Chapter 7 Keelan
Anxious whispers rippled through the crowd as Ceryl Burner rose from his seat and approached the podium.
Beside the lectern were four leather chairs before a polished table, two of which were already occupied by the Arch Mage and Master of Arms.
It was rare for the Triad to gather publicly, but this night held special weight in the hearts of all Melucians.
Merchants’ Guildmaster Burner placed one hand on the podium, activating the magic that would cast his voice to the furthest corners of the massive hall. The air shimmered briefly, then settled. With his other hand, he clinked a spoon against a crystal glass to quiet the crowd.
“Meetings of the Triad can become—how shall I say it—a bit lively? It is often said that we could take most any issue requiring a simple vote and wind up arguing over the meaning of ‘yay’ or ‘nay’ for hours.”
Chuckles rippled through the crowd as Burner paused and smiled broadly.
“And yet, on this occasion, we speak with one voice.”
The crowd stilled. “As has been our tradition for hundreds of years, we gather tonight to honor one man or woman who has contributed uniquely to our nation, a person who upholds our cherished values of dignity, respect, and duty in both word and deed. Custom dictates the Mages, Armsmen,
and Merchants each nominate a candidate for this honor. These nominees are outstanding examples of the Melucian ideal—and we honor each of them—but in the final tally, the Triad’s vote was unanimous.”
Burner reached beneath the podium and raised a head-sized replica of the Phoenix cast in polished silver. It shimmered with azure light, a touch of the Mages swirling across the surface of their vaunted symbol of magic.
“The recipient of the Triad’s Own this year is . . . Guardsman-Lieutenant Keelan Rea.”
The crowd shot to their feet and erupted, turning as one toward a table in the room’s center where I sat.
I stood and wove through the sea of tables, shaking hands and grasping forearms. Nobles and wealthy businessmen and -women showered me with smiles and praise. I’d been seated near the front; still, it took a few long moments for me to reach the high table.
I’d never wanted to crawl beneath a tablecloth so badly in my life.
Applause lingered long after I accepted the trophy from the Guildmaster.
Burner led me to one of the leather chairs, where I was greeted with yet more smiles and handshakes by Arch Mage Quin, a thin man with a shiny pate, and Master of Arms Vre, whose stout chest and broad shoulders resembled an ox more than a man.
Burner motioned for me to sit, then moved toward the last empty chair.
“Let’s learn more about Keelan and what led him to receive tonight’s honor,” Burner said as he took his seat and motioned toward me. “Lieutenant Rea, why don’t you tell us a little about how you came to wear that uniform?”
My eyes darted from Burner to the crowd.
I swallowed a lump, then spoke in a voice nearly as stiff as my collar.
“Well, I lost my parents when I was little. I must have only been five or six at the time. One of the Mages took my brother and me in, so we grew up surrounded by men in robes.”
A smattering of awws rose from the crowd. My jaw flexed as I paused.
Chasing suspects or fighting bandits was one thing. I controlled fear in those situations, commanded it. I was used to hard work and doing what needed to be done out of the public eye, but speaking before the nation’s elite terrified me in ways a sword fight never would.
Sweat beaded across my brow.
Burner bit back a gasp as I reached up to wipe it with my sleeve. Apparently, that was poor form.
Brow dry for the moment, I continued, “Sergeant Sted—he was a Guardsman assigned to the Mages’ Compound for security—he took me under his wing, taught me how to hold a sword, how to be a man, really. He was one of the best men I’ve ever known. He made me want to become a Guardsman when I grew up,
to be like him.”
“You said the Mages took you and your brother in. Where is your brother now?”
I faltered, and my eyes drifted to the table as I spoke. “He’s at the Ranger Academy out west, near the border.”
“Brothers serving their country. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Burned ignored my obvious discomfort, glancing toward the crowd, who had already begun applauding.
“And you were recently promoted to Lieutenant? I believe the case that won you that chevron is also the one underlying your award tonight. Tell us about it.”
“Well, I hope getting promoted was about a lot more than any one case,” I said. “But I’ll tell you what I can. You’re referring to the Potter case?”
Burner nodded. “Yes. Arn Potter was a prominent member of my guild. He likely would’ve been sitting in this chair next year, had he not been lost. Every Merchant in this city is in your debt for bringing justice to his family.”
“Thank you, Guildmaster, but I had a team working with me. It took all of us to solve that one.”
I fought another wave of heat as my face colored again.
“Mr. Potter was found in his bedchamber. There were no signs of forced entry. None of the furniture was disturbed. Even the bedcovers appeared unruffled despite Mr. Potter’s position and untimely demise. He’d been stabbed more than twenty times.
The murderer had smoothed the comforter and even tucked it neatly beneath Mr. Potter’s chin. Without getting into more gruesome details, we determined he’d been murdered while he slept.”
Whispers ran through the crowd as I ordered my thoughts.
“We suspected his killer had been in his home many times and knew the layout.”
Arch Mage Quin leaned forward. “Mr. Potter hosted a large reception in his home earlier that evening, didn’t he?”
