Chapter 2: The Fox, the Cat, and the Rat - Scene 7 (excerpt)
Tomar, the steward of the prince-warlord, has called Rahendo & Ryhunzo, and also the orphan Agneth, to his office to discuss the progress they made in the murder of a young nobleman. Agneth is an orphan of a group who call themselves the Stray Boys who helped our sleuths solve a previous case, related in Dagger of Deception.
Tomar Parmingh let his eyes wander over the three young men in his private office. Two had sat down, the third kept behind them, standing at a respectful distance.
“Grab a chair and come sit with us, Agneth,” Ryhunzo said. “No reason you should remain standing.”
Tomar’s mouth twitched into an almost-smile as Agneth pulled over a chair and gingerly sat down.
“So, gentlemen,” he said. “You have made significant progress in just one day. This pleases me. We now know who killed Roan of Durnsley. Only the minor matter of why they killed him remains. And whether that ‘why’ has anything to do with the Mahpodah.”
“Mahpodah?” Agneth wondered. “Strange word.”
“Ancient Baltoc,” Tomar explained. “It means uprising, rebellion. Agneth, I must insist that you don’t go blabbing around what you’re about to learn.”
“Blabbing around? Who do you think will talk to, or, for that matter, listen to one of the Stray Boys, eh… eh…”
“You can call me Tomar. The Gods and Goddesses know they do.” He wagged his chin in the general direction of the pages.
“Quite an informal shop you run here, Master Tomar… Let me at least call you Master Tomar. It’s easier for me.”
“Suit yourself, Master Agneth. I have your word then?”
“About the hush-hush stuff? Of course.”
“Good. Well then… Let me paint you a picture of the predicament we find ourselves in. We are reasonably certain that it was Sir Quillian who commissioned the murder. Except that the Fenn brothers were supposed to kill Rowain, not Sir Quillian’s son Roan. Was it a simple mistake caused by the change of clothes, or is there more to it than meets the eye? For simplicity’s sake, I rule out—for the moment—the possibility Sir Quillian hated his son to such a degree as to want him dead.”
“Maybe the fact that he was visibly grief-stricken and a sobbing heap of misery helped you come to that conclusion,” Rahendo said.
“Yes, it did.”
“How is he doing, by the way?” Ryhunzo asked.
“Sir Quillian? He’s still a blubbering, snottering wreck.” Tomar replied. “Renda tends to him, and Obyann checks in regularly to see how he’s doing. Sir Quillian and his third cousin, once removed, can’t stay here much longer. We can’t have Anaxantis and his court associated with this unfortunate event.”
“You want them back in Durnsley,” Rahendo said.
“Yes, as soon as humanly possible, and we can’t let them go on their own, Sir Quillian being crippled by grief and the mental capacities of Rowain being questioned. I don’t count the four guards they brought. We informed them of what happened and I gave them lodgings in one of the empty barracks. ”
“Not to mention that, if Rowain was the intended victim, the Fox, the Cat, and the Rat might have realized their mistake and try again.” Ryhunzo smiled pleasantly at Tomar.
“I hadn’t even thought of that,” Tomar said. “Thank you for drawing my attention to yet another potential nightmare.”
“You need an escort.” Rahendo said, stating the obvious.
“Yes, but that’s not the only reason I’m sending you—”
“What, ho, hey… hold your freaking horses,” Agneth exclaimed. “Who exactly do you mean by ‘you,’ if I may ask?”
“Let me finish, Master Agneth. The escort back home is not only necessary, now more than ever, it’s also the perfect pretext to send your good selves to Durnsley Castle to investigate how far the Mahpodah might be involved in this, eh, unfortunate incident.” The additional advantage being that these two will be out of my hair for a while, he added silently.
“And how exactly are we supposed to do that?” Rahendo asked.
“The pretext will be that you are investigating Roan’s murder. Durnsley is an important noble Highlander House and his murder has taken place in Lorseth, the residence of the prince and lord governor. Two reasons this deplorable case falls under his jurisdiction. There is also the need to keep the prince’s reputation blameless, and more of such malarkey.”
“That’s not an answer, Tomar. That’s just an excuse. Again, how are we supposed to do all that?”
