Rogues Gallery (15 page)

Muldor grinned. “Your observations remain pertinent. Yes, I am both amused and disconcerted. I have an idea to fix the latter. Come, Styles, I have a job for you and a mission for the both of us.”

They mounted up, Styles going behind one of Muldor’s brawny guardsmen and headed to city hall. Both men he wished to speak with should’ve been there, Lord Governor Cassius and Lieutenant Dillon. It was busy, with many scribes and aides scrambling about the hallways and up the stairs of the stone building.

Muldor saw Lord Damour fussing about near a new wing, one rebuilt by Muldor after the cannon fire from Janisberg’s navy. The king’s cousin shouted and pointed at a large room, whose doorway was being refitted.

“This room is too small, I say! I was told it would be bigger. Why can’t you make it bigger? It’s half the size of Cassius’!”

The poor architect had little to say. He was a small man with dark skin, someone from the southern climes. “This is what you have assigned, my lord. Nothing can be done.”

Lord Damour was not accustomed to being denied. He stomped his feet, and his thick jawed face got red. “But this is unacceptable! You-you will talk to Cass-to the Lord Governor for me and get me a different office. This is the new wing. There should be a better one around.”

“This is the best one we have.” He shook his head and began walking away.

Damour stared. “What? You can’t walk away from me! I’m the City Planner, the Master of City Affairs! Do you know that? I have responsibilities. My job is important! I must be able to work.”

Muldor walked on while the man fumed, wondering how anyone got any work done at all with him there. Styles walked behind him, glancing around at the large hallways and rooms, almost in a haze.

“You built all this, didn’t you, Muldor?”

Muldor allowed himself a soft chuckle. “No, not with my hands. I hired men with the proper skills and tools to build and let them do their job.”

“Still, it wouldn’t have gotten done without you. I remember the hole in the side of the building from that, uh, battle thing, the ships. It was all broke. You did this.”

Muldor wasn’t sure how to feel about the praise, but it was only hero worship from a young man that didn’t know any better. They reached the outside of Lord Governor Cassius’ office, and when they stood there, many of the courtiers and aides stared and whispered to each other. Then they ignored them.

Muldor approached the desk and asked to see Cassius.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Not for today, but as I am a member of the city council, I do not need one in special circumstances, and this is such a case. Place me in the front of the queue and tell Lord Cassius I am here to discuss an urgent matter.”

The aide tried to argue, but Muldor would not have it. He stood there until the aide had another aide enter Cassius’ office. Muldor told Styles to run off and find Lieutenant Dillon. The young runner returned a few minutes later.

“Someone told me he isn’t here. I’ll go to the jail.”

By the time he returned, he had Dillon with him, and Muldor smiled to himself at the young man’s speed and resourcefulness. Dillon looked wary but expectant.

“Is this about the new jail? I need money, Muldor. You promised me.”

“We are being shown in to see Lord Cassius this moment,” Muldor said, putting a single hand up. “Be patient. I have a solution that may aid us all.”

Dillon shut his mouth and held back a retort, but he didn’t look happy. Once inside, Cassius was sitting back and looking rather surprised at the men coming into his office. The politician put on his best smile and motioned to the chairs in front of his desk.

“Please, be seated. What a nice surprise to have a visit from fellow council members. Are we having an emergency meeting about something? How marvelous. I trust it is important.”

“It is,” Muldor said and stayed standing. Dillon started to sit, but when he saw Muldor and Styles the way they were, he stopped and stood with his arms crossed. Cassius smirked and looked amused.

“We have two overlapping issues between our three offices,” Muldor said. “One, the building of the new road that will allow trade speed and profit to increase and two, the building of a new jail that will allow room for more criminals, the vast majority of which are thieves. The primary problem to each of these situations is money. As much of the city and Guild’s budgets are tied up with the completion of the Sea Haven Navy, I have a solution to both.”

