I can’t say it was my finest moment, that encounter. But for the partial truths I told towards the end, I might have alienated the Goodwins completely. It would have made it impossible for me to keep an eye on them, and darned difficult for any of the Shriven to do the same. In the end it was Derrick more than anyone who saved it, and in the end giving it a try grew into a friendship I might dare say ended up closer than the one I’d shared with Marrick.
We met daily in the park, which was a darned sight closer to his home than mine, and more often than not Jimmy and me’d be invited home for lunch. Heather was a graceful host, and a delightful woman. Fair enough to look at without being greatly eye-catching, it wasn’t until you got to know her some that you saw where here beauty lie. It fair shone out in the live she had for her husband and her boys, and radiated from her loyalty and commitment to them both. She was wary of me at first, but for some reason she warmed to me, same as the others.
Tarbuc and Alowin were tutored in the afternoon, and both Derrick and Heather insisted that Jimmy be allowed to join them. He hated it at first. For one thing he was some years behind the other two in most of his learning, and that’s hard to take at that age when you’re not the youngest in the class. He did surprise then on occasions though. Whatever different bits of learning he’d picked up hanging around the Shriven, some of them went deeper even than the knowledge of the boys’ tutor.
Derrick, I discovered, was a writer and a historian. When we first met, he was working on a biographic of his father’s life. I wasn’t much able to help him with it, never really having much reason to concern myself with the man. I did share something of what I knew regarding the time his mother had spoken out about the conditions in Gatrean, but apart from that, I spent my afternoons sketching and waiting on Jimmy.
For his part, he eventually took to the learning, and worked hard enough to catch up with the other two. His friendship with them both held strong, but so did his loyalty to me, and he reported back on everything he heard that I might consider subversive. Tarbuc was the main source of dissentful talk, Alowin being too caught up in the intricate beauty of mathematics and his dreams of following in his grandfather’s footsteps. He was, to my mind, more than a little outspoken against the Malories, and there were times I passed on my concerns to his father.
More than a little ironic that my being sent to spy on this family afforded me the opportunity to protect them against themselves. I did report back to Eadling regular enough, but I managed to convince him how much a detriment to my mission it would be to do so directly. I wrote regular reports and left them with Horeson to take when he met with Eadling. I was truthful in them reports, but I can’t say I was particularly comprehensive. Put it down to an old man’s memory, but I found I never could recall anything any of the Goodwins said that might give Eadling and his brother cause to respond.
As for Horeson, I couldn’t have been prouder of him if he was my own boy. I heard tell his first meeting with Eadling ended with Malorie yelling so loud he disturbed half of the palace. I imagined that vein standing out in Eadling’s forehead, and it brought me no small amount of pleasure. It took little enough time for him to establish himself in my role, and not too much longer for me to satisfy the Shriven were in as good a hands as I could hope.
Jimmy and me became regular guests at the Goodwins’ home, visiting almost daily, and taking a break only when the boys took a rest from their studies. Even on rest days, we’d meet in the park, the boys playing happily enough through the morning, Derrick and me exchanging nods, and sometimes a few words. Jimmy grew to be as near a brother to Tarbuc and Alowin as each was to the other, and it became more of a chore at the end of each day to separate him from his two friends. In the end, Derrick and Heather took us to one side an suggested a solution.
They wanted to adopt Jimmy, they said, and make him a part of their family. It make life so much easier for us all, and besides, Heather had started losing sleep at the thought of the young boy passing every night in our dormitory with all them criminals locked up so close by. They tried to convince me it would make me no less welcome. In fact, Derrick told me he’d about finished his book about his father’s life, and had thought about making me the subject of his new project.
I’d grown fond of the boy over the years he’d been with us, but it wasn’t right I should stand in the way of him finding a family of his own, so I agreed. To both proposals. I wasn’t yet ready to let Jimmy all the way out of my life, and working with Derrick on the book meant I could keep close to him.
