Chương 81: Chapter 82: Night Work

Interlude 8 Miriam's surrender to the Hallonel estate didn't go as smoothly as she'd hoped. The carriage did indeed turn around, only to bring her in chains to a stately manor house which made her home back in WIllow Crest, the largest in the town, look positively provincial in comparison. Of course, Willow House didn't have a jail in its basement. This one did.

Days of interrogation followed, but Miriam steadfastly refused to identify anyone she had seen involved with the assassination plot until her demands were met. She supposed she had gotten lucky; though they threatened her with every torture under the sun, they didn't actually do any of them. Finally on what she thought was the fourth day a man in a fine blue coat walked into her cell. He looked to have ten years on her - some gray was already coming in at the temples and in parts of his short beard.

He had a stool brought in, which he sat on, looking down to where Miriam huddled on the cold stone floor.

"Let's say I believe you," the man said, his accent unlike anything she had heard in Marybel.

"Let's say you are telling the truth about this amazing tale. That you overpowered an assassin of the secret police. That you betrayed your friends and stopped my carriage on the road only to warn me. Why? Why would you do this? Why not just do the job? Save your friends, your lover? Or, simply run away on your own?" Miriam glared at the man.

"I am fast at moving through the forest. I have worked the deck of a ship. But no pace I could set or wind I could ride would be faster than something like the Secret Police." The man nodded slowly.

"You think the Hallonel family can shield you."

"If you weren't powerful enough to do that I don't think they would have bothered sending someone like me to take the fall for them." The man smiled.

"You're a clever girl. You took a very big gamble here. There are a dozen other noble houses that would have just killed you on sight and been done with it."

"If you had, you might well be dead now," Miriam said.

"I assume that was you in the carriage." The man huffed a laugh.

"You are incredibly fortunate. Your story has checked out so far. We found the dead man you described, right where you described him. The rifle is indeed the model used by the Secret Police. And moreover the papers you took from him contained a special code, which I assume you did not know about. This is a code the Secret Police think we have not broken, but it verifies everything you have said. With all that being true, it would seem you are an incredibly brave woman who has saved my life.

And not deserving of chains in a dark cell." Over the next few days Miriam was pampered in luxury the likes of which she had never known. Silk sheets on goosedown mattresses. Food so tender she couldn't keep it on a fork. Clothes worth more than the entire hostel she had lived in had been. Now the questions were more polite but still insistent. Who were the men who set you up? Describe them! Just as politely, Miriam refused.

Her initial request had simply been to drop her at the edge of Marybel with some coin, but too much time had passed now. She needed to go further than that. The Hallonels seemed to find these answers just as vexing as they had when she gave them in the jail cell. One day the man in the blue coat, whose name was Namiah, she had learned, bustled into her room.

"Miss Callihan. I'm afraid you will get your wish. Pack quickly everything you might need to travel and join me in my carriage. I will take you out of this country entirely and on the way you will tell me about these men."

"What's happened?"

"The Chancellor of the High Council has been assassinated. He was our staunchest ally, and without his support our standing in the Parliament crumbles. This can only be the opening salvo of the Secret Police attempting to complete what they failed to do with you." Namiah bundled her down to the carriage, but not before she dressed herself out in sporting clothes, which was the closest the Hallonel women seemed to have to hiking gear.

As he closed the carriage door, he handed her a shiny black rifle and two bandoliers of ammunition. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"I know you already know how to use these," he said, and he failed to keep the panic out of his voice.

"We will need them before we rest." ✧✧✧ The dormitories the Crockern of Teilgcheárta provided its contract workers were slipshod work at best. Cold seeped in through cracks in the walls and the beds were little more than brass frames with copper springs. The Crockern didn't care about gender separation, so they just shoved everyone in the same rooms. Except for the Séarlait employees of course. They had different accommodations.

Which was probably nice for Róise, but made it difficult to coordinate, especially with the rigid rules the Crockern had about curfews. Cormac had managed to intimidate the other contractors enough to give Miriam, Sol and himself their own room - really just a partition with a curtain for a door.

"You think Róise will make it here tonight?" Sol asked.

"She's pretty sneaky. And small," added Cormac.

"I think she'll figure a way over."

"I did," Róise said, stepping out of nothing next to Miriam, who jumped two feet in the air.

"And I brought someone else." Eoin appeared and bowed, doffing his hat with a flourish.

