Paladin’s Hope: Book Three of the Saint of Steel

by T. Kingfisher

  “We’re nearly at the river,” said Piper. “Are you satisfied that I will not be murdered in broad daylight here?”

  Galen nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  “I think,” said Piper, “that perhaps we should not see one another again. At all.”

  “Piper—”

  He held up a hand. “In the interests of preserving what little dignity I have left,” he said, still in that hoarfrost voice, “I think it is for the best.”

  And he turned and walked away, and Galen watched him go and felt as if he was being torn in two.

  Thirty-Three

  Piper told himself that he wasn’t thinking about Galen, and then, after about ten minutes, told himself to stop thinking about Galen.

  You were right. You were absolutely right. He knows you were right. And you owe him nothing and he owes you nothing and you were the one mooning around after he’d made it perfectly clear what he wanted. Or didn’t want, as the case may be.

  This was all quite true and Piper repeated it four or five times while staring at the painting on his wall without seeing it, living in the memory of that soft, apologetic kiss by the river’s edge.

  He could not get that kiss out of his head. For god’s sake, you actually sucked the man’s cock, you’d think that would be what you’re obsessing over, but no, it was a kiss that lasted less than a second. That’s what you can’t forget.

  Everything else was lust, he argued with himself. That felt like more.

  And that and a ha’penny will buy you a pint at an establishment where the dysentery is included free of charge.

  This was inarguable.

  He went back and forth a hundred times a day. He would go and see Galen. He would avoid Galen forever. He would. He wouldn’t. The choice played in the back of his head while he worked, until the words lost all meaning and became a stream of IwillIwon’tIwillIwon’t like a mosquito buzzing inside his skull.

  Eventually, he went to prayer and the bottle, the two great comforters of humanity since the discovery of gods and yeasts. He spent his day off getting spectacularly drunk, which didn’t help anything much. Prayer didn’t seem to help either, but at least it didn’t come with a hangover the next day.

  His thoughts were so jumbled that he hardly knew what to pray for, so he settled on a general, Do you see this whole mess, gods? Please just fix it! I’m begging You! He had a suspicion that most priests would have confirmed this was a very common prayer indeed.

  That state of affairs continued for nearly a week, and then the door to Piper’s workroom was flung open and Galen burst through it.

  The paladin looked wild-eyed and almost panicked and for a horrible moment Piper thought perhaps he was berserk. His chest was heaving as if he had been running. Then he took a shuddering breath and said, “Piper.”

  Piper wanted to go to him. He wanted to wrap his arms around the man. He wanted to slam the door in his face. He wanted to scream or kiss him or fall down. He had no idea what he wanted, so he stood there, still with one gloved hand inside a corpse, and heard himself say, “I thought that we agreed not to see each another again.”

  Galen shook his head, slumping against the doorframe, and Piper dared to hope that the paladin was here to tell him that it was all a terrible mistake, that he wanted to try again, that he had been miserable thinking about what he had thrown away.

  Instead, Galen licked his lips and gasped, “Earstripe.”

  Piper jerked his hand free. The corpse’s liver wasn’t going to get any worse, and it had already been a mess even before he’d started poking it. “Is he hurt? Did his wound reopen?”

  “No. No.” Galen shook his head. “They’ve arrested him.”

  “What?”

  “The guard. Vigilantism, they said. For killing Thomas.”

  Piper stared at him. “But that was outside the city. The guard doesn’t have jurisdiction. And you’re the one who killed him.”

  “I know, I know.” Galen’s voice was a rasp. “That’s why they arrested him. If he was acting as a guard, he was outside his authority. It’s my fault.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I told those damn guards that Earstripe was in charge, that it was all his idea. I was so goddamn smug about giving him the credit.”

  Piper’s breath hissed through his teeth. He stripped off his gloves and apron and washed his hands. “But they didn’t arrest you.”

  “Of course not. I’m a paladin.” Galen gave a harsh crack of laughter. “If they arrest me, Beartongue will come down on them like the wrath of god. But if they arrest Earstripe, that’s an internal guard matter. She’s got no jurisdiction until it goes to the courts.”

