“A riot at the university,” replied Dekkard. “How about a drink while we tell you about it?”
“And a few other matters,” added Ysella.
“Knowing you two, I’m sure there are.” Emrelda smiled wryly, stepped back, and held the door while they entered, closing and bolting it behind them.
Less than a sixth later, the three settled into the wicker chairs around the low table, and Ysella looked to Dekkard. “You start with what’s happened this week.” To emphasize that she wasn’t going to interrupt, she lifted her wineglass and sipped the Silverhills white.
It didn’t take Dekkard long to summarize what had happened in the Council over the past five days, including the infiltration of the Council messaging system, and to describe what had happened at the demonstration that morning.
“No wonder you two looked a little out of sorts. That violent a demonstration here in Machtarn…” Emrelda shook her head, then frowned. “Were there regular patrollers there? There was no mention of special duties yesterday.”
“All I saw were Special Tactical Forces,” replied Dekkard. “The red-and-gold triangle patches.”
“That’s not good. Most of the patrollers dislike the STF types. They’re worse than Security agents. The station captain thinks they never should have been created. Just like the agents, they’re not allowed in the Patrollers Benevolent Society.”
“They’re not?” asked Dekkard.
Emrelda shook her head. “There’s nothing benevolent about either of them. The Benevolent Society isn’t a guild. Members choose who can belong.”
Before Emrelda could add anything more, Ysella immediately said, “Do you have the name of the area Security chief you mentioned? Obreduur’s contacts are digging up information on a Commercer public prosecutor in Siincleer. There are reports that he’s closed cases for lack of evidence when he was the one who was responsible for its disappearance.”
“You think that it might be tied to Markell and Halaard’s deaths?”
“We don’t know,” said Dekkard, “but Obreduur’s contacts are looking, and any information would be helpful.” He took a small swallow of his Kuhrs. For some reason, his throat seemed particularly dry.
“His name was Karell Troyan. That’s all I know … except that he’s like most Security patrollers. They think that the agents, especially the Special Tactical Forces, aren’t much better than brigands and thugs with red patches and guns. The patrollers in Siincleer have an even lower opinion. You’re sure that there were Tacticals at the demonstration?”
“We saw two with the gold-and-red patches,” replied Ysella. “Steffan told you that. They opened fire on the demonstrators.”
“The gory details will be in broadsheets within days,” added Dekkard. “I doubt anything detailed will be in Gestirn.”
“Will that affect you?” Ysella asked Emrelda.
“I’ll be given overtime. That will help.”
Help? With what? Then Dekkard realized that, with Markell vanished and likely dead, and with Halaard Engaard dead, whatever income Emrelda had would be what she alone earned, and keeping a house the size of hers even without any debt couldn’t be inexpensive. “Can we help?” Those words came out even without thinking.
Both Emrelda and Ysella looked at him.
“I don’t need help now,” replied Emrelda. “Markell got a bonus about a month before … everything happened. It’s in a joint account. Since he’s officially … still alive…” She swallowed.
“I’m sorry,” said Dekkard gently. “I didn’t mean…”
Emrelda looked to Dekkard. “I know. You’re thoughtful and kind.” She cleared her throat. “We’ve been very prudent. Everything’s paid for. I can live here—carefully—on what I make. At least for quite some time.”
“Have you heard anything from Cliven?” asked Ysella. “Recently?”
“He wrote me, saying I was welcome to come home any time. I wrote him back. I thanked him for his kindness, but told him I intended to remain here until matters became clearer. He wrote back earlier this week that he thought he understood, but that if I changed my mind, I’d always be welcome.” Emrelda offered a hard wry smile. “There’s no way I’d go back even if I were destitute. Not now, anyway.”
Ysella nodded.
Dekkard understood what wasn’t said.
“What does all this turmoil mean for you two?” asked Emrelda. “Besides more attempts on your councilor’s life?”