I nodded. “There were thirty-two attendees, five of whom were relatives. The rest belonged to the Merchants’ Guild. We had to assume any one of those might have been our killer.”
“That made for a long suspect list,” Burner said.
“Longest I’ve faced,” I agreed. “We spoke with each attendee privately. My Gift offers a significant advantage in interviews.”
“Your Gift?” Burner asked innocently.
I glanced at the Arch Mage, who nodded once.
“None of us like talking about our Gifts in public, but I’m guessing mine is the worst-kept secret in Saltstone.”
The crowd chuckled in unison. The Gazette had broken with custom and printed controversial stories about my Gift.
Outraged citizens had called for the paper to pay restitution all while snatching up the next edition featuring my image as soon as it hit the streets.
“The guys call me the human lie detector. I can sense falsehood. Unfortunately, with a room full of Merchants, it appeared everyone had some private agenda or secret to hide.”
“You have no idea how true that statement is,” Master Vre said, earning a sharp glance from Burner and a round of laughter from the crowd.
Burner seized control again. “Go on, Keelan. Tell us how your team solved this one.”
“Well, as with any case, we narrowed our suspect list to those who had the motive, means, and opportunity to commit the crime. Some had one or the other, but only a handful had all three.”
“What ultimately broke the case?” Master Vre asked with his usual impatience.
“Upon thorough examination by a local Healer, it was determined that Mr. Potter wasn’t killed with a sword or dagger, but a knife whose blade was smaller and thinner than normal weaponry. There were tears across—”
“I think we can skip the gory bits,” Burner interrupted.
I nodded. “Sorry. I guess that isn’t exactly fancy dinner conversation.”
Another chuckle broke from the attendees.
Burner leaned forward in his chair. “You said you worked with a local Healer?”
“Yes, many here will know her. Her name is Tiana Hurd. She runs the infirmary across from the Guard Compound.” I scanned the crowd, then pointed when I found Tiana sitting in the third row of tables. “There she is.”
“Tiana, please stand,” Burner said, and the crowd applauded appreciatively.
A slender woman in her early twenties wearing a gown the color of a cloudless sky rose from her seat.
Bright brown eyes scanned the room, as chestnut curls fell past her shoulders.
I gave her a warm smile even as pinpricks of nervous energy tickled my skin when our eyes met above the guests’ heads.
I cleared my throat and resumed my tale. “At Tiana’s suggestion, we searched the kitchen in Mr. Potter’s manse and found knives whose serrated edges and slim blades matched the wounds on the victim. That led us to search the staff’s chambers and question them again.”
“And a kitchen maid confessed?” Burner asked.
“It took some time, but yes. We had previously questioned each member of the staff, but none were on our core suspect list. When we interviewed each of them for a third time, this time with one of the dinner knives sitting out on the table, she finally broke. It was the sight of the murder weapon.
She couldn’t stand it.”
“If you can tell when someone lies, why didn’t you just ask each suspect if they killed Mr. Potter?” Quin asked.
“There were five of us on the team. If you add the party attendees with Mr. Potter’s family and household staff, that’s more than seventy suspects—and that doesn’t include individuals who didn’t attend the party but had some grudge or complaint against the victim. With a list that long,
we were forced to divide up the interviews. I wasn’t part of the first two conversations with the kitchen maid.”
“Did you find out why she killed him?” Quin inquired.
I nodded. “Murders usually stem from one of three motives: money, love, or revenge.”
Quin cocked his head. “Love? Why would someone murder for love?”
“Because they didn’t get what they hoped for. In this case, the maid was in love with Mr. Potter and begged him to leave his wife. Notes we found in her chamber evidenced an affair between the two spanning several years. In some of the latter notes,
she suggested they leave Saltstone and start a new life together elsewhere.”
“That wasn’t going to happen,” Burner said.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so either. As you said, Mr. Potter was next in line to join the Triad as Merchants’ Guildmaster. His wife is a prominent Merchant, wealthy in her own right. There was no indication he was willing to part with his well-established life.
The maid admitted as much in her questioning.”
Arch Mage Quin steepled his fingers, then sat back.
“Lieutenant, your work on that case was impressive, and we are all grateful for the justice that was served, but please know that this award represents far more than your solving one crime. As you said, you have provided a critical component frequently,
ensuring the safety of our people in ways they may never know. From one of those who understands fully what you have given—and continue to give—thank you.”
My head ducked beneath the praise. As applause swelled into a standing ovation, and the leaders of the nation rose around me, I struggled to lift my gaze.
It was all so overwhelming.
Burner stepped to stand behind the lectern again. “Keelan, our city, indeed our nation, owes you a great debt. Your service to the Guard has been exemplary, and we offer our sincerest thanks for your diligence and sacrifice.”
The Guildmaster waited for applause to quiet before continuing. “Noble gentlemen and ladies, Merchants and guests, on behalf of the Triad, thank you for attending this year’s gala. Please join us in giving all our honorees one last round of applause. Have a wonderful night, everyone.”