  Piper thought of Earstripe, not yet recovered from his injuries, thrown in a jail cell by guards who were more than a little angry to have been shown up by a gnole. His stomach lurched. “But he left the guard!”

  “Assuming Mallory wants to inform them of that. He’s the one most embarrassed by the whole thing. It was one of his people, on his watch, who solved a crime that he’d told them to drop.”

  Piper dug his fingers into the soap, leaving white half-moons under his nails. He stared into the water and said, “If he was human, they’d have given him a medal.”

  “I know.”

  His fist slammed into the metal tray beside the basin, sending instruments scattering. Piper stared at it as if it belonged to someone else, some furious stranger. He was never furious. He was cool and dispassionate. His knuckles were white.

  This will not help.

  You can fix this. Earstripe isn’t dead. The dead are beyond fixing. The living aren’t.

  “Right,” he said. His voice sounded very calm in his own ears. “Get Stephen. We’re going to start with Mallory, and then we will go higher. Clear to Commander Tamsin if we must.”

  Galen frowned. “None of them will even talk to me.”

  Piper felt his lips stretch in a smile. “They’ll talk to me,” he said softly. “I know where all the bodies are buried. I’ve dissected most of them.”

  * * *

  Galen arrived at the guard station with Stephen in tow, five minutes before Piper arrived in a hired ponycart. While there were theoretically sidewalks in this part of town, they were not well-marked or maintained, so the driver pulled directly up to the stairs and Piper jumped out. Galen moved instinctively to catch him if he stumbled, but the doctor’s footing was sure.

  Galen’s eyebrows went up when he saw Piper’s clothes. So did Stephen’s, but probably for somewhat different reasons.

  Neatly pressed tan robes fell around him, adorned with a plain black stole. The severe lines flattered him and brought out the darkness of his hair and the coldness of his eyes. Galen had never seen Piper in anything but a bloody apron or increasingly battered traveling clothes, and hadn’t realized how much he’d been missing. He swallowed hard.

  “You look…” Magnificent. Impressive. Regal. “…very formal.”

  “What I wear to give testimony in court,” said Piper. “I thought I’d remind the guard that they are not the only law in Archenhold.”

  “Good choice,” said Stephen.

  “Very,” said Galen.

  A faint smile briefly warmed Piper’s expression. “We’ll see how far it gets me. I’m sorry that took so long. I sent word to Skull-of-Ice, telling ours what we know and promising that we will do our best to get Earstripe back, and the return messenger caught me just before I left.”

  “What did ours say?” asked Galen, half-dreading the answer.

  “That humans talk to other humans best and that it was a serpent dance. And there was something else that I don’t think translated well, that since Earstripe was my patient once, we were kin, and kin stood for kin, even against humans. But I don’t know if that was ours ordering me to succeed or offering a gnole army against the guards if I didn’t.”

  “I suppose we’ll find out,” said Galen.

  “No chance of sweeping this under the rug, then,” said Stephen.


  “Would you want to, even if we could?” asked Piper.

  Stephen frowned. “I worry for the gnoles,” he admitted. “They’re the ones that come out on the short end if we force a confrontation.”

  “Which is why it’s up to us to handle it,” said Galen.

  Piper nodded to him. “And the gnoles will know much better than we will where the pain points with the guard will be. Hopefully the Rat can intercede, although at this point, that might just make it worse.”

  “That’s Beartongue’s fear,” said Stephen. “She’d swoop in with the cavalry if she could, but she’s afraid that any show of interest will put the gnoles in the crossfire.” He glanced to the door of the guard station, three steps up. The stone was dark and still bore the stains of flooding from two years earlier. “The two of us probably shouldn’t even go with you, truth be told.”

