Resurrected Honor - Act II - Future’s Prelude

By N.M. King Copyright 1998; All Rights Reserved

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I

Concessions

Lawgiver Trisbin looked up from the scrolls and parchments strewn across his desk as his aide entered the room. A tall man, Rolph Felamai had dark brown hair and charcoal eyes that flashed with intensity and honest intelligence. He had been an invaluable supporter, established in the honored position of advisor regarding all district matters.

Rolph approached the grand ulm-wood desk and bowed at the waist, one hand holding a rolled parchment. "My lord, we have a response regarding terms." He offered forward a parchment. "I fear it is as you expected. The Commander refuses to approach Lord Clemoun for payment of damages to the citizens involved. He continues to insist that Lord Clemoun had the right to demand recompense for unpaid tribute due to the fact the citizens were his tenants."

Trisbin scanned the document before tossing it aside. "A more convincing argument is apparently necessary."

Rolph straightened his tunic richly embroidered with the Trisbin colors of crimson and ivory. "My lord, in order to put an end to this conflict, might I suggest we admit to an impasse?"

"I will put an end to the conflict when it has been justly resolved, Rolph. Not before." Trisbin stood, pressing his large hands palm downward on the desk as he rose. "I have a dispute with the Clemoun Lawgiver, therefore I will approach the Elder and have him mediate the resolve. Send a messenger to the Sanctur to arrange mediation."

"There has not been a mediation of this kind for years!"

"I can no longer remain blind to the pain of others, even should they reside outside my land's boundary. Things must change!"

Rolph bowed, turning to leave the room as Trisbin stepped to the long, slender window of his room in the southeast turret of Trisbin Castle. Upon Trisbin's return from his summons to the Sanctur nearly two weeks before he had more clearly noticed the conditions of those citizens directly under his influence. Guilt-driven anger had set Trisbin to a course of remediation, doing his utmost to nullify his previous negative effect on his district. Previous petitions from the Trisbin Guild and Merchant Union had been resolved according to their order of importance. Trisbin had also seen to the reconditioning of the quickly stagnating militia while contracting the repair of the eight naval vessels rotting in his docks. Now life again resonated in the streets of the inner city, the chambers of Trisbin Castle bustling with petitioners and businessmen. Life flowed from every avenue, the busyness around Trisbin Castle rejuvenating his soul.

Trisbin turned from the window. The loss of his wife and daughter still pressed upon him, but the activity surrounding him lessened the intensity, as did his decision to use all available resources to end a gross injustice. He had taken up a Banner of Protection, and protect them he would.

There sounded a knock just as Trisbin sat at his desk. "Enter." Rolph entered, expression harried. "What is it?"

"We've had a report from the Network in answer to the summons," he reported somewhat breathless. "In answer to the summons, Clemoun left for the Sanctur two days past!"

Trisbin sharply stood. "Alone?"

"The specifics of his caravan are unknown, but the Guild's Master Consul is with him!"

He swore as he strode toward the door, Rolph on his heels. "You know as well as I that we cannot trust the Consul not to have some plot well in hand. How long they've coveted the Elder's power! Prepare a guard and send a messenger ahead to alert the tower of my arrival."

"Yes, my lord." With that, Rolph hurried to the barracks.

Trisbin refused to allow the Elder to be surrounded by Clemoun's minions with only the Sanctur's Guard as protection, adept as they were. Civilian caravans journeyed slow, so the usual two- or three-day journey by horseback from Clemoun could take at least a week. His own military-trained caravan had a shorter distance to travel to the Sanctur and so would only take as many as four days-if the weather was poor. Those days before the Clemoun caravan's arrival would be sorely needed to prepare for any possible plot.

He motioned to a passing footman. "Get Militia Master Selk."

The footman disappeared down the hall just as an Inspector came into view. Trisbin recognized the man as Inspector Ellit, a trusted and honest Inspector well-liked by all in the district. "Inspector."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Have you a trusted friend?"

The Inspector raised an eyebrow. "My lord?"

"A friend. Someone among your Guild with whom you would trust your life."

"Yes, my lord. I believe I do."

"Good, for we journey to the Sanctur as soon as the guard is organized."

Inspector Ellit gave a nod. "I shall choose the Inspectors most appropriate and ready them for the journey."

With that assurance, the Inspector bowed and moved away, passing on one side of a powerfully built guardsman who approached. Dressed in tightly braided leather armor bearing the Militia Master rank insignia, he sported an axe holster on his back and a scar spanning from his right eyebrow to the center of his jaw. His gray-green eyes shone bright with intelligence slightly shadowed by the memories of war and the price of duty. His blond hair was shorn tight to his scalp with discernible streaks of gray serving as a clear testament to his 44 years. As Militia Master he was responsible for the continued training of all Weapons Masters in the district as well as the recruitment for Weapon Masters and Commanding Officers alike.

"Master Selk, we're bound for the Sanctur and must make good time. Lawgiver Clemoun and the Master Consul have set off for the tower two days past. Entrust the duty of recruitment to a subordinate and meet me at the barracks along with those of your students you believe most capable. Have them dress inconspicuously, as befits a caravan bound to pay tribute to the Elder."

