Duty Bound Page 8

  “Thanks for the tip, but Captain Cham and I are aware of our duties. We read the handbook you were good enough to revamp for us.” Jev smiled icily, far more annoyed at the man’s dismissal of Zenia than any suggestion that he was slacking at his job.

  Garlok scowled down at his papercut-laden fingers. “I’ll be shocked if you’ve read it already. Or if you intend to at all. I don’t know why you took this job, war hero, but it requires more than poking enemies with swords.”

  Since Jev had never described himself as a war hero, he assumed someone else had described him thus to Garlok. Or maybe Garlok had decided to adopt the term for his own sarcastic needs. It did surprise him that Garlok seemed to think he’d merely been an infantry officer out there. Even if he was still finding his way into this job, and dearly needed to get up-to-date on all foreign and internal affairs, he didn’t think himself unqualified, not after leading the intelligence company in the army. Granted, he’d commanded the smart men who’d done most of the footwork and didn’t claim any brilliance himself, but wasn’t that similar to what he was now doing here? He thought so.

  “You’re not a field agent here,” Garlok went on, and Jev wished he hadn’t paused to reflect. It must have given Garlok time to ramp himself up for more. “You have field agents. You should spend your days in the office, doing paperwork. Unless you find the paperwork too daunting. Maybe you could become a field agent and let me have my old job back.” Garlok’s eyes glinted, and Jev had no doubt the man would love to zyndar over him and send him off on idiotic errands. Maybe he was even contemplating some way to make that come about.

  “The fact that you believe paperwork is more daunting than going into battle with men trying to kill you tells me you did nothing but sit on your ass for the ten years I was fighting for the king in enemy territory.” Maybe Jev should have asked Zenia to launch snide comments for him. He didn’t seem to be as good at it.

  “I can do more from my ass while eating a sandwich and drinking a beer than you ever will from your feet,” Garlok said.

  “Once you two decide who has the bigger penis, can you come back here, Jev?” Zenia asked.

  He grunted, happy for the excuse to end the infantile conversation, and headed past Garlok to where Zenia stood behind her desk, a desk buried in mounds of folders. His own desk was even more covered. Or was the word smothered? They’d only brought that desk in for him a few days ago. How could it have acquired so many folders so quickly?

  Garlok’s face grew a few shades redder, and he lurched to his feet. Jev thought he might launch a physical attack, but the man merely strode toward the coatrack by the door.

  Jev stopped in front of his desk, keeping his back to Garlok so the man wouldn’t see his reaction to the towering stacks of folders. Granted, he hadn’t been in here much in the last couple of days, but this was ridiculous. Zenia’s was piled almost as high, and she had been here. Maybe not much today, but in the previous days, she had been. Jev didn’t see how so much could have accumulated unless…

  He turned, squinting at Garlok. The man was standing with his hand on the doorknob, smirking.

  “You sure you don’t find that daunting?” Garlok asked.

  Had he somehow encouraged all the agents to turn in extra work?

  “Not at all,” Zenia answered for Jev. “I’m disappointed the stacks are so small. I’ll be done with these in an hour, and then what will I do? Help Steward Korik catalog the king’s wine cellar?”

  Garlok grunted and strode out, slamming the door behind him.

  “It’s possible that man doesn’t like me,” Zenia said.

  “He just doesn’t like that we were promoted and he was demoted. He’ll get over it.”

  Or he would hatch a dastardly plot that they would have to deal with instead of focusing on finding Grindmor. Jev grimaced.

  “This is a quarterly weather phenomenon report for the regions around the kingdom,” Zenia observed, looking into one folder. “Turned in two months early.”

  “I’m wagering there’s some fluff in these piles.”

  She opened a folder on another stack. “Hm, some legitimate reports too.”

  Jev eyed the mounds on his desk. He’d wanted to see if anything important was going on, but the idea of sorting maintenance reports from useful information gave him a headache. It had already been a long day. Maybe he would save this fun for the morning. Or for after they completed their mission.

