04 - Strange Arrivals

“Minister Lightwood?”
Mariah Lightwood looked up from her enormous desk. The Minister of Agriculture and Forests was comparatively a small elven woman, and the desk in her office in the Queen’s Palace exaggerated that even moreso.
Before her stood the Minister of the Navy, Geordin of Ironwood Isle. Though he lacked any naval experience, Geordin was a nigh-prescient quartermaster and a keen student of numbers. He stood at the doorway and looked to be wringing his hands with a troubled look on his face.
“Yes, Geordin, what is it?”
“Are you busy?”
“No, no,” Lightwood shook her head and closed a ledger. While familiar and proficient with numbers, her mind was preoccupied by the previous night’s rumours and the situation relayed to her by her husband regarding her daughter, Sorana.
“We are currently lacking a Minister for Fisheries and Ocean Trade,” Geordin explained as Lightwood slipped her silk lined cape over her shoulders and pulled her woolen hat from a peg next to the door. “And it appears an interesting situation has arrived upon our dockyards.”
“Interesting, you say,” Mariah Lightwood raised an eyebrow and stepped through the door and down the hall toward the stairs.
Geordin grimaced, “Yes… interesting in that way.”
“What is it? Pirates pretending to be traders again?”
“No, no, no,” Geordin said hurriedly, “the Navy would have dealt with that immediately. This is… new, and strange.”
Mariah started down the staircase and wrapped her knuckles on the bannister as she descended. “So, on with it, in what way?”
“Have you heard of the lands of Lustria, Minister?
Mariah inhaled quickly in thought, and exhaled more slowly. She shook her head as she came to the ground level of the Palace. “I cannot say I have, no.”
“Far, far side of the world, Minister,” he explained. “Realm of scaled folks, lizard and salamander people. Very dangerous, very mysterious.”
“A ship of lizard people, then?”
“Oh, Yhera’s Hope, no, no, no!” Geordin stepped ahead quickly and opened the great oaken doors for Mariah and followed her down the steps outside. “An explorer’s ship full of… goods from Lustria.”
Mariah nodded to the City Guards by the doors and down the steps. “Goods… I assume living specimens?”
Geordin nodded.
Mariah sighed. “They’re trying to get their cargo declared as livestock, aren’t they?”
Geordin nodded.
Mariah stopped walking and sighed again with a full slump of her shoulders. “Very well, please have my Secretary meet me there?”
“Already there, Minister,“ Geordin beamed with false brevity.
They walked across the Plaza of the Hallowed Fountain, it was oddly empty of life. Usually it was full, even with the rain.
“Mariah,” Geordin said, stopping in midstride.
It wasn’t normal for the Navy Minister to use first names. Usually, he was very formal in all interactions, especially amongst those who were technically his peers. Lightwood stopped and turned around, tilting her head in concern.
“Are you all right? These rumours I am hearing,they are troubling.”
Mariah looked away and tried banish the anxiety that the question invoked once more. “Yes and no, Geordin. Thank you for your concern.”
After a short but awkward pause, Geordin continued walking, this time matching Mariah step for step instead of trailing behind. He didn’t say anything, which said something loud and clear.
“I do not believe that my daugther has fallen in with the same nameless who have been targetted last night, Geordin.” Mariah Lightwood stared straight ahead and became thankful that the only people in the plaza were herself, Geordin and the Guardsman trailing about twenty paces back.
The Minister of the Navy remained silent and suppressed a grimace.
“She may be eccentric,” Lightwood relented, “Strange even, but none more than Brin or her father.”
“A different sort of odd, though,” Geordin said as he turned with her toward the central dockyards. “She could have gotten mixed up in the darker sorts, maybe not her fault.”
Lightwood shook her head quickly, but suppressed the urge to agree. Ever since the first signs of secrecy, she’s felt that pang of guilt only a mother can feel – and the guilt of being away even while being so close.
“I’m sorry, Minister,” Geordin said stiffly, “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
They walked in silence to the central dockyards. A growing crowd of dock workers and City Guard were milling about one of the southern piers. A grand halfling-style galleon was birthed at the end of the pier flying two flags: one from the city-state of Farhaven,a human colony on the far side of the world; and one from from Aphetto, the foetid necropolis ruled by a cabal of dark creatures who trade in blood as much as gold.
Mariah Lightwood pursed her lips and drew her cape closer to herself. Before she could start down the pier, she spotted what may be the real reason she was brought down here. An older fellow in fine Citadel clothing, but covered by a ragged Guardsman’s cloak.
“Ciaran,” she said and stepped over to him.
The old spy nodded as he leaned against a railing overlooking the northern pier, away from the commotion. “Apologies, Minister, I figured it would be best if we met under pretenses. May I walk with you, slowly?”
Mariah nodded and started down the steps. Geordin took Senior Inspector Fanehollow’s place against the railing and took out his tobacco pipe and pouch. The Guardsman with them pulled out an umbrella and held it over the Minister.
“What’s happening, Ciaran?” Mariah asked, “You have Geordin turned around on this.”
Fanehollow shrugged and offered his arm as they walked together. “He does that to himself more oft than not.”
“He does, yes.” Lightwood agreed, took his arm, drew closer and stepped slowly. “But answer my question.”
“Your daughter has absconded with the Sungrass Twins and your son, Brin.”
“What?” Utter confusion.
“We don’t believe Brin was a part of whatever is happening, but the twins have been reported meeting secretly with a strange woman with a Thessidian accent.”
“Thessidian?”
“Yes, notable only in its rarity.”
“It all seems so… ”
“Convoluted?” Fanehollow nodded. “Yes, we don’t believe it’s connected to the crackdown, but that the flight may be related to it.”
“They’re afraid of what happened, then?” Mariah stopped walking and looked directly into Ciaran’s eyes. “I told you this might happen, I told all of you that this would frighten folks who had nothing to do…”
“Yes,” he interrupted, “Yes you did, but it was not your decision to make, Siria made the decision. We serve on her advice, Mariah.”
Lightwood frowned.
Ciaran started them walking again, “We have an idea of where they’re headed next. There’s a known safehouse that the woman has been spotted near several times over the past few months. Operated by the Arcanum, though used for smuggling and moving people in.”
“So what then? Go in strong, crossbows and blades?” Mariah sneered quickly and suppressed any further emotion. “Typical. Those are…”
The Senior Inspector squeezed her hand, “I am as committed to her safety as much as you are, Mariah. You have my word, no one will be harmed, but we need to question the eastern woman.”
The two walked hand in hand silently for the rest of the long pier. When the crowd started to turn toward them, Lightwood squeezed back and nodded. “Very well, you bastard, do what needs to be done, but see to it personally.”
Ciaran nodded, released her hand, turned and stepped away.
Minister Lightwood sighed again and pushed the drama away. She dawned her old mask and persona, smiled and started into the afternoon’s new distraction.