Cassius looked interested and opened his hands. “By all means, pray continue Guild Master.”

“We grant the thieves an amnesty, with the condition they work on construction of both the road and jail, pro bono.”

Dillon looked confused, as if all he heard was amnesty for criminals he and his had worked hard to put behind bars. His eyes narrowed. “You wanna let ‘em go? Are you crazy? We busted our ass to catch them! They stole from the market, most of ‘em.”

Cassius made a quieting noise with his lips and waved a hand at Dillon “Hold a moment, Lieutenant. I wish to hear more. What guarantee do we have they will work? I wouldn’t think thieves are the most trustworthy people in the world. They would try to escape.”

“There are no guarantees. But I’m certain the police would be capable of keeping watch while they build and can best utilize this increase in manpower. Keep them chained and under guard, with furloughs and commuted sentences granted for good behavior. You caught them once, you can do so again.”

Dillon shook his head. “You promised me money for the jail. This sounds like a lot more work for us, with no resolution.”

Cassius had less patience dealing with people that didn’t see the big picture than Muldor had. “My boy, don’t you see, this is a possible resolution? Part of the money for building anything is the labor, and here you are getting it for free. You won’t pay the thieves. You will make them work for free. They get their freedom, you get your jail. Everyone is satisfied. Brilliant idea, Master Muldor. I think work on the road can commence as well very soon.”

Dillon still didn’t like it. They argued for a time longer. The police lieutenant acted as if it were an affront to his way of life and debated that the police had worked so hard for nothing. Muldor thought him to be obstinate and short-sighted. A typical cop. It was a good point that it would take extra man power they didn’t have to watch the thieves on the labor lines, but nothing in life was free.

The Guild Master left the two of them to work out the details. There was another meeting planned with Carl Tomlinson, unannounced but important. Things were bad at the market. Thievery had tripled in the last month, and Muldor wanted to reassure the Guild liaison that something was being done.

As they neared the marketplace, his group was approached by two mounted men with hoods covering their faces. Muldor narrowed his eyes but then recognized their mannerisms. His guards tensed, and young Styles trotted forward as the men barred their way.

“Hey! This is the Guild Master. Get out of our way.”

“Easy, Styles,” Muldor said. “These are no assassins, though their dress leads me to believe they desire to deceive. These are the Senior Dock Masters, come no doubt to join in our mission to uphold The Guild’s high moral code. Gentlemen, how fare you this fine day?”

Muldor felt their grimaces before Becket and Lawson pulled their hoods back. He was surprised to see Dock Master Crocker with them. The old man kept his hood down, but his slouch was unmistakable.

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of, Guild Master,” Becket said, an edge to his voice sounded both guarded and respectful. “It’s time we all spoke.”

Muldor raised a brow. “Is it? Do tell.”

“We have some bad news about Lurenz,” Lawson said.

“Yes? Is this about the prisoner you have tied up at the Southern Docks? I must say that a storage shed makes for a poor prison, gentlemen. I would have expected you to think of something more suitable. I know the jail is fit to bursting, but I would have at least gone to Lieutenant Dillon and asked.”

“Hey!” Lawson said. “How did you know that?”

“That’s enough, Lawson,” Becket said and looked at Muldor. “No more games, Muldor. We need to talk. This is important. We have earned your respect, now we demand your attention.”

“Fine. You have it.”

They sat there, as if they had expected him to say more, but Muldor sat still and waited. At last, Becket sighed and made a motioning signal with his hand. “Perhaps to your office, Master Muldor. Please.”

Muldor gave a slight nod. “As you will.”

They went back to his original office by the Western Docks. He had tried staying at the city office that The Guild sometimes used for day to day activities. He knew Crocker went there from time to time, but it never felt right. He motioned for them to sit and had to pull up a few more chairs. Lawson refused his, standing far away from the desk by a bookshelf.

