A Labyrinth of Scions and Sorcery (The Risen Kingdoms) by Curtis Craddock

Author:Curtis Craddock [Craddock, Curtis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780765389626
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2019-01-22T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

Jean-Claude entered the navy yard that took up the best and most sheltered end of what passed for Rocher Royale’s harbor and asked for Lord Commodore Jerome. He found him in the officers’ drawing room at the naval chateau. Jerome had lost an eye and gained a head full of gray hair since the last time Jean-Claude had seen him, back when he’d been a mere capitaine. Though creeping up on fifty, he was still trim and fit, far more so than Jean-Claude.

Jerome and a half-dozen senior officers had crowded around a circular dice table, taking their turn at a game called Thrice.

“Lord Commodore, greetings,” Jean-Claude boomed.

Everyone at the table looked up. Jerome’s initial look of confusion bloomed into recognition and thence to delight. “Jean-Claude, saints be kind! How long has it been? Twenty years. Come come, join in … unless this is official business.” He looked more wary than thrilled at this prospect.

“Official, I’m afraid, and private.”

Jerome, being the senior man amongst his fellow officers, made a polite motion of dismissal, and all of his contemporaries gathered their money and decamped.

Jerome regarded Jean-Claude quizzically and said, “I heard you were involved in some kind of fracas down in Lowmarket, scores dead, and Prior Ingle at the Agonesium.”

Jean-Claude snorted. “Nothing to do with today’s visit.” Or so he fervently hoped. “What I have for you today is an opportunity.”

Jerome laughed. “Oh no. I know all about your opportunities. You’re always at your best when you’re selling a man his own boots. I think I shall decline the opportunity.”

“You haven’t even heard it yet.”

“Correct. It’s safer that way.”

“It comes down from Grand Leon.”

Jerome deflated. “So it’s a mandatory opportunity, is it?”

“I suppose you could refuse. It’d be fun to watch.”

Jerome grumbled, “Well, spit it out. It’s been too long since I’ve had the deck swabbed of your vomit.”

“Fortunately, this will not require either of us to set foot on a ship.”

Jerome looked at him skeptically. “What, no mysterious cargo to be transported?”

“I’m afraid not,” Jean-Claude said.

“No need to hijack one of our own ships? No suicidal run through an enemy fleet in the dead of night?”

Jean-Claude said, “If you’re looking for danger, I suppose you might get a paper cut.”

Jerome’s remaining eye narrowed. “What are you playing at?”

“I just need some information about fleet operations, particularly operations that may have begun sometime in the last two days. Something unofficial.”

Jerome rubbed his face. “Oh saints, this is some sort of corruption investigation, isn’t it? I’d rather have the suicidal run through an enemy fleet.”

“It was not suicidal; I’d paid off the lookouts.”

“You didn’t tell me that at the time,” Jerome growled.

“I wanted to keep you focused,” Jean-Claude said. “Has anyone started shifting a great deal of freight around in the last few days?”

“It’s a naval base,” Jerome said. “Shipping and unshipping supplies is what we do. Right now with all the birthday traffic we’ve got our hands full just keeping the picket ships and the outlying sentries up and running.” He paused, as if struck by a thought.

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