Chapter 10

When they met with the dour Ban-Den for breakfast that morning, the short man seemed to vibrate with excitement, though he held himself until they recounted their conversation with Huídào the night before. "I mark nine for the arrest today," he told them. "Two for smuggling, seven for dereliction of duty or bribery, and all for fraud and conspiracy to defraud the child-Empress of custom and duty."

"Is that all of them?" Sable asked.

Ban-Den nodded, with an odd smile for her. "All the ones who brought materials into Sea's-Home untaxed. Huídào's brother bought up the ready stores from the Mineral Consortium, and asked for more. It would seem someone, likely one from the Mineral Consortium, arranged for larger quantities of nitre and sulphur to enter the port without notice. This is a good result ... these will name to me those who they traded with, or who asked them to bring the minerals in, have no fear."

Sable nodded, slowly. "I do not believe I want to ask why, do I?"

The short man's smile intensified. "No, I do not believe you want to ask, either."

"How do we do this thing?" McAllister asked. "Do you arrest them and parade them in front of someone, or do I wait until you have wrested from them the name of a conspirator or two, and then we go arrest them together?"

Ban-Den considered, then. "I do not need you as extra hands, I can draft some from the local constabulary. Conspiracy to commit tax evasion I can arrest them for, and if it is egregious enough, they can be put to death without much of a trial or much public notice. The ones you want these to tell you about, the ones who know why these materials were important, the ones with the secret ... it will take time to extract evidence enough to arrest them for a trial, try them, and kill them. That is probably time you do not wish to give them, and I do not think you want a public trial."

"Then I should confront and provoke the ones you have not yet arrested when you obtain those names," McAllister said. "Furthermore, as you say, I should do it without giving them time to prepare, and with maximum fear, and cause them to do something rash. The Collegian of the College of Natural Philosophy is one such, named by Huídào."

Sable spoke. "Those on the periphery, the academicians, who might put enough of two-and-two together to reach four after the principals are removed ... what of them?"

"I may summarily execute any number of the citizens of Han, though I would rather give their souls and mine the benefit of a trial," Ban-Den frowned. Still, though, if it is gods-sanctioned ... even then, I would rather they had a trial, unless there were no other way. I, like McAllister, would not execute a man simply for what he knows."

"Let us not go borrowing trouble," McAllister said, "it is likely the ones who knew enough of what is going on in Huídào's study are the total of the academicians involved. We shall have to question them and the others."

"Have a care, McAllister, with the question, lest you give away the secret you hope to keep."

He nodded to the dark-skinned beauty. "That is why I shall have you do the asking."

The two men walked along the hall, one tall, though sleek, and pale, as if he seldom saw the light of sun. He was somehow absent-looking, as if he were walking half in another plane. The other was shorter, broader, and much darker of expression. The scowl the short man wore should have given pause to a fully armored cavalry officer mounted and on the charge.

"I tell you, the merchants and dockworkers are all in an uproar," the shorter one said, "the Empire arrested nine this morning for smuggling and tax evasion."

"Someone else has been here and redone my job," the other, obviously a sorcerer, announced, "someone with a more-deft hand than mine. This is not my work."

"Just open the door," the shorter man grunted.

"I sense something unnatural, more than just sorcery, and I sense I am being watched. Now you have told me that the Empire has arrested nine men and you seem agitated by the news." No longer did the man seem to only be half in the world, now he was fully focused on the man before him. "Either you tell me what is going on, or I shall walk away. I have no desire to run afoul of the child-Empress, whether it be intentional or as an unwitting accomplice."

"There is something behind that door one of my researchers is working on," the Collegian said, sourly. "His sister is in there, she is a weak sorceress. She is trying to keep that discovery secret from the rest of the world, just as I am. She believes I will misuse it, she does not trust that the halls of Academe can hold the thing her brother has worked on."

"Take my advice, then, Collegian, and find the child-Empress' agent and tell him all you have told me, and I would think he will let you live in peace. I will not remove this seal." The taller man, the sorcerer, strode down the hall in the direction the two came from.

The shorter man, the Collegian leaned his head against the heavy wooden door. "Huídào," he said, clearly not expecting a response. "I don't know where things have gone awry. I will do my best to protect you. I'm sorry," he said, and then turned to follow the sorcerer, albeit more slowly.

The small metal statuette of a horse stirred then, and stepped out from under the display-chest in the hallway. A moment later, a woman of dark metallic coloration stood in the hallway and slipped away.

They met with Ban-Den at the guest-house room for the noonday meal. "I think we have all of the conspirators identified," Ban-Den said. "We will start with the sorcerer, and verify his limited participation was under a legal request."

Sable nodded. "He knew I was in the hall. Not me specifically, but a sorcerer."

McAllister nodded. "I am noticing the internal fire in some I pass in the University or on the street, now."

"McAllister, not all of what you sense has the same feel, does it not?"

Frowning, he replied. "Now that you mention it, it does not."

"It was how the Agents of Hell were able to sense us," Sable responded. "I know of no way to mask it, though I had hopes for your brooch."

"I will begin to explore it," he promised, "when this ... exercise? task? is complete."

