Page 4 of The Study of Poisons
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That afternoon,various members of Valek’s spy network, his corps, reported in. He had several operations running concurrently. The black market that sold smuggled goods from Sitia, the country south of Ixia, was almost impossible to stop. Shutting one market down just resulted in another popping up in a different location. It was a constant source of frustration.
And the generals who ruled the eight military districts of Ixia were another cause of exasperation. The eight men constantly bickered and plotted against each other as they tried to gain the Commander’s favor. They all wanted to be named his successor. The Commander had already chosen his replacement, but the generals had no idea who it was, so they were ever hopeful that they would impress him enough that it would either reaffirm his decision about them or that he would change his mind.
As if, Valek snorted. The Commander rarely modified his views. The man was almost as unyielding as the stones Valek carved into statues. Only after hours of grinding and polishing and chipping could Valek transform the dull gray rock into a beautiful black statue that glinted with silver. The same amount of effort was also required to sway the Commander’s opinions. Except it didn’t always work. And Valek only worked that hard on something worth the effort.
Then there were the Sitian spies sneaking into Ixia. They were harder to find as they used magic to hide. The use of magic was outlawed in Ixia, and it was up to Valek to hunt down the magicians and deal with them. Up to him because he was the only person in Ixia immune to magic.
By the time he finished listening to the reports of his corps, it was time for dinner. Valek hurried to the kitchens to pick up the Commander’s meal. Acting as food taster added to his workload, but he was willing to skip a few hours of sleep to figure out the puzzle of Yelena and Brazell.
After getting the tray, he hustled to the Commander’s office. The man hated tardiness. When Valek entered, the Commander was still behind his plain wooden desk as if he hadn’t moved since this morning. At least Oscove’s body had been taken away.
As he crossed the room, Valek noted how completely opposite it was to his own. For one thing, there was no clutter. Everything was neat and organized. Every item had a specific purpose. Nothing personal decorated the space. Well, nothing except the snow cat statue Valek had carved for him. The Commander had a fondness for snow cats.
“What are your thoughts on the new food taster?” the Commander asked as Valek set the tray on his desk.
“A year in the dungeon has taken a physical toll on her.” He put a spoonful of the soup into his mouth and rolled it around his tongue before swallowing. Then he inspected and sniffed the beef before sipping the Commander’s tea. Tastings had to be done in front of the Commander. The man was too smart to allow it to happen where he couldn’t watch. Valek pushed the tray closer. “Your dinner is clean.”
The Commander grunted. “Will she survive the tests?”
Valek settled into a chair as he considered. “At this point I’d give her a fifty percent chance.”
“That’s the same as saying you don’t know.”
True. “She’s young and should be able to recover her strength. But she’s small, so I’ll have to be careful not to give her too much poison. If I go by the determination in her gaze, then I’d say she’ll survive.”
“She’ll need more than determination.”
Also true. Intelligence, quick thinking, and a stubborn will were equally essential.
Between bites of his meal, the Commander asked, “Learn anything interesting this afternoon?”
Valek updated him on what his corps had discovered. “There’s another black market operation in Castletown. Sven says he’ll have the location pinned down in the next couple of days.”
“They are incorrigible. Do I need to start executing the leaders to stop the smuggling?” the Commander asked.
“I think that’s too harsh. And it probably won’t work. I’d rather put them out of business.”
He paused with his spoon halfway to his lips. “How would you do that?”
“We’re never going to be able to completely stop the smuggling or the sale of illegal Sitian goods. Instead, we should run them out of business by secretly setting up our own black market with cheaper prices. Eventually the others won’t be able to compete.”
“That’ll be expensive.”
“No, it won’t. We don’t have to bribe the border guards, local officials, or hire lookouts. In fact, we’ll make a profit.”
“What if they retaliate? Attack our people?” The Commander loved to play devil’s advocate.
Valek gave him a flat look. “My corps won’t have any trouble defending themselves.”
“But when we shut down our black market, the others will just re-open. Ixians seem to be willing to break the law for luxury goods.” The Commander’s tone was derisive.
The Commander abhorred decadence and folly and the extravagances of the wealthy. He believed in equality for all. Which was why, when he took control of Ixia, he required everyone in the territory to wear a uniform made of the same fabric. Each Military District was assigned a color to go with black. Valek rather liked the violet and black colors of MD-3’s uniforms. Those living in the castle wore red and black—the Commander’s colors. Each occupation had a slightly different uniform, so a person knew at a glance if they were talking to a cook or a medic.
“We don’t shut down.” Valek said. “It’ll become a lucrative stream of income.”
“I can’t sanction that. I’d be breaking my own law.”