“There might be new elections if matters get nasty enough,” said Ysella. “They’d have to get very nasty for the Craft Party to win enough seats and to gain enough Landor support to form a government. I think there will be elections, but that the Commercers and Landors will cobble together enough seats to keep power.” She looked to Dekkard.
“Avraal’s right,” he said, “unless the New Meritorists and others can show just how corrupt the Commercers have become. If that’s the case, the Imperador will have to call for elections.” Dekkard frowned. “That could turn even nastier, because if the Commercers lost control, they’d do their best to sabotage anything a Craft premier did, and the New Meritorists wouldn’t help because they want to tear up the Great Charter.”
Emrelda nodded, then said, “Since we can’t do anything about any of that this afternoon, why don’t the three of us fix some refreshments and enjoy them.” She turned to Dekkard. “Do you have any familiarity with cooking or a kitchen, Steffan?”
Dekkard grinned. “My mother and sister wouldn’t have had it otherwise. That said, I’m better at slicing or chopping or cleaning up.”
“Good.” Emrelda stood up. “We’re having a butternut squash soup, with a very large salad that will take a fair amount of washing, slicing, and chopping of the produce I got early this morning. The dessert is done. It’s a lemon chiffon cake.”
Dekkard rose and followed the sisters inside and into the kitchen.
80
LIGHT conversation and good refreshments, including an excellent lemon chiffon cake, lager, and wine, filled the remainder of Findi morning and Findi afternoon, along with some cleaning up of dishes.
Just after the fourth bell of the afternoon, Emrelda announced, “It’s time to take you both back. Just to be safe, we’ll take a very much longer route that avoids Imperial University, the Council Hall, and the Palace.”
“That’s for the best,” said Ysella.
Dekkard agreed, although he suspected that demonstrators might have avoided the Palace and its grounds, even if he had no logical basis for that conclusion.
On the circuitous route back to East Quarter, sitting in the rear seat by himself, Dekkard kept an eye out for Security forces, wondering if he’d ever find out how many people died in the university demonstration.
Emrelda stopped the teal Gresynt in front of the Obreduurs’ pedestrian gate, then said, “I’ll let you know what my schedule is. I might have to work next Findi.”
“With everything that’s going on,” replied Ysella, “who knows what we’ll be doing, but I’ll message you.”
Then Dekkard and Ysella got out of the steamer and watched as Emrelda made a U-turn and headed back toward Imperial Boulevard before they walked through the gate and up the drive.
Ysella stopped at the covered portico that led to the side entrance of the house and turned to Dekkard. “Asking if we could help, Steffan … that was sweet.” She paused, then added, “I liked that you said ‘we.’”
“That’s what I felt. I wasn’t thinking. She’s your sister…”
She reached out and placed a finger on his lips. “You don’t have to explain.”
He removed her finger gently. “I thought I should.”
“You said what you felt. Emrelda was touched. So was I.”
Dekkard stood there, just looking at her, taking in her grace and solidity, and wishing he had some way to convey all that he felt … or that she could sense all his feelings. That’s what comes of your being an isolate and her being an empath.
&n
bsp; Abruptly, she smiled. “Thank you for the day … and the knives.” She lifted the leather case slightly.
“You bought them,” he said softly. “I just wanted to make sure you had the right ones.”
“I’ll need to practice drawing and throwing.”
“Getting the feel for that won’t take you long.”
“Not with your help. And I’ll give the sheath to Nellara and tell her it’s from you.” She turned toward the steps up to the side entrance to the house, almost reluctantly, it seemed to Dekkard.
As he followed her up the few steps, Dekkard asked, “What do you think Ulrich will do?”
“Blame the New Meritorists and minimize the casualties.”
“What about the petition about the Kraffeist Affair?”
“He’ll find a way to minimize its effect. He won’t even mention it if no one else does.”
“As usual. But I wouldn’t be surprised if Councilor Bassaana asks a few questions.”