Even when the book was about done and I hadn’t so much reason to visit, I’d still walk by the park in the morning, and often enough Derrick would invite me back to the house for lunch. Jimmy still reported back anything subversive he’d heard either of his step-brothers tell him, and in retrospect I wish I’d found the words to tell him to stop. Looking back, I’m at least part convinced his sense of loyalty to me and the mission I’d given him stood in the way of his fully embracing his new family, which could well explain what happened to him in later years.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I watched from a middle distance as the boys grew up, each choosing his own path.
The Three Brothers
The Elder Brother
Tarbuc was the first to mature, as you might expect. I remember seeing him reach that age where the games he’d played when he was younger didn’t interest him no more, and he began to withdraw some.
For a fact, I knew his eyes were elsewhere. Derrick made a point of inviting me to family gatherings, explaining to anyone who cared to ask that I might as well be family for all the time I spent around the Goodwins. That was as much explanation as anyone got, since I wasn’t inclined to comment on his reason for inviting me.
Whenever I found Tarbuc, his eyes would be looking across the room at an attractive, auburn haired girl. It weren’t my place to interfere. In all my life I ain’t never been with a woman without paying for it, and that was only in my younger days. I never learned the knack for talking to a woman the way she’d want, so I figured any words I might say to the young lad wouldn’t amount to nothing. I silently wished him well and watched over several gatherings as his courage slowly grew stronger than his fear.
I could understand what he saw in her. She had a fire burning in her I ain’t often seen in a person, and it set her apart from other girls her age — made her beautiful, you might say. She seemed surprised when Tarbuc approached, as though she’d been distracted from some distant thoughts, but she seemed to respond well enough to his advances, and before too long, you rarely saw one without the other nearby.
Her name was Isobelle. Lady Isobelle Harrison to give her full title. From talking with Derrick, I discovered she was the granddaughter of Demeris Abyndon, and that gave me my first ache of guilt in a some years. I could barely talk to her at first, for thinking of how I’d stood by while her grandpa was gunned down. When it finally did happen, it was her who sought me out. If she noticed my reticence, she didn’t show it.
I found her to be intelligent and erudite, and possessed of a fierce passion for justice, which of course was her reasoning for wanting to talk to the First of the Shriven. I ain’t never been overly fond of the title; makes me feel like people are making more of me than I am. In any case, that didn’t worry me none after she asked her first question.
She wanted to know how the Malories seemed to evade justice all the time. She’d been through the records since the Shriven were formed, and there didn’t seem to be a single instance when one of the family had been arrested, something she found astounding, given she’d met a few of the Malories and couldn’t believe how, as a family, they could be so blameless.
To be fair, the thought had occurred to me, and I’d raised the issue with the Malories enough times over the years, but neither Jarreth nor Eadling had been inclined to shift in their opinion, and had instructed me that under no circumstances was a member of their family ever to be arrested by the Shriven.
I’d thought long and hard over what I might say should anyone ask me, and had concluded there wasn’t much to be said. The question had never been asked though, nor had any like it. I suspect the Malories had put out some veiled threat to silence anyone with a mind to raise awkward issues, and in the silence that had filled the ensuing years, I’d grown complacent.
Until now.
Isobelle possessed the courage of youth and the tenacity of someone who’d seen an injustice go unpunished. There wasn’t a whole lot I could tell her she’d want to hear, but that didn’t mean she didn’t ought to hear it. I had to consider the consequences though. It didn’t concern me much that she might cause inconvenience to the Malories, but I had to give a thought to what they might do by way of retaliation. Isobelle’s grandfather had died as a result of just the same sort of railing about injustice, and I didn’t want any more innocent bloodstains on my already tarnished soul.
“You deserve an answer, Miss Harrison,” I couldn’t bring myself to use a title with someone near a quarter my age, “but you’re going to have to give me time to prepare it.”
“Are you trying to hide something, Mr Jerrick?” she asked, her eyes penetrating and suspicious.
