Noble Arcana

The corruption of Drakthiss is so complete that they don’t even consider it corruption anymore. Raiding a paper because they dared criticize the crown is simply exercising the law. Having strikers beaten? Simply good economic policy.

Dalmar the Dissident

Solomon made sure that Yarrow was taken to the physician Isaacs before heading back to his manor where he was given three more guards for protection. Solomon understood it, but was less than thrilled by the increase of attention. He was furious that the young guard had been injured, but grateful that he’d been able to stop the flames before it had gotten too severe. Doctor Isaacs had indicated that the young guard should recover with no permanent issues.

To distract himself he continued his research into the orcish and elvish languages, brushing up on what he knew and working to increase his limited vocabulary so that he could expand on what he had access to within the repository. There were two spells in particular he knew were in elvish and orcish that he was hoping to be able to decipher. Their scrolls hadn’t killed any puppets, so that meant they were a safe focus for his research.

After an uneventful night, Solomon was about to head into town the next morning when Melissa informed him that First Watchman Vantus was at the manor. He headed to meet him, finding that the mustachioed man had refused to sit while he’d been waiting.

“First Watchman, what can I do for you?” He asked as he entered the Atrium.

“I was hoping you would accompany me to the station,” replied Vantus, his voice sounding a bit strained.

“Am I under arrest?” he asked with a small smile, as if unconcerned.

“Of course not Lord, we just have some questions about the attack in the woods.”

Solomon nodded, slipping his arms into the jacket Melissa was holding for him and taking his backup walking stick that gave off no mana.

“Shall we ride in my carriage?”

“That would be fine, lord,” replied Vantus formally.

The man was clearly hiding something. He was already a very buttoned up person, but he seemed to be particularly cagey at that moment. They rode silently in the carriage, Solomon watching the streets go by as they moved, doing his best to appear nonchalant.

When they arrived at the guard station, Melissa opened the door for them and he walked ahead of Vantus toward the station, his eyes scanning around. He noticed then that none of the other guards had accompanied them. While Vantus was an excellent watchman, he wouldn’t be so cocky as to dismiss his guards unless he thought there was no longer any use for them.

Solomon realized then what was happening, but he kept moving with a neutral expression.

Inside the guard station was Inquisitor Song, along with three guards that were around a man of average height with brown hair with a dirty bandage on his neck. His hands were bound by manacles. It was the assassin that had attempted to kill him the previous day. It seemed the guard’s spear had struck true.

Solomon raised an eyebrow in confusion as he nodded to Song.

“Inquisitor Song, who is this?” he asked, pretending not to know.

“He’s the one,” said the man from his seat, his eyes glaring at Solomon. “He’s got magic of some kind. I know it.”

Solomon donned an expression of confusion and looked back at Vantus and to the Inquisitor.

“Would someone please explain to me what’s going on?” he asked.

Vantus walked around to stand next to Song.

“This is the man that has been attempting to kill you. His name is Nic Dukat. He’s wanted for the assassination of two nobles in Brevantiss and is suspected to be linked to dissident groups. He has made claims that you’ve used magic to survive the last two attempts at assassination.”

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“Magic?” asked Solomon with a frown.

“I shot him. I shot him and I know at least two shots struck true. When I threw the firebottle at him in the woods, that damned guard jumped in the way, but it was extinguished almost immediately!”

Solomon creased his eyebrows. “You know, normally I need to encounter someone of my station to meet one so conceited. To believe your failures are due to magic rather than incompetence. You missed me with your gunshots and you failed to make a proper explosive and instead made something ineffective that extinguished too quickly.”

“You bastard!” yelled the man as he attempted to launch himself toward him only to be immediately restrained by the guards to either side of him. “You leech, you fucking-”

One of the guards interrupted him with a swift punch to his gut.

“Take him back to the cell,” said Vantus with a gesture. He looked back to Solomon as the man was dragged back kicking and screaming vile oaths.

