The College is not a grand affair. No grounds, no quadrangles with statues. Not even a fountain. It’s a dark old stone building that used to serve as the headquarters of the Honourable Merchants Association, till the Association grew wealthy and moved to a better part of town. Its dim corridors are full of young students carrying scrolls and trying to look studious. Several elderly men in togas, presumably professors, stand around looking severe. Though the wearing of a toga is standard among Turai’s upper classes, you don’t see many of them south of the river.
Professor Toarius has a very fine toga, as I discover when I enter his office. Gaining entry was easier than I expected, the receptionist outside not being used to repelling large Investigators. The Professor is elderly, grey-haired, aquiline-nosed and stuffed full of dignity. He’s a man of some reputation among Turai’s academics. He’s on the board at the Imperial University and it’s counted as a great favour from the Consul to the humble Guild College that the Professor was appointed to this position. I understand from Makri that Toarius rules the establishment in a manner which allows no room for debate. When I stride into his office he looks up from a dusty old book and frowns.
“Who let you in?” he demands.
“No one.”
“If this is some matter regarding your son’s education, you will have to make an appointment.”
“I don’t have a son. At least not to my knowledge. Although I did travel the world as a mercenary in my younger days, so I admit it’s not impossible.”
The room is crammed full of books and scrolls. As always when faced with evidence of learning, I’m uncomfortable.
“I’m here about Makri.”
The Professor goes rigid in his chair.
“Get out of my office,” he demands.
“What evidence do you have against her?”
Professor Toarius rises swiftly and pulls on a bell rope behind him. The clerk hurries in from the office outside.
“Call our security guards,” instructs the Professor.
This is worse than I expected. I feel surprised that Toarius is so unwilling to discuss the matter, and even more surprised that this place actually has security guards.
“You can’t just expel Makri like this, Professor.”
“I already have. It was a mistake to allow her to attend the College, and now that she has committed theft I have no option but to permanently exclude her.”
The door opens behind me and two brawny individuals in rough brown tunics hurry into the room. I ignore them.
“You don’t get my meaning, Professor. You can’t expel Makri because I won’t allow it.”
This amuses Toarius.
“You won’t allow it? And how will you prevent it?”
“By referring the matter to the Senate. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Thraxas, Tribune of the People.”
“Tribune? That post has been extinct for over a century.”
“Till recently revived by Deputy Consul Cicerius. And I have the power to prevent any act of exclusion against any citizen of Turai without the matter being debated in the Senate. So before I’m forced to make the matter public, why don’t we discuss it?”
“Do you think that the Senate will have the slightest interest in the fate of an Orcish thief?”
Makri isn’t actually Orcish. She has one quarter Orcish blood, along with one quarter Elvish. Having grown up in an Orcish slave pit, she hates them. Calling her an Orc is a deadly insult. I can see why she found life under the Professor tough.
“The Senate will have to show an interest. It’s the law, and Cicerius is a stickler for the law.”
“I am a good deal better acquainted with Deputy Consul Cicerius than you.”
The Professor puts down his book. His frown deepens.
“Are you the same Thraxas who was denounced last year in the Senate for your part in the scandal concerning the Elvish cloth which went missing?”
“Yes. But I was later exonerated.”
“No doubt,” says the Professor drily. “Few guilty men are convicted in this city. And now you claim to be some sort of employee of the government? I have heard nothing about it.”
“I’ve been keeping it quiet. Now, about Makri. What evidence do you have that she stole the money?”
Professor Toarius doesn’t want to discuss it. He abruptly orders his men to throw me out. They hesitate.
“I think this man really is a Tribune. I saw him stop an eviction a few months back. . . . Senator Lodius was with him. . . .”
The guards stand awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do. They don’t want to offend the Professor, but neither do they want to end up being hauled in front of a Senate committee for interfering with official business. Professor Toarius solves the impasse by marching out of the room, muttering about the degeneracy of a city which can allow a man like me to walk around unpunished.
“Is he always like this?” I ask the guards.
“Yes.”
“You appreciate I really am a Tribune of the People? You can’t throw me out of this place while I’m conducting an investigation.”
The guards shrug. I don’t get the impression they’re that desperate to do the Professor’s bidding. Probably he’s not the sort of man to inspire loyalty among his menial staff.
“You know Makri?”
The larger of the two guards almost smiles.
“We know her.”
“Violent temper,” adds his companion.
“Once chased some poor young guy round the building after he made some comment she didn’t like. What does she expect? She doesn’t exactly cover herself up a lot.”
I ask them what they know about the expulsion. They don’t know much.
“We weren’t involved. All we heard was that some money went missing and she took it. The Professor told us to make sure she didn’t get back in the building.”
“Did you look into it at all?”
“Why would we?” asks the larger guard. “We’re just here to keep the dwa dealers outside from bothering the students. If the Professor expels someone, it’s nothing to do with us.”
“She probably stole the money,” adds the other guard. “I didn’t mind the woman, but she is part Orcish. She was bound to start stealing sooner or later.”
“Good body, though,” adds his friend. “She should stick to being a dancer.”
I ask if they know of anyone who might fill me in on a few more details. They suggest Rabaxos.
“It was his money that went missing. Probably find him in the library now. He’s a little guy in a shabby tunic. Always got his nose in a scroll. Father owns a fishing boat but I guess being a fisherman isn’t good enough for his son. Why are you so bothered about the girl anyway?”
A good question. I leave them without answering it. It’s hot and stuffy inside the old building but I’ve got more on my mind than the uncomfortable weather. I swore I wouldn’t use my Tribunate powers again for any reason. Now, thanks to Makri, I’ve been forced into it. I know what’s going to happen now. People are going to appear at my door, asking for help. Once the downtrodden masses learn that I’ve invoked my powers, they’ll all be looking for assistance. Every person in Twelve Seas with some gripe against authority will be demanding action. I’d better strengthen my door-locking spell. I’ve no intention of spending my life helping the downtrodden masses; I’m downtrodden enough myself.
That’s not the worst of it. Deputy Consul Cicerius was furious when I used my powers during the winter, particularly as it was to aid Senator Lodius, head of the opposition party. If I get involved in anything else of a similar nature, Cicerius will be down on me like a bad spell. Once a man gets involved in politics in this city, there’s no telling what might happen. Time was when the Tribunes of the People were forever entering into the political fray. More often than not they ended up being assassinated for their troubles, or dragged up in court on trumped-up charges by their opponents. To be a politician in this city you need a lot of backing, and a lot of backing is something I don’t have.