“No, Miss. You’ll have as full an account from me, as if I feel is appropriate, and I hope you’ll believe me that the only people I’m interested in protecting, should I decide to omit anything, are you and yours.”
“I’m not afraid, Mr Jerrick.”
“That is the prerogative of the young, Miss Harris. To my mind, you should be. I’d have thought you, more’n most, would’ve understood the consequences of what you’re after doing.”
She paled a little. It was maybe a low blow on my part, but I ain’t never been schooled in fighting fair.
“I’ll contact you in a few days so’s we can arrange to meet somewhere private.” I touched a finger to my brow and moved on before she could regain her composure.
For somewhere private I ended up choosing the museum again. For all that I had successfully been able to spy on Derrick and his family there, it was still about the most private place I could think of in Hytheria.
It hadn’t changed much in the years since I’d been there last. The displays in the Atrium remained more or less as I remembered them. The upper gallery was now open, displaying a series of somewhat amateurish, if decidedly disturbing, paintings from one of the Malorie clan. It worked well enough for us as there was no-one else up there, and I had a good enough view of the large room below to spot anyone carrying something like one of the listening devices I’d used. I was reasonably sure I was safe, since I was supposed to be the one doing the surveillance on the Goodwin family. This week I planned to include something in my report on their comments about the paintings. Enough to upset Eadling without sending him over the edge.
Isobelle turned up with Tarbuc in tow. It wasn’t quite what I planned, but I shrugged it off.
“You remember what your father told you when you came here after your granddad’s funeral?” I asked him. “’If you remember nothing else of what I’ve said today, hold onto this…’”
“’Always be vigilant, and never speak carelessly,” he replied. “No matter where you are or who you’re with, choose your words deliberately, and be wary about who you say them to and where you say them.’”
It was close enough.
“What I’m about to tell you, I ain’t never told a soul. I’ve been thinking about it since you approached me last week, Isobelle, and I figure you’ve a right to hear the truth, and I’d say maybe you too Tarbuc. Please remember those words though. Your father thought he was safe enough to speak in this place when he brought you here, but even he stopped himself before saying something as might be considered subversive by the Malories. Just as well too, since I was up here while the three of you was walking about down there, and thanks to a new piece of technology Eadling Malorie had lent me, I was able to hear every word.”
Tarbuc’s face went white, but he held his peace. Isobelle gave him a worried look, and was sensible enough to follow her beau’s lead.
We took our time wandering from one hideous painting to the next. From time to time, I’d look down into the atrium, but I never once saw anyone as might be trying to listen in on us. Considering this to be as good a place as any, I started with the day Jarreth Malorie had come to me in my cell, and told them pretty much every salient detail I could recall of my life in the Shriven. I took my time telling them about the events leading up to Demeris’ death, and spared myself none of the shame in speaking of how I’d let it happen; how I’d suspected Bailen, but been unable to do much about it at the time of the shooting.
The injustice had eaten at me though. That and Bailen was a serious threat to peace and order within the city. I couldn’t allow him to roam free any more than I could allow him to get away murder. I’d allowed four or five months for the tension to relax, then I’d taken to following him in my off duty hours. He drank heavily at times, and one night, as he made his way home, I dragged him into a dark alley and slit his throat.
I took what valuables he had on him, amounting to some jewellery and a small amount of cash, in order to make it look like a robbery, and left him bleeding into the filth.
The Malories had insisted on a full investigation — all the Shriven working day and night — to find out who’d done this thing. I acceded to their wishes, but since I was the one leading the investigation, I was able to misdirect my men in subtle ways. By the end of two weeks wasted effort, we’d run out of leads. Eadling was furious, but there wasn’t much he could do.
The jewellery and the knife I used, along with the blood spattered clothes I’d wore that night are still buried where I hid them, under a tree in what used to be Bailen’s back yard.
Isobelle hugged me when I’d finished recounting that piece of the story. I let her for a moment then I held her away from me.
