Melanthios’s headquarters.
The place was a Revolutionary War-era house. Tall and white, it looked new. The enormous lawn was green and healthy. Cherry trees surrounded a pond with a fountain statue of George Washington. Several different kinds of birds popped from tree to tree, their jumbled songs filling the air.
It was a very peaceful place.
Strangely, I always felt at home in the old house. It came from a time when men strove to create something new out of the old, something better. Iron men on wooden ships came here to extend the British Empire, to make more Europe. What they discovered was a land incompatible with the Old World. The frontier was a crucible upon which the natives and winters hardened and sharpened and shaped the settlers. They were no longer British or French or Spaniards. Europe, great and glorious as it was, could not constrain the spirit of these people, though it had tried. Engineers were all about evolution. This house reminded me of revolution.
We entered the great hall and continued without announcement or pause into a large office in the center of the main floor. It was the business office. I guess Melanthios meant business.
The room probably hadn’t changed since the days of George Washington. It was all hardwood floors and trim covered by centuries of lacquer and polish. A huge desk stood in the center, surrounded by a few chairs.
Seated behind the desk was Melanthios. An ordinary-looking guy, it was hard to believe that his simple frame contained such might and age. He reported directly to Glial, one of the Preceptors, a Lord of Law. Melanthios wore jeans and a thin cashmere sweater. His brown hair was long and flawlessly styled.
Next to him stood a tall, attractive, Asian-looking woman. She wore a perfectly cut and pressed navy business suit.
Her fists clenched as I entered the room.
Melanthios looked. “Ah, Elson. I’m honestly surprised you came. But glad, nonetheless.” He spied my coffee. “And you brought hot coffee from that shop of yours, great. They have the best coffee.”
I plodded over to the desk and distributed the stuff. I gave the cup intended for me to the woman.
“What have you been up to recently, Elson?” Melanthios asked as he sat back and sipped.
“Oh, the usual small projects. Trying to make the world a better place, you know.”
The first rule in speaking with any prince is to provide no information. They’ll always use it against you.
He smiled. “I mean really, what on this earth have you been doing?” His gaze pierced me like a javelin.
“I don’t follow,” I said.
He nodded to the woman standing at his side. She still didn’t look happy. Nor was she enjoying my cup of coffee. She should give it back, then.
“This is Aello. She is of Thought and a faithful servant of Law.” He gave her a sideways glance. “And I don’t believe I’d be out of line to say she’d like to see great harm come to you.”
Denial seemed to be the only course of action--even though I didn’t know what I was denying.
“I don’t have any issues with Thought. You can ask Diomedes. He’ll vouch for me.” Aello looked like she was about to come out of her skin. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. So I shut up.
Melanthios studied me for a long time.
“Aello, please tell Elson what you witnessed yesterday.”
She took a step toward me and tried to stare a hole into my face. I resisted the urge to rub my forehead.
“I was guarding the Thoth, a repository of extensive archives and other Thought assets. I sensed Elson approaching in great haste, but knew him to be a friend of Diomedes, who owned the Thoth and all her precious cargo.”
My world became more complicated, confusing, and a little irritating. She continued.
“So instead of prohibiting his approach, I went to meet him onboard. As I arrived, I witnessed Elson destroying the ship and her cargo, murdering her crew without hesitation.
Learning to Kill: Stories