The King's Might: A Legend of Averdan

Part Two, Chapter Three

THREE

In Which Things Reach a Surprising Height of Rottenness

"So she's all right? Really and truly all right?"

"I think she is. Everything she said made perfect sense. Were our situation the same, there's not much I would have done differently."

Alair looked at him for a long minute.

"Okay," he said at last. "If you believe it, I do too. We'll start asking questions tomorrow morning."

"Sounds good."

"'Night, Jalith."

"'Night, Alair."

****

The Census proceeded.

Jalith had never conducted the Census before. Usually, there were specially trained diplomats for this sort of thing. But the situation, as he told Machertani, was unusual.

He told her about the men. He told her about his father's punishment.

"I know he's trying to help me," Jalith said. "Staying in the city would have been death, after what I did."

"Sounds like you could take care of yourself to me," Machertani said, smiling.

They were at breakfast. The Census of Oot province was nearly half completed. In spite of the lack of answers to his questions, in spite of the uneasiness he still felt at the perfection of the city, he was beginning to wish it would never end. He planned to find storerooms to count, workers deep in the country to be interviewed and recorded. If he had to, he planned on counting every blade of grass and twig of juniper in this stunted country.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "the wine's very good here. Almost..."

"...sour?"

"Yes, sour! I wouldn't think I'd like it, if someone described it to me, but there you go. Sour and good. This is such a strange place."

"But you like it here. You keep telling me."

"Well...yes. I suppose I do." Jalith smiled, looked down into his wine cup. "I just wish...I wish I knew the answer to this problem. I wish I could solve that child's murder--all the murders."

"You've still got time. We thought it might take a while--who knows where these people even live? Some of these children have not even had homes to trace back to. Not all of them were as fortunate as this little girl, with a mother who loved her and a place at the courts."

"You know, I've been thinking. That Merrit woman. Is she well enough to talk to yet? I hate to intrude on a mother's grief, but she might have some answers. She's the closest thing to a witness I have right now."

Machertani shook her head. "She's mad from grief, Jalith. Simply mad from it. If I thought it would help us I would say yes, but honestly? The state she's in, it might be better to give her another day or two. I hate to stress her when she's like this. It might send her over the brink permanently."

"Of course you're right. But still, perhaps we could--"

"Jalith," Alair said. "Could I talk to you for a second?"

Alair had been taking a shift in the audience room, questioning and counting the townspeople while Jalith and Machertani had breakfast. He was rumpled and dirty, and sported a few days' growth of beard. He had been working very hard--hard enough for two, as it happened.

He had been working for two a lot lately. As Jalith promenaded with his new favorite person, eating glorious sugar-glazed breakfast confections and admiring the various positioning of black and white drapes in black and white rooms, Alair had been spending the little spare time he had investigating.