Chapter 39
The old man was bemused, offering no resistance as Hadlaug guided him. He seemed as unaware of his reason for being here as Hadlaug. At least escorting the old man gave him a reason to follow the investigators to Volthus.
Joining the Alliance guards had been easy. Easier than getting close to the paranoid idiots he wanted to watch. They saw spies at every turn, so someone new was suspect. Not without justification, admittedly. Still, it was a problem.
The idiot supervising things, Tifnar, proved easier, treating guards as his personal servants. It grated on Hadlaug’s nerves but offered the opening he needed, so he’d avoided gutting him.
He'd been nowhere near close enough to their inner circles when they'd left for Volthus, and had been on the verge of abandoning the role when an urgent command had come from Tifnar to arrest the clockmaker – on vague charges – and escort him to Volthus. Hadlaug ensured he was in on the arrest, and that he accompanied Captain Hisgil in escorting the prisoner.
The Alliance building in Volthus was large and airy, all fancy marble and wide corridors, with a good view overlooking the arena. Hisgil gave the arena the occasional glance as he strode ahead of them, towards where Tifnar directed subordinates with his usual calm politeness.
'Find out what happened,' Tifnar growled in a high voice. 'Glyphs don't just stop working.'
When the glyphs of his sword had sparked, Hadlaug had feared he'd been discovered and that they were coming for him. But everyone had been touched by a panicked confusion. Apart from the clockmaker, who seemed fascinated and wanted to study them. Hadlaug had clipped him about the ear to discourage his interest.
Was it geographically limited? And was it permanent? Much of his payment from Thjorn had been in the form of glyphed equipment, and he didn't want to think it'd all become worthless.
Tifnar watched them approach, a question in his gaze until he recognised Hisgil. His gaze fixed on their prisoner. 'The traitor.' His gaze didn't seem particularly hostile, if this was the traitor they’d been hunting with such fervour. Was he a different traitor?
'Traitor?' the clockmaker said in a mild tone. 'You seem to have mistaken me for...'
'We'll see,' said Tifnar. He turned away. 'Bring him.' Waving away his attendants – who were glad of the reprieve – he set a quick pace.
They followed, the old man needing the occasional prompt to keep up.
They moved through a quieter section of the building, with hardly anyone else about. Hadlaug resisted a double-take at the last guard they passed. Was that Skelldyn? Did that mean Thjorn was here? Not much he could do about it.
Thinking about it, he was sure the build had looked wrong. The armour wouldn't make that much difference, would it? Although it was bulky. And not the most comfortable he'd worn.
Tifnar led them to a pair of ostentatious doors. The guards opened them at his approach.
The investigators pored over notes arrayed across the table in the middle of the room. It looked like a small library, with a few rows of bookcases down the far end. The spines were too uniform to be a proper library. Not that he cared. Pictures of glyphs – which must be what passed for art in this place – decorated the walls.
'You can leave that,' said Tifnar. 'We've caught the traitor.'
Hisgil grabbed one of the chairs and brought it around for the clockmaker. Hadlaug pushed him into it.
'I'm really not a traitor,' said the old man, with a mixture of exasperation and boredom.
Sollvar and Irnskar exchanged a glance.
'This it Timaron,' said Tifnar. 'An Alliance member found to be in contact not just with the Society, but also with glyphpunks. Do you deny it?'
'Not at all,' said Timaron. 'I have friends in both camps. I'm hardly in a position to know any of your deep, dark secrets, but if you contact Istlinn, she can...'
'Enough,' said Tifnar. 'I'm not bothering the chairman on your say so.' He turned to Sollvar. 'He's confessed. The investigation is over, and you can return to your duties.'
'Contact isn't proof of treason,' said Sollvar, cautious but apparently ready for Tifnar's wrath.
'It's proof enough,' said Tifnar, exercising surprising restraint.
'Did he have access to the restricted glyphs?' asked Sollvar.
'It's possible.'
'But...'