“I don’t deserve your kindness, Miss Harrison. I stood by and let the Malorie’s murder your grandfather. I’m as culpable of his killing as the man who pulled the trigger, and the fact I ended his life shortly after don’t make it right. If it gives you some peace knowing the man who killed Demeris also died, then it should also give you some reason to hate that the man who let it all happen is now standing in front of you.
“I ain’t gonna ask for your forgiveness; I don’t rightly feel I deserve it. What I would ask is that you learn from what happened to Lileth and Demeris. The Malories are like a cancer, always growing, always spreading until they choke the life out of anything they touch. You confront them head on like Tarbuc’s grandmother, they’re gonna respond in the same way. I’ve been fighting them since pretty much the day Jarreth let me out of that cell, and in pretty much the only way I know how. You gotta fight smart — get at them in ways they can’t respond to.”
“How do you suggest, Mr Jerrick?” Tarbuc asked.
“I don’t rightly know. Your grandma tried to face them head on, and it cost her brother’s life. She stopped because they threatened her family, you know this. The only reason I’ve been able to get away with as much as I have is they need me. You’re smart kids, you’ll find your own way. Just use the brains you was gifted, and be careful.”
There weren’t nothing left to say, and I figured they had a whole lot to think on, so I took my leave and withdrew.
The Younger Brother
It was some days before I felt able to face the Goodwins again, and even then it wasn’t me who made the first move. Derrick found me hovering around the outskirts of the park one day. It had been some years since out children — his children; strange that I should think of Jimmy as mine — would play here.
“I was wondering what had happened to you,” he said from behind my shoulder.
He’d approached quietly enough, but instincts honed sharp over years meant I was rarely surprised. I stayed quiet.
“I don’t know if you heard, but Tarbuc and Isobelle have both put their names forward to run as representatives on the governing council.”
I nodded. I hadn’t heard, but it wasn’t unexpected.
“I wondered if it might have been something you said to them last week. They were certainly deep in thought when they came back.”
This time a shrug seemed the most appropriate response.
“Listen my friend,” Derrick placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I see you’re troubled. I’m not going to enquire as to why, because I know how much you value your privacy, but for what it’s worth, I’m grateful for anything you might have said or done that pointed Tarbuc and Isobelle down this path. Isobelle is a delightful young lady, but somewhat headstrong, and it was worrying me that she seemed to leading my son towards a somewhat, er, militant stance, you might say.
“Anyway, enough of this. Heather has been asking after you. She has a chicken casserole bubbling in the pot, and I was told that the only way I was likely to taste any of it was if I brought you along to share it. So what do you say? You wouldn’t want me to starve, would you?”
I couldn’t hold the smile back. It rose to the surface like a whale coming up for air — slow and unstoppable. My shoulders relaxed, easing a tension that had been there for days, and Derrick gave them a friendly pat.
Back at the Goodwin home, Heather favoured me with a bright, friendly smile.
“It’s good to see you again, Lance. Luncheon will be ready in about thirty minutes. I know Alowin and Jimmy will be pleased to see you. They’re in the front room.”
I left Derrick with his wife, and made my way through to find the two young lads sitting at a table. Alowin had an air of deep concentration about him, and was sketching feverishly on a large sheet of paper. Jimmy sat to one side, looking over his shoulder, seeming a little lost. They both looked up as I entered.
“Hey Uncle Jerrick,” Alowin called out. “I’ve been working on something. Come and see.”
Jimmy was less pleased to see me. He scowled and stepped away form the table as I approached. He’d become increasingly more distant over the years since his adoption into the Goodwin family. I’d tried to speak to him about it once or twice, but he always withdrew and refused to respond. It was more noticeable now that Tarbuc wasn’t around, and it worried me some.
Still, there weren’t much I could do afore he was ready to speak. I walked over to the table and took Jimmy’s place looking over Alowin’s shoulder.
“What you got there?” I asked him.
