Siobhan

Month 1, Day 30, Saturday 4:30 p.m.

People were packed into the ground floor of the Verdant Stag like pickled cucumbers stuffed into a jar. It wasn’t until Siobhan got further into the room that some space cleared up and she was able to get away from the stifling crush. The heat from all the bodies made her warm clothing unnecessary, but she caught sight of a pair of uniformed coppers at one of the tables and decided not to take off her hooded cloak. Sure, she was Silvia, a civilian who, at most, helped at a healing station during the fighting, and had the identity papers to prove it, but if they took her to Harrow Hill, papers might not save her.

‘Why are they here?’ she wondered.

Everyone seemed to have come for the people on stage at the other end of the room, who she thought must be putting on some sort of play at first, but when she actually listened, it was a rather strange monologue.

“After the earlier testimony of both the accused and the accusers, which was verified through prognos divination and wards against untruth, Eric Hanna, Morrow member, has been found guilty by the Verdant Stag of the following crimes: public nudity, blackmail, three counts of mugging, twenty-two counts of extortion, and six counts of assault, one of which caused grievous and permanent injury. By order of Lord Stag, he has been relieved of the fruits of his crimes, and restitution is due to those he has harmed.”

The cheers were immediate and deafening as people clapped, slammed their tankards of ale and beer on the tabletops, and stomped their feet.

When the noise died down, the second person atop the stage stepped forward. “As the executor of a trust held at Citrus Bank, and in no way associated with the Verdant Stag, or other criminal activity,” he added, with a dark glare toward the two coppers, “I have been charged to publicly convey the beneficiaries of this trust and the amount they are receiving.”

Siobhan noticed then the banner above the stage that introduced the “charitable performance.”

The trust executor listed off names, accompanied by varying monetary amounts that ranged from a few silver to a few gold. It wasn’t even close to what the coppers would have fined for those same crimes, and was certainly less than what Oliver had extorted out of the accused Morrows, but the audience didn’t seem to care.

Siobhan sidled closer to a particularly enthusiastic woman. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice almost drowned out by another wave of cheers as the executor announced the next person to receive restitution.

The woman gave her a huge, slightly drunken grin that revealed a couple of missing teeth. “Something’s actually being done about the injustices we all been subjec—subjd—” She stopped to hiccup, then finished, “the injustices we went through.”

“And they’re really paying? How do you get chosen for restitution?”

The woman nodded dramatically. “Yes, Lord Stag is really paying out. If your name is called, you go down to Citrus Bank with identification, and their people there take out the money from that trust account he was mentioning—coin straight into your hand! And it’s easy to get considered for restitution, just go note what the Morrows did to you, and which’ve ‘em did it. You’ve gotta give testimony under some kind of spell that keeps you from lying, and once the trial is over it’s too late to submit a claim. Not everyone gets the restitution, if there’s not enough proof of what was done, or who did it, or if who did it doesn’t have any coin for the Verdant Stag to take back for you. Still, a damn sight better than anyone else would do for us.” She looked over to the table that housed the coppers and yelled, “A damn sight better than the coppers ever did for us!”

Siobhan tugged at the corner of her hood to make sure her face was hidden, trying to do so as naturally as possible so she didn’t seem suspicious. “Have you gotten any restitution?”

The woman grinned toothily again, holding up her mug in a toasting motion. “Three silver!” she announced proudly. Judging by her level of drunkenness, as well as the crumbs on the empty plate in front of her, she’d already spent at least that much, the coin going right back to the Verdant Stag.

‘Maybe Oliver isn’t so crazy.’

Siobhan watched the proceedings for a few more minutes, until someone sidled through the crowd, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

Siobhan jerked away, whipping around with her hands held up defensively, which she immediately decided was rather foolish, because she had little skill as a hand-to-hand combatant.

A young man raised his own hands, empty palms facing outward to convey his harmlessness. With a glance at the coppers, he reached down to his jacket, pulling one side open far enough that she could see the bright green antlers of the Stags embossed on a badge tucked into his shirt pocket. “Apologies, ma’am. I didn’t mean to startle you. Your presence has been requested upstairs.”

“By whom?”

He didn’t answer, instead giving her a significant look. “Mr. Huntley told me to pass the message along.”

She vaguely recognized the name as belonging to one of the Stags’ lead enforcers. Most likely, either Katerin or Oliver had called for her. Siobhan lowered her hands, nodding for the young man to lead the way. As they climbed the stairs at the edge of the room, the bottom of which was guarded by another enforcer, she asked, “I noticed the coppers are just sitting there. Have they been causing trouble?”

The young man laughed, as if the question was ironic. “Oh, plenty of it. But they can’t stop us. They don’t know where the Morrows are being held, and the two men on stage are a licensed actor and a lawyer who was hired to enforce the Citrus Bank trust independently. They’re not actually involved with the Verdant Stag or the trials or anything, they were just hired to talk on stage in a clearly labeled performance for charity. I’m not totally sure how that all works, but it’s not illegal. The coppers have still been arresting them, of course. This is the fourth or fifth set of performer and lawyer.” He grinned as if that was hilarious. “But they just stay down at Harrow Hill for a day or two for questioning while someone else takes their place on stage. None of them actually know anything, so Harrow Hill has to release them within three days. Those two coppers down below are just there for appearances. They haven’t tried anything.”

Siobhan hummed. “It still seems like they could arrest people on charges of collusion or something?”

“They’ll arrest people on charges of almost anything, but it’s not sticking. You go in, you take a few sleepless nights and shitty food and maybe a few bruises, but as long as you don’t talk, you come out again when either the laws or the bribes say so. Everyone got lessons on what to do, and we even got to practice against one of those lying wards.”

That seemed…dangerous. All it would take would be for someone higher up, like Titus Westbay, to notice and care that Oliver’s people were bribing their way out of charges, and suddenly an arrest might not be such a simple matter. And it would only take one person with the right information to give the coppers what they needed to make other charges stick. Oliver’s people might not be as bad as the Morrows, but they’d all committed crimes in the eyes of the Thirteen Crown Families.

If they arrested Oliver, Katerin, or someone else with actual knowledge and power, things would become much more dangerous. She wasn’t sure a bribe would be enough to cover them. And of course, the coppers would remember that the Raven Queen had been associated with the Verdant Stag, too.

The whole situation made her uncomfortable.

The enforcer led Siobhan to Oliver’s office, which she had never been in before. It was significantly more ostentatious than Katerin’s office, all dark woods and plush furniture, with a layout that suggested the chair behind Oliver’s desk was instead a throne, and all who entered must supplicate before him. It would have been more impressive if his desk wasn’t covered with a mess of ledgers, binders, and loose paper.

Oliver looked up from a small leather notebook, the kind with a lock, and gave her an excited smile as she entered. He quickly closed the book and set it aside, then, deciphering her expression, said, “Yes, this office is generally only used for meeting with people. I’m considering moving the administrative headquarters to another building. Somewhere more discreet. We’ve got quite a few former Morrow properties whose rights were signed over.” He stood from the desk, moving to one of the plush chairs nearer the fire and gesturing for her to join him. Someone had left a coffee tray, and he offered her a cup of dark liquid brewed so strongly the sugar spoon almost stood up straight.

“Is there a plan to deal with the coppers, other than antagonizing them with public shows meant to undermine their authority?” she asked.