'It's done,' snapped Tifnar. 'See to his incarceration and return to your duties.'
'No,' said Sollvar. 'I won't falsely accuse someone just to hide your indiscretions.'
The temperature in the room dipped, and Hadlaug resisted the impulse to laugh. This was getting entertaining.
Tifnar froze. Slowly he turned to face Sollvar. 'What did you say?'
'I know you worked in Vorek, near the mines,' said Sollvar, gaining Hadlaug's undivided attention. 'You oversaw the experimental farms, and had a survey carried out on abandoned mines, to gauge the profitability of reopening them.'
'The report showed they weren’t worth our time,' said Tifnar.
'The report has discrepancies, as though it had been changed.'
'That isn't proof.'
'It's probably enough to look into your finances,' said Sollvar.
Their gazes locked.
'Are you accusing me of something?' Tifnar asked with exaggerated care.
'I'm not sure it's against the Alliance bylaws, but it'd be frowned upon, and could damage you were it brought to light.'
'That sounds an awful lot like blackmail.'
'I simply wish to see justice done, and I won't allow using an innocent man as a scapegoat to cover your indiscretions.'
'You won't allow!' said Tifnar.
'Does the possibility of a traitor out there not bother you?'
'Keep looking, by all means, but he's already admitted his treason.'
'It's hardly treason...'
'Enough,' snapped Tifnar, his anger returning. 'Justice, indeed. You think that matters? If you'd investigated what I set you to, you'd have found him yourself. In fact, that may be proof you’re a the traitor. Guards, arrest him.'
Hadlaug looked to Hisgil, who watched Irnskar warily.
Tifnar glanced back in irritation, following their gazes. 'And whose side will you take?'
Irnskar shrugged. 'I am a mercenary.'
Tifnar smiled. 'Fine, I'll pay triple your regular fee for arresting Sollvar.'
Standing straight, Irnskar started towards Sollvar. He stopped, turning to Tifnar. 'One thing first. Was it you who set the mercenaries on us?'
Tifnar said nothing.
'I thought so. I'm afraid that changes things.' Irnskar strolled towards the side of the table between them, hand on the hilt of his sword.
Tifnar retreated a step, waving Hisgil and Hadlaug over to guard him. Hisgil hesitated, but Hadlaug moved immediately. He'd heard enough to be sure Tifnar was the one he wanted.
Drawing his sword as he approached, Tifnar was watching Irnskar when Hadlaug ran him through. He jerked a moment, before collapsing onto the sword.
It was over far too quick, leaving him somehow disappointed. He let the body fall from his sword, and turned the blade to warn the others away. 'Don't act rashly. My brother was killed when they closed the mine. I've no problem with any of you, and I doubt you're too bothered by his death. So keep your swords sheathed and I'll be on my way without any trouble.'
None of them seemed inclined to react, and Irnskar openly removed his hand from his hilt.
'Oh, I doubt your brother's dead,' said the old man. Sighing as he rose, he ambled over to investigate the table's contents.
The interruption caught Hadlaug off guard. 'What d’you mean, old man?' He was less than pleased at the intrusion on his moment of satisfaction.
'I'd imagine Thjorn simply arranged things to send his pet attack dog – that would be you – after this imbecile,' he waved vaguely at Tifnar. 'He probably made just enough noise to scare this idiot into shutting the operation down. Tell me, was your brother already working at the mine when Thjorn
first hired you?'
'What?' asked Hadlaug, advancing on the old man. He wouldn't put it past Thjorn. And if he'd arranged it, paying his brother to disappear for a while – which he wouldn't put past Gudrolf – would be how he'd do it. The sons of bastards. Maybe Gudrolf didn't know what it was about, but he'd nearly started feeling bad about his loss. If he believed the old man. 'Who are you, how do you know Thjorn, and what do you...'
'Thjorn armed you and sent you out as a distraction. And I'm the old man you shouldn't have hit.'
Hadlaug barely registered the old man’s movement before feeling a jolt to his chest. Then he didn't feel anything.