Master Selk nodded brusquely and moved away, the stealth of his movements belying his mass. Selk had been with Trisbin for more than three decades, with only a small portion of that time serving as Militia Master and offering his expertise in the training of Trisbin's troops. Selk's intensive training by both Master Neile Straka and the previous Guard Captain at the Sanctur had guaranteed him a role of honor within any Echelon household. However, Trisbin's own history with the man had made consigning with anyone else an ignored option. Selk had grown up beside Micah Trisbin as a friend, standing by through the death of his wife and daughter while constantly offering silent encouragement and strength.

Trisbin stepped through the massive wooden doors of the castle to pause on the landing of the main stair. The district capital of Trisbin hadn't become the sprawling city of gluttony as Clemoun. Instead, Capital Trisbin held the feeling of community. Though the Echelon still had tendencies toward pride and arrogance, they were not without compassion for those citizens unable to care for themselves. Trisbin had welcomed the attitude after his return from the Sanctur, for while traveling through District Clemoun Trisbin had felt nothing but heaviness and oppression.

Militia Master Selk exited the Guild, then, and Trisbin made his way down the castle steps to meet him halfway. "Have you met with Par?"

"No, my lord."

"We will need the Network's expertise, Selk. I will make my way to the barracks to see how the men fare. You find Par."

Selk gave a brusque nod before heading away toward a tavern. Trisbin headed west to the barracks.

II

Master Selk pushed through the weathered doors of The Headless Horseman, glancing about the smoke-filled room at the odd assortment of travelers and ne'er-do-wells. Many kept their eyes carefully averted so as not to gain his attention. He kept these rogues on the defensive so they would think twice before challenging his authority. The few that did meet his gaze were either looking for a fight to feed their pride, or were acquaintances from the outer perimeter of farms.

When Selk caught sight of the persons he sought, twins fourteen years of age, he noticed their sudden slouch against the wall. Shunti and Lailim were never seen separate one from the other for very long. They were dressed in their usual travel-worn breeches, stained shirt and frayed vest, and held their eyes deliberately averted. Both had a tendency toward pilfering as well as the occasional tale of their exploits. Selk supposed the latter was the reason the Network had accepted them. Shunti and Lailim were a good source of information for the simple reason that they were ignored by mostly everyone that didn't have a previous knowledge of their... expertise.

"I can't take you nowhere," Shunti informed morosely, his startling silver eyes focused into his cup of spiced cider. "We just got back-" Lailim hissed and Shunti cringed, immediately sending her an apologetic glance.

"I'm amazed you've stayed on the Network's list of usable recruits for so long, Shunti," Selk commented, amused. "You have a tendency toward compulsive honesty."

"Leave him be," Lailim warned, and her dark brown eyes sparked with a hint of temper.

"My matter is important," Selk told her, Aor else I wouldn't bother with you." He focused on Shunti. "Take me and I will leave you to your mischief."

Shunti grumbled before pushing away the mug. "Like I've a choice. You'd box my ears if I didn't take you this instant. Par's upstairs, but I guess you'll want me to take you anyway. You don't trust me to say a bit of truth and think I'd skitter before you could box my ears."

"Let us say I know you too well to let you from my sight without first getting where I want to be."

Grumbling again, Shunti stood while casting a sidelong glance toward his sister. She sighed and sat back heavily in her chair. "Par's in a mood, so you better watch your step."

"I've seen and experienced them before with no detriment to my person."

"Too bad. I'd like to see you with a black eye." Shunti led him down the back hallway of the tavern and up the narrow stairs to the landing outside a simple door. The boy knocked.

"Enter, Shunti, and tell Selk to leave his axe outside. Last time he ruined my new couch."

Selk unfastened the massive sheath from his back and leaned it against the wall by the door. "It had best be here when I leave."

Shunti scoffed. "What use have I for that?" he grumbled as he ambled away. "Noisy. Too heavy. Can't pick a pocket with that around," he continued to mutter.

Selk stared after the boy in amusement before turning to enter the room, closing the door securely behind him. Para Sedi stood across from him, arms crossed and half smiling. In her late thirties, she sported short-cut red hair and brilliant green eyes. Her skin was pale, a stark contrast to an Iglan's normal olive complexion, and she had natural color in her cheeks. Par had intrigued Selk from the first when he had brought her before the Trisbin Lawgiver to answer for her crime of smuggling contraband to and from a conglomeration of merchants in Rosen Hills: A farming and trade community to the north. Good at deception and proud of it, she hadn't repented of her crimes. Instead, Selk had persuaded Lord Trisbin to reap Par's ability for the district's benefit.

For nearly ten years now Par had been in charge of cultivating and increasing the Network of spies and infiltrators that spanned the entire nation. She organized their reports and directed their information to the appropriate persons at the right time, never allowing a report through until its accuracy had been verified.

She put her hands on the hips of her dark leather breaches. "Well?"

"Lord Trisbin wants the Network's expertise on his trip to the Sanctur."

