“After what happened with the Agan brothers, he warned me not to overstep my bounds. He might be sending me a warning.”
The Defense Minister raised his hand. “Or it could be chance—I’m not saying it is, but you don’t have any proof. If it was indeed Willem, it was a clever move on his part. I’ve built my entire career on fighting corruption. If I were to specially excuse one of the conscripted soldiers, it would undermine my entire position.” He raised a hand again before Kyra could object. “That’s not to say I cannot help you at all. But I would need proof that Willem had something to do with Faxon’s original conscription.” Malikel used Flick’s real name, which he had learned when the Palace had sheltered him from the Assassins Guild.
“Proof?” Kyra echoed. How could she get proof?
“I’ll have some of my men investigate,” said Malikel. “And you would do well to avoid attracting any more of Willem’s attention in the meantime. I know you might be tempted to take this matter into your own hands, but any misstep on your part could make things worse for your friend.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. She wasn’t sure if Malikel really believed she’d sit back while Flick’s life was at risk, but she saw no use in arguing.
It took her a moment to realize that Malikel was looking intently at her. “Kyra,” he said, and there was something in his voice that demanded attention.
Kyra snapped to attention. Had her previous response been too flippant?
“There are several skills that a good Defense Minister needs on a regular basis. One is an ability to judge the truth and see through anything that obfuscates it. When facts have been kept from me, it’s almost always better if the one who’s been hiding these things reveals them first.” Kyra had the distinct impression that they were no longer talking about Flick. “I’m charged with upholding the law, but I also don’t consider the law a rigid thing. Character comes into account, as do the specific circumstances. We can’t always control our past.”
“I don’t understand, sir.” Who knew what the expression on her face was right now?
“I cannot have someone under me who only entrusts me with partial information. I understand it is hard to throw your fate in with the Palace when there are so many people, like Willem, who may not look on you as their equal. But those people will always exist. In the end, you must make a decision. Either you decide that you can accomplish something for this city and you commit fully to the job. Or you leave.”
“Leave the Palace?”
“Leave the city,” Malikel said.
Her mouth had gone completely dry. He knew about her bloodlines, or at least suspected. Kyra licked her lips in a failed attempt to get some moisture on them. “Can I ask a question, sir?” she said.
“You may.”
“Why don’t you return to Minadel? You could be respected there, live a normal life without folk looking at you sideways because you’re a foreigner.”
Another man might have thought her question a deflection, but Malikel seemed to take it in stride.
“I was a common mercenary in Minadel. I would have amounted to nothing there. It was here in Forge where fate smiled on me. That was why I stayed at first, though you are correct that if I were to leave now, the Minadan court would welcome my expertise and experience.” He turned to look at a map on the wall, his gaze lingering on his old homeland. “But I have unfinished work in Forge. There are times when I want to wring the necks of my colleagues at the Council, but minds are slowly changing.”
“If I may speak plainly, sir, hundreds of folk might lose their lives in the forest before minds in the Palace are finished changing.”