The Way of Justice, page 1
The Way of Justice
Book 2 of Weaves of Empire
Tony Corden
Copyright © 2021 by Tony Corden
Tony Corden owns the content in this book and reserves all his legal rights of ownership. ‘The Way of Justice’ is published for your personal enjoyment (and, if he’s honest, so he can earn a living). He allows quotations in book reviews and social media posts. In fact, if they are positive reviews, he encourages their use (yay, free advertising). If you want to use it for some other purpose, then email him and get his written permission, if you don't then you may not reproduce or use it.
ISBN 978-1-922336-22-4 (E-book)
‘The Way of Justice’ is fiction, i.e., IT ISN’T REAL. Tony isn’t writing about real people and doesn’t intend in any way to point the finger at anyone. If there is a similarity, then it’s unintentional and a coincidence. If for some reason you think the good guys are based on you, then be encouraged, you are smart, kind and brave. If you think the bad guys are somehow based on you, they aren’t, but Tony suggests you need help. Seriously, see a counsellor or turn yourself into the police.
Tony designed the cover using an image from Shutterstock.com and Photoshop. Vellum was used to prepare the e-book.
Published by Tony Corden in 2021
You can find out more at www.tonycorden.com or write to Tony at tony@tonycorden.com.
For so many who are denied justice by those in authority, because of law, or simply by circumstance.
I believe that one day, justice will be delivered; it is a day I both look forward to as well as fear; it helps moderate my actions.
Acknowledgments
I struggle with both spelling and grammar. Even with the spelling and grammar checks turned on I keep making mistakes. Homonyms trip me up, as do commas. In particular I want to thank T and E for helping to edit this book. They are wonderful people who deserve all the credit when you can’t find an error. When you do, that is all me, not only for making it in the first place but also because I sometimes ignore what they suggest.
Contents
Part 4 - Trader
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Characters in Trader
Part 5 - Hound
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Characters in Hound
Part 6 - Priestess
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Characters in Priestess
Part 7 - Mage
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Characters in Mage
Appendix
Times
Money
Part 4 - Trader
Trader
Chapter 1
Mage Michael Firestorm was sitting in his favourite chair and staring at his cup of tea, which had gone cold for the third time; each time he’d realised this, he had sent a small working of aether into the cup to bring it to the right temperature. It was Quarter-Year, and while most people were celebrating, he was seriously contemplating breaking Tarlonin law. It was something he’d considered every morning for the last three hundred and ninety days. Just the eightday before, he’d received the same negative response to his twelfth official request for a leave of absence to visit his apprentice in Tar Elyia. He’d received monthly reports on her progress while she was at the academy. While he didn’t doubt their accuracy, he was certain they’d been written to obfuscate the truth more than anything else.
He’d expected the almost palpable animosity he’d read between the lines for the first five months and then nothing for a few months except the briefest of messages that she was sick before the final missive that she was a faulty and no longer his apprentice. Then nothing, not a thing. He’d not been too surprised when he’d heard nothing from Bess herself; he was reasonably certain her letters had been intercepted and were in some file somewhere in the ever-constipated bowels of the Academy of Magic.
What was missing from the picture was his recall and denunciation as a failure. That his apprentice had not even managed a breakthrough should have seen him cleaning the sewers of some backwater town under the supervision of a magically inept supervisor who’d just managed to squeeze out enough aether to be called a mage instead of a faulty. Instead, nothing had changed. He was still one of the more senior mages in the Whitecliffe Mage Hall with responsibility for the nearby provinces as a safeguard for the Empire. He collaborated with Mage Megan Windstorm, the daughter of the academy’s principal, and nobody had said a word about his connection with the failed apprentice.
He’d been so angry when she’d revealed herself, but in the eightdays she’d been with him, she’d progressed as well or better than he’d expected, and she’d shown the qualities anyone could ever want in a mage. He knew they’d limit her growth, and he could think of a dozen ways they could have stopped her from having a breakthrough, but the complete lack of fallout pointed to something else, and he needed to know; he had a right to know. Whatever they’d done, he now had a responsibility to find justice for Bess. Reaching for his tea, he took a sip then heated it again before taking half-a-sip and sitting pack to ponder the situation as his tea went cold a fourth time.
His ponderings were interrupted by someone knocking on the front door, followed by his housekeeper, Ellen, knocking on his study door. He wanted to ignore the interruption and had no desire to do anything associated with the Quarter-Year celebrations, but Ellen’s insistent second round of knocking forced him to acknowledge her, “Alright, damn it, come in Ellen and bring whoever it is with you, so I only need to yell once.”