“I apologize for that, Lord Morrow,” said Vantus with a bow. “I felt that he may confess more explicitly if we brought you in. Though, I wouldn’t have done so without warning you had the Inquisitor not insisted.”

“That is accurate,” she responded simply, with no attempts to hide her part in it.

“Am I under suspicion of some kind, Inquisitor?” he asked.

“I shall speak to you privately,” she responded, gesturing to his temporary office in the corner. They walked inside, and he gestured to Melissa to remain outside as he sat at his desk. Inquisitor Song remained standing.

They remained there silently for a few moments, and Solomon again felt the pressure behind his eyes that seemed to come with every conversation he had with the inquisitor. Still, he waited for her to speak first.

“I am ending my investigation into what happened here,” she said simply. “I do believe that there was a magical component to what the former mayor had done, but I am unable to move forward any further with what I have managed to uncover.”

Solomon frowned. “That’s a shame. I had hoped we may be able to put things completely to rest.”

“I am also ending my investigation into you,” she said, her eyes and attention seeming to fully focus on him with such force that he felt a physical weight settle on his shoulders.

“Into me?” he asked curiously, maintaining steady thoughts and breathing even as he began to consider his options.

“It is clear that you are hiding something. While that murderous dissident is not a valid witness to your crimes, what he says matches a pattern that surrounds you. You are not a man of great physicality or strength, or even skill and yet you have managed to survive harsh odds out of your favor again and again. One or even two times may be a matter of luck or fate, but the number surrounding you seems to be far greater than that.”

Solomon stayed silent, he gave her nothing.

“I wish to be clear. I am not ending this investigation of my own wishes and whoever it is within the Union that is protecting you, I will find them and I will uncover whatever it is that links you.”

Solomon allowed a confused expression to show. It wasn’t difficult, he was confused. Someone above her had asked that the investigation be ended? Was it a member of the Arcana? Had Viscount Byar pulled some kind of strings for him?

“Sleep well while you can. Know that your peace is temporary,” ended Song, she placed something on the desk in front of him, turned and walked out of the office and then out of the station. He looked down to see the flattened remains of a bullet on the desk in front of him. It looked as if it had been four shots, not three.

Solomon sat there pondering for a few moments. He regretted requesting the investigation, but it also gave him a new question, a new avenue for discovery. The last Page of Pentacles had been captured and killed by the Union according to the Knight. What had protected him? Was it someone who wished to defend the nobility, or someone actually within the Arcana? He had no one to ask, but he would remember the questions.

Inquisitor Song worried him. She seemed very determined to find the truth about him. He would need to be wary of her and anyone else that she may be involved with. Whatever protections had been given to him may only be temporary. He’d need to consider ending the threat she represented pre-emptively.

He stood up and left the office before he approached Vantus, offering any more help he could give to ensure that Dukat was hanged. After that he had a brief check-in with Feist regarding the roadwork and decided to head back to the manor with the, very valid, excuse that he needed rest with all that had happened. In truth he was mostly excited to return to his studies now that the blue boot was leaving. His review of elvish and orcish meant he felt far more comfortable deciphering the spells he’d found and he was eager to return to the repository to get to work.

In the carriage ride back he considered the issue of Dukat more thoroughly. Not only would he likely keep accusing him of being a secret mage, he was also tied to well known dissidents, had a gun, and a connection of some sort to James. Solomon wished he could ask him more questions. He wanted more than answers though. The man had nearly killed Yarrow, an honest guard who had been willing to jump in front of Solomon to protect him. Yarrow was his subject, his responsibility. Even if the man had simply been doing his job as a guard, he did an exemplary job in spite of his youth. The dissident would be hanged no matter what, but perhaps there were better uses for him that would provide a bit more satisfaction.

Solomon left his carriage and headed immediately to the library, the chill he’d grown used to settling around him as he entered the hidden study.