"Wonderful to see you all again!" Miriam gaped, then ran forward to hug him.

"Eoin! How the hell are you here?" He seemed taken aback by her affection.

"Ah, well! I was explaining to our friend Róise here that after getting back to society that I took a job out here in the hopes that should you escape Cianán's Walk, we might run into each other. What wonderful luck that we did!" Cormac shrugged.

"Wasn't me." Róise explained her situation acting as Eoin's muscle and their goal to infiltrate the lower tunnels. Sol described Ferris Einion and his role as the Regent-Elect's assistant, which so far had just been organizing a lot of personnel paperwork. As for Cormac and Miriam…

"We broke a bunch of rocks," Cormac complained.

"All day. So many rocks. And the steel chainmail really starts to sting as the day goes on."

"Steel suits?" Eoin rubbed his beard.

"Fascinating! Let me ask; did you see any of the chainmail suits that would have been an appropriate size for a Crockern?"

"No. They were all for smaller races of Sidhe," Cormac said.

"Why? Do you think the Crockern don't need them for some reason?"

"Not at all. In the few days I've been watching from the overseer's office I've seen quite a few Crockern suffer iron burns. But, the only one I know of who could have crafted those suits was the Regent-Elect himself. He has a rather unique set of specializations - he's Earth Nature, Alloy Adept. He is an expert at making metallic alloys, like steel."

"You need an Adept class for that?" Miriam asked.

"In my world steel is everywhere. Of course, iron doesn't burn us, so I'd guess it's easier to make." Eoin's eyebrows raised.

"That is very interesting to hear! In the Tír however, experimentation with iron is… well, extremely dangerous. We have complex alloys with other metals, but as far as I know only someone like Ferris could possibly make steel - and only do so at great risk. Moreover, this lends a lot of weight to my theory - the chainmail isn't something they needed before. It came in with the adoption of outside contractors and Ferris Einion as the Regent-Elect."

"Cormac and I have tomorrow off," Miriam said.

"We can go into the town part of Teilgcheárta and see if we can learn anything."

"I will also continue to observe the Regent-Elect," Sol said.

"Assuming I do more than file paperwork, I may be able to find out what happened." Eoin turned to Sol.

"I'm sorry, I have been very rude. We have not yet met. Eoin Daithi." He held his hand out. Sol took his hand gingerly.

"We.. have actually met, in a sense. In a sense, you are my creator. I'm Sol." Eoin nodded.

"And in that same sense, I was your prisoner. I had indeed guessed your nature - I might have peeked a little with my analysis technique while we were still invisible. I also saw your battle with Ultán when you were a sea dragon. Quite a show that was!" He hesitated, perhaps uncertain if it were wise to press further, but it seemed as if he couldn't help himself.

"Would you… mind? If I were to inspect you a little? Ask some questions? You are absolutely fascinating!"

"Eoin!" Miriam scolded.

"Sol isn't one of your experiments. At least… not anymore. He's his own person. Our friend."

"It's ok, Miriam," Sol said.

"I actually would welcome that. I have a number of questions about myself I think you might be the best person to answer."

"Of course!" Eoin said, ecstatic.

"I absolutely cannot wait!" They spent the next hour or so recounting what they had found at Cianán's Walk and describing their encounter with King Cianán. Eoin seemed like he was about to burst as he restrained himself. It was clear he would have bombarded them with dozens of questions and kept them up all night had he allowed himself to run rampant. However, everyone was exhausted - it had been only that morning they had finished climbing down a mountain - and needed to sleep, so Eoin held back.

After bidding everyone else a good evening with a plan to meet again the following night, Eoin asked Miriam if they could talk in private. Miriam looked to find a corner somewhere but Eoin simply wrapped them in a bubble of mist that shut out all noise.

"Well, that's very handy," she said.

"Isn't it?" Eoin's grin started to slip.

"Miriam, I did not tell Róise everything about my job and my employer because I knew she would not take it well. I've decided, however, to tell you."

"Ok? I don't know what your employer would mean to me - all the people I know in this world are pretty much in this room." Eoin sighed.

"Miriam, my employer is the Eternal King Cianán. My job is to prepare you for the Third Ring and to help Róise fight her revolution. But once you enter the Third Ring, my job is to kill you.

"And Miriam… I am going to do my job."