Sieged

Chapter Five

From the Dumps I make my way back to the sheriff's keep, to see if my men have found any better leads from sweeping the granary again for clues or questioning the soldiers that were on duty the night of the theft, the first time allowed to my absolute annoyance, although I do completely understand the soldiers have more important obligations. 

The yard is filled with people of all stripes and divisions, lining up to get inside, all waiting to report a crime. Sadly, we won't be investigating any of them until the theft has been dealt with. That is top priority, transcending even murder. 

Jac's in the entrance hall, a domain lit by stained-glass windows that have dulled with time and cobwebs. He's taking down people's reports one at a time. Though not imperative, being seen doing at least something helps to quell any possible growing descent.  More deceit. 

'While my family and I were in the bunker last night, someone broke into my home and stole my corset,' I hear a woman tell Jac, making him cough in embarrassment. 

'Can you tell me what it looked like?' Jac stutters, going red in the face. 

Appearing as if she engages in harlotry, for her cheeks are rouged with possibly wild cherries, the woman replies, 'It's a fucking corset. What do you think it looks like? I want it back. It's my only one. Go out there and find it this instant.' 

Poor man, I say to myself, and quickly leave him to it, hobbling up the hall's staircase and to my office at the back of the landing. 

Rolls of messages wait for me on my desk. One, I can clearly see, is from the king, a blood red seal marked with his insignia, a dagger and an ax. 

Sitting down, I open it and read: 

The Palace 

Dear Sheriff Harg, The Queen and I invite you to the celebration of the Princess' nineteenth day of birth on the Twelfth of Mirra. 

We hope you can attend this glorious anniversary. 

It's signed by the king. 

After five years of their people confined, waiting for the end, the palace still lacks sensibility. But at least celebrations are not as lavish as they once were. A day of birth before the siege would bring a parade down every street in the city. 

I'm not in the least bit interested in going but it's my duty. I must reaffirm my fealty to the king and this kingdom and my presence is the only manner of doing such. 

I begin writing my response, a frayed quill in my hand dripping with a mixture of soot and water, when there's a knock on my door. 

'Enter,' I say loudly. 

Aldo, Tready and Scar walk in and approach, all three looking eager to tell me something. 

'Find anything in the granary?' I ask. 'Please say, yes.' 

'Sorry, sir,' replies Tready, 'but there's something else.' 

'We talked to the soldiers who were on duty the day of the theft as you asked,' continues Scar. 

'Go on,' I say. 

'On the day, before the theft happened, half of the soldiers were ordered to the southern wall.' 

My eyes widen at the news before frustration creeps through me like poison slithering through my veins. 

'Do you think there's a connection?' Aldo asks with a look of bewilderment and disbelief. 

Surely not. Right? 

'I don't know,' I say. 'It could be that our thief just exploited the circumstance as we've seen many times.' I then suddenly shove my response to the palace off my desk in anger and slam the quill down. 'You'd think they, someone would tell us this right after the theft. We're just the ones investigating.'