Ban-Den said nothing about it, though McAllister was positive he would remember every word. When the short sub-lieutenant spoke, it was about the afternoon's plan. "Imperial agents are watching the Mineral-Guild's warehouse. None are allowed to enter or exit. It will avail them nothing to destroy records. Destroying records is punishable by execution on the spot. In this way, we give the truly guilty a chance to sort out whether or not they will cause the child-Empress the expense of a trial. Come, now. We will visit this sorcerer," he ordered.

Less than five minutes later, the three stood before the administrative functionary for the Sorcerer's Wing of the University. "The one I seek is tall, and lacking in color," Ban-Den announced, peremptorily.

"I know of three under my administration who meet that description. Two are within, and I could send a runner for the third." McAllister felt something from the other, much like he felt from the Hellhounds months before, though removed at a distance.

Ban-Den, however, was not impressed. "I shall talk to the two, and if necessary, I will ask for the runner. Where are they? While I speak to one, the other is not to leave, by the order of the child-Empress."

"Very well," the functionary said, still unperturbed. "Room sixteen, on this level, and room thirty-four, on the second level."

"That one is possessed by a demon," Sable not-said to McAllister, with a little unease in her 'voice'. "He is completely enthralled. I should guess the demon is the administrator, and the human that once-was a former criminal, used as the demon's hands in this plane."

McAllister did not shudder often, though he shuddered this time as they walked past the functionary.

Ban-Den saw it, and gave McAllister a grim smile. "They all fear the child-Empress more," he said, and McAllister nodded.

The walk was quick, to the first office, room sixteen. Ban-Den wasted no time, opening the door and demanding an answer. "Do you know what authority I represent?"

This time, there was fear from the occupant, who had been copying from one thick book to another, with a quill pen. "Yes."

"This is not the one," Sable said silently, though Ban-Den made no reaction.

"Answer then. Is there any activity you are pursuing or are aware of that may be deemed either illegal or harmful to the good rule and order of the child-Empress?"

After three minutes passed McAllister remarked in the quiet way to Sable, "I wonder what he will answer. He certainly is considering it long enough."

Finally, the other began counting on his fingers. Ban-Den rolled his eyes at Sable and McAllister, then turned a grim face back to the hapless sorcerer.

"There are twenty-seven major crimes, at least fifty minor, and three that are questionable," the man spoke. "This is going back ninety-one years. Before then I was likely guilty of petty thefts as a boy in my father's care. I have nine current projects or avenues of research, three of which may yield questionable results."

Ban-Den stood silent, while the other began detailing his offenses from his childhood forward. Sable laughed into McAllister's mind, harder with each one.

"We are finished here," Ban-Den said. "You will find an orphan girl and school her until she completes the course of study for an apprentice sorcerer. You will find a man with no home and support him until he has found useful employment — you may tell him the child-Empress has ordered him to do so within one year. Cease the investigation into the recuperative powers of frogs' eggs. Frogs are not men, and the effort is wasted."

Ban-Den stood as the sorcerer before him bowed to his judgment, and then led the way out of the room.

"Only an hour wasted," he said. "The ones at the warehouse should be nearly frantic in about two more. Next."

Sable led the way up the stair to the second floor, where Ban-Den pushed open the door to room thirty-four.

"He is the one," Sable said quietly, as the man in the room looked up.

"Note there is no fear," Ban-Den spoke aloud, to Sable and McAllister. "This one has had occasion to think the agents of the child-Empress may be after him, and has convinced himself he is free of complicity or guilt in some matter."

"This is true," the man at the desk said. "I was engaged by the Collegian of the Natural Philosophies, and he had asked me to seal a door. He was greatly worried that what was behind the door would escape to the world. I think he was more greatly worried than I could explain, and when there was news of arrests at the docks this morning, I declined to unseal the door he had me seal."

"You tell truth, in as much as you say," Ban-Den said, with a tinge of amusement for the others to hear. "Since you have begun to speculate on the Collegian's state of mind, please, continue."

The other looked more uncertain now. "I think he has angered the man whose research he had been subsidizing, and went to purchase materials to expand the scope of the research. I believe control of the situation has slipped from his fingers. Anything beyond that is mere guesswork, and I could only do more harm than good by speculating."

"And of the seal on the door?" Ban-Den's voice was mild, as if he were speaking of the weather.

"I could immediately see it was not my handiwork," the sorcerer said. "It was better. I thought instantly of the resources of the child-Empress, and knew this was not for me."

"Who else have you told of your suspicions?"

"No one. The Collegian, but that was when I refused to open the door."

"What do you suppose they were researching in that office?"

"Something of power, that required some minerals. I have made no effort to determine which."

Ban-Den turned to Sable. "Do you wish to ask anything?"

Sable declined, with a single headshake 'no'.

"Do not speak of it again," Ban-Den ordered the sorcerer. "By Imperial command."

At McAllister's side, the wooden stick in his pocket twitched. Bemusedly, McAllister pulled it out of his pocket, and faced it to see the sorcerer behind the desk. Almost immediately, he felt a spike in the animosity the stick normally exuded. Mostly to see what the sorcerer behind the desk might say, McAllister told him, "Be wary. Now it knows you. Choose your actions with care."