“He might not recognize her on the floor. Or he might say he won’t answer questions until he has more information.”
When they reached the foot of the staircase, Avraal stopped and turned to Dekkard. “Except for the demonstration, I enjoyed the day. I haven’t enjoyed Findis as much in years.”
Dekkard swallowed, then said, “I haven’t ever enjoyed them this much. You … make them special.”
“So do you.” She leaned back, set the leather case on the second step, then eased almost against Dekkard before she reached up with both hands, and drew his head down to where her lips met his.
Dekkard’s arms, seemingly without volition, embraced her firmly, but gently.
After a long and gentle kiss, Avraal eased back slightly, as her arms went around him, and she looked up.
“You don’t know…” murmured Dekkard. “I’ve looked at you … not knowing…”
“You know now,” she replied with a mischievous smile.
“It has to be … only the beginning. You need to be courted … more.”
The smile faded slightly. “Oh?”
“You can’t sense me.”
Her smile brightened. “Not as an empath, no. But I’ve worked with you closely for two years. You’re honest in everything you do. Mostly. When you’re not, it’s painfully obvious.”
“It’s uncomfortable for me,” Dekkard admitted. “But I can be noncommittal without lying.”
“You’re very good at that,” Avraal agreed.
“How long have you known … that I…”
“Since the Findi you agreed to visit Emrelda.”
“I never wanted to impose…”
“I know.” Then she kissed him again.
When she eased her lips from him, she said quietly, “We can’t do more. Not now. Not for a while.”
It was Dekkard’s turn to say, “I know. You’re truly a Ritten, and anything more wouldn’t…” He couldn’t come up with the right words … or any words.
“Forget about the Ritten part,” she replied in a warm tone. “We have to get through the next weeks without any more entanglements, but it will be easier this way.”
Dekkard frowned.
“Because you needed to know that I love you, and you needed to realize that you love me.”
Dekkard kissed her a third time, longingly. This time, he was the one to ease away. “Knowing … and not … is going to be … difficult.”
“For both of us.”
Dekkard found her words reassuring, though he couldn’t have said why.
She reached up and touched his cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He smiled. “I remember the first time you did that.”
Avraal smiled in return. “So do I.” Then she turned, picked up the leather case, and headed up the steps.
Dekkard stood there, thinking, especially about the adage of never getting involved with one’s security partner. And the fact that husbands and wives can’t ever be paired in security duties. He didn’t even want to think about them not being partners … or not being together.
He took a long deep breath and made his way up the steps to his room, which was going to be warm … and somehow very empty.
81
Former Minister in Kraffeist Scandal Dies
Former Minister of Public Resources Jhared Kraffeist died suddenly last night from a fall at his home in the fashionable East Quarter of Machtarn. From all reports, Kraffeist tripped at the top of a formal marble staircase and suffered a fatal head injury. He was heading down to the main level to rejoin his wife in the sitting room when the accident occurred …
Minister Kraffeist served as Minister of Public Resources at the pleasure of former Premier Johan Grieg. After Premier Grieg’s resignation was requested by the Imperador, following the revelations about the improper leasing of the Eshbruk Naval Coal Reserve to a subsidiary of Eastern Ironway, Premier Grieg’s successor, Oskaar Ulrich, requested Minister Kraffeist’s resignation. Throughout the entire investigation of the leasing scandal, Kraffeist maintained he did nothing knowingly improper …
Much of the supporting documentation disappeared prior to the Council investigation … few remaining documents show that a standard initial payment was made to the Public Lands account of the Imperial Treasury, and that a M20,000 commission was paid to Kharhan Associates. The only record of any entity known as Kharhan Associates was an account listed at the Machtarn branch of the Imperial Banque of Guldor, an account almost immediately closed with the proceeds of the commission withdrawn in cash and paid to one Amash Kharhan. There is no record of such an individual, according to the Ministry of Security.
