The Last Sin [A High Fantasy Spy Thriller]

The Money Trail Part 51: Alden


My muscles tensed.

Was it Alden?

The High Sanctifier was the one who made me Landbound. He also sent Reed on our trail and made a black-market deal with Rugar to have me captured. I owed him and the Sanctifiers a small fortune in gold, along with some pain for everything they put me through.

"Let him in," the King said. "Let's start with the good news."

Vincent opened the door, and a mass of billowing black robes shuffled into the room.

The Sanctifier was shorter and rounder than Alden. He wiped a black sleeve over the shiny pate of his balding head. His jowls jiggled as he hurried to the other end of the room.

"My King! My Prince! My apologies for being late! The Guildhall has been in disarray all morning. It's-it's horrible!"

The King raised a hand.

"Breathe, Randal. Breathe… Did you complete what was asked of you?"

"Yes! I have it here."

He slipped a leather satchel from over his shoulder and raised it with both hands.

"What's that?" I asked, still wary, Sin's words echoing in my mind.

Never take a gift from a Sanctifier.

Caf answered.

"Earlier this morning, we took the gold from your wagon and gave it to the Sanctifiers for safekeeping."

"You what?!"

My left hand went to my cane.

Angelo shifted into a stance, one hand on his longsword.

"Jacob?!" Isla said, in a tone a mother would use to scold a child.

Randal's eyes bulged.

"I-It's standard practice. I assure you! I secured your deposits myself!"

Caf quirked an eyebrow, amused at my outburst.

"I understand your mistrust of Sanctifiers, but for this, they are ironclad. The Sanctifiers operate the largest bank in Luskaine. We thought it prudent to move your funds to a more secure location."

Right… I knew that.

Randal held his satchel close to his chest.

"If you want to move your funds, it can be arranged, b-b-but all major banks use our services for recordkeeping. It can't be helped."

I took a deep breath and slipped my hand off my cane.

Angelo relaxed but gave me a wary squint.

"I'm sorry about Jacob. We've had run-ins with the Inquisition. It's made him a bit nervous about Sanctifiers," Isla said.

The King smirked.

"Clumsy and nervous? A poor combination."

I blushed.

"Continue, Randal," the King said.

"Y-yes. Of course."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The old Sanctifier fumbled with the satchel's leather straps, pulling out four pieces of paper, a feather quill and a vial of ink sealed with a cork.

He walked to the table and laid out the paper.

"What's this?" Castille asked.

"Statements of balance. Here, take a look. I made one for each of you."

We huddled around the table, examining the balance statements. Each statement was a half-sheet of paper, with an elaborate pattern drawn around the border. Statement of balance was written in Low Elvish at the top, with a red sanctifier seal stamped in the left corner.

I skimmed over a paragraph of fine print to stare at the large number at the bottom of the sheet.

Randal continued.

"On Caf's instructions, I split your reward into four separate accounts. The number at the bottom represents your share of the reward."

I suppressed a smile, picked up the statement in both hands and shivered.

"It's enchanted."

"Yes, the statements are tied to our records and updated in real time. It's one of our greatest innovations!"

I scoffed.

"I thought speaking High Elvish was forbidden. That's how you enchant objects, right?"

I knew the answer, but I liked making him sweat.

Randal's face paled.

"Um… Well, our Board has declared that Sanctifiers are allowed to speak High Song in certain cases. We sanctify it. That's why we're called Sanctifiers."

"Nnnothing's a crime when they do it," Dugan grumbled.

Thor huffed, mirroring the shorter man's mood.

Randal dabbed his forehead with his sleeve.

"L-Let's change the subject, shall we. I'll need your signatures on these statements. Once you do that, you can present them at any established merchant in Luskaine. The merchant will match your signature to any new contract, and the amount will automatically be deducted from your account. Much easier than lugging around all that gold, don't you think?"

He let out a nervous laugh.

I nodded. Hypocrisy aside, it was a convenient system. I would have to stop by Elmer's shop to try it out.

"What happens if something steals your statement?" Isla asked.

"Or if you lose it?" Castille added.

"Find the nearest Guildhall. Once we confirm your identity, we'll cancel the old statement and create a new one. For a fee, of course."

Questions answered, we passed the feather quill between us, signing the statements with our full names. Dugan, unable to read or write, scribbled down his personal mark that resembled a boar with large, protruding tusks.

As I watched his thick fingers pinch the quill, I noticed something.

"Why is my share of the reward lower?"

"Oh, right! You had debts with us, Lord Sin. I took the liberty of subtracting what was owed from your account balance."

I frowned.

Alden had planned to use that debt to turn me into an indentured servant. I had wanted to see the look on his face when I paid it back.

At least Randal saved me a trip.

I nodded.

"I see. Make sure you give Alden my regards."

I smirked and then blinked in confusion as Randal's face turned ghostly white.

Was it something I said?

"What's wrong?"

"High Sanctifier Alden… is dead. Murdered!"

I blinked at Randal. Stunned.

"How?"

"He was found by his guards this morning with his esophagus ripped out of his throat. Spirits, the blood! It was everywhere…"

The left hand went to my neck, mimicking Sin's iron grip. I shivered, her words from last night echoing in my mind.

Places to go, people to kill…

So, that's what Bernard was angry about: the destruction of Maker's Row, the attack on Rugar and his mercenaries, and now, the murder of Alden Able.

All orchestrated by Sin.

Why? For what purpose?

"I… I didn't know," I said in a distant voice.

I frowned, struggling with my conflicting emotions. I was relieved that Alden was dead and horrified by whatever Sin had planned.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose.

Whatever it was, it was big.

Should I warn the King?

I turned to him. He sat with a stoic presence, unmoved by the death of the High Sanctifier.

"I was saddened when I heard this news," The King said. "Our tragedies seem to compound with the days."

He shook his head with feigned concern.

"Randal, if you're finished with our guests, please share my condolences with your Guild."

"Of course, my King. I will!" Randal said, colour returning to his face.

He corked the vial of ink, grabbed his satchel and plucked his quill out of Dugan's hand. He bowed twice to the King and Crown Prince, walking backwards until he disappeared through the front door.

King sighed.

"Just watching him makes me tired."

"But you have to admire his energy," Alex said.

He smiled, and the room became brighter.

It wasn't fair…

"Jacob, how do you know Lord Able?" Caf asked.

I froze, considering my options.

Was there any point in lying?

"He made me Landbound."

Caf and the King exchanged glances.

"I see," The King said. "His murder will bring the full force of the Inquisition down on the capital. You're relationship with him and your… heritage will make you a suspect for the crime."

I imagined an army of Special Inquisitor Reeds marching into the city and shuddered.

Wait. Didn't that mean the real Reed was also on her way?

King continued.

"By either luck or fate, this aligns with the Crown's interests. You need to leave the capital, and I have a mission of great importance."

I frowned.

No... No way…

"I want you and this party to go to Dahlgesh."

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