38. The Red Herring

The man continued watching us… I in particular. His gaze was unwavering, unmoving. Almost as if he didn’t even need to breathe at all as he stared straight into my soul.

His head then suddenly snapped to Vilger.

“It’s good to see you, as always, Vilger.” He declared in a weighted tone.

Vilger responded with a grunt.

“The pleasure doesn’t go both ways, ‘Oh Lord Commander’. You’ve gone over the line this time!”

“Oh, have I now?” the man responded, gliding toward Vilger with an unnatural upright stillness. 

As if his legs moved, but the rest of him refused to acknowledge gravity.

Vilger seemed to flinch as the man’s face stopped mere inches away from his. His bravado from earlier all but vanished.

“This isn’t within your jurisdiction.” Vilger spat at the unflinching man.

“Is it? Or perhaps have your eyes grown dim with age? I believe that you’ll find that the details of our operation relevant to your office were reported in full.”

“That’s an overreach of your auth...”

“...And your presence here isn’t?” he cut off Vilger.

As his head once more snapped toward me, almost as if he was directing his question to me.

He looked back at Vilger.

“Don’t sweat so much, Vilger. It’s not good for a man your age.” He said in an even tone.

He walked past the Marquess as if he were nothing.

“Either way, you’ll find that there was no such breach. Although it is regrettable, it has come to this…” The man said as he stopped in front of Feldor, who still held Silika in his arms. 

Even the stoic Bishop looked destabilised in the man’s presence. 

The stranger had taken control of the room in mere seconds. Somehow, even I knew this, despite knowing nothing about him. His existence unnerved me to no end.

The man turned to the knight who had been bandaging his partner’s bleeding hand until a moment ago.

“I assume this is the girl from the reports?” The strange man asked.

“Yes, my lord! My informant confirms that…”

“Your informant?” The man responded in a threatening manner.

Almost immediately, he appeared inches away from the knight, whose expression turned from relief to fear.

“You don’t have informants. You have... acquaintances. I have informants. And you will remember that or there won’t be a next time.” The man said calmly. 

There was no threat in his voice, only certainty.

The knight bit his lip as he tried to keep a straight face and not let the fear he was experiencing show on his face.

“Yes, Sir.” He managed to reply in a strangled voice.

The man’s eyes once more shifted toward me. He examined me. Evaluated me. I suddenly noticed that his neck had never craned or tilted once. Staring at everything at an unwavering height.

“Baron Marshall Ashbrook. A pleasure. I was informed of your intention to take ward. My apologies for these… Inconvenient circumstances.”

The blood froze in my veins. 

He knew who I was? Beyond that, he even knew why I was here?!

Only members of my household could have known. Were there traitors within my own home…?

But something struck me. 

If he knew I wanted to take a ward, was it too far-fetched to say he would know whom? Was that the extent of his knowledge, or an intentional omission? Most importantly, if this operation landed on Vilger’s desk,  that would have been days before I ever met Silika… Wouldn't it?

“Can I assume this whole ordeal is an unfortunate misunderstanding, then?” I asked, my voice cracking on the last word.

He didn’t respond immediately. He continued staring at me for a moment that felt like an eternity. He finally broke eye contact and turned his back on me.

“Not quite.”

He approached a prison cell off to the side with slow, measured steps.

“See this specimen?” He said as he stared within.

I craned my neck and looked into the cell and realised a motionless man lay on the ground, his face a mess of red and purple… He’d obviously been beaten… If not tortured.

I didn’t recognise him, though, and neither did Vilger from the looks of it.

A voice piped up from behind us.

“Mister Calvian?!” Delian exclaimed in a panicked voice.

I turned to him.

“You know this man?” I asked Delian, surprised.

He seemed to regret his outburst now that all eyes were focused on him, but he nodded.

“Mr Calvian is a merchant down Woodrick Mews. I often shop at his store… He’s also been a frequent donor to the orphanage in the past.”

Despite the fear, he turned to the strange man with an almost defiant expression.

“He’s a kind and generous man who doesn’t belong in a place like this.”

This ‘Calvian’ character must mean a great deal to the orphanage… I should look into it at a later time.

Paranam was unshaken by Delian’s declaration and continued smiling, looking at everyone and no one at the same time.

“Astute observations, Director Delian Blaine.” The man called out Delian’s full name, noticeably shaking the young man, but he didn’t dwell on it and continued speaking.

“Or at least, that is if that was truly who this man was.”

He turned toward me once more. His eyes once more pierced through whatever countenance I still had. 

Why was he so focused on me?