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

Muldor hid a smile. “As you wish. So, gentlemen,” Muldor said as they took their places. “What is it you wish to discuss? Forgive me for not calling a meeting sooner. I suppose it is past time we had one.”

The sunlight slanted into his northern side window, the one facing the main street that went west towards the docks. The mighty warehouses, where Becket and Crocker stored their client’s good were not far off. The light was crocked because of the seasonal change in the position of the sun. Whenever it crept over the edge, it always signaled to Muldor the seasons were changing.

Lawson glanced around the room, staring at everything like a bloodhound intent on a hunt. He poked into the book shelf and ran his hand along the edge. His fingers came away dusty.

“Nice digs. You’re really moving up in the world, Muldor. I can see why you get paid the heavy coin.”

He chuckled, but no one else was laughing. Muldor eyed Becket, who seemed to be the leader in this progressiveness. “I suppose you’ll be getting to the thrust of your visit at some point.”

“Indeed we will,” Becket said and sounded more formal. “Guild Master Muldor, it has come to our attention through the interrogation of a prisoner, that the pirate Lurenz has a blood feud against us. Have you had contact with your agent among his crew?”

“No. I am working under the assumption that he is dead. I must also assume his demise came about because his deception was discovered, and this must have in turn incensed Lurenz further against us.”

Lawson cursed. “Yeah, I bet that pissed him off.”

Crocker stepped forward. “And what do you intend to do about it,
Guild Master
? Hmm? It is your responsibility to protect the merchant’s interests, and you have been doing a poor job of it of late. This is unacceptable.”

Muldor stared at him, saying nothing. Becket heaved a sigh and rubbed his clean shaven face. He looked older than his forty-two. Muldor had heard of the recent experience he’d had at his neighborhood. Various groups of men had gone around, breaking into several homes, including the Dock Master’s, and Muldor knew he was shaken by the experience.

“Hold on, Crocker,” Becket said. “There’s no need to toss around accusations. This affects all of us. Let’s take a minute here and consider our options and be constructive, shall we?”

Crocker made a face but stayed silent. Muldor gave Becket a slight nod.

“Lurenz is threatening the entire continent with his actions,” Becket said. “This can’t be denied. That being said, this by definition involves the king, so our first choice should be to apply for royal aid. They must respond.”

“Yet,” Muldor said because he had considered this course of action before and made inquiries, “by all accounts only merchant vessels affiliated with our Guild have been attacked. I have heard of no other ships being molested.”

“So what?” Lawson said. “We don’t count as the king’s subjects? They don’t care about us? That’s bullshit. The king oughta send out his fleet to track down Lurenz and obliterate the bastard.”

Crocker interrupted with a harsh laugh. “Ah, the folly of youth. How you leave no doubt to your ignorance with speaking, Master Lawson. Oh, yes, the king will come to your rescue, young man. Just like that! He does it all the time, spending his gold, endangering his men and ships on a matter that means nothing to him.”

Lawson stared daggers at him while Crocker continued. “Listen to me, all of you, we are wasting our time postulating what the king may or not do. It is time for the Guild to make a stand on its own, one way or another.”

There was a ripple of general agreement among them. Muldor regarded the wizened old man with mild surprise, given their last private discussion about how no aggressive action should be taken by The Guild. Such things led to trouble, per example Castellan’s attempted city coup.

“There may come a time when we illicit assistance from the king,” Muldor said. “But I do not believe we have reached that point as of yet, nor should we ever be forced to rely on outside aide. We are self-sufficient for the most, and this city prides itself on being an entity in and of itself.” He regarded them all in turn, and they were rapt with attention. “No, I feel Master Crocker is correct, it is up to us to help ourselves.”

“What do you suggest?” Becket said.

Muldor eyed each of them in turn. “We have the necessary resources here in our own city to deal with these raiders once and for all. Sea Haven’s navy is now formidable. The Guild has access to a force that will tip the scales in our favor from now on.”