Page 6 of A Trade of Blood

“M-my father speaks truth,” said Jalin. “The Armenta line has befallen a perversion of spirit. But they remain our greatest competitorin land. Even now, after one of their prime sons has done this crime, they fill the streets, ready to meet us in combat.”

“And why, I must ask, are your own forces here?” I asked.

“Because the Armentas obviously wish to evade justice!” said Burilis. “They will snatch the boy from the cells and take him deep into their lands, where no custodi—or Iudex—shall ever find him. And that we won’t permit!”

“But you won’t be first to draw steel against them, I’m sure?”

“No,” said Burilis stiffly. “We are gentry. We do not conduct ourselves so dishonorably.”

A muffled laugh echoed from the carriage. Burilis looked up, his brow knotting.

“Thank you for your testimony, sirs,” I said. “My investigator and I will now review the rest of the scene, and the evidence. If you please…”

I returned to the carriage door and put my hand upon the handle.

“Who is your superior?” demanded Burilis. “Why do they stay within the carriage? Are they injured?”

I paused, debated how to answer, then surrendered and opened the door.

There was another bout of muttering from the Burav drovers as I helped Ana climb out. This I understood perfectly, for Ana was in nearly all respects a figure both repellent and alarming, and today she was unusually so: though her thin, pale, stiletto-stab of a face was clad in her typical blindfold, this morning her lips bore a generous staining of both ink and food, and her snowy hair had grown so unkempt that it resembled a tangled bird’s nest. (An apt comparison, for I spied the odd leaf in her locks.) The only features that marked her as a Iudex investigator were the color of her dress—the dark blue of our order—and the handful of heralds pinned to her collar.

She emerged with a tight frown splashed across her face—she hated going out into the open, especially after a carriage ride—yet she replaced it with her usual pearly grin. As this was far more discomfiting to look at, I half wished she’d return to the frown.

I turned to the Burav father and son to introduce her, but Burilis spoke first: “Ah! It’s…Dolabra, yes? Is this she?”

Ana and I paused, surprised, and turned to him.

“Correct!” said Ana. “I am Immunis Ana Dolabra. Yet I would recall meeting a gentleman of your prestige. How might you know me, sir?”

“Through reputation,” Burilis said, puzzled. “You were involved, I believe, with the situation in Talagray some year or two ago. And there was a rather lurid account I heard at a dinner…something about a severed head found in a ditch, stopping up an irrigation drain?”

“Ah, yes,” said Ana, grinning. “I was peripherally involved in both, true. Though it was Din here who fished up the head.”

Both Buravs looked to me. I bleakly stared back.

“I understand that you are a skilled investigator,” said Burilis. “But I wonder why we need an investigator at all, given that the nature of my daughter’s killing is so clear.”

“Oh, but that, too, should be very clear, sir!” said Ana. “It is because my superiors believe there is a chance, however remote, that I can keep you and the Armentas from killing one another here in the town square.”

There was an awkward silence. Jalin glanced nervously at his father.

“I personally believe that the fastest way to bring peace and stability to this situation,” continued Ana smoothly, “is with the swift and merciless application of fair justice. Regardless, of course, of the victim or murderer’s social status—that’s the ‘fair’ bit of it, after all. If this crime is as obvious as all believe, then my judgment shall be speedy. If any attempt to interfere in the delivery of my judgment, then my punishment of them shall be the same! And I will tell the same to the Armentas, when I see them.”

“And why,” said Burilis, “would you need to see the Armentas at all?”

“We must interview the boy,” said Ana with a shrug. “If I did not grant the accused even a cursory questioning, it would be a severedereliction of duty. Should Castus prove as mad and stupid as you suggest, then it will be quick enough.”

“But…how will you review the death scene of my sister,” said Jalin, “if you are blindfolded?”

“Thoroughly,” said Ana curtly.

Jalin again glanced at his father, as if hoping he could make sense of this answer.

“Thisismy daughter, mind,” said Burilis softly. “Though you may claim to be a bloodless professional, she is not merely some…somecasualty,to me.”

“Every victim of every murder I have ever investigated has been someone’s child, sir,” said Ana. “Someone’s son, or daughter, or—in the innermost rings—anything otherwise. I do not grant them bias because of it. In fact, I would be a worse investigator if I did. Now—it will take me some time to proceed through the situation. While I do so, I would like you and your people to withdraw from the city, if you could.”

“What?” said Burilis, huffing slightly. “Why?”