“It’s a design for power armour,” he replied. “I thought it might be useful, you know, if you were going into battle. At first I just wanted to make something that would protect a man against a round from a steam shot, but in order to make the armour strong enough for that, it would so heavy it would take a really strong man to move it even a little. So I motorised it. The bottom half was easy; the legs don’t really have that much of a range of movement, so I just fitted some micro-motors to the hips, knees and ankles with sensors in the suit to tell them which way to drive the motors. I’m finding the top half a little more tricky though. There’s a lot of ways the arms can move, and twisting the torso around is pretty tricky. If the motor goes too far it could snap the spine of the guy who’s wearing it. I’ll get it, but it’s just taking a bot more thinking.”
“That’s really something. This bottom part. Is it ready to go?”
“Well, it’s intended to be built as a whole unit, but I guess it wouldn’t take much to fit a power unit to it. Why?”
“Would it work for someone with weak legs?”
“I can adjust the sensitivity for that, sure.”
“I have a guy in the Shriven. Jimmy, you remember Abraham?”
Jimmy came closer. He still wore a scowl, but his eyes weren’t as distant. He nodded as I turned to look at him.
“They guys all miss you, you know? Abraham came down with polio last year. It’s left him weakened in the legs, so he’s pretty much tied to a desk. I know he’d love to see you if you have some time spare, Jimmy, and Alowin, if you could make this work so’s he could walk and run again… I can’t tell you how much that’d mean.
“You remember him don’t you, Jimmy? Abraham Eager? Big giant of a man. Big black moustache. Larger than life; always laughing at the top of his lungs. Only he don’t laugh so much now.”
“I’ll talk to my tutor tomorrow, but it would help if you could put in a word. We could have a working version in maybe three or four months.”
“That long?”
“It’s quite an intricate piece of machinery, you know? There’ll be a fair bit involved in building it, then all the safety features — the limiters and suchlike — will have to calibrated and tested thoroughly. You wouldn’t want him trying to take his first step and have his knee bend ninety degrees in the wrong direction, would you?”
“Shoot, it could do that?” I let out a low whistle. “What are the chances of it doing something like that if the mechanism got hit on the battlefield?”
“About the same as you being able to do it to your own knee. Firstly all the mechanisms — the motors, the sensors, the limiters etcetera — are all housed inside the armour, which all but impenetrable. Secondly, I’ve built in a diagnostic system, here, see? It monitors every part of the suit for normal operation, and if it notices anything wrong, it reduces power to the servos. Worst case scenario, the suit would power down.”
“Leaving him stranded in the middle of a battle.”
“The same would happen if you were in an armoured carriage. He’d still be able to get out of the armour and crawl away. And, as with an armoured carriage, he’d have to take a mortar round to the legs before there was even a chance of them powering down.”
“I’ll go talk to your tutor this afternoon. You get whatever modifications you need done to that thing so’s it’s ready for building. Alowing, I can’t tell you what it would mean to all of us to see Abraham back on his feet again.”
“Oh, he won’t just be back on his feet.” Alowin’s grin was as wide as his ears. “He’ll be able to run faster and further without getting tired, and he’ll be able to jump half as high again as any of you.”
Heather called us in for lunch just then, and I followed Alowin, who was still chatting merrily away about all the clever things he’d included in his design to make it work so well. Jimmy followed us, and when I turned to usher him forward, I caught a glimpse of a dark, dangerous cloud looming behind his eyes. I’d really have to talk to him soon about what was going through his head.
The Step Brother
I got my chance to find out what was troubling Jimmy the very next day. I’d fallen into the habit of late of calling in on Horeson early in the morning. He’d put his own mark on how he ran the Shriven, and I truly had nothing bad to say about it. The day rarely came when had a question for me, but when he did, it was usually something worth asking, and more often than not I was able to point him in a way to solve it. This wasn’t one of those days.