Par scoffed and turned away, motioning to an overstuffed chair of dark green and mahogany. Most of her furnishings seemed out of place-belonging, instead, in an Echelon manor. Selk didn't want to hazard a guess as to where she had acquired it.

Lounging her nearly six-foot frame into a chair across from him, she kicked her calf-hide boots up onto the matching ottoman. "Why are you in such a tizzy that Clemoun's on his way to the Sanctur? I'm sure the old boy there can take care of himself. He's done pretty good so far."

Selk lowered himself into the offered chair as he examined her cool expression. "That suggests he's had reason. What do you have to report?"

"Good for you," she congratulated, lacing her fingers behind her head. "I'm getting a little too generous with my words, it seems."

"Or you sought to have me ask."

Par's green eyes twinkled. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Is the activity at the Sanctur the cause of your ‘mood'?"

One of her auburn eyebrows arched upward. "Who said I was in a mood?"

"Shunti."

"He's the one in a mood," she laughed. "He and Lai got roughed up by Wolves on their way back from the Sanctur."

"Wolves near the Sanctur? They're growing bold."

Par nodded, and her expression grew serious. "They're raiding merchant caravans."

"Their tactics have changed?"

"They've got a new leader. A young buck thirsting for revenge. The last caravan they hit, yesterday, was actually heading to the Sanctur. Haven't heard of them making another move since."

"Hmm." Selk rubbed at his jaw. "They must be plotting a larger and more daring move."

"Or something scared them off."

Selk conceded the point with a nod. "Are these Wolves what the Elder had to defend himself against?"

"Hardly."

"Then what?"

She examined her nails. "Just some people coming and going."

"Par."

She raised her gaze to meet his, her expression innocence itself. "What?"

"Who arrived at the Sanctur?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

"Unless you tell me the Clemoun heir has risen from the dead, I doubt your news will shock." Par grinned, and Selk's eyebrow rose. "The heir? Alive?"

"He arrived on a merchant vessel now docked in Clemoun under Inspector guard. Very soon after that, he was sent off to the Sanctur."

"To claim his legacy?"

Par shook her head. "I don't know why they sent him, but he met up with the Apprentice and escorted her back to the Sanctur." She adjusted her position in the chair. "That's when it got interesting."

"Meaning?"

Par shrugged. AVail Straka arrived on a stretcher that night, escorted by ten Laisom."

"Laisom?" Selk repeated, nearly standing to his feet. "How can you be certain? We have neither heard nor seen from them in decades. Not since The Breaking."

"Then it's about time, isn't it?"

Selk's expression tightened. "Par, do you know what this could mean? The heir returned. Laisom appearing. An Apprentice chosen after three generations of waiting. Clemoun making his way to the Sanctur."

"War's brewing."

He brusquely nodded. "We'll be leaving within the hour."

"I'll be along."

Selk strode from the room, Par watching him until he had shut the door behind him. Then she stretched to her full length and rested her head back against the chair. Something big was coming. She could feel it in her very bones.

III

The Laisom, Layk and Kial, felt an odd push to stay distant from young Inspector Drisé as they continued toward District Trisbin. Considering the altercation the previous night resulting in the disturbing and horrific death of Head Inspector Tul, they expected him to urge an explanation. Instead, the Inspector remained silent and The Mighty pressed them to keep their horses always ahead of the young man. So, the morning passed with Layk and Kial reminiscing about their time at the Sanctur and the impression it had made.

Then the conversation drifted to theological discussions of the bloody wars within the Dena as well as how they were such a stark contrast to the teachings of the Dirn. From there, they moved to the prophecies of the Final Torment and the Eternal Eden, all with poignant awareness of the detached and cool Inspector behind.

Kial.

Kial gave a blink of surprise, halting mid‑sentence at the Voice's sudden Call in his spirit. Yes, Lord?

Invite a question.

Laisom exchanged curious expressions before the tall black man pulled back on the reins and guided his mount toward the Inspector. Layk didn't follow. Lead him to a specific question? Kial asked.

That is his choice.

One eyebrow twitched as he pulled his horse even with the Inspector's. "You have been distant most of the day, young sir. What question has perturbed you so greatly?"

The Inspector raised his eyes from the scrutiny of a collection of passages within his leather book. "Why are the Laisom held at such great distance from the Sanctur?"

Kial raised his eyebrow yet again. He hadn't thought the direct question would come so easy, nor be on a subject such as the true name of their identity. He laughed. "You catch me by surprise, Inspector. We were of the mind that our existence remained secret from you of the Guild."

"The Elder admitted to me this truth," the young man responded, almost absently. "Why do you not answer my question? Why have the Laisom been exiled in the same manner as the Yrka‑Dir? You broke no law."

Kial regarded him with a slight smile, the young man's tenacity bringing memories of a life that seemed so far distant. "You are correct, Inspector."

"Then why exile?"

"There has been no exile."

"If no exile, why are you not at the Sanctur? You are of their Order."

"No," Kial countered. "We are of The Mighty. He alone chooses our actions and our path."

