"Agreed," Aristocles said, as he wiped ale foam from his mustache. "And we may not want to stop it. Some of the mercenaries are already talking about slipping out at night and sacking his headquarters. If it weren't for the two bands of Styphon's Own Guard outside the Investigation headquarters, it would have already been done."
"It's bad enough they torture civilians day and night," Soton said bitterly, "but the women and children, too? How in Styphon's name can this Investigation be anything but Ormaz's work?"
Aristocles grimaced. "The Investigator is a mad dog. He should have his throat slit and body burned."
Sarmoth intoned quietly, "Should we be speaking of this matter at all? I hear that he has Styphon's Own Ears all over the camp."
"Thank you, for your concern, Sergeant," Aristocles said. "However, I have seen fit to surround the Grand Master's tent with our most loyal veterans. Even if we spoke thus before the tent, not a word would leave this camp. Our men have orders to strangle any would-be intelligencers that attempt to enter our camp, regardless of Roxthar's threats."
"Enough!" Soton snapped. "We have plans to make. Sesklos' death couldn't have come at a worse time. Right in the middle of our preparations to chase and destroy the Usurper."
Aristocles nodded. "We could not have given the Usurper Kalvan a better gift."
"True. With Phidestros leaving with most of the Host's mercenaries, Lysandros demanding to be Grand Captain-General of the Host and High Marshal Anaxon dragging his feet and squawking about the will of Great King Cleitharses, I'll be lucky to find anything left of this Host by the time I return from Balph."
"We will not leave until you return, Grand Master."
"I know. I gave my support to Lysandros in good faith and Styphon's House cannot afford to estrange its closest-maybe only-ally in the Northern Kingdoms."
"Do not stay too long, or we'll have to fight our way into the Trygath through rain and mud."
Soton groaned. "We should have left over a moon and half ago. The Host would be in Ulthor nipping at Kalvan's heels today, but for the vanity of Lysandros and the excesses of Roxthar."
Knight Commander Aristocles paused to refill his tankard with more ale. "It is also true that we needed time after the Siege to rebuild our supplies of fireseed. I will drill the men until they drop to make the best of this delay. The Grand Host should be like a hungry panther by the time of your return. I will do everything in my power to keep their spirits and blood thirst high."
"I expect no less, old friend."
SEVEN
After landing his aircar at the top of the Paratime Building, Field-Agent Maldar Dard went to the antigrav shaft and floated down to the floor housing Paratime Police Headquarters. It was his second visit to the Chief's new office and he was hoping that he was in line for the plum assignment of working on Kalvan's Time-Line. Verkan, whom he'd worked with on the Wizard Trader detail, had told him that he was looking for several of his best field agents to monitor events in his absence.
Paratime Police Chief Verkan was in a tight spot; he was facing charges of dereliction of duty due to his "obsession"-the kindest way it was being reported by the media-with Kalvan's Time-Line and his outtimer friends. Newsie Yandar Yadd never finished a broadcast without demanding a Paratime Commission investigation into the Chief's alleged abuses.
When Maldar reached the Chief's office, Verkan's secretary ushered him right into the room. Inside the Chief was seated at his famous horseshoe desk and behind him was the famous display cabinet with mementos of the Chief's most notable cases. There was something new this time-a horribly damaged breastplate which appeared to be from Kalvans Time-Line. Is this the infamous breastplate that stopped a two-ounce chunk of lead from spreading Verkan's ribs? If so, how did mere lead rip durasteel armor?
There were three other young field agents and one old timer, Deputy Bureau Chief Altarn Vor, with a long nose good for poking into tight spaces and a tight-lipped mouth. It was rumored that he was Verkan's first field commander and good friend, although, it was hard to imagine the two of them as allies, as they appeared so different on the surface. The urbane Verkan Vail and the stodgy old Deputy with a face like a vole.
"All of you know each other, except for Maldar Dard, who was with me on Third Level, Zthrykx Sector when we collared what we thought then was the command cell of the Wizard Traders. If it wasn't for Maldar's excellent shooting, four of the leaders would have reached their secret conveyer chamber before we could have stopped them."
"I read that report. Good work," Vordran Larn said, wearing a yellow cloak over his green Paratime Police uniform and some kind of outtime riding boots.
"Thanks," he replied.
"Field Agent Maldar, the man who just spoke is Inspector Vordran Larn, one of my top troubleshooters-only he usually shoots first. The tall man seated next to him is Kiro Soran, he's another First Class Field Agent, who should have been promoted long ago to Deputy Subchief. But he's too useful in the field, like yourself. You know Deputy Altarn. Inspector Kostran Galth is my man-on-the-spot-which right now is a very hot spot-in Greffa as head of the Greffan Study Team. Finally, that man over there- who looks like he's part of the furniture, but don't let that fool you; he's aware of everything going on in this room-is Dalzar Hoik. He's spent the last two years on Kalvan's Time-Line watching out for Rylla as Captain Dalzar; he's the one who saved her during the Phaxos fiasco. He took a gunshot to the shoulder for his efforts. If that doesn't qualify as hazardous duty, I don't know what does!"
They all laughed. The stories around the shop about Rylla's suicidal bravery and beauty were legend.
Verkan continued when the room quieted. "Since I'm going to be deskbound for the next year or so, at the very least, I'm sure all of you were thinking that you'd be acting as my surrogates on Kalvan's Time-Line."
Everyone but Deputy Bureau Chief Altarn nodded.
"Sorry, but we've got other fish to fry. Some of you are going to do some digging right here on Home Time Line, while the rest will do some reconnaissance on Kalvan's Time-Line." Verkan turned around and opened the door to the right side of his display case, removing the battered breastplate. "This was supposed to be a durasteel breastplate, made right here on Home Time Line, a special design for the Department's outtime inventory. Anyone have any idea of how the original-I've seen the manufacturer's manifest-got substituted by this chromium-steel alloy breastplate? It's good steel of First Level manufacture, but not impervious to two-ounces of lead shot at point-blank range.
"Obviously, there's termites in the walls. I want two of you, Deputy Altharn and Inspector Vordran, to look into this for me. This isn't an external enemy; it's one of our own gone bad. I'd get Internal Affairs on it, but for all I know Barton Shar may have infiltrated them, too."
Barton was the Paratime Police Deputy Inspector in charge of Stores and Equipment and was known to be deeply resentful that former Chief Tortha Karf had passed him over to advance his protege Verkan Vail. Maldar had heard all the scuttlebutt, but didn't feel any sympathy for him; no one with his head screwed on right had wanted Barton, who was as well known for his hair-trigger temper as his arse-kissing, to be Chief.
"Altarn thinks Barton may be in bed with Hasthor Flan." Verkan paused to let that sink in.
Hasthor Flan was the current head of the Opposition Party, and it would be hard to find a more fervent Verkan hater. It was also rumored that Hasthor had ties to Hadron Tharn, the Chief's mad-dog brother-in-law. Maldar was glad to not have been picked for this assignment; especially, since he preferred working outtime-like most Paratime Policemen.