It was different in that, for the first time in a lot of years — pretty much since the Goodwins had taken him in — Jimmy had slept overnight at the main quarters. I arrived in time for the morning briefing to find him grinning like a cat in dairy. He was handing out coffees to everyone, and everyone had a kind word to say to him. He looked like he’d come home.
Then the briefing started. As usual, the Shriven were busier than they could easily manage, so Voorde handed out assignments in a quick fire manner, and within half an hour the place was pretty much deserted, Horeson being the last to head out, leaving myself, Jimmy and a listless Abraham Eager manning the main desk.
Jimmy looked like the whole world had been pulled out from under him. I don’t rightly know what he’d been expecting, but with near everyone gone, he looked as lost and out of place as I generally felt about this time in the day.
“Jimmy…” I started, but the black look he gave me m the caused the words to baulk in my mouth. He turned to Abraham and asked if the man wanted anything more to drink.
I’ll say this for the man: He was as much a giant in his soul as he was in his body. Whatever misery he was carrying over his whithered limbs, he swallowed it down and gave the young man a full and genuine smile. He still had his hand on his canteen, which in my mind told me he hadn’t finished with it, but he handed it over, saying that perhaps he could do with a fresh cup at that.
Jimmy dashed off, giving me a few moments alone with Abraham.
“Sucks, what happened to you,” I started. I never had been one for smalltalk.
“Yeah.” He let out an enormous sigh. “You gotta roll with the punches though.”
“Don’t give up hope,” I said. “I’ve got someone working on something I think’ll bring back that smile of yorn. I don’t want to say much yet, until I know it’ll work, but I have high hopes.”
“Why’re you telling me that much?”
“I’ve a mind that Jimmy might let the cat loose. Listen, I could use a favour.”
“Fire away.”
“Something’s bothering Jimmy. He ain’t talking to me for some reason, so’s I can’t get nothing out of him. Maybe you could try him with a question or two. You always was the best at squeezing details out the people we picked up.”
“Yeah, that’s ‘cause they was afraid I was going to beat it out of them if they didn’t give it freely. I’m guessing you’d rather I didn’t use that kind of persuasion on the boy.”
“Hell no! He came here looking for a friend, though, and that sure as hell ain’t gonna be me. You’ve got a personable side. I even seen it in you just now. Maybe a gentle question or two. If he don’t wanna talk, then we’ll have to give him his silence, but anything you can get him to give up freely, I’d like to know. I’m worried for him.”
“I’ll see what I can do. What’ll you be about in the meantime?”
“It’s about time I sent Eadling a report. Not that I have much to say; I’ve not had much contact with the family for few days. I don’t reckon I’ll be too long, so maybe ask Jimmy to wait for me. I’ll walk him back to the Goodwins when I’m done.”
Jimmy reappeared then with Eager’s coffee. “Sorry,” he explained. “The pot was nearly empty from the briefing. I had to make up a fresh one.”
“Don’t no-one have to apologise for making fresh coffee,” Abraham said, raising a smile onto his face. From the look in his eyes, a harbour crane wouldn’t been under so much strain unloading a shipment of steel.
I ducked out back and upstairs before Jimmy could favour me with any more of his dark looks.
It took me about an hour to make up some gentle fiction about the Goodwins. There was always the possibility that I was being observed, so I didn’t try to hide that I’d been apart form the family for some days. I described an argument that set us apart, and how Derrick had made a move to patch things between us. I mentioned about Tarbuc running for governing council, but that I had little enough left to report.
With it written up and sealed in an envelope, I headed down to find Abraham sitting by his self.
“Jimmy didn’t want to wait,” he offered. “Said he’d find his way back by his self, same as he’d found his way here.
“You’re right, there is something troubling the boy. He wouldn’t say, but I’ve a guess.”
“I’m listening.”
“Kids like him feel a need to belong. Try and imagine what your life would have been if you hadn’t had your folks.”
“A whole lot less traumatic,” I said with a wry grin.
