleasure. Why does it feel like the day’s not over yet?

  “Could be,” said Raneth. “Eastern Barbaric assassins often wear grey cloaks to help them blend into shadows at night.” Raneth ran a hand over his cleanly shaved face. “We’d best head straight to the inspectors. Maybe they’ll know some other reason why an Eastern Barbaric assassin has arrived in Tren.”

  “We can’t trust inspectors with your life, Raneth,” protested Pedibastet.

  Why not? Faustina was recommended to us and so far she’s been nothing but helpful and friendly. Aldora toyed with her cup of tea. “Faustina can be trusted. Regina and Rena vouched for her.”

  “But the others are another matter,” stated Pedibastet, tail tip flicking. “Faustina is the exception, not the rule.”

  “Whatever,” snapped Raneth. “Look, we need to keep moving. Especially if this assassin is here for us. At the very least, we need Faustina.” He scrubbed at his short black hair then looked at Aldora. “It’s her home turf. Whatever we decide to do, we need her help. Do you agree?”

  Aldora glanced at Pedibastet, noticing how the greens of his eyes were still barely visible, and the thrash of his tail against the work surface was still fast-paced. Pedi’s furious, but I agree with Raneth.

  “We get Faustina’s help,” she stated firmly, watching as Pedibastet’s ears faced backwards, pinning themselves to the top of his head. “Pedi, no hissy fits, please.”

  “Hissy fits? A Prince of the Cats never has hissy fits. Human females, for sure, but cats?”

  Raneth barely contained a smile at the cat’s protestations. “I’ll get our bags ready. There’s no promise we’ll be coming back here when there’s an assassin sniffing around, so best to keep our supplies and those royal official rations we found here on us.”

  Aldora chucked the rest of her tea down her throat. “While you do that, I’ll get myself ready.”

  Arriving at the inspectors’ headquarters, Aldora grasped Raneth’s hand and led him into the kitchen. She nodded with small smiles at the inspectors who noticed their presence along the way. Prince Pedibastet walked behind them, the end of his tail flicking his irritation. He’ll get over it. He always does, decided Aldora as she and Raneth peeked into the kitchen.

  “Evening again, Faustina.”

  The Newer inspector bolted into a stand, her chair almost falling onto its back in her haste. “I was hoping you three would come,” she uttered, striding towards them.
“I wasn’t sure if I should go and get some sleep or not. Obviously not.”

  What’s she heard? Aldora shuffled forwards as the inspector eased behind her and shut the kitchen door, narrowly missing Prince Pedibastet, who sprang into the room and sat on one of the chairs at the table. Aldora joined Pedibastet.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked as Raneth took the seat next to her.

  “There’s an–”

  “Eastern Barbaric assassin,” interrupted Pedibastet. “Yes, we know.”

  “You realise he must be here for you three, right? We’ve done everything possible to keep off the radar since our guys were killed by the last one.”

  Aldora glanced at Raneth. He’d best deal with this.

  “Are you sure he’s here for us?” asked Raneth. “We were hoping you’d know another reason why he might appear.”

  Faustina shook her head. “Nothing out of the ordinary has happened to encourage one to come to Tren, and being a royal official, you must know they cost a small fortune to hire.”

  Raneth nodded. “For our safety’s sake, we have to assume they’re here for us then.”

  Aldora leaned against the table. “So what do we do?” She looked first to Raneth, then Faustina. “There must be a plan if we’re to come out alive against an assassin, I’m guessing.”

  “An assassin is no easy opponent,” stated Pedibastet. “Even for a young man with royal official training and experience, they pose a threat.”

  “It could be a good thing he’s arrived.” Raneth plucked an abandoned pen off the table and twirled it around in his left hand. His blue eyes switched their attention to Aldora. “Maybe we can bait him. Find out if he’s here for us and if it’s anything to do with our enquiries.”

  “What did you have in mind?” asked Aldora. “Nothing too dangerous, I hope.” Nothing involving you as bait, preferably.

  “That dead inspector. It seems like Lodema has gone to a lot of effort to make it appear that she’s a shadow.”

 

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