“Just be your busy, nosy selves and find out whatever you can. Put your natural, unwholesome inquisitiveness to good use for once.” He gave Rahendo a piercing look. “Can you honestly tell me, by all the Gods and Goddesses, that you’re not burning with curiosity to know exactly why they murdered Roan and if he was indeed the intended victim?”
“Oh, well… burning, I don’t know… Smoldering, maybe.”
“Fair enough. Of course, I will give you a charter, appointing you two as special personal emissaries of His Highness, giving you all authority to interrogate whomever you deem necessary. After all, if Anaxantis trusted you with a delicate mission to his mother, why shouldn’t I be allowed to commit a similar folly?” The steward hesitated, as if already regretting what he had just said. “Please, gentlemen, please… don’t—do not—abuse the privilege.”
“Who? We?” Ryhunzo said with an earnest face, putting his right hand with outstretched fingers over his heart. “Perish the thought that we should ever betray the trust placed in us by our liege or by you.”
“And somehow that is of no comfort to me at all.” Tomar sighed. “But it can’t be helped. We must get to the bottom of this. Not a smidgen of suspicion may remain on Anaxantis, his court, or my… eh, his administration.” He took a deep breath. “And we need to learn as much as we can about this purported insurrection. I’m sorry, gentlemen, to lay such a weighty matter in your feeble hands, believe me. But the times call for desperate measures.”
“You know exactly how to make someone feel appreciated,” Rahendo muttered.
“So,” Agneth intervened, “may I suppose I’m not needed any longer—”
“You may not,” Tomar said, his voice cutting like ice.
Agneth shrunk back in his chair.
“You’re going with them. I’m sure you’ll have a blast of a time, the three of you.”
“But why?” Agneth complained. “I’m no noble. Far from it, actually.”
“And that’s precisely why. You can go places they can’t. People that won’t speak to them, will speak to you.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Agneth asked, a rebellious streak in his voice. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
“Of course you do. Just give me a reason that I can put in my report sent out daily to His Highness why you obstinately refuse to assist him in his hour of need. You know, to the prince who has been so generous to you and yours and now could use a little help—”
“All right, all right already. No need to make me weep like a little girl. I’ll go,” Agneth interrupted Tomar. “Don’t expect me to call you my lord and bow to you at every turn and corner,” he added for the benefit of the pages.
“Your cover is that you’re their personal servant. You’ll call them my lord—repulsive as it may be to you—and you’ll bow to them whenever anyone can see or hear you, or even when the slightest possibility exists that someone could see or overhear you. What you do in private is none of my business.”
This almost caused all three young men to protest vehemently, but they all simultaneously thought better of it.
“Fine then,” Agneth agreed reluctantly. “I don’t like it, but I kind of understand it. The only thing we have to agree upon is my fee, then.”
Tomar raised an eyebrow and gave Agneth a stern look. Neither had the slightest effect.
“I’m one of the best earners of the Stray Boys. As it is, you’re literally robbing food from the mouths of innocent babes. I think it’s only fair that I—and by I, I mean the Stray Boys—receive compensation for having to miss out on my earnings.”
Tomar rolled his eyes.
“How have I offended the Gods and Goddesses that they see fit to poison my life, not only with an extortionist robber-prince with megalomaniac and costly projects, but also with rapacious, money-hungry orphans? I feel like a candle that’s being burned at both ends.”
Agneth crossed his arms.
“I’m sure I’m asking for far less than what His Highness’s harbor costs.”
Tomar flinched.
“You had to remind me.”
“A rioghal,” Agneth stated brashly.
“Two moltars,” Tomar countered.
Agneth hesitated.
“Two silver pieces is a lot of money, Agneth,” Ryhunzo said.
“My next bid will be lower, Master Agneth,” the steward threatened.
“You drive a hard bargain, Master Tomar, but all right, three moltars it is.”
“Two.”
“Two, then. To be added to our account today, now, while I watch the clerk write it down and with them here witnessing everything.”
“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Master Agneth,” Tomar concluded the negotiations with a wry smile. “Now, let’s discuss the practical side of your mission.”
You can also read the first excerpt,
Chapter 2, Scene 3.
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Welcome Wanderer,
It is several months after the victorious Battle of the Zinchara (see 