The Inspector tapped the leather book. "Does He not do so with the Elder and those of the Sanctur?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you separate?"

"It was what He chose to best serve His will."

"What will could He have that would make such an action or choice necessary? Separation from an icon such as the Sanctur has many possible repercussions-"

"Inspector, wait," Kial interrupted, chuckling. "Wait. Allow me time to hear the answers I must give."

The Inspector gave a brief nod.

His questions are swift, Locwa, Kial observed, moving his gaze from the Inspector's intense expression. Am I to answer all to the best of my ability? Or am I to wait for Your Voice with each?

Follow that instinct of spirit I have nurtured within you. Be aware of My check in your heart, but you may answer as you feel led.

Surprised at the answer, Kial didn't question it. He refocused his attention back to the young Inspector. "I believe your question was why we are not within the Sanctur?"

"Yes. The tower is your icon of belief and power. If you were not exiled, why would you keep yourselves deliberately separate?"

"It is not necessarily a deliberate action," Kial corrected. "Many, if not all, would gladly enroll our service with the Sanctur if the choice were given. However, the Call upon our hearts has always been to be The Mighty's tool and drifting Spirit. Not to be a portion of an icon', and quite possibly losing the power to sway and inspire."

"Drifting Spirit?"

"My apologies. I shall be more precise. The Sanctur and those within have little freedom to do what The Mighty has instructed, save that which is allowed within the Order's walls. The Laisom, however, are free to wander throughout Igla and touch the hearts and spirits of those who need a helping hand. All The Mighty asks is that we remain silent regarding our name until His permission is given to reveal our existence."

"Why would your silence be such an important condition?"

"I do not know."

The Inspector examined Kial's expression before moving his focus back to the book carefully balanced against his knees and the pommel of his saddle. "Your name is safe."

"We thank you, Inspector." About to urge his horse forward, Kial felt an immediate tug on his spirit to remain. So, Kial adjusted his seat, watching the young man's profile as he waited for the impending question.

The Inspector's gray‑green eyes met Kial's black ones. "Why did you leave the Guild?"

Memories flooded Kial's spirit - emotions submerged beneath calm and cool detachment burning his heart, twisting his mind and tainting a beautiful creation - Kial smiled slightly before he looked away, reliving the experiences within and without. Is he ready for such a revelation as that? Was I?

It will be his choice to listen or to hear.

"The letter of the law did not stand as the complete answer to my questions," Kial admitted finally. "I was empty. Cold. I could not believe such to be the extent of my existence." A Presence surrounded Kial on the wind, and his smile broadened. "It was not enough."

"Why?"

Kial's gaze met the Inspector's. "Though I had all the knowledge the Guild could offer, though I myself instructed those who strove to find their place within the Guild's chilling persona, it only served to deepen my hunger. The law did not fill that hunger."

"How did you escape Expulsion?"

Kial looked away again. "I did not."

"What is your meaning?"

"I excused myself from the Guild, placing myself on a Quest to find my questions and answers." Kial suddenly grinned as his eyes sought the Inspector's. "I believe the Master Consul has recorded the Quest as ended in my death. I consider it not yet complete."

The Inspector watched Kial's expression a moment before closing his book and tucking it safely away. "Do you regret your time there?"

"No. They taught me much. They pressed me forward. The Mighty used that past to break me so that I could be made whole."

The Inspector looked up, narrowing his eyes as he stared out at the horizon. "Hence the name: Laisom. Broken."

Kial slightly adjusted his position in the saddle. "Yes."

"The hunger for knowledge? Has it been satiated?"

"Yes and no, Inspector." The Inspector met his gaze. "I am no longer empty and cold, but my hunger has evolved into a higher need for more knowledge of The Mighty and His purpose for my life. In this hunger I am content."

The Inspector regarded Kial for the briefest moment of confusion before looking away. "Why was there such a long absence of Laisom? There is mention of them in the Dena, but then there was nothing." His gaze met Kial's again. "Why the silence? Why the renewed presence?"

"We are needed."

"Did you determine that need?"

"No, Inspector. It was the Comforter who heard the pleas of our people."

Something within the Inspector's gaze hardened. "Yet the suffering continues."

Kial slightly nodded. "As does the sickness before a fever is broken."

The Inspector looked away. "Who was the first Laisom of this age?" he finally asked.

Once more surprised at the question, his spirit felt pressed to answer. "A man who gave his life to save another. The man whose death caused The Breaking. Lord of the Laicton district: Aible Laicton."

The young man's eyes once more focused on Kial, and they glittered and broiled with a million questions. Kial knew how the history had been rewritten to show the echelon House destroyed by plague. Having a Lawgiver die a martyr to the Order would have given the Elder too much importance in the people's eyes. After all, the Laicton family had been well respected and powerful, more influential as Trisbin himself, and in all matters of his authority he had consulted the Elder and the Brothers.

"Interesting, is it not?" Kial asked softly.

"What proof do you have as to the cause of his death?"

"Eye witness accounts from the Elder whose life he saved, from the Brothers whom attempted to revive him, and his son who refused his place as Sir and Heiren because of his grief."