  “We’re going,” said Galen. He heard how harsh his voice sounded, but didn’t try to soften it. The thought of letting Piper go in alone, of the doctor being arrested and thrown in a cell for his part in stopping Thomas, made his gut churn. I’m the one who killed him. Me. And yet I walk free because a paladin in pursuit of his duties is exempt from murder charges, while others take the blame.

  “I’m glad to have you both,” said Piper. Was there a trace of warmth in his eyes as he glanced at Galen? Galen wanted to think so, even as he knew that he didn’t deserve it. Nothing’s changed. You’d still eat him alive.

  But Piper, in his court robes, with his face as cold as chiseled marble, did not look like he would be easily devoured.

  “Very well,” said the doctor, and swept into the guard station as if he were the Archon himself.

  Thirty-Four

  “Doctor Piper?” said Captain Mallory, rising to his feet. “How can I…” He trailed off, seeing the two paladins that had shouldered in after him. His expression, which had been professional and polite, soured significantly.

  There was a guard on the desk who was supposed to keep people from wasting the captain’s time. Piper had simply stalked up and informed him that he was on official business and the guard had taken one look at his outfit and hastily waved him through. Stephen and Galen walked in after him, and when the guard had protested, Stephen said only, “We’re with him.”

  “Oh,” said Mallory, “it’s you.” He sighed heavily. “I have nothing to say to you. Doctor Piper, is there some reason that you’ve brought these…gentlemen…to my office?”

  “Constable Earstripe has been assisting me with my research,” said Piper crisply. “These gentlemen have informed me that he has been arrested.”

  Mallory’s eyes flicked between the three men. Galen wondered if he was recalling the long ago pretense of being lovers. Either way, he’s dividing the world into Us and Them and I believe that Piper just firmly became one of Them. I wonder if that’ll make his work harder in the future.

  I wonder if he cares.

  Judging by the coldness radiating off Piper, the doctor did not care. His eyes were flat and every motion bespoke tight control. If Galen had seen a man walking toward him who moved like that, he would have reached for his sword.

  “Earstripe is helping the guard with its inquiries into a difficult matter,” said Mallory.

  “From inside a jail cell,” snapped Galen. Both Mallory and Piper ignored him, their eyes locked.

  Piper stepped forward and sat down in the chair in front of the desk. Stephen took the other chair. Galen looked around, found a third chair, and hauled it into place on Piper’s other side, so that they flanked him like an honor guard.

  Confronted with the fact that apparently the trio was not going to be leaving, Mallory’s lips thinned. “I have other matters that require my time.”

  “As do we,” said Piper, in that hoarfrost voice. “The sooner that this matter is cleared up, the sooner we can be on our way.”

  Mallory clearly weighed the benefits of sitting versus calling for the paladins to be thrown out of the office. I suppose he could charge us all with trespassing, but he has to know that it would never stick in court, and that one of the Rat’s lawyers would take great pleasure in making him look like a fool before the judge. He sat.

  “This is an internal investigation of the guard,” said Mallory. “The Rat has no business interfering.”

  “Do the courts?” asked Piper silkily.

  Mallory’s eyes narrowed at the reminder of Piper’s status. “Once the investigation has been completed, if charges must be brought, perhaps.”

  “And how long will an injured person sit in a jail cell while it is being completed? Earstripe was near death several weeks ago. Are you willing to let him die while you investigate?”

  “I didn’t write the arrest order,” snapped Mallory. “I don’t know what you hope to gain by coming here. I’m not the one conducting the investigation. Don’t blame me.”

  Galen had an answer for that which would have involved Mallory, his anatomy, and the anatomy and legitimacy of many of his relatives, but before he could start, he felt Piper’s boot nudge him sharply in the calf. He glanced at the doctor, who flicked his eyes to Stephen. Galen shut his mouth and waited.

  “We are not seeking blame,” said Stephen, in his deep, sad voice. “We are seeking responsibility.”

  “Responsibility,” said Mallory, with venom. “With the Rat? Don’t give me that shit. It’s so goddamn black and white for you people. The rest of us have to live down here.””

  Galen would have had a lot to say about that as well, but Piper’s foot was now pressed down hard on his.

