So, Ree remembered Madboy’s acts. This was going to be interesting. “Put your heart at ease,” Pen advised him. “The man survived, and will recover. You may even get a chance to return his things.” As Ree continued to look distraught, he added, “The Temple, or at least my Order, will know it wasn’t you, and will speak on your behalf if it comes to that.”
Chio wrinkled her nose. “How do you even know that the man… never mind.”
Ree blew out his breath in a mixture of turmoil and relief. “It was all so confusing till just now. Like the worst fever dream ever.” His gaze caught again in wonder on Chio.
“I daresay,” said Pen. “Ah—why was Merin trying to kill you?”
“Trying to kill me again, rather.” Ree’s black brows drew down in anger. Wrenching aside from his worship, he glared in Merin’s direction. “He’d thrown me off our ship to drown.”
“Why?” asked Chio. She didn’t sound shocked.
“I’d spotted him stealing his master’s funds.” His voice heated. “More fool I, I’d thought I could talk him into putting the money back, and then I wouldn’t tell anyone, and all would be right again. That’s why I took him out on the deck alone in the night. First he tried to bribe me, as if I would—! Then he saw a more certain way to shut me up.”
“In the panic of a fight?” asked Pen.
“We did fight, but he knocked me woozy. He was cool enough to take my purse before he tipped me over the side rail, though.” His lips tightened in remembered outrage.
“How frugal.” Premeditation enough, I daresay. “A money belt was mentioned—did he take that too?”
“I kept that locked in a chest in my cabin. I don’t know if he found it later.” Ree looked suddenly even more worried. “Its key was in my purse. He knew that.”
“If he filched it, it should be discovered in his things when this incident is investigated,” Pen suggested. “I don’t know about your father, but if it’s lost I can promise you your mother won’t care.”
“You’ve met my mother?” Ree’s eyes sprang wide, and he gasped in new alarm. “Oh gods, they’ll have told my family I drowned!” He lurched, trying to rise. “I have to get home!”
Chio knelt to him and made soothing murmurs, patting his shoulder as if he were a restive horse till he settled back, still panting anxiously.
The disjointed tale laid bare Merin’s formerly baffling motives, though. Cold greed, and hot fear of being found out. Should fear be added to the list of great sins?
It can do as much harm, I’ll grant, said Des.
A stiff voice called from the wrecked doorway, “Hey! What’s going on in there?” Wary footsteps resolved into two men in the tabards of the state shipyard—its lords administrative kept a full roster of watchmen in the area, even or perhaps especially on holiday nights, so Pen was less taken aback than they were. One held up a lantern; the other had his short sword out and ready. “We heard screaming.”
Well, here’s trouble, said Des.
Not necessarily. It all depends on how I play it.
I yield this hand to you, Temple-man. By all means go be Learned Sir at them.
Chio shrank back beside Ree. Pen stepped forward, and said heartily, “Five gods be thanked you’re here!” The sword sank only slightly. Lantern-man put his other hand on the truncheon hung at his hip.
“We interrupted an attempted murder,” Pen went on, which didn’t seem to reassure them. Leaving aside the question of who had been trying to murder whom when Pen first had come in. Merin had certainly been bent on getting rid of witnesses, but had been blocked by the problem of the demon until the saint had done her deed—Pen had to give him credit for paying attention to his demon-lectures.
The whole growing, teetering pile of lies and crime tonight must have been cobbled together impulsively as Merin tried to work around the unexpected god-gift of Ree’s survival and demonic possession. Add rashness to his list of defects. If he’d managed to dispatch Ree, would he have gone on to Chio? Where would he hide the bodies? was hardly a problem in canal-laced Lodi. The picture made Pen sick. My Lord Bastard, you trim your timing far too fine.
For this audience, Pen decided to stick with more recent and clear events. “This man”—he pointed down at Merin—“just made an ill-advised attempt to stab me.” True enough. “Ah, permit me to introduce myself. I’m Learned Penric kin Jurald, court sorcerer to Archdivine Ogial.”
Ree’s eyes widened. So did the watchmen’s, though they maintained a properly suspicious stance. In Lodi, Ogial’s was a name to conjure with even if one wasn’t a sorcerer.
“And this is my colleague and saint of my Order, the Blessed Chio,” Pen went on, moving possessively to the girl’s side as she rose.
He’d been making headway up to that point, but received a look of narrow disbelief as they took in the details of the alleged saint: a rumpled young female who might have been a bedraggled festival-goer, prostitute, victim of attempted assault sexual or otherwise, or all of them at once. Chio raised her decided chin and cast them a credible look of disdain in turn. But she shifted closer to Penric.
Ree overcame intense self-consciousness of his stolen garments to offer, “This is my father’s warehouse. Ser Ripol Richelon. I’m his son Ree. This man is Aulie Merin, and he’s a thief. Among other things.”
And if the watchmen construed that the trio had interrupted a robbery in progress, so much the better. Still unable to rise, Merin clutched at his throat and leaked constricted rasps, like a bladder deflating.
“He’s bleeding,” Sword-man noted of Merin. “Why can’t he talk?” Not kneeling to help yet; he kept his eye on Penric.
“Sorcery,” said Penric, truthfully. “Which is also why he can’t walk right now. I did mention he just tried to knife me. You’ll have to fetch a couple of bearers. He’ll recover on his own in a while. Take him to whatever you use for a lockup, and keep him there till someone comes from the Temple or the city tomorrow to make it all official.” The legal part of this mess should now fall into the hands of authorities who were not Penric, so that was a bright spot. Though there would doubtless be testimony required of him later. In writing.
“When he gets his voice back,” said Ree bitterly, “I promise he’ll use it to lie.”
“Folks always do, to us,” said Lantern-man. His gimlet gaze around did not specify who, except that it was likely those who were talking. If the watchmen arrested the wrong parties by mistake, would Learned Iserne come to free them?
She’s a property lawyer, Pen.
I’ll bet she knows people.
I’ll bet she does too.
Pen moved this along in the hopes that assuming his conclusions would overbear further delays. “It’s very late, and I have yet to escort the victim to his home and the saint back to the chapterhouse of our Order.” And what Riesta would have to say about their dawn return Pen didn’t dare guess. “We also need a guard placed on the door till its owner can come arrange repairs. May we leave this in your capable hands?”
Good flattery there, said Des. Now follow up and bless the crap out of them.