"What occurred?"

"To cause the Lawgiver's death?"

"No. To cause the necessity of his presence." The Inspector's gaze continued its intense examination of Kial's expression.

"To request a mediation with the other Lawgivers, in an attempt to settle the rising differences caused by the growing rift within the Order."

"Why?"

"‘Why', Inspector?" Kial's eyebrow rose. "Why would he ask for mediation?"

"Yes. The difficulties were within the Order. How were they affecting the districts?"

"The Sanctur effects our life on Igla, Inspector, for it is the Sanctur that houses the Shepherd of our people. To have a rift there would cause upheaval throughout. Hence, The Breaking."

The Inspector gave a firm shake of his head. "No. The Breaking was caused by the confusion created by the Lawgiver's death. If the conflict had been contained within the Sanctur, the other Lawgivers may not have seen the need for action."

Kial momentarily considered the point. "Perhaps," he said carefully, Ayet the people within the Sanctur are deserving of protection just as those outside. Do you not think Lord L'Aictìne may have been attempting to give them that? There were people of three districts within the Sanctur. Would it not stand to reason that a mediation between three Lawgivers would have begun a healing of the rift?"

"It was none of his concern," the Inspector pressed, adamant. "The law specifies that issues within the Sanctur are out of the Lawgiver's jurisdiction."

Kial examined the Inspector's chilled facial expression as he heard Layk's signal of approaching riders. His heart is not ready. He is defined by the letters and not the spirit. Kial changed his focus to the approaching guard. They wore the Trisbin colors and crest.

"Justice has no jurisdiction, Inspector. This truth is likely the direct cause to the conflict resulting in the need for your mediation." Kial sent the Inspector a sidelong glance. "Yes?" He urged his horse forward.

IV

Lord Trisbin reined in his massive, golden gelding. Squinting against the glare of the sun, he saw four approaching figures. The forward scouts had previously reported three men on horseback less than a mile beyond the caravan. Master Selk had immediately left to intercept them. Now he returned with the three men following directly behind.

Two were dressed in a familiar style of loose-fitting uniform that had often been used by Master Neile's students: Blue in color with white flames embroidered on the trim and no House insignia. The tall black man wore no weaponry, but his counterpart wore an ancient scabbard with an even older style of weapon sheathed within. Their younger traveling companion dressed as a commoner, but both his expression and his countenance held something vaguely familiar.

Trisbin adjusted his seating. "What is this you've brought me, Master Selk? Guests? Recruits? Spies?"

Selk pulled up short, looking over his shoulder as the three men continued to approach. "Doubtlessly one of the three, my lord."

Trisbin examined Selk's expression as he continued to gauge the trio. Once they had come to a halt to Selk's left, Trisbin gestured. "What struck you as suspicious, Master Selk?"

Selk gestured to the youngest of the three. "He is of the Clemoun Guild."

Trisbin shifted his gaze from Selk to the young man. There was a distant expression in the startling intensity of those gray-green eyes. "Is this true?"

"It is," the young man said simply.

The statement raised Trisbin's eyebrow. "Easily answered, I see, but no explanation offered. This causes suspicion of your motives."

The young Inspector glanced toward Selk as if gauging an opponent. Then he refocused his attention to Trisbin. "I have been sent to mediate a resolve, my lord Trisbin."

"Inspector, mediation thus far has proved ineffectual. I have been forced to consult a higher power."

"The Elder?"

"Yes." The Inspector said nothing further, so Trisbin focused his attention on the other men. "I'm hesitant to voice my suspicions, gentlemen, for fear that I will say too much in front of your comrade."

The man with the pale brown hair bowed, and Trisbin's eyebrow twitched at the proper greeting. "Thank you for your discretion, but it's unnecessary."

"Tell me who I have the pleasure of meeting this day." Although Trisbin doubted the man would confess to a House alliance.

"I am Layk. My dark friend here is Kial."

Nodding, Trisbin motioned to the young man. "And you, lad?"

"Inspector Drìse," Layk introduced.

"Drisé," the young man corrected, the name causing a twitch to Trisbin's still-raised eyebrow. "Ostiyn Drisé, Full Inspector. Clemoun Guild."

"I see," Trisbin said slowly, glancing toward Layk's amused expression as he regarded the young Inspector. Trisbin motioned toward Selk. "This is Militia Master Selk. I, of course, am Micah Trisbin, Lord and Lawgiver of District Trisbin."

"‘Militia Master'," Layk repeated. "I didn't realize there were any in existence."

"I am the last," Selk informed simply. "For now."

"Prospects?"

Trisbin smirked. "Selk always has prospects. The last five haven't ended as hoped, but he doesn't let the fact squelch his optimism. In fact, he has another pair of possibilities that are simply unavailable for testing at the moment. Although neither have the appropriate amount of combat experience, he's willing to overlook that due to their overall ability-"

Inspector Drìse/Drisé urged his horse forward suddenly, pointedly ignoring Master Selk's movement toward his axe. "Lord Trisbin, I must confess that mediation was not my only cause for journeying to Trisbin."