  “We’ve worked together closely before, Mallory,” said Stephen. “I have always believed that you were a good man.”

  Mallory tried to meet the paladin’s gaze. Galen could have told him that it wasn’t going to work. Stephen in full more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger mode was a force to be reckoned with. Galen would much rather the other paladin came at him with a sword than with that disappointed voice. And this is why Piper had you bring Stephen. Good thinking. I would have gone in hot and gotten us kicked out of the guard post.

  To his credit, Mallory held out for nearly fifteen seconds before he crumbled. “Maybe I’m not the man you think I am,” he muttered. “But you and that damned bishop have made it impossible to do our damned jobs any more. You expect us to sit back and let hardened criminals go free, when you know damned well they’ll end up right back in front of a judge for something worse next time.”

  “We are not talking about a hardened criminal,” snapped Galen. “We’re talking about Earstripe. He hasn’t done anything.”

  “The internal investigation will turn that up, then,” said Mallory.

  “If you’d listened to him to begin with, you wouldn’t need an internal investigation. He’d have caught the killer and you’d give him a medal. But he did it anyway and he wasn’t even a guard at the time! You fired him, remember?”

  Mallory wouldn’t meet his eyes. “That’s as may be.”

  “You did inform the investigation that he had been fired, did you not?” asked Piper coolly.

  The captain hesitated just a fraction too long. “It doesn’t matter. Guards can’t simply quit their jobs, go after a criminal as a private citizen, and then be reinstated. Your precious bishop would have our necks.”

  “But it wouldn’t be an internal matter,” said Piper. “Would it?”

  Mallory fiddled with papers on his desk.

  “Captain Mallory…” said Stephen.

  “They didn’t ask me,” muttered Mallory.

  “And if this was any other one of your men, you would have moved heaven and earth to correct that,” said Stephen. He had a way of speaking quietly that somehow made him louder than everyone else in the room. “I know you. You are loyal to your people. Why didn’t you protect Earstripe as well?”

  “Is it because he proved you wrong?” asked Piper coldly. “Or simply because he’s a gnole?”

  Mallory winced. He didn’t speak for a long momen
t, and when he finally did, something in his voice had shifted. He sounded tired. “This all happened above my head, all right? They really didn’t ask me. Everybody’s been pissed at Beartongue for months and then one of her pet paladins goes stumbling in—” he jerked his head at Galen, leaving no doubt as to who the pet paladin was, “—and kills the bastard and she sends around one of her oh-so-fucking-polite letters rubbing our noses in it, and it was the last damn straw.”

  “If they can prove that it was improperly handled, or that Thomas was not killed in self-defense, they save face,” said Piper. “They can say, ‘Leave it to the guard next time.’”

  Mallory nodded.

  “You have no jurisdiction over paladins outside the city walls,” said Stephen. “But if Earstripe is a vigilante, using one of us as his weapon, then the guard will have jurisdiction over him.”

  Mallory nodded again, his shoulders sinking. “I’ll deny everything if you repeat this,” he said, “but some of the higher-ups aren’t that happy about gnoles. They weren’t happy about a gnole in the guard to begin with, and the thought of a gnole executing a human has them completely riled up.”

  “Earstripe saved my life when Thomas tried to kill me,” said Piper. “Galen killed him to keep him from shooting us with a crossbow. Again.”

  The guard captain blinked. “That wasn’t exactly in the report.”

  “I begin to think that I would very much like to see this report,” said Piper.

  Mallory rubbed his forehead, then reached into his desk and pulled out a form. He scrawled a half-dozen words and sealed it with wax. The three men waited while he stamped it with a seal the size of Galen’s thumb.

  “That’ll get you in to see Tamsin,” he said, still not looking at them. He tossed it across the desk to Stephen. “You tell him what you told me. I don’t say he’ll listen. He’d like to see the bishop put in her place as much as the rest of us. But that gets you five minutes with him, and that’s as much of my neck as I’m willing to put on the line for you.”