“You’d think that, but for all your pop was hard on you, you knew he was there, and you knew he cared. Jimmy hasn’t had that. We gave him something like it here for a while, then you took him to the Goodwins. Today, when he came back, he was pleased as anything when everyone greeted him, but they couldn’t give him the time he wanted. I reckon he feels we abandoned him. You too, since you spent all your time with him to start, then left him in the care of the Goodwins.”
“But that don’t make sense. The Goodwins offered to look after him. They’re his family now. I figured I’d be in the way.”
“Don’t need to make sense. Just needs to feel wrong or right. Jimmy was telling me about how his… well he calls them his brothers. He was telling me how they’re drifting away now.”
“I guess so. Tarbuc’s old enough to find an interest in the ladies, and one in particular. He’s also looking to enter into politics, though I’m not sure how much that’s his idea and how much his lady friend. Alowin’s still around, but he’s always been more interested in building stuff. When Tarbuc was around, he was more sociable, but I can see how Jimmy’s sort of been pushed to the side.”
“He needs to feel he belongs, Lance, and that means he needs attention. He lives in constant fear of being abandoned, like he feels his parents abandoned him.”
“His parent died. He knows that.”
“Yeah, but that’s up here.” Eager tapped the side of his head. “It’s different from what he feels right here.” He put his hand to his chest.
“So what d’you reckon I should do?”
“Now that’s a first.” Eager smiled, perhaps his first genuine smile of the day. “The great Lance Jerrick asking one of his lowly minions for advice. You growing old Lance?”
“I ain’t never been shy to ask advice, and you know it, Abraham Eager. You got a smart head on those shoulders, and you’re seeing more’n I am right now. I ain’t so dumb as to ignore that. I may not take your advice,” I smiled and lifted an eyebrow his way, “but I’ve a mind to hear it nonetheless.”
Eagers face turned serious again, the corners of his mouth turning down. “I don’t know as I’ve got much to give. He thinks you abandoned him, and he ain’t gonna give up that notion easy. You act false with him, and he’ll see through it and draw further away. All I can suggest is you stay close and wait.”
“Fair enough. I’ll think on it, and thanks for your insight. You hang in now, hear. Life has it’s dark times, but they don’t last forever.”
Eager smiled and waved, but I could tell the spark I’d seen as we talked had dimmed. His spirit was like a banked fire. It’d last a while, but without hope, it’d wither and die.
With the Shriven overworked as they were, it didn’t seem right to ask Horeson to deliver my report as he usually did. I’d not seen Eadling Malorie in a good number of years, and the prospect of doing so now didn’t fill me with any amount of pleasure.
It was strange walking down those panelled corridors again. Comfortingly familiar, yet at the same time bringing an aching sense of foreboding. I couldn’t remember a single meeting I’d had with either Jarreth or Eadling that hadn’t left me feeling tainted, and for all the brevity I expected from this one, I couldn’t help feeling the same sensation building inside me.
A door closed ahead of me, and I rounded a corner to see a familiar figure standing just outside of Eadling’s office.
“Jimmy?” I asked, unwilling to believe what my eyes were telling me. “What are you doing here?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, and turned away from me.
“Hey, hold up a minute,” I called to his retreating back, but he didn’t listen. I watched him turn the corner at the end of the corridor and turned to Eadling’s door with its familiar knots and whorls. I raised my hand to knock, but paused when I heard voices from the other side.
“I think he’ll do nicely.” Eadling’s voice. One I’m to likely to mistake after so many years.
“I don’t understand why you need him.” This from a nasal and unpleasantly whiny voice I didn’t recognise. “I could just go round there and, you know, pam, pam, pam!”
“Not all problems can be solved with a gun, son.” Francis Malorie’s Gravelly voice, which meant the annoying one must be…
“I suppose you’d do it with your knife then,” Francis Junior responded petulantly.
A wearisome sigh. “No son, I mean you don’t get to kill everyone who gets in your way. Partly, because soon enough there wouldn’t be anyone left. Mainly, though, because it wouldn’t be long before people in general decided they’d had enough of you and decided to end your life.”
