Page 129 of Swordheart
“Your Holiness?” he asked.
“I require your assistance,” said Zale. “This is Mistress Halla, most recently of your town.”
The constable looked at Halla, and appeared even more confused. “Halla? I thought you were kidnapped!”
“Hello, Michael,” said Halla. “I wasn’t.”
“No thanks to those…persons… claiming to be her relatives by marriage,” said Zale. They somehow managed to makeclaiming to be a relativesound like a crime on par with bestiality. “Mistress Halla was forced to flee when they attempted to imprison her in her own bedroom. Can you imagine the depths of such depravity?”
Michael blinked several times and looked around, possibly hoping someone else was going to answer the question.
“Direct us to the offices of your town clerk,” ordered Zale. “I wish to settle this for my client as soon as possible, and see those imposters subjected to the full force of the law.”
Michael was clearly relieved that all that was required were directions, not any arrests. He waved toward the center of town. “And turn left at the butcher,” he said. “The three-story building with the angel on the weather vane.”
“Indeed.” Zale wrinkled their nose. “On, Brindle!”
The tilt of Brindle’s ears indicated that there would be words about this later.
“I could have told you where it was,” murmured Halla, as the cart rumbled past Michael, who was standing at attention.
“Undoubtedly,” said Zale. “But this way, the accusations have been made—loudly—and the constables will know your side of the story before we are even to the clerk.”
Halla looked at Sarkis helplessly. He took her hand and squeezed. “It will be all right,” he said. “Zale clearly knows what they are doing.”
Zale grinned like a shark that had eaten the cat, the canary, and several innocent bystanders.
“A servant of the Rat?” squeaked the clerk. Halla felt bad for him. He was a middle-aged man who had the job primarily because of the neatness of his penmanship and his meticulous recordkeeping. He did not deserve to be caught between Aunt Malva on one side and Zale’s inexorable courtesy on the other.
Speaking of which…
“What is the meaning of this?” snapped Aunt Malva, throwing open the door to the office. “What is this foolishness I am hearing about Halla being—Halla?”
Her voice went up half an octave as Halla turned to face her.
If she had been a better actress, Halla thought, Malva might have carried the day. If she had thrown her arms around Halla’s neck and professed how happy she was, perhaps.
Fortunately for me, she cannot pretend to hold me in anything but contempt.
“Hello, Aunt Malva,” said Halla grimly. “Surprised to see me?”
Alver came in behind her, saw Halla, saw Sarkis, saw Zale, and began to back out of the door as if he had wandered into the wrong building by mistake.
Malva drew herself up to her full height and pointed a trembling finger at Sarkis. “You! Constables! Arrest this man!”
This would have been a very impressive statement if there had been any constables in the room. Sarkis looked around, apparently saw none, then looked at the clerk and shrugged.
“What exactly are you arresting my guard for?” asked Zale.
Halla watched Sarkis’s lips twitch as he absorbed his new employment status.
“He kidnapped Halla!”
“As my client is standing right here, this appears to be some definition ofkidnapof which I am unaware,” said Zale. Halla had never previously paid much attention to the length of the priest’s nose, but the way that they looked down it at Malva was positively inspirational. “Mistress Halla, has this man kidnapped you?”
“Certainly not.”
“Perhaps it was some time ago. Try to remember?”