The sorcerer licked dry lips, his eyes locked on the stick in McAllister's hands. "That is only wisdom, and I can see you are my better. Now I know whose handiwork the seal on the door was. I will not misstep."

McAllister wordlessly returned the stick to his pocket and turned to step out of the room. Sable, then Ban-Den followed behind him.

"I do not know if that was wise," Ban-Den said in the western wing, as Sable led the way to the Natural Philosophy offices. "It was, however, certainly effective. He is now far more frightened of you than he is of me."

"Allow me a question with the Collegian, if you please, sub-Lieutenant," Sable asked.

The other nodded.

"Did you take delivery of any of the second order?" Ban-Den asked the Collegian.

"No!" The man was uncomfortable, and frightened, McAllister knew, the questioning having gone on for a half-hour. "I only ever received fifteen pounds of sulphur, and fifteen pounds of nitre."

McAllister asked gently, "Where did the charcoal come from?"

"We used no charcoal," was the answer. "There are seams of soft, sooty coal in the mountains south of here. We heat many buildings in Sea's-Home with it, it is widely available."

Frowning, McAllister asked, "That would make a weak powder. Did she or her brother purify the coal somehow?"

"In clay pots placed in a fire made of the same coal," the reply came.

"Did the mineral guildsman witness this?" McAllister asked, sharply.

At the other's perplexed confirmation, McAllister sighed. "Huídào was feeling desperate, not trusting the guildsman, no? Thus, she escalated the game. Of late, she was experimenting on another form, much more violent, harder to start, and easier to transport and pack, was she not? But she could not keep the stuff from burning on its own, as it dried."

The Collegian gasped. "You are truly a sorcerer! How did you know?"

McAllister only smiled.

"McAllister, there were six tons of sulphur and twenty of nitre smuggled into the city and stored in the warehouse of the Mineral Guild," Ban-Den said, seriously.

"How long ago?" McAllister asked.

"Some three weeks gone," Ban-Den told him.

"That was when Jūngjing stopped pressuring me for the secret," the Collegian whispered. "I have been a fool."

Sable stood, then, and made a gesture to quell Ban-Den. "Why were you a fool, Mù-tou?"

This time, as it was spoken, McAllister heard the name oddly, both in the sound and its translation, "Wooden Table". Mentally shaking his head for the translation-gift of the Mother, he almost missed the reply.

"Her brother needed to do well."

"So you could court her?" Sable's voice was soft as a summer night's breeze.

"Yes," he said, muffled.

Ban-Den gave Sable a look of respect. "We do not execute the misguided, or the misfortunate," he said. "I sense no malice on your part." With a short bark of laughter, "Hai!" he turned to McAllister. "Is three weeks enough time for them to make however much of this stuff six tons of sulphur and twenty of nitre will make?"

McAllister nodded. "The sulphur is only needed to make an easier-starting powder. So much nitre, mixed in the right proportion and made into corns would leave a circle of devastation fifty yards wide, and level many homes for hundreds of yards more. Much flaming debris, and worse, would rain down across the city sparking many fires, and when it rains, the poison left behind the blast would foul wells and fountains downstream for weeks."

"There would not be much of the city unaffected, then, as the Mineral-Guild is on a central hill, where they can roll salts and tanning agents downhill to the weavers and tanners. You would expect great loss of life, then, I see."

"Leaving them alone in the warehouses has most likely served them with a means to hold the city hostage," McAllister agreed.

The Collegian, Mùtou, went white.

"The child-Empress does not deal for hostages," Ban-Den said mildly. "Ever."

The day outside was overcast with many layers of heavy, scudding cloud, and the northern latitude meant cool, crisp breezes in the early autumn air. McAllister was minded of apples from his native Scotland, though he'd not seen anything of their like in this plane.

"We shall have to kill all the men inside at once," Ban-Den mused. "It will be difficult. We believe there are between seven and eleven men inside. There are only six of us, eight with you and the Lady Sable."

McAllister said nothing. Even with his experience as a Captain of Marines he had nothing to add to the plan or how the men would execute it. He kept his silence about the implication that Sable would enter the building also. Ban-Den surprised him, then, asking, "The sorcerer named you his better. Is there something you could do to stop the men inside?"

Sable shook her head 'no', and McAllister shrugged. "I do not know. I lack experience to improvise."

"The child-Empress does not deal for hostages," Ban-Den said to the two import-tax men at the door to the warehouse.

The two men ducked their heads in unison at the pronouncement. "You, go tell the others. Three-hundred." The man so ordered ran to the left side of the building, counting backwards the while. When all were told the count, and the count reached zero, they would burst through windows and doors, counting on the shock and surprise to overwhelm the inhabitants.

Ban-Den held a pair of curious throwing-knives, diamond-shaped blades, with oddly lumpy hilts, offering one to McAllister, who declined.

Sable held an odd look in her eye, though she held her new blade at the ready. Beside them, the remaining import-tax man made ready to break down the door.

Ban-Den smiled at McAllister. "Ready?" The question could have been asked at the entrance to a restaurant, instead of at the doorway to some twenty-tons of black powder.