“I don’t care about that. I’d just, pam, pam, pam!”
“How many shots do you have in those fancy peashooters of yours? Six? There’s likely to be a seventh man, and an eighth. If they’re angry enough with you, they’ll take the risk of losing some of their number in order to protect all of themselves. And the more you kill when they come after you, the more they’re likely to make you regret it when they end you. You don’t let cattle see the slaughterhouse, do you?
“Pick your fights, son. There’s a time for using your guns, and a time for keeping them holstered. You need to work on learning when not to draw.”
I’d never heard Francis Senior talk so much, but then it seemed like his kid needed a fair bit of talking to.
“So what’s he going to do that makes him worthwhile?”
“He is going to give me relevant information about the Goodwins,” Eadling said. “God knows I’ve had nothing of use from that waste of space, Jerrick, in all the years he’s been spying on them. If he were here now, I might just be inclined to let you have a little target practice.”
If I’d been thinking straight, that might have been a sensible time to withdraw, but pretty much everyone in that room had incensed me beyond my capacity to endure, and I ain’t never been one to back down from a fight. I let my fist fall on the door three times.
A brief, I might say shocked, pause from the inside was followed by a cautious invitation to come in. I loosened my revolver in it holster, and eased my coat back out the way before turning the handle — with my left hand, mind — and opening the door.
A foppish young man sporting a goatee and pretentious short pony tail spun my way, bringing to flashy, silver revolvers to bear. My own gun was in my hand, cocked and with the barrel resting against his forehead before he got halfway there.
“I’m not sure you want to be doing that, do you son?” I asked, calmly.
Francis senior was on his feet, a vicious looking blade in either hand, but he held back, watching me warily. Eadling stayed seated. He was tense, but he managed to look calm enough.
“I’ll tell you what,” I continued. “I didn’t come here looking for a fight, and I don’t particularly want one now, so if the young man makes his guns safe and puts them on the desk, and if you, Mr Malorie, will put your knives back where they come from, I’ll put my own gun away. You know me, and I’ve not intention of pulling this trigger unless I have cause.”
“I’d say it’s for the best, Francis.” Eadling directed the words to his younger brother, and the knives disappeared, almost to fast to see where they went.
“Francis Junior,” Francis rumbled. “Remember what I said about picking your fights. This ain’t one of them.”
The younger man was already responding though. He’d been caught between being frozen in terror, and wanting to cower away. I ain’t never had much time for cowardly folk, and couldn’t quite keep the sneer from my face as the kid slowly uncocked his weapons, slid the safeties on and placed them on his uncle’s desk.
Once he’d taken a step away, I pointed my own pistol to one side, uncocked it and placed it back in its holster. The safety was still off, but then I didn’t much mind that they knew that.
“How much did you hear?” Eadling Malorie asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I only stopped by to drop off my report.” I reached into my inner coat pocket — slowly so’s not raise the tension too much higher — and drew out the envelope. Tossing it on the desk, I continued. “My apologies for the lack of information these past days; Derrick and I had a small misunderstanding, but it’s all patched up now. Did I see young Jimmy Goodwin in the corridor just now?”
“Who’s that?” Eadling asked, while the other two seemed suddenly unable to look at me. For such a dishonest family, they weren’t much good at hiding the truth.
“He’s the boy who’s been helping me to spy on the Goodwins. They adopted him some years back.”
“I’m not sure I’d know him,” Eadling said.
I managed a shrug. “I’d best be going,” I said. “I wouldn’t want word to get back to the Goodwins that I’ve been passing time of day with you; they might take it wrong, and I’ve already had to patch up one misunderstanding.”
I nodded my head at Eadling and turned to leave. With the door closed, I found my self sore tempted to stay and listen, but they’d be wary now after the manner of my arrival. I walked straight down the corridor, and just as well I did. I heard a door opening and closing quietly behind me, and when I looked back there weren’t no-one there.