The Rivven Chronicles ( Watty Awards 2013)

Chapter 2: Lord Ronald Commer's Fall from Grace

“Now, one more time, what was the evidence you had to support your arrest?” The High Commander asked, dipping his quill to once again start scribbling in his large legal tablet. It was thick with handmade paper and, of course, scribbling. The Knight Commander sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb.

“Well, Allus, what was the evidence the first five times you asked?” He shot her a look, the one that said he didn’t understand anything that wasn’t spoken in complete seriousness.

“He had several…” She hesitated. “Rarities…in his library and… and several Malconstructs.”

Allus Lumin stopped scribbling and fixed her with his brown eyes. Dull now, they had once been warm, mirthful even, deep set in a rugged face. A handsome face, she had once thought, but fifteen or so years had passed since and time and stress had left him grim and lined. An affliction she did not suffer from.

“By several Malconstructs,” he began, slowly. “What number do you mean exactly?”

“Perhaps a score.” He blanched slightly at the number. “Maybe even half as many more.” She added. “Some were already rendered deconstructed when we arrived.”

“Did they turn on each other?” The High Commander asked, perplexed. It was rare for Constructs to act against each other if erected by the same master, since it was rare for them to be imbued with the kind of decision making spells that would allow such a thing.

“It’s possible,” She shrugged, shifting in her chair. “But I doubt it.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, which were rested on his desk, and laid his forehead in his left palm.

“Who else was there?”

“The usual. Hollis, Terym, and the rest of section seven.”

After several moments in thought Allus said, “I’m placing an order of silence on all of you in regards to this, these are serious charges and until we can further search the Commer’s Manor the last thing we need are rumors spread throughout the city. I grant you alone permission to speak of the details on the matter, but only to me, and my betters. Do you have any questions, Trilan?”

She thought a moment. “Will you be setting him free until trial? Or keeping him?”

He reclined somewhat in his seat before telling her Ronald Commer would be staying in the dungeons.

“Good.” Trilan said, standing to leave. “I would like to head the investigation on the manor, if you would let me.”

“No,” said the High Commander, as he began to stand as well, with noticeably more effort than Trilan had. Well, maybe others would not notice so quickly, but she had. It pained her slightly, and she brushed it away to protest his decision.

“But I-“

“No,” he repeated firmly, but now with a smile and a white envelope extended toward her. The king’s waxy signet obvious on the front. “I have other things intended for you.”

“Allus, I have-“

“I know, a Smithy doesn’t run on its own, it’s merely a…” He searched for the right words. “Formal request.”

It was always a formal request, she thought. She bowed low to the commander and, turning on her heel, walked quickly out of his study. The door closed behind her, almost silently. She padded swiftly down the long corridor of the palace and took the stairs down with no noise in her foot falls. Rounding a corner she terrified one of the pages, the adolescent had not heard her approach and was sitting on the stairs as she passed. He recovered quickly with cries for pardon and profuse bowing. Trilan simply laughed and continued to the ground floor. She navigated through halls and open ended rooms with ease, pausing in her exit only at the intersection of the West Hall and the Grand Library’s stair.