Trisbin gestured for Selk to ease his stance. He did so. "No?"

"The Guild in Clemoun has had reports of slave auctions within your district. I have come to ascertain the truth, as well as find those responsible."

"Slave auctions?" Trisbin's eyes sparked as he focused on Selk. "What have you heard?"

"Nothing."

"I must speak with the Guild members you have traveling with you, Lord," the Clemoun Inspector informed. "They would-"

"They would know nothing more," Trisbin interjected, his eyes pin-pointing those of the young Inspector. "If they did, I would have been informed. I do not know how the Guild does business in Clemoun, Inspector, but in Trisbin I am the law; with respect to the Elder of course."

"Even so, I have questions in need of answers."

"Very well. Master Selk, lead this young Inspector to the Guild's wagon."

Selk brusquely nodded, immediately leading the young man away.

Trisbin turned to Layk and Kial, offering both an easy smile. "It has been too long since I've held such honored guests. Tell me, why do you travel with such a man as this?"

Layk returned his smile. "The Mighty wished it, my lord Trisbin. We're to offer support."

"I wish you blessings then."

"Thank you."

Trisbin gestured toward the caravan. "Am I able to persuade you to join us to the Sanctur?"

Layk glanced toward the Inspector's retreating figure. "Unfortunately, if the Inspector chooses to make his report and journey onto Trisbin..."

Trisbin nodded again, and then he motioned for them to follow him. "Come, gentlemen. Let us talk of The Mighty and His many mercies."

The Laisom duo followed Trisbin as he made his way alongside the caravan.

V

Drisé could feel the Militia Master's intense scrutiny as they silently made their way to the Guild's wagon. While there wasn't necessarily suspicion in the gaze, there were definite twinges of wariness. Both had been expected.

"Why did you offer the knowledge of your secondary duty, Inspector?" the Militia Master finally inquired.

Drisé's mind remained dangerously quiet as the question settled around them. His instinct had taken full control of his tongue for that admittance, speaking the words before he had a chance to restrict their access. "As a means to an end." Drisé knew his voice revealed nothing, but there was felt a twinge within of something he couldn't recognize.

"Are you to be contacted?"

"Yes." The Inspector very nearly pressed his lips together, at a loss as to why he was seemingly unable to control his tongue. Drisé's instinct continued to overpower his well-trained aptitude for vagueness and quiet.

The Militia Master gave a brief nod as his focus moved to that section of land ahead of them. He signaled for the Guild wagon to halt its progress forward. They did so, withdrawing from the caravan to keep from impeding progress. "By whom?"

"I was not told. They will present themselves to me when the time is right." And yet again his answer had bypassed his mind's restrictions without difficulty, leaving Drisé with a feeling of detached horror.

They arrived at the Guild's wagon and dismounted. The Militia Master escorted Drisé to the rear of the massive wagon and to those steps lowered by an Inspector few years older than himself.

"As I said before," Militia Master Selk began, facing him, "no one has reported the existence of a slave ring, slave auction, nor that remotely similar. Ask what questions you deem necessary, but their answers will most likely be the same. Now, I will question those who will know either way and report to you when you have finished here."

Drisé outwardly blinked, unprepared for the voluntary offer of assistance. The Clemoun Guild always reported those of Trisbin to be about their own business. "Thank you, Master Selk. The act is appreciated."

Militia Master Selk stared down at Drisé for a moment longer before again pulling himself into the saddle and returning to the main part of the caravan. Drisé watched him go, his mind strangely silent, before turning to enter the wagon.

Four Inspectors of middle age hovered over an unfurled map, gesturing here and there as they discussed something regarding a group of men who had raided a merchant caravan. As Drisé stepped farther into the room, the Inspector who had lowered the steps came forward. He stood taller than Drisé by at least four inches, having an athletic build that was to be expected of the hard-trained Inspectors. He had, also, short-cropped hair and eyes that did not completely show detachment-a fact that intrigued Drisé.

"Welcome. I am Inspector Ellit."

"I am Inspector Drisé. Clemoun Guild."

Inspector Ellit motioned for him to come farther into the wagon. The other Inspectors had since quieted their discussion, going to hand‑sign so as not to disturb Inspector Ellit's conversation with the new arrival.

"How can I assist you?" Inspector Ellit prompted.

While calm, Drisé again noted a lack of the disciplined detachment in the Inspector's expression. He filed the knowledge away for a future question. "I have questions regarding a received report."

"The subject of said report?"

"A slave auction."

That statement accosted the other Inspectors' attention. They straightened and came to surround him. Again, their attitudes weren't specifically distant or cool, but their exhibitions of surprise and curiosity were minimal. It fed Drisé's intrigue, reminding him of his previous conversation with Kial regarding the Clemoun Guild's harsh training-

"A slave auction?" Inspector Ellit repeated. "Where is the location of the alleged auction?"

"Trisbin."

Inspector Ellit focused to a tall man with silver streaks in his hair at the temples. The man's face was thin and leathery, showing the signs of his experience in battle and life. "Terek, have you received any reports of an alleged auction within Trisbin's borders?"

