Nights of Villjamur - Mark Charan Newton [38]
Brynd had anticipated such a move.
“Commander, we’re now charging you to escort Lady Rika back from the Southfjords immediately. It should take you several days, and on your return there shall be a festival combining both mourning and celebration. It is essential that we look upon this as a positive move and not a crisis. As a senior member of this Council, I’ll advise the new Empress at every stage. We will be happy to welcome her as the new ruler.”
I bet you will, Brynd thought. You’ll use the poor girl’s innocence and ignorance to drive through every selfish policy you’ve ever dreamed of.
“Commander,” Urtica continued, “we’ve set things in motion for your imminent departure, with a longship moored at the port of Gish ready for you to join it. Take as many of the Night Guard as you feel necessary.”
“Yes, thank you,” Brynd said. “Talking of the Night Guard, I take it you’ve heard what happened to us at Dalúk Point?”
“Yes, indeed. One of your men—a certain Captain Apium Hol, I believe—made it his business to inform all of the customers in several bars last night, as well as the entire main dining hall in Balmacara. I was myself told about it by a member of the kitchen staff. A most upsetting way to learn such news, for a man of my—”
“My point,” Brynd interrupted, “was to discover how we came to be ambushed. Our mission was supposedly known only to high-level members of this Council.” Brynd was staring directly at Chancellor Urtica. The man shifted slightly, but kept an expression of concern.
“This is indeed a tragedy, but such things do happen in military operations, commander. If there was a way—”
“I’m just trying to find out why my men died unnecessarily, chancellor.”
“We will set up an investigation into this matter for you, but meanwhile your assignment is to escort back Jamur Rika.”
“What if she doesn’t want to return?” Brynd said. “It’s no enigma she despised the Emperor for his treatment of her late mother.”
“The Emperor is no longer with us, and it is your job to persuade her. We here need her. Villjamur needs her.”
Brynd did not quite understand the urgency—it was the Council that dictated Imperial strategy, and Johynn had only really ever been required for his signature. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning then,” he agreed.
At that point, Councilor Boll interrupted, a slender, short man who would have looked like a child except for his withered skin and gray hair.
“Commander, there have also been a number of sightings recently,” he began, “of phenomena we are not entirely certain of. We’re getting reports of a series of murders on Tineag’l,” Boll explained. “And people disappearing in large numbers. Admittedly these are only word of mouth from impressionable locals, and we’ve yet to hear anything from more reputable sources.”
“You wish me to investigate? Report back on what I see?” This wasn’t exactly the sort of mission Brynd was used to.
“More or less,” Urtica concurred. “Nothing to concern yourself with particularly at this moment—at least not until you return. But you can understand our concern that something may be on the loose out there, picking at what’s left of our Empire. Killing valuable subordinates.”
“What’s left of them if the ice doesn’t get them first,” Brynd said sharply.
“Indeed,” Urtica said, then turned to Eir. “Jamur Eir, in this most unfortunate time for you, I ask that in the interim you take stewardship of the city on your sister’s behalf.”
“Of course, Chancellor Urtica,” Eir replied flatly. “I shall do everything