“I present to you Ai’Vec Neiman. A distinguished, well, not so much anymore, spy for the Moreti Empire. Forged himself an identity as an… Exotic goods merchant. A convenient alibi for his impromptu disappearances.”

He turned his eyes to Delian.

“Your orphanage, amongst a few other organisations, provided a perfect hub for networking with the more affluent members of our society. After all…”

His eyes shifted to me once more.

“...Only those with means have time to waste on charity.”

I felt my blood boil at the jab, but before I could say anything, his eyes shifted to Vilger.

“Ai’Vec left a paper trail. A red herring, in all likelihood, BUT one can never be too safe. It mentioned a child, well, children to be more accurate, he used to gather and relay information.”

He then turned toward the table and picked up the yellow satchel that lay on it.

“Look at this bag. Great quality. Deerskin. Double layered. What a kind and considerate gift to give an orphan...”

He dropped the bag.

“A total of 17 of theirs were made at an unknown location outside the kingdom and distributed to children across the city. Allegedly, he gave ‘some’ children a modified bag with a secret pocket to smuggle information and messages across the city, but, as we now know, there are no such pockets.”

He sighed, but his expression didn’t match his tone. As though he were only mimicking what a human should sound like.

“It’s simple, really. He purposely left falsified reports in his home, so that if any of the children were to be taken in, he would have known he was made…”

He turned to the whimpering soldier who was still holding her injured hand.

“... But, we nabbed him first. Two days ago, as he tried to flee the city. I know what you’ll say: ‘Then why did you take the child?’”

He turned back to us.

“Well, let’s call it a ‘misunderstanding’.”

“A misunderstanding?!” I roared, unable to contain the blood boiling in my veins.

This seemed to have been exactly what he had expected as his smile grew wider, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth.

“Quite so. By all means, I had planned to cancel this entire operation, and I did. Mostly…”

He chuckled.

“You might not believe it, but it seems that I was able to catch all but one of my orders for interrogations from being sent out. You see, I was about to do so, but I was momentarily distracted by some interesting reports regarding that very same child…” He said as he looked straight at me once more.

What was his deal? It almost felt like… No, impossible…. Was it to get to me? But why…?

“Well, be it as it may, I do apologise for my knights… Poor handling of the girl. Do be sure they will be summarily punished for their actions.”

Everything about the way he spoke was suspicious. The way he glazed over facts and the way he paced his explanations… And the fact that he never said Silika’s name, despite clamouring those of everyone else’s.

A voluntary omission? Or perhaps something more…

I looked at him, wanting to ask him a hundred questions for which I knew he would never give me a straight answer.

“So, can we leave?” I simply asked the man. 

Wanting to put as much distance between him and Silika.

His lips settled back into a stiff smile as he moved out of our path to the door, pointing to it with an open arm.

Feldor, having composed himself, was the first to leave the room with Silika in his arms. 

Delian picked up the remains of the torn bunny plush on the table, obviously discouraged by its state, and left as he held a terrified Coleen by the hand.

Vilger gave the man a long, meaningful glare, but didn’t say anything more as he left the room.

After having let everyone else out, I was about to follow suit, but the man stopped me with the back of his hand.

His face dropped, and he looked at me seriously.

“I would suggest that you make haste, Lord Ashbrook. Who knows what else might come between you and your new ‘precious daughter’?” He said in a hushed voice. Uncharacteristic of his earlier meaningful speech.

I looked into the snake’s eyes, but he had already reverted to his stiff expression. 

I understood at that moment that this man not only knew everything. About me, about Silika, about my Lilica, probably even about my ailing father… And probably more than I could ever imagine. 

But he also knew nothing. Nothing about the person I was underneath it all. My heart was not a dark cabinet of plots and trickery. It was a beating living heart that knew love, hate, joy and fear…

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I responded sharply.

He squinted his eyes… Almost as if to make his smile look more genuine. 

Just as I was about to leave for good, he called out to me once more.

“Oh, forgive me. I forget myself sometimes! I failed to introduce myself.” He said in a whistling tone.

I turned to him. He stood there, hand extended with a frozen expression. 

I reluctantly took his hand.

“Aarvis Paranam. A pleasure, Lord Ashbrook.” He said plainly.

My eyes twitched.

I knew the name.

In fact, everyone in the kingdom knew this name.

It belonged to the Hero of the Boiling Sea. 

The general of Khaln Fortress.

Aarvis Paranam.

Marquess of Heed.

Brother to the Queen.

Eternal servant of the king.

And now it seems... The peeping eye of the kingdom.