"No, I have not." Inspector Terek focused his stark silver eyes on Drisé. "Have you any detailed information? Names? Locations? Dates of sales?"

Drisé shook his head. "I am to meet with a contact that is to provide said information." Drisé focused his attention back to Inspector Ellit. "I cannot believe you have heard nothing. A citizen discovered information enough to report it to us."

"True enough," Inspector Ellit said with little change in expression. He turned back to Terek. "Take Dol and return to Trisbin to begin an investigation. Perform interviews on your way. Understood?"

Terek nodded and immediately left the wagon.

"I apologize that we can be of no further help, Drisé. Although I believe the auction could not function without our knowledge, I will see that the investigation is thorough."

Drisé offered a slight bow of thanks.

"Will you be journeying to Trisbin?" Inspector Ellit asked.

"No. I must return to Clemoun to report. There is a possibility the report is being used for a dark purpose." At which Head Inspector Tul had already hinted.

"Yes," Inspector Ellit agreed. "There would be little challenge in utilizing the report to heighten the tensions between Lawgiver and Guild alike."

Drisé's mind wouldn't hold the facts and ideas presented. He attempted to shake his mind loose from its strange quiet, but it didn't respond. "Thank you for your time, Inspector Ellit." He turned to go.

"Why do you not travel with us to the Sanctur? Perhaps the Elder will answer your question regarding the slave auction with better insight than I?"

The Sanctur? Drisé's mind awoke, attaching to the possibility as it searched for the logic to justify it. He turned. "The Elder would know of a slave auction?"

Inspector Ellit nodded. "It takes little stretch of the imagination to reason. The Elder is in constant contact with a variety of citizens from different walks of life. He incurs trust. Those within are willing to listen to the citizens at all times. At least stay with the caravan until we are able to question those who travel with us. Perhaps some clue can be discovered that will reveal a new direction to the investigation?"

They were all good reasons to remain. "Yes. I believe this would be wise. Who would arrange my traveling position within the caravan?"

"Militia Master Selk."

Drisé bowed again before turning and exiting the wagon. As Drisé freed the reins of his mount from the wagon, Layk and Kial approached alongside Lord Trisbin. He had pulled himself into the saddle and met them. "We should remain with the caravan until a complete questioning of all those who travel within can be completed."

Layk and Kial exchanged glances before sending the Inspector a nod.

VI

"You needed to talk to me?"

Selk turned in the saddle as Para Sedi pulled her red roan up beside his black warhorse. "You know of our visitors from the south, I assume?"

Par's green eyes twinkled, but her tone sounded irritated. "Don't insult my intelligence."

"The Inspector was sent by the Consul to determine the existence of a slave auction."

Par blinked. "I don't think I heard you right. A what?"

"A slave auction. I take your reaction as negative knowledge?"

"A slave ring? Here?" Par laughed as she lounged back into her saddle. "Inspector Drisé doesn't know which side is up, Selk. I believe the Consul may be attempting to get rid of the poor lad. Ooh. I wonder who he put into a pisser?"

"All that aside," Selk pressed, "have you received any information regarding Inspector Drisé?"

Par shrugged. "The Guild has always been the stingy one with information."

"Par."

She reluctantly chuckled. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?"

"Is it reasonable for us to assume the Consul seeks to use this well-intentioned lad to escalate the current border skirmishes to full-scale war?"

"Then do away with the evidence using their laws and by-laws, or maybe in a handy-dandy accident?" Par shrugged again. "It's what I would do. Considering."

"Considering..." Selk pressed.

"Considering his record with the Guild." Par looked at Selk for a long moment, examining his face and expression. When she pulled her eyes away to focus on her neatly trimmed nails, her attitude remained the same: Nonchalant. "Raised by the Guild, rebels against authority if it goes against the law... He's asking for trouble. It's too bad, really. He'd have made a great addition to the Network."

"I don't intend to allow his death, Par."

Par looked up. "You expect me to know who's going to do the deed?" Selk said nothing, and she gave a snort. "Selk, I can do a lot of things, but telling the future isn't one of them."

"You have many avenues of information at your disposal. Put word out that the Inspector is traveling with us, moving on to Clemoun once our caravan reaches the Sanctur."

"Why? He'll be a sitting-"

"He's an Inspector, Par, and not an easy target. Do you forget the training they endure to be incepted?"

Par frowned. "Do you forget the training the assassins go through? They've got to defend their own life to even be considered for acceptance into the Society. Defending against one of them isn't like defending against a soldier."

"Inspectors are hardly soldiers. Not only are they trained to expect the unexpected, they must search out and battle against their own Instructor in order to pass."

"Bah! Assassins have to defend their life against seasoned killers who have no qualms with playing dirty." Par examined Selk's expression. "Does the Inspector have any idea what you're getting him into?"

Selk turned his face away.

"Why are you doing this, Selk?" He remained silent. "You heard me, Selk," Par pressed. "Why in the world are you bothering with this Clemoun rat? You know what the Guild is like there. What makes you want to save this one?"

