Chapter 23
The next day started much as I had anticipated. Rose and Marc were both in good moods and feeling entirely too chatty. I ignored them through most of breakfast. Eventually of course they tired of my reticence and started asking more direct questions. I suspect Marc would have waited, he knew me well enough to recognize my moods, but Rose was having none of it.
“Are you going to tell us what’s wrong or spend the entire day brooding?” Rose said finally.
My first impulse was to lash out at her. I badly wanted to hurt someone, to give vent to my emotion, but I didn’t. Instead I reminded her of that night, when we raided the warehouse, and the man I had killed. The one she had suggested hiding afterward.
“You’re still beating yourself up over something that happened over a year ago?” she interrupted.
“No, if you’ll let me finish, I’ll tell you,” I ground out with some irritation. “I doubt you recall, but the man I killed that night was named Jonathan Tucker.”
She started to argue about my use of the term, ‘killed’, I could see it in her face as she opened her mouth. Luckily Marc stopped her, putting a finger to her lips. As smart as Rose was she still hadn’t picked up on the heart of the problem.
“I met his grandchildren yesterday,” I said at last, and then I stopped. They both stared at me in astonishment. Rose had put her hand over her mouth in an expression of more shock than I could ever recall her showing before. “Their names are Peter and Lily Tucker and they hate me with a passion. Peter came to look for a chance to stick a knife in me during the ceremony yesterday, but his sister forced him to go home.”
“How did you learn their names?” asked Rose.
“I took on another man’s appearance and followed them home,” I answered her, and then I described the conversation I had had with them.
Marc whistled admiringly, “That was quick thinking my friend.”
“It still doesn’t help me help them,” I replied. “From the looks of things they were desperate for money and I don’t think either of them have an income.”
Rose stood up and took my hands. “Stand up,” she said sternly. I humored her, not sure what she had in mind, but after I had risen she put her arms around me and embraced me. Then she leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. “You are a sweet man Mordecai, I can see why Penny loves you, but you cannot take the weight of the world upon your shoulders.”
I returned her hug, and then I replied, “What would you have me do? Ignore them?”
She didn’t let go of me. “No, let me take care of it. I know the city and my father has the resources here to help them. I’ll make sure their fortunes change for the better and they need never know you were the cause.” I felt another pair of arms around me as she finished. Marc had joined the hug.
“I second the lady’s idea,” he said.
“Fine!” I answered with some exasperation, shaking myself loose from the two of them. It was impossible to fall into despair with friends such as these. “I want to know everything you discover, as well as how you help them,” I told Rose.
“Naturally,” she said. “You can trust my discretion.”
The sound of a knock came from the hallway. The door to the dining room was open but Harold had knocked on the doorframe to let us know he was entering, since we appeared to be in a personal conversation. I had to give him credit, for all his brawn Harold was as considerate as anyone I had ever met. “Sorry,” he said as he entered. “Hope I didn’t interrupt, but I’m terribly hungry.”
Marc answered, “No, come in and eat. You should hear all this as well.” Marc pointed at a chair and slid a plate of sausages in that direction. Rose and I sat down as well and after a few minutes she and Marc had brought Harold up to date on our conversation.
“So that’s why you ran off and left me yesterday,” Harold said after they had finished.
“That about sums it up, yes,” I told him. I could see he was still upset. He was probably having trouble figuring out how to express his anger toward his liege-lord. Honesty, integrity, and respect for my station were waging a hard fought battle in his mind.
“I really wish you had told me what you intended to do,” he said at last. “My job here is to protect you and if you don’t trust me I can’t possibly succeed.”
His wording impressed me; obviously he had a brain between his ears. “That makes sense Harold. I do trust you by the way, but when you told me that you couldn’t obey my order you effectively ended our conversation. Do you understand why?”
He shook his head, “But Lord Dorian told me…”
“Lord Dorian nothing!” I interrupted. “I understand why he told you that but when it comes down to the line you have to know who makes the final decisions, even if they conflict with your assigned task.”
“Yes your Lordship,” he answered a bit sullenly.
“You may think I’m being heavy handed here but nothing that occurs around me is normal. I frequently learn things long before anyone else is aware of them. Therefore if you are to serve me you must accept that sometimes I will give an order that may not make sense. Can you accept that?”
“Yes sir,” he replied.
I let my expression soften. “I’m sorry for putting you in that situation Harold. I will try to avoid doing that in the future. I will also try to give you more information whenever possible.”
The tension between Harold and me was much better after that. Eventually Rose got up and headed for the door. Marc spoke up then, “What’s your plan for today Rose?”
“I still haven’t found a blacksmith that wants to move to Washbrook yet so I thought I would get an early start,” she announced.
“I don’t plan to return for a couple of days,” I said to reassure her.
She frowned, “I didn’t think you had anything left to do in Albamarl.”
“Well I don’t, but I plan to use my time productively. I have a lot of distractions at home, but here things are relatively quiet. I thought I’d use a couple of days to make use of the library and work on some things I’ve learned recently,” I said. More specifically I wanted to try and understand some of the unfamiliar enchanting schemata I had found in the book I had recovered.
“I see,” she answered. “Perhaps if I’m lucky I will find your smith for you before you finish.”
“If not I’ll come back for you in a week,” I told her. “It really isn’t a bother for me.”
She left after that and I retired to the library. Marc had some sort of plan to approach the church of Celior. He was hoping to gain access to their archives somehow. I had already asked him if he wanted my help but he was being very tight-lipped about his plan so I gave him some space. I had faith in him, if he needed my help he would ask.
That left me and Harold on our own. Let me clarify… that left me to my own devices, while poor Harold was stuck trying to figure out how to keep the guards we had brought with us from Washbrook from becoming too bored. I felt a great deal of sympathy for him, and then I put it out of my mind entirely.
I had been trying to understand the ‘trans-spatial storage device’ design for hours. It seemed maddeningly familiar, since many of the runes involved were used in teleportation circles, yet the rationale behind it still eluded me. A large part of the problem was probably the fact that I didn’t really know what it was meant to do, so the design confused me.
The enchantment seemed to be broken into two parts, much like teleportation circles were, but both halves were kept perpetually activated. That was the simple part, what really bothered me was that one half seemed to be designed to constantly alter itself according to a mathematical algorithm. Even worse, that algorithm was dependent upon the exact location of the first half of the enchantment.
“This makes no sense,” I said running my hands through my hair for the hundredth time. “It’s as if they intend for one side of this thing to be permanently affixed while the other moves constantly.” There is something to be said for talking to yourself aloud. Sometimes it enables you to see what should have been patently obvious to you all along.
“I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid,” I told myself. I had let the mathematics obscure my vision of how it was meant to work. One end would be designed around some sort of collapsible opening, such as a hinged ring for