Almost immediately after the terms of the lease became public, Eastern Ironway’s Director of Logistics, Eduard Graffyn, vanished. Despite an intensive search by the Ministry of Security, no traces of Graffyn or his movements were uncovered. Then, this past Quindi, a legal petition was referred to the High Justiciary containing a sworn and sealed deposition dealing with specified legal “irregularities” involving coal leasing procedures as practiced by the Ministry of Public Resources and petitioning for certain legal remedies. The petitioner is stated to be Eduard Graffyn. The initial hearing date will be tomorrow before the High Justiciary at the fourth bell of morning.
Minister Kraffeist is survived by his wife …
Gestirn, 31 Summerend 1266
82
ALTHOUGH it was a while before Dekkard got to sleep, he slept well, but woke early, thoughts about Avraal mixing with concerns about the violence of the demonstration and speculations about the “return” of Eduard Graffyn, otherwise known as Sr. Muller. He washed and dressed quickly, but early as he was, he was definitely surprised to see Avraal already at the table, sipping her café.
She offered him a warm smile. “Good morning.” Then the smile faded, and she gestured to the morning edition of Gestirn. “You need to read the front-page stories.”
Since he always read the newssheet, Dekkard had an uneasy feeling. “That bad?”
“Just read them.”
Dekkard read about Kraffeist’s death, then said, “That wasn’t an accident, not right after Graffyn reappeared. And neither the Premier nor the Imperador had anything to say.”
“Why would they?” Her tone was sardonic. “It was just an unfortunate accident.”
“How do you think they did it?”
“Frog poison along with an empblast of dizziness or something like it. Someone in the house likely removed the dart … That’s just a guess.” She offered a wry smile. “Keep reading.”
Dekkard did. The second front-page story was about the riot at Imperial University, where an “as-yet-unknown number of Security patrollers and demonstrators died.” Security Minister Wyath declared that “anyone creating civil disorder and refusing to disperse peacefully risks being shot … law-abiding citizens of Guldor should not have their lives endangered by political extremists.”
Dekkard quickly riffled through the rest of the newssheet but saw nothing else t
hat seemed important. He set it back on the side table, poured his café, and sat down across from Avraal. “Good morning, lovely lady.”
“Thank you.”
Dekkard thought she might have blushed. “I did have an extraordinary afternoon and early evening. Thank you.”
“Only when we’re alone … for now,” she said quietly. “Rhosali will be down in minutes.”
He nodded. “The demonstration story doesn’t mention the New Meritorists or Premier Ulrich. It also doesn’t mention Special Tactical Forces.”
“Would you expect anything else?”
Dekkard offered a brief sardonic laugh. “There will be more broadsheets with the gory details … and they’ll be across all Guldor by the end of the week.”
“Ulrich will use the demonstration as a justification for even more funding for Security.” Avraal paused. “Do you think something will also happen to Graffyn?”
“Not today. As I understand the process, today is only to verify his identity and standing and for the justicers to rule on whether all parts of the petition are admissible.”
“How long can the government drag out the hearings?”
Dekkard shrugged. “I don’t know. Ingrella could tell us. So could Ivann or Svard. But my gut feeling is that it’s a priority procedure that the High Court will rule on fairly quickly.”
“Do you two ever talk about anything but the Council and laws?” asked Rhosali as she walked into the staff room.
“We were talking about the demonstration at the university,” said Dekkard. “We wondered how many people got shot. The newssheet only said there were numerous fatalities.”
“There were a lot of screamers just before noon yesterday.”
“The students were protesting that untalented Commercer boys were being given preference over talented worker or artisan students.”
Rhosali snorted. “That’s a good way to get shot. Commercers don’t like anyone questioning their privileges.” She took her café and sat beside Avraal. “Just like they don’t much care for paying decent wages. The councilor doesn’t have marks the way the rich Commercers do, but he and the Ritten pay Hyelda and me more than most pay their maids and cooks.”
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