has two. I'm the second one."
"She's only nineteen."
"We know," Ry admitted. "Tory and the other one
are recently mated to Reah."
"So, she wasn't just any conscript when she landed
here," Hish said, cutting into his meat with difficulty.
"Well, she was at the time. Worked in a kitchen for the
Alliance. It wasn't until she got back that the ASD latched onto her." Ry
was about to give up on his dinner.
"So, she has us to thank for all that battle experience?"
Max grinned.
"I believe that's true," Tory agreed.
"We have a cook where we're going—we'll stay in the
largest village. You'll get a look at the drakus seed fields while you're there.
The villagers the High Commander relocated spend most of their days pumping
water for the plants." Bel gave Tory and Ry the information they needed. Ry
had tiny cameras affixed to his clothing—nobody from Mandil would even think to
look for them—the technology was beyond them. The Director and Vice-Director
would be getting live feeds from Ry if he wore either of the two vests he'd
brought with him.
"Who guards the fields at night?" Tory asked,
sipping the wine he'd poured; they'd found a few bottles left behind after the
evacuation.
"Pell is there—he sleeps during the day and guards at
night. You'll take his place so he can go home to his wife," Bel nodded at
Tory. "Mind you, I don't want any of the attacking wizards killed—we want
to bring them in with us. We may need their help when the time comes. I figure
the High Commander will wait until the harvest is done before making his
move."
"What about the army?" Ry asked.
"Right now, the Station Commander is still loyal to the
High Commander. Evlif Gorth is a reasonable man, though. I'm hoping that when the
final push comes, he'll send his troops in the right direction. The High
Commander hasn't done much to make Station Commander Gorth respect him." Bel
shoved his plate away with a sigh and sipped his wine.
* * *
"She's no family of mine—I received the papers making
that a fact not too long ago." Addah Desh was rude to Vice-Director
Schaff.
"Then ponder this—let her identity slip, even in the
slightest way possible, and you and I will have a discussion with the local
magistrate over child labor law violations within your restaurants."
"What?" Addah Desh almost came out of his chair. His
face was turning slightly purple, too. Lendill wondered if he might be forced
to call Emergency Medical for assistance.
"I have all the records, Master Cook Desh. Your son did
not pay her properly and worked her long hours from the age of eight. No child
is to be employed in a service industry establishment that exists to bring in
income—not under the age of fourteen. At age fourteen, that child is only
allowed to work a maximum of three clicks per day. Your granddaughter was
forced to work for six to eight clicks per night, depending upon which night. The
money you sent to your son to pay her was funneled directly into his accounts
and not paid out. Not in the proper manner, anyway. He may have slipped her a few
credits now and then, but it would not have been sufficient. All his expenses
are accounted for. No salary was paid to Reah Desh. She may as well have been a
slave—he treated her as one. And beat her, as you know, whenever he was angry. A
trait gained from his mother, don't you think?" Lendill toyed with the
comp-vid under his hand—all the pertinent records were there if Addah Desh
wished to see them. "Your granddaughter—your flesh and blood—and you
allowed this to happen. What do you think will happen to your business if this is
leaked to the media?"
"You're saying that Edan raped her mother—at Marzi's
urging?"
"Yes, I have that confession on a vid chip. They were
quite eager to blame the other, in an effort to reduce their own charges. And
then Marzi paid the physician to slip a blood thinner into your youngest wife's
medication—it appears that Raedah learned that the baby might have been Edan's
and
"She's only nineteen."
"We know," Ry admitted. "Tory and the other one
are recently mated to Reah."
"So, she wasn't just any conscript when she landed
here," Hish said, cutting into his meat with difficulty.
"Well, she was at the time. Worked in a kitchen for the
Alliance. It wasn't until she got back that the ASD latched onto her." Ry
was about to give up on his dinner.
"So, she has us to thank for all that battle experience?"
Max grinned.
"I believe that's true," Tory agreed.
"We have a cook where we're going—we'll stay in the
largest village. You'll get a look at the drakus seed fields while you're there.
The villagers the High Commander relocated spend most of their days pumping
water for the plants." Bel gave Tory and Ry the information they needed. Ry
had tiny cameras affixed to his clothing—nobody from Mandil would even think to
look for them—the technology was beyond them. The Director and Vice-Director
would be getting live feeds from Ry if he wore either of the two vests he'd
brought with him.
"Who guards the fields at night?" Tory asked,
sipping the wine he'd poured; they'd found a few bottles left behind after the
evacuation.
"Pell is there—he sleeps during the day and guards at
night. You'll take his place so he can go home to his wife," Bel nodded at
Tory. "Mind you, I don't want any of the attacking wizards killed—we want
to bring them in with us. We may need their help when the time comes. I figure
the High Commander will wait until the harvest is done before making his
move."
"What about the army?" Ry asked.
"Right now, the Station Commander is still loyal to the
High Commander. Evlif Gorth is a reasonable man, though. I'm hoping that when the
final push comes, he'll send his troops in the right direction. The High
Commander hasn't done much to make Station Commander Gorth respect him." Bel
shoved his plate away with a sigh and sipped his wine.
* * *
"She's no family of mine—I received the papers making
that a fact not too long ago." Addah Desh was rude to Vice-Director
Schaff.
"Then ponder this—let her identity slip, even in the
slightest way possible, and you and I will have a discussion with the local
magistrate over child labor law violations within your restaurants."
"What?" Addah Desh almost came out of his chair. His
face was turning slightly purple, too. Lendill wondered if he might be forced
to call Emergency Medical for assistance.
"I have all the records, Master Cook Desh. Your son did
not pay her properly and worked her long hours from the age of eight. No child
is to be employed in a service industry establishment that exists to bring in
income—not under the age of fourteen. At age fourteen, that child is only
allowed to work a maximum of three clicks per day. Your granddaughter was
forced to work for six to eight clicks per night, depending upon which night. The
money you sent to your son to pay her was funneled directly into his accounts
and not paid out. Not in the proper manner, anyway. He may have slipped her a few
credits now and then, but it would not have been sufficient. All his expenses
are accounted for. No salary was paid to Reah Desh. She may as well have been a
slave—he treated her as one. And beat her, as you know, whenever he was angry. A
trait gained from his mother, don't you think?" Lendill toyed with the
comp-vid under his hand—all the pertinent records were there if Addah Desh
wished to see them. "Your granddaughter—your flesh and blood—and you
allowed this to happen. What do you think will happen to your business if this is
leaked to the media?"
"You're saying that Edan raped her mother—at Marzi's
urging?"
"Yes, I have that confession on a vid chip. They were
quite eager to blame the other, in an effort to reduce their own charges. And
then Marzi paid the physician to slip a blood thinner into your youngest wife's
medication—it appears that Raedah learned that the baby might have been Edan's
and
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