Soldier at the Door(222)

Brisack shook his head slowly. “You’ve been looking for him, haven’t you? I’ve been intercepting your messages, you know. Two can play at that game. Gadiman’s so penitent and scared he’ll do anything I order. I think he’s still terrified you’re going to die and leave me in charge of the world. And then where will our dear Administrator of Loyalty be?”

Chairman Mal stared at his blankets, frustrated.

“But . . . I’ve been letting the messages go,” Brisack admitted. “If only to give you something to do. You’ve been sending very thorough descriptions of Dormin to every chief of enforcement and fort commander.”

Mal slumped back into his pillows which nearly swallowed him. “Yes. So. What of it?”

Brisack picked up his bag and opened it. “And I’ve been receiving the responses.”

Mal tried to sit up again. “You?!”

“Remember, I’m in control when you’re not,” Brisack said with such an overly happy grin that it committed a sneer.

“And?!”

Brisack rifled through the stack of pages he pulled out. “Actually, I’ve been watching for a letter from Mrs. Shin. The teacher scripts sent to Edge must have arrived shortly after your glorious failure, but she hasn’t sent a fifth letter. Either she’s too nervous about what happened at the fort or,” the doctor sighed sadly, “you’ve actually drowned the last swimming cat.”

“That was the whole point, Brisack,” Mal stewed, gazing longingly at the pile of papers Brisack held just out of his reach.

Brisack just shrugged. “Was rather looking forward to her response. Now, it’s all going to become dull again . . .”

Mal growled to draw him out of his blank stare at a distant nothing. “What about the messages? Where’s Dormin?!”

Brisack shook himself a little and focused on the stack in his hands, shuffling through it. “Trades is still looking, as is Orchards, no one in Sands or Quake, someone in Pools, but far too old, same in Midplain but far too young . . . ah, but then there’s this.”

He held up a message.

“Winds.”

Mal tried vainly to snatch the message from Brisack. “What does it say?!”

“Now, while I do recommend light exercise, this flailing of yours isn’t exactly what I had in mind—”

“Read it!”

Brisack cleared his throat with deliberate slowness. “Young man matching the description, about early to mid-twenties, was seen in Winds during the past year. Nephew of a rector’s wife—”

“Yes, yes! Sonoforen said Dormin was talking with a rector!” Mal was practically salivating. “Could be pretending to be a relative!”

“Nephew of a rector and his wife,” Brisack intoned, “The young man was working as a field laborer and helping to repair the washed out bridge along the Winds River. But, as of a few weeks now, all three of them have been missing. They’re looking again to appease you, but there’s simply no evidence.”

Mal’s face drooped. “Missing?!”

Brisack nodded as he continued to summarize the message. “No sign of forced entry or mischief at the house. Chief of enforcement initially surmised that the nephew had taken his aunt and uncle to see the work he was doing on the bridge. There was a minor flash flood in the area after a heavy rainstorm, and perhaps they fell in and were washed away. Their bodies would be out to sea by now.”

Mal fell back into his pillows again. “No, no, tell them to keep searching! Maybe they just went on holiday or something!”

Brisack shook his head as he scanned the message. “They had an extensive garden and many chickens. Whenever they went somewhere even only for a day, they asked a neighbor to keep an eye on their property. The neighbors said no one spoke to them. The three of them just vanished.”

“No, no . . . there must be something more,” Mal said in a stunning display of desperation.

Brisack sighed. “One of the neighbors did, however, mention that late at night he thought he saw someone entering the house before they were discovered missing. The neighbor was getting in a cat and wasn’t sure of what he’d seen. Then again, there were always people going to the rector’s at odd hours of the night, trying to get advice without anyone knowing. But they have no further leads.”

“So nothing?” Mal whimpered.

Brisack shook his head as he folded the message. “Just assume Dormin is gone, Nicko. I never met the boy, but from what I’ve heard about him, he wasn’t as throne hungry as his brother. It is peculiar, though,” he said, unfolding the message again. “Almost reminds me of . . .”