The door opened, and Ellen entered as instructed but was preceded by Mage Megan. She said, “You’re in an unusually good mood this morning, Michael; what’s got you so cheery that you want to yell at me?”
Michael came to his feet nervously and said, “I don’t, well I did, but not at you specifically. If I’d known it was you, I would have been more polite or something. Oh, sit down. Ellen, please get Mage Megan something she likes so she can forget my threat of speaking in a louder than friendly voice. Megan, you weren’t so sarcastic when you were my student.”
“I was, just never to my favourite instructor. Now you’re a colleague; I can be as sarcastic as I want without even a moment of hesitation.”
“I was not your favourite. You liked that poser, Elias.”
“Excuse me, Michael, Elias isn’t a poser; he’s the best weapons mage the Empire’s ever seen. Besides, you were always answering Seldeen’s questions. She’d bat her eyes and say, ‘Mage Michael, what do you think of this little problem I discovered in blah blah blah?’ One bat of the eyes and off you went like a bee to honey. So, who was the total poser?”
“That’s unfair and also somewhat untrue. I would have enjoyed answering your questions, but you were always running off to hit or throw something. Me? A total poser? Was I really?”
“What, a poser? Well, you were a lot of the time. Always talking about your theories and how smart you were.”
“I never said that; what I meant is, was I your favourite instructor?”
“Your tone made everyone think that you thought you were the smartest person in the room. Yes, you were my favourite. You still are.”
Michael just stared at Megan for a minute, then said, “Oh, that’s what Bess meant. Well, um, I’m old.”
“Yes, it is what she meant. Females are often more intelligent than males when it deals with emotions. What has you being old have to do with how I feel?”
“Well, it doesn’t, but it means I shouldn’t hold those same feelings. You were my student, and besides, you are very pretty.”
“Do you, do you have those same feelings? I’m no longer your student. Pretty, I’m pretty; what does that have to do with it? I’m also smart and powerful, and lots of other things; what has my looks got to do with anything?”
“I will admit that I do have those feelings, and I know you are not my student, and I would repeat I said, ‘very pretty’, not just ‘pretty’; maybe beautiful is better. I’m not built like Elias the poser, and I’m not particularly good looking. I know you’re smart and powerful, and in those areas, I think I can at least hold my own.”
“You think I’m beautiful, why haven’t you told me? Do you think I’m so shallow I’d only look at your muscles? You are quite handsome when you aren’t scowling. What does, ‘at least hold my own’ mean?”
“I may not have told you, but I think it almost every time I see you. I didn’t think it last Two-day because you had that weird stuff around your eyes. I don’t think you’re shallow, and I don’t scowl—I think with intensity. It means just what it sounds like; we’re a close match in those areas.”
“Eyeliner is not weird, I wear it almost every day, but I’m pleased to know you don’t like that colour. That’s the colour that Seldeen, the flirt, always wore. You do scowl, and I think that in those areas I can at least hold my own with you; what do you think of that?”
“Um, I think I was wondering if you might have dinner with me tomorrow night at that new fancy place near the wharf?”
“Are you asking me out? Like on a date?”
“Um, I was. Is that tone of incredulity aimed at my impertinence or my action after so long being unenlightened?”
“I would love to have dinner with you. Having said that, we have several things to discuss, and I fear they may spoil your mood, so in advance, I will understand if you decide that you aren’t free tomorrow night.”
Michael waved Megan to a seat then said, “At least let us have some tea before spoiling my mood; otherwise, I suspect I’ll never drink this cup. Feel free to tell me again that you think I am occasionally handsome.”
Megan laughed, and they talked about everyday things until they’d finished their tea. When both cups were empty, Michael said, “OK, now for the information which will spoil my mood. What has happened?”
“The Severance was sighted heading toward port. Marin’s colours were seen.”
Michael showed the control that had earned him the first position in ranking as a student. He smiled and said, “That being the case, I suggest our date be held the first day after she’s gone. Until then, I’m going to be working from home. Tell her I’m sick.”
“You don’t get sick.”
“Then tell her that I’m contemplating the end of all things.”
“That’ll make her worried. If anyone could do that, it would be you. Besides, the last time you contemplated something that seriously the end of all things was actually your conclusion. That’s why you’re here, in this out of the way posting, right?”
“You, my ex-student and very lovely co-worker, are not supposed to know that. If you do, then we need to discuss why you still like me.”
