Chapter 7
That Tifnar paid only cursory attention to Sollvar's report wasn’t unusual. His degree of impatience was, as though he had other matters to attend to. Given the importance he'd assigned the mission on dispatching Sollvar to Irnskyl, his attitude seemed odd. Still, unless told to stop or be concise Sollvar was safer reporting as usual.
'Prince Horolf seems amenable to reaching terms,' said Sollvar. Of slight build, his receding blond hair was indistinguishable in some lights, and could make him seem older than he was. 'But His Majesty, while polite, didn't seem inclined to make concessions. In the long term we may be able to lay groundwork, but in the short term I don't believe there's much room to work unless the Society's alternative source of arvinim becomes known as similar in scale to Irnskyl's.'
'Or unless something happens to King Hjarg,' said Tifnar. A frown crossed his chubby face, and his cold green eyes focussed on Sollvar. 'How did the old man appear?'
'Uncomfortable as the meeting went on. I believe pain from his leg was the cause, rather than irritation with the meeting; but only because he hid the latter.'
Tifnar considered this, and Sollvar didn't want to know what he was thinking. Tifnar wasn't alone on the Alliance council in seeing the Society's new source of arvinim as an opportunity to gain a foothold in Irnskyl, even if only favourable terms for their arvinim. Hjarg probably viewed that as the first step towards the Alliance absorbing them into its financial empire, which, while skewed, may not be entirely inaccurate.
The competition between the Alliance and the Society – or war as some senior members almost considered it – had been going on since the Alliance came into being almost a century ago.
The uneasy détente between them had never approached conflict, though. Not that he’d heard of. So they stuck to their markets, and each had grown more dominant in certain countries – although both had interests everywhere.
Dadfnir had been the Alliance’s since their founding, their office here in Idstil serving as their base of operations since the early days, while the Society’s headquarters remained in Volthus. Or was Volthus.
While Dadfnir still had a King, Volthus was ruled directly by the Society. The small island had lost its royal family at sea decades ago. Nobody accused the Society of involvement, but their assuming control of the island – which their presence had turned into an important shipping hub – had caused unrest among the monarchies. Sollvar knew some council members had dreams of finding a similar homeland for the Alliance, but he didn’t consider that likely.
While members of both guilds often operated in close proximity, the boundaries defining which types of jobs each could take had been agreed by the senior members, so conflict was rare.
The Society acquiring a new source of arvinim could unbalance that state of affairs, and the leaders of the Alliance saw Irnskyl as a potential prize from that instability.
This made Tifnar's distraction unsettling.
'The Princess also seems opposed to any kind...' Sollvar began, but Tifnar waved it off.
'Did you hear about the theft?' asked Tifnar. His attention focussed on Sollvar, who began to wish for indifference again.
'You mean the accident the Society's shipment suffered? Have we confirmed there was a theft? I'd heard...'
'Einari has been seen in Akar,' said Tifnar. Einari was the Society’s leading enforcer, sent to investigate the most serious cases. He’d hardly be there for a simple accident.
What he was after – or what the Alliance higher-ups thought he was after – was difficult to say, as was the reason Tifnar had raised this with him. He was a negotiator, not a guard.
'We're more interested in the distraction than the theft itself,' said Tifnar.
'The distraction, sir?' Sollvar had heard only the bare details of the incident.
'Yes, a large glyph drawn on a wall on the main road through the city. The vandalism was done at night and proceeded to shower sparks all over the place. While harmless, the design was unusual enough that the local glyphmasons were reluctant to tamper without understanding it.'
'I see,' said Sollvar, not seeing how this related to him.
'The glyph died out eventually, letting them examine. It seems to have been triggered remotely. A smaller glyph intersected the line of the larger, preventing the circuit closing. The smaller was tied to another somewhere else. When triggered, it completed the line of the larger glyph. Sympathetic glyph, our people call it. It was theoretical. Even I don't understand how this works, so this wasn't some backstreet glyphpunk.' Tifnar frowned, brushing his hand back through his receding red hair.
'The Society?' asked Sollvar.
'It wasn't us, so only they could conceivably develop something like this.'
'Yet it was used to distract from an action against them?'
'That’s why we think it may not have been used with authorization. It isn't the sole cause of concern. There's also the large glyph itself. It was elaborate, and must have been done with disturbing speed and accuracy. We're thinking a few glyphists working in concert would be necessary. Some of the flourishes seem to be a message.
'There are elements to the design which duplicate Society and Alliance glyphs. Things of which the highest levels of both organizations are aware, and respect as being owned by one or the other. Used in a few glyphs, the possibility of them being deciphered outside our walls is inconceivable. There's one element particular to each of us used in this glyph.'
'You're saying someone in either the Society or the Alliance, probably high up, is involved?' asked Sollvar.
'That would, unfortunately, appear to be the case.'
'Could that be the focus of Einari’s investigation?'
'If he hopes the stolen metal will lead to them,' said Tifnar. 'Possibly they have someone else investigating that. I don't imagine they'd be any more reluctant to look into this than we.'
'Sir?' Sollvar didn't like the way the conversation was heading.
'I want you to lead this investigation.'
That was what he’d been afraid of. 'Sir, don't we have actual investigators with experience?'
'Nobody I trust to be discreet. It could be that the person responsible is in fact a Society man, so we don’t want to be too aggressive in this. But we need to be certain we haven’t been compromised. I'll assign you a senior guard, but I want you running things and keeping me appraised.'
Sollvar’s thoughts took a moment to cohere into something resembling an ordered state of mind, despite the questions that popped up. The most predominant being: why me? He wasn't sure he knew where to start.
'Needless to say,' said Tifnar. 'If someone is betraying our secrets, they'll likely be expecting someone hunting them. A quiet search would be preferable.'
'The glyphs would be known by individuals lower in the organizations than just the senior members, I assume?'
'Yes,' said Tifnar. 'But they'd only know our own glyphs, not those of the Society.'
'But we don't know for sure the individual in question should know both. They could have acquired the other from someone at a similar level in the other guild.'
Tifnar considered this a moment. 'Good point. Yes, we should do a thorough search for the spy, or traitor.'
'How many people would have had access to our knowledge?'
'Quite a few. Security isn't as tight as it should be. Some of our glyphists can be a bit too free with interesting information.'
'So the information may not even have been intentionally leaked?'
Frowning, Tifnar shook this away. 'We should assume for the time being that we may have a traitor or spy. If you find nothing, we can reconsider this later.'
'If a spy, I assume we'd suspect the Society?' said Sollvar.
'Most likely.'
'Do we have spies in the Society?'
Tifnar's expression went blank. 'Would you expect me to share that with you if we did?'
'If we did they could be useful in learning the Society's view of this part
of the incident, whether they know who could be...'
'Noted,' snapped Tifnar. 'Begin the investigation.'
With little choice, and many questions still tumbling around, Sollvar took his leave. While unexpected, if this was what he was called on to do then he would. He had no clue how to go about something like this, or where to start. He'd better find somewhere.