  Jev snorted at himself, disgusted to admit that Garlok had been right in that he did find mounds of paperwork more daunting than going into battle. He wouldn’t mind a fight right now, a way to release some tension. Maybe he could find Lornysh tonight and get him to spar with him. If nothing else, his friend might have some new ideas on Cutter’s whereabouts. Lornysh was likely searching for him too.

  “Want to leave this for tomorrow and come with me to get some dinner?” Jev asked.

  Zenia used her finger to bookmark a file she’d already started looking through and considered him. “Thanks, but I think I’ll wait and have dinner later.”

  Right, dinner dates might lead to other things. Like them groping each other behind a waterfall. Jev sighed and decided it wasn’t a bad idea for them to spend some time apart.

  “Good night, Zenia.”

  “Night,” she murmured, her focus already back on the report as she slid into her seat.

  After dinner, Jev found Lornysh at the elven embassy. Fortunately, Lornysh somehow sensed him standing outside the courtyard wall and came out before Jev had to lob stones at his window from the rooftop of the nearby tavern.

  “Any news on Cutter?” Lornysh asked before Jev could ask a similar question.

  Jev felt a twinge of disappointment, knowing that meant his friend hadn’t found Cutter either. “Not really. We found out he may have been working with, or perhaps paid, a guild called the Night Travelers to provide information on Iridium’s guild, the Fifth Dragon. Or to help him spy on them at least. I take it you haven’t learned anything new about his whereabouts?”

  “No, and I confess I’m growing concerned.” Lornysh pushed back the hood he’d worn as he stepped through the gate, and his silver locks spilled to his shoulders as he leaned against the courtyard wall. “I’ve hunted all over the city and questioned people from the watch and also from your various criminal guilds.”

  “They would have likely lied to you.”

  “They did not,” Lornysh said with a chilling confidence that reminded Jev that his friend had a cold, deadly streak. He had even assassinated his own kind before. He was capable of forcefully questioning people and not caring a whit about making enemies among the guilds. “Nobody knows anything about Cutter,” Lornysh added. “Or about Master Grindmor. I’ve assumed they’re together, but I also asked about her. As far as the city knows, she’s disappeared. You’ve probably already seen it, but there was a front-page article about her disappearance in one of your newspapers today.”

  Jev grimaced. He hadn’t seen it, but maybe a copy was among the piles of papers on his desk. He felt guilty anew for leaving without at least skimming through everything and resolved to go in early in the morning. If he arrived before Garlok, maybe the man would keep his yap shut.

  “Do you think they may have been taken outside of the city?” Lornysh asked when Jev didn’t speak. “I don’t know the rest of your kingdom well, I admit. Do you have any new ideas on where to look?”

  He sounded more agitated than usual, and Jev sensed his true concern for Cutter. Judging from the way they constantly sniped at each other, it was easy to think their friendship wasn’t that deep, but Jev knew better. They had been the two non-humans in Gryphon Company, both isolated from their own kind and not quite fitting in with the human soldiers. They had spent a lot of time together, even though Lornysh had been a scout often out in the woods, and Cutter had usually been back in camp, carving gems and repairing tools and weapons for people. Jev had occasionally noticed them talking quietly in the trees at night,
apart from the humans communing around the campfires.

  “I wish I had more ideas,” Jev said. “I may have to go see Iridium.”

  “The guild leader Cutter wanted you to have sex with?”

  “Er, yes. But not for that reason. I believe she may know who has Master Grindmor’s tools—it’s possible she still has them stashed away somewhere. They’re the most likely bait that would have been used if there truly was a kidnapping.”

  “I’ve questioned one of her Fifth Dragon men that I caught out alone in those tunnels. He knew nothing.”

  “I don’t think she’s the sort to share confidences with underlings.” Jev hadn’t seen anyone who had seemed like a mate or second-in-command when he had been there. “I doubt anyone in her organization is privy to all her thoughts.”

  “So we should question her.”

