14

Part of Garric's mind wanted to draw his sword and cut through the men facing him behind the lantern. That feeling didn't come only from the part of him where King Carus strode in bloody majesty across remembered battlefields.

But the men were a squad of the City Patrols investigating lights and noises from a tomb in a good section of Erdin. They had every right to be here; but then, so did Garric and Tenoctris.

"Good evening, officers!" Garric said. "We're servants of Mistress Liane bos-Benliman. She sent us to inspect the family tomb for her."

"I want you to arrest them!" said a pudgy man behind the row of patrolmen. "They're plotting to break into my house!"

There were six City Patrolmen. They wore brass helmets and tabards bearing the Sandrakkan horsehead quartered with the wavy symbol of Erdin. Two patrolmen had catchpoles, forked shafts with a spring closure that could be thrust over a suspect's neck or limbs from a safe distance. The others carried cudgels, and all of them wore short swords.

"This property is owned by the Benlimans," Tenoctris said imperiously, speaking as a noble to commoners. That's just what she was, of course, though her family estate had probably vanished a thousand years before. "My master retained it when he sold the remainder of his Sandrakkan properties. Who is this person who disputes his title?"

The officer leading the patrol wore a plume of white feathers in the tube on the right side of his helmet brim. He looked at the pudgy man standing behind him and said, "Is that true, sir?"

"Here's the key to the enclosure," Garric said, reaching into the wallet hanging from his belt to find it. The key had been lying on the floor of the tomb; Liane must have lost it when the corpse carried her away.

"Well, I..." the man said. He was obviously the owner of the house and grounds. His wealth was sufficient to get vagrants jailed, even if they weren't trespassing on his own property; but demanding the arrest of agents of another nobleman while on their master's proper business—that was another matter.

"If you'd care to look inside, officers," Tenoctris said in a tone of tolerant superiority, "I believe you'll find matters in order. No stash of housebreaking implements or loot, I assure you."

"We're staying at the Ram and Ewe near the river," Garric said. "We can be found there—though Mistress Liane may send us back to her property with further instructions, of course."

"Well..." the officer said.

"Corporal?" said a patrolman with one of the catchpoles. "I think he's the one in the picture."

The officer reached into his scrip and brought out a tablet made of two thin wooden plates. "Bring a light!" he ordered peevishly.

Two patrolman held lanterns with glass lenses that could be shuttered to hide the light. They aimed their beams to illuminate the faces painted on the tablet's inner leaves.

Even from Garric's angle, the faces were recognizable as him and Liane.

"By the Shepherd!" the corporal said. "You're right, Challis, it is him."

"Watch him!" a patrolman shouted.

Garric spread his empty hands. He might be able to break and run, but Tenoctris couldn't escape that way. He wasn't afraid to fight, but these were human beings, not liches to be killed without compunction.

There were six patrolmen and the homeowner, and he'd have to kill them all. He wasn't willing to do that.

A catchpole thrust for Garric's neck. He batted it away. "I'm going to unbuckle my sword," he said in a loud voice. "Treat it well or it'll be the worse for you!"

He didn't know whether that was Garric speaking or the king shining through Garric's flesh at this crisis. Why were the City Patrols looking for him and Liane?

"Your name's Garric?" the corporal asked.

"Yes," he said. "What's all this about?"

"Well, Garric," the corporal said, "we're to behave with courtesy with you when we take you in, and we'll do just that. But we are going to take you in. Got that clear?"

Garric wrapped the sword belt around the scabbard and handed it toward the corporal. Challis, a young, sharp-looking man, took the weapon instead.

"I understand," Garric said.

"How about her, corporal?" a patrolman asked. "She's not the right one, not by forty years."

"Right," said the corporal, putting the tablet away in his scrip again. "But we'll take her in too. It's a lot easier to explain why you arrested somebody than to explain why you didn't."

He looked Garric up and down. "You'll come back to the Patrol hut with us and I'll send a runner to the people who want you. Then it's out of my hands."

"Did the Earl of Sandrakkan order Master Garric's arrest?" Tenoctris demanded.

The corporal shrugged. "I don't know who ordered it," he said. "All I know is that I did my job. But the runner..."

He looked at Tenoctris.

"The runner goes to a private house on Palace Square."

Lord of the Isles
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