Selk faced her, examining her expression for a silent moment before releasing her gaze to look away. "I do not know. This is one secret you must discover on your own."

"Fine." Par scoffed. "I can't say my relationship with you has ever been anything but an adventure."

Selk briefly smirked. "Do what I ask, Par. Spread the word."

"I suppose you want me to have some of my own reinforcements lurking about? You know. Merged with the crowd?"

"I hoped you would offer the suggestion."

Par scoffed. Then she gave a shake when a trailing finger of dread tickled her spine. "Take care of yourself, Selk."

He turned toward her. "That is a warning I will not take lightly."

"Good." She gestured toward his axe. "Keep it sharp."

"I always do." Then Selk turned his horse away, moving it toward the last place the Clemoun Inspector had been seen with Lord Trisbin and the pair of men in blue. He came upon Inspector Ellit instead. "Ellit."

Ellit glanced up, halting his conversation with one of Trisbin Guild's new recruits under his mentorship. "Yes, Master Selk?"

Selk dismounted. "How was your meeting with the Clemoun Inspector?"

"Interesting, to say the least."

"Any ideas as to why the Clemoun Guild would send him instead of directly inquiring of the Trisbin Guild?"

"It is too soon to make a certain assumption, but my initial reaction would be they are purposefully seeking to set one House against another."

"And the Guilds as well?"

"Yes, but only due to the fact our Guild's perception of the law has been allegedly tainted, thereby compromising our duty to that law."

Selk pressed his lips in a firm line before speaking. "Why do it in this way? If his attempted mediation had been discovered as a ruse to hide the investigation into a non-existent slave auction, his life would have been at the mercy of Lord Trisbin's ruling."

Inspector Ellit nodded as one hand went to lightly rub his scalp of reddish‑brown curls. "Yes. I realized this as well."

"In your experience, Ellit, what could he have done to make this necessary?"

Inspector Ellit met Selk's gaze. "In my experience, Master Selk, they could have viewed his placement as a necessary step due to the fact he is the least qualified to handle the situation."

"They want a war?"

"Not specifically. They may be utilizing this as an opportunity to force someone's hand."

"To have them reveal themselves?" Inspector Ellit nodded, and Selk rubbed at the stubble on his broad jaw. "To what end?"

"So the Guild will then have the upper hand."

Selk adjusted the axe's position on his back by moving his shoulders. "This is only one possibility of many?"

"Unfortunately, yes. The investigation has not yet had time enough to reveal supporting facts of our hypotheses and theories."

Selk gave a curt nod. "Do your best, Ellit, and then report to me as soon as you can."

"Of course."

Selk heard a horse approach. It was the Clemoun Inspector. "I'll speak with you more later, Ellit." Then he pulled himself into the saddle and met the young man, deliberately ignoring a rising convulsion within. "Inspector, a word?" The Inspector easily held Selk's gaze as he pulled up alongside his red roan. "What have you decided?"

"That it would be prudent to travel with your caravan toward the Sanctur until the interviews among your personnel are completed. Once I have interviewed the Elder to my satisfaction regarding this same situation, I shall continue on to Clemoun to report what I have discovered."

Scrutinizing the Inspector's detached expression, Selk decided it to be too much so. He surrendered to a press for honesty. "I have it on good authority that you are somewhat of a recluse within Clemoun. I also understand that hiding an investigation behind a claim of mediation could endanger your life."

The Inspector said nothing, although something flickered within his gray-green eyes.

"I've a notion this current assignment has a specific purpose for the Clemoun Guild," Selk continued. "Perhaps your obvious independence and loyalty to the law is what they seek to rout out? Perhaps your character is what they feel must be legally disposed of. In either case, you seem to have been manipulated to this place in order to meet a mysterious contact who is doubtlessly intended to arrange for your life to be ended in a legal fashion, likely before your report can be made."

Inspector Drisé's face remained strictly controlled. "There is no proof of what you say."

Selk conceded the point with a slight nod. "No, there is not. If there were, the Guild wouldn't be the danger it is." The young man looked away, leaving Selk to examine his profile with slowly narrowing eyes. "If you want to prove or disprove what I suspect, wait for your contact within the caravan while we travel to the Sanctur."

The Inspector made no response as Selk continued to watch the relentless detachment of his expression.

"Think on all that has happened so far, Inspector. Replay it in the clearest detail possible for you. You know that what I suspect is probable, and most likely true. You've likely become a detriment to their establishment because of your honor. I suspect you cause them more difficulty than what they're willing to dismiss, and now you're to be dealt with. A trifle harshly in my opinion, but such doesn't matter. I don't intend to allow it. You would be of great use to us, Inspector. Great use to the citizens whose need is very likely the cause of this predicament involving your life."

The Inspector changed his focus to the rippling material of the Trisbin colors and crest on a nearby troop-wagon. "Very well." Then he urged his mount forward without another word.

Selk turned his horse to continue watching the young man with an expression of calm understanding. The Guild's plot must have seemed the ultimate betrayal.

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