  “We?” Jev had been thinking of taking Zenia—and her dragon tear—along, not Lornysh.

  Admittedly, Zenia didn’t want anything to do with Iridium. Understandable, but Jev thought their new knowledge of the spy hole looking into the Fifth Dragon’s storage room might be information Iridium would consider valuable enough to trade for.

  “I can effectively get answers from people,” Lornysh said.

  “Without ripping off their fingernails?”

  “Are you partial to the woman’s fingernails?”

  “No, but she might be.”

  “Irrelevant.”

  “Look, Lornysh.” Jev patted him on the shoulder. “You’re a visitor here, so you don’t have to worry about repercussions, but the watch and even zyndar tread lightly when dealing with the guilds. They have a lot of power and influence. If I irked Iridium, I could end up with a legion of assassins on my tail.” At least he wouldn’t have to worry about his father’s marriage plans for him if he ended up dead before this mission was completed.

  “So, kill her after we learn what we need,” Lornysh said. “Her minions will be too busy attempting to claim her territory for themselves to bother you.”

  “You’re a pragmatic soul, aren’t you?”

  “I am, but it doesn’t take pragmatism to realize the folly of allowing assassins to be assigned to hunt you down. Let us go speak with this woman.”

  “Very well.” Jev didn’t need much convincing since he had already been considering it. “But let me do the talking. I want to try bartering information before threatening fingernail removal.” Especially since they would have to enter Iridium’s domain to find her, and she would be well-protected there. As he recalled, she had a dragon tear of her own, one carved with a dagger. It would lend her superhuman ability in combat.

  “I know of two entrances into her territory.”

  Lornysh did not, Jev noticed, make any promises or agreements regarding fingernails.

  “Is either of them from the river?” Jev also knew of two entrances, one that started outside the city walls at the beginning of the mangroves and one that entered from an alley just inside the city wall. They were the ones he’d been led through and escaped through when she’d had him kidnapped. He knew both would be guarded since they had been for his previous visit. Master Grindmor had flattened the men guarding the alley entrance, using magic to bring rocks down on them. Now that Jev thought about it, those rocks may have blocked that entrance permanently.

  “No.”

  “Are they guarded?”

  “They were the last time I entered the tunnels,” Lornysh said. “I dealt with the guards.”

  Jev decided not to ask if those guards were still alive. “Let’s see if we can find the river entrance that Zenia described to me—her dragon tear showed it to her. It probably won’t be guarded, and if I come in that way, Iridium should believe me when I say she has a breach in security.”

  “That sounds more complicated than dealing with guards.”

  “Are you not up to the challenge?”

  “I’ll accept any challenge. Let me go get my bow.”

  Jev offered him an army salute, his hand to the side of his eye, and smiled.

  7

  “What has you so engrossed? Love letters?”

  At the familiar voice, Zenia sat up straight in her desk chair. Her back ached a protest at her choice to sit in the same spot hunched over for so long.

  Rhi was walking down the center aisle toward her, a lantern in her hand. Most of the lamps in the office had been extinguished long ago. Not wanting to be wasteful, Zenia had only left the ones on her desk and Jev’s desk burning.

  “I had my date with Steward Korik,” Rhi said, “in case you were wondering. I’m heading back to my palatial horse loft room now.” Rhi looked at the desk in front of Zenia, the folders spread open across it. “It’s late. Not as late as Korik would have liked, but he was overly gropy for my tastes, and I had no qualms about letting him know.”

  “Gropy?”

  “It’s a word. It describes a man who thinks he can slide a hand between a woman’s thighs whether she’s given him the touch-me look or not.”

  “Oh.” Zenia did not know why Rhi had returned to the office, but Zenia was delving into the foreign-agent reports on Jev’s desk and finding them quite interesting, so she wanted to go back to reading. She hadn’t planned to start organizing his mess—it had taken her three hours to wrangle hers into tidiness—but she’d decided she would help him by going through a couple of piles. She’d seen that daunted expression on his face, the one he’d carefully hidden from Garlok, followed by an almost panicked one. She believed he would appreciate it if he had a stack or two fewer to deal with in the morning.