“If something is true, then it is true. If it is false, then it is false. Calling something true when it’s false is foolish in the same way that calling something false when it’s true is. Just because I don’t like your conclusion doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”
“I didn’t like my conclusion either, but I sort of understand their reaction, my hypothesis took away from them everything they value, and I did it with a smile on my face because I was so full of myself; that didn’t help.”
“No, it didn’t, but they were foolish to not see beyond that. I mean, I was only a student at the time, and I saw past your overbearing arrogance and hubris.”
“This new, sarcastic you is going to take time to get used to.”
The two were still talking an hour later when there was another knock on the door. A few moments later, Ellen stepped into the study’s open doorway. When Michael acknowledged her, she said, “Excuse me, Mage Michael, there is a Senior Mage Marin Seafarer to see you.”
“Tell her I’m not in.”
Ellen turned and said, “I must apologise, Senior Mage Marin, but Mage Michael says he is not in.”
Marin stepped up next to Ellen and said, “So I see. If you would be so kind, I would like a cup of tea while I wait for Mage Michael Firestorm. Hello Megan, still here in this backwater, I see.”
Megan came to her feet and said, “Welcome, Senior Mage Marin. Your visit is unexpected.”
“For some, I suppose. I’ve known about it for weeks. Please stay while I talk with Michael; with you here, he is less likely to say something foolish.”
Megan shook her head and said, “I don’t think there is much that would stop that happening, Mage Marin. Even so, I will stay and hopefully bring some decorum to the discussion.”
Michael was still seated and said, “Marin, please come in. I was actually thinking of you this morning but was interrupted by Megan’s arrival.”
Marin sat down without an invitation in one of the chairs. She said, “Ah, what would make the individualistic self-important Mage Michael think on one of the emperor’s senior mages, now returned to her position as one of the Academy’s Representative’s at Large?”
“My apprentice, who I placed into your hands.”
“No longer an apprentice, she failed to have a breakthrough.”
“You ruined her chance.”
“I did.”
“You admit it.”
“I do. That is why I’ve come. I want to tell you what happened, what she did, what she is like and why the emperor would appreciate it if you sent no more enquiries to his mage advisor or the principal of the academy.”
“The emperor! Why would he even know, much less care what happened to Bess or a request for leave? Since when does he say ‘appreciate it’ instead of ‘don’t’?”
“Since Lady Bess Highland, Viscountess of the Shallow Moors, Baroness of Jagged Isle, and Holder of the Heptatic Star of Sacrifice, along with several other titles I am not at liberty to share, duelled two Heptatic senior apprentice mages in the Imperial Court before his throne, and saved the empire from an almost certain war with the Heptatic Empire. Even though she had no breakthrough, Bess brought change and honour to the academy in greater measure than any other, including you. Will you listen to my telling, Mage Michael Firestorm?”
Marin’s use of the official words to indicate an official testimony brought Michael’s planned barrage of questions to a halt. Instead, he sat back and in a calm voice said, “Yes, Senior Mage Marin Seafarer, I will listen to your telling.”
“Thank you. Now, by the time I’d reached the ship with Bess, I’d formulated my plan of attack to get back at you for the years I’d wasted in mentoring you. I made her work all through the night after testing her control and without letting her eat. From then on, I tested her every day and had the bosun whip her for every failure ….
“Seldeen asked her why she put herself through so much for my honour and that of the academy. Bess said that her master had given her into my care and that she’d promised to do her duty and that the words of Senior Mage Marin Seafarer would be understood as the words of her master, Mage Michael Firestorm. She said that your desire implied that the same duty and obedience would be given to the academy. Her obedience to the words and wishes of her master meant she must uphold my honour and the academy’s as she would that of her master ….
“I said I had regrets, and she told me that she was grateful she had you as a master and that she had no regrets. I left her to see what she’d helped forge, and I haven’t seen her since. With me, I have all the letters she sent to you, one every eightday. She is honest about everything, but there is not one word of self-pity. I have all the letters you sent her; she was not given one, and still, she remained faithful and true. I told her that the way I saw you dictated the way I saw her. Now that has changed. How I see her, now drives how I must see you. She saw something in you that made her willing to die for me, the academy and Tarlonin. I cannot hate whatever that is. So, I came to acknowledge a debt, to Bess and to you. She forgave me and said she would move on. This is my telling, Mage Michael Firestorm.”
Michael sat stunned, and Megan had tears running down her cheeks. After a few minutes, Michael nodded, then said, “I have heard your telling, Senior Mage Marin Seafarer. If my apprentice would hold my honour through all of that, I must do the same for her. If Bess chooses to forgive, then so must I. If she held no bitterness, then neither may I. Thank you for sharing Senior Mage Marin.”
