Read The Guild of the Cowry Catchers, Book 1: Embers Page 7
Chapter 6. Mystique
The relationship between the Temple Sea Watch and the Temple Police is ambiguous. Traditionally, the leader of Police is ranked as captain, so that the admiral of the Sea Watch (and his lieutenants, for that matter) outrank him. This reflects the importance of the sea in the politics of Wefrivain. However, the Police are the administrators of the Priestess’s will on land, and they receive their orders directly from her.
—Gwain, The Truth About Wyverns
Gerard left the Temple complex feeling bleak and vaguely dirty. He’d spent the day questioning and executing shelts whose courage he could not help but admire. More than any shelt I’ve met in the Sea Watch or Police.
He was grateful when Alsair swooped into the street in front of him. “I need to ride,” he said, without so much as a greeting.
“Where?” asked Alsair.
“Anywhere.” Soon they were climbing, climbing—up over the dome of the Temple, over the streets and markets of Dragon’s Eye. Lecklock was the smallest of the Great Islands, and Alsair climbed rapidly to a point where they could see half the island.
There in the harbor stood the three tall ships of the Sea Watch—the Fang, the Dark Wind, and the Sea Feather. The Fang was Silveo’s flagship and the place where he lived, even when he was not on assignment. Gerard had heard that when Silveo took over the Sea Watch eight years ago, he’d wanted to gild the entire ship silver. Vain fool. Gerard could not think of a more unfortunate color for a ship chasing a prize. Apparently, even Silveo’s supporters thought so, and he’d been persuaded to paint the ship scarlet and gold instead.
Gerard had to admit that no amount of gaudy paint could hide the beauty of the vessel—an elegant three-masted ship with four decks and a bronze wyvern figurehead, gleaming with gold leaf. Like many ships in Wefrivain, she had a slave deck with rowers.
She had been Gerard’s home on and off for the last year. However, he’d learned today from Marlo Snale that he had a house in town—the traditional residence of the captain of Police. Marlo had been careful to add that the last three captains had chosen to purchase their own lodgings, and the house had not seen use in some years. Gerard knew the last three captains had been younger sons of wealthy families. He suspected the house was a humble affair, but it would get Thessalyn out of the inns, where she was continually badgered for performances. It would give Alsair a safe place to sleep. Silveo had a low tolerance for griffins aboard ship. The nest box where he’d put Alsair doubled as a storage room and was so crammed with boxes that Gerard feared a crate might fall on Alsair during rough weather. The house would also mean that Gerard would never again be a permanent resident of Silveo’s flagship, a prospect that lightened his spirits considerably. He told Alsair all this as they flew, as well as the story of the traitorous smuggler and the frightened gazumelle youngster.
Alsair listened with uncharacteristic silence. When Gerard finished, he laughed. “So that’s what really happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you’ll never believe what they’re saying about you in the streets. The local griffins are all gossiping about it, and half of them heard it from their masters.”
Gerard could feel his tufted ears prickling. “Heard what?”
Alsair imitated a fluting girl’s voice. “That new Captain of Police is a terror! They say he took a pirate ship single-handedly and—”
“Single-handedly?” interrupted Gerard. “I had six capable—”
“He hacked the pirate captain to pieces and took his tail as a trophy.”
“Took his—?”
“It gets better. Last night you killed half the prisoners in a rage as soon as the Priestess put them into your custody. The cell was blood from floor to ceiling.”
“That sounds like a Silveo rumor,” growled Gerard. The accusation that he’d killed the prisoners because he’d lost his temper, not as a calculated move, irked him.
Alsair was choking on giggles. “Then you cooked them up and fed them to their hungry comrades as bribes the next morning.”
“What?!”
“You so enjoy your new job that you wouldn’t even let the other Police help you question and kill them. Prisoners went into your office alive, and one by one the bodies came out. You had their tails made into a wreath and mounted the heads on your wall.”
Gerard was momentarily speechless.
“They say you’re a prince with a dark and tragic past.”
“Well, that, at least, is true—”
“They say you committed some terrible crime, for which you can never go home. The ladies are all cooing about you—tall, dark, and oh so dangerous.”
Gerard could not understand how any lady could both believe these stories and find him attractive. “Are they all mad?”
Alsair shrugged. “I think it’s the mystique of the Police combined with your own that’s prompting the rumors.”
“I don’t have a mystique,” said Gerard. “I’m very non-mysterious.”
“Oh, but you do, master of mine. You don’t know it, but you do. It makes shelts either love or hate you.”
Gerard couldn’t argue that. His fellow sailors had liked him well enough to elect him their watch master. They were the only thing he would miss about the Fang. “I suppose the gossips can think whatever they like as long as they respect me. A little fear won’t hurt.” He sighed. The sun was setting, he was tired, and he had one more chore this evening.
“I want to get something to eat, and then we need to pay a visit to the Sea Feather.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to talk to Lieutenant Arundel. He was the Captain of Police four years ago. As far as I can tell, he’s the only one in the last ten years who’s left the Police alive.”