  “I guess you’re not going to ask what a touch-me look is,” Rhi said.

  “That’s correct. I’d assumed you wouldn’t give me one, regardless.”

  “Nah, probably not.” Rhi stopped in front of the desk and tapped one of the folders. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “About what?” Zenia struggled not to let irritation come out in her tone, but she truly wanted to get back to work.

  “Love letters. I’m not your swiftest agent yet, but I do know that’s Zyndar Dharrow’s desk and not yours.”

  “Yes, I’m helping him organize his reports.”

  “You’re doing his paperwork? Did he ask you to?”

  “No, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  “I’m sure he won’t either. He’ll probably kiss you.” Rhi tilted her head. “If you’ll allow it. I’m still trying to figure out why you won’t. I know he’s interested in you. I’ve seen him look at your chest when he doesn’t think anyone is looking.”

  Zenia pressed her lips together and focused on the report before her. “Did you know that our kingdom is in a precarious position when it comes to relations with other nations?”

  She didn’t truly want to draw Rhi into a conversation about the documents she was perusing, but it would be better than talking about Jev. And Rhi might grow bored more quickly and go home to bed.

  “What nations? Drovak or Vilk?”

  “No, we’re still on speaking terms with our human neighbors. But it seems our choice to make war on the Taziir has alienated us with them and the three lesser elven kingdoms in the world. Also, the dwarves of Preskabroto and Rocknishgar cut off trade and diplomatic relations with us last winter. I didn’t realize that. I don’t think it was in the newspapers.”

  “Maybe Prince Dazron thought it would be wise not to let people know we’re making enemies of the other sentient races in the world.” Rhi shrugged. “Does it matter though? It’s been a long time since we traded much with the dwarves and elves. They have those insular tendencies, right?”

  “I’m not sure that’s true. There used to be a lot of races that came through Korvann, and we traded with everyone. I’ve heard that before I was born, trolls, orcs, and ogres even came to the docks and traded from their ships.”

  “Must have been devastating to the city not to get any more of those shrunken ogre heads that their shamans make.”

  Zenia tapped t
he report in front of her. “My point is that I understand now why the king is so eager to patch things up with the dwarves. According to reports from agents monitoring the goings on in three different nations, the trolls of Borc’tol have taken note that we’re no longer aligned with any dwarves or elves, any peoples at all who can use magic outside of dragon tears. They’ve been watching our war and waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “An opportunity. For us to weaken ourselves and deplete our resources.” Zenia decided she had better stay in the office all night to get thoroughly caught up with everything on Jev’s desk. She had been thinking of that as his domain and domestic affairs as hers, but if trouble came to Kor’s shores from without, it would be a problem for both of them. And for the entire kingdom.

  “Well, we did that, didn’t we?” Rhi asked.

  “Yes.” Zenia met her eyes, trying to convey the grimness of the reports.

  Rhi frowned at her. “Is there more in there than you’ve told me?”

  “Just that enemies we haven’t dealt with in generations have been observed gathering resources and making preparations for travel. Or expansion.”

  “Enemies like orcs and trolls? They don’t work together, right? And they’re all over on other continents these days. We’d have a lot of warning if they planned to visit Kor. Weeks, at least. It takes a while to sail an army over in ships. Besides, why would they pick on Kor specifically? There are seven human kingdoms and all manner of smaller tribal nations spread throughout the world. Most of them aren’t cozying up to elves and dwarves, either, from what I’ve heard. Everybody got snippy with each other when it got crowded enough for people to run out of fertile land and resources.”

  “Nice to know you occasionally picked up a book in between meditating and following your monkly vows of celibacy.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “You’re right about all of that, as far as I know, but I also know Kor is particularly desirable due to the sea access, rivers that make inland travel easy, and its claim on the ore-rich Erlek Mountains.”