Military Supply Corruption, Explosive Terrorism (3)
The day after Sahad handed me the evidence, I sat sipping tea and reviewing it all with care.
Appraisal result: The mana signatures present in both magic tools match at a rate of 99%.
Therefore, the two signatures are determined to belong to the same individual.
However, as the mana in question is not registered with the Magic Tower, the identity of the individual cannot be confirmed.
Dovern,
Even waiting is starting to wear thin.
Deal with it quickly.
Only then will you receive the goods we agreed upon, no?
(…)
I shall be waiting for good news.
A mana signature appraisal written by the Magic Tower. A letter penned in Marquis Rosman’s own hand. The evidence Sahad had passed to me was genuinely valuable—more than enough to stand as usable proof in a court of law.
How on earth had he gathered all of this? Knowing it had taken nearly ten years made sense, and yet I could not help but be impressed. He was, after all, a commoner without a scrap of power to his name. He must have longed for it that desperately—to see the truth of his son’s death brought properly into the light.
It could never be identical, but I understood that feeling well enough. If I thought of the day Lydia had died, I would have done the same and more.
Time passed, and before I knew it the sun stood high overhead. I left the lodging.
The carriage I had arrived in waited out front, and before it stood four mercenaries including Dwinsen.
“Dwinsen, head back to the Imperial Capital. I’ve left payment for this job with the steward—collect it yourself.”
“What about you, boss? Got more business?”
“I do. Personal matters.”
“That so. Then I’ll go on ahead. Don’t die.”
Dwinsen turned and walked off without looking back. The fact that he asked no useless questions made him a man I rather liked. He knew precisely which lines not to cross.
Speaking of which, he should be arriving any moment now…
“Forgive me. Have you been waiting long?”
“I’ve only just stepped out. Think nothing of it.”
Sahad came hurrying up and bowed low. In his hands was a small wooden box; inside it lay only a few changes of clothes and a handful of magic tools.
Daimond had been the same. Did magic tool artisans all suffer from some affliction that stopped them from buying their own wares?
“Is this all your luggage?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Then climb aboard.”
Sahad had formally agreed to work at the magic tool workshop I would be running. From my position, I had no reason to refuse. Finding someone of his experience elsewhere would be difficult, and it let me protect a witness who had aided the investigation.
Standing at the carriage door, Sahad hesitated.
“You want me to ride… in this?”
“Yes.”
“Is it truly all right for someone like me?”
“It is. No issue at all.”
Sahad swallowed hard and climbed in with awkward movements. The carriage was a rather luxurious piece; it was only natural a commoner would feel the weight of it.
Once I followed him aboard, the carriage set off with a faint tremor. The vast magic tool workshop of the Rosman Marquisate slowly fell away behind us.
“Inspector, might I make one request?”
“By all means.”
“I would like to bring my family from the Rowen Viscounty. Of course I understand that bringing family to a workplace is not always welcome…”
“Shall I lend you a carriage, then?”
“Pardon…?”
“Having one’s family near is nothing to be unwelcome. Provided you yourself are comfortable with it, of course.”
Sahad had already lost a son in a magic tool workshop. Even if the circumstances differed now, it was not a decision he could make lightly. The fear of losing his family again would still be there.
“Then… if I may be so bold, I would be grateful for the carriage.”
“Very well. Do so.”
I had already secured a considerable number of carriages for the workshop’s operations. Lending him one that was not yet in use would be no great difficulty—though it would not be anything as fine as the one we rode in now.
About a day later, the carriage left the Rosman Marquisate and entered the Candel Viscounty. The magic tool workshop had been situated near the border to begin with.
From time to time, carriages laden with magic stones thundered past the window. It drove home just how many magic tools the Rosman Marquisate was producing. Not that it would last much longer. Those crude, low-grade magic tools that never spared a thought for the safety of the empire’s people would vanish from the market.
Another half day after that, the carriage gradually slowed and finally came to a complete stop. We had reached our destination.
I stepped down at once. At the end of my gaze lay the entrance to an abandoned mine and a single large building—the magic stone processing plant. Because it had been the first magic stone mine discovered in the Candel Viscounty, the investment had been a little excessive.
From my perspective, that was ideal. I had secured a serviceable building without pouring out a fortune. Better still, the miners’ dormitories still stood right beside it. Two birds with one stone.
Sahad, who had climbed down at some point, spoke.
“Inspector, is this the place you intend to use as the magic tool workshop?”
“It is.”
“Judging by the look of things, construction is still in full swing.”
“It should take a few more days. No matter how much manpower you throw at it, some time is always required.”
I had asked two things of Daimond: to document the defects in the military supplies manufactured by the Rosman Marquisate, and to oversee the renovation of the magic stone processing plant into a magic tool workshop.
The people on site always knew best what the site needed. That was why I had delegated full authority over the construction to him.
I met Daimond not long after. He had been deep in conversation with several mages; the moment he spotted me he strode over at once.
“Elder, how is the construction progressing?”
“The skill of the people involved is excellent. It’s moving far faster than I expected.”
“How long until it’s finished?”
“About a week, I should think.”
A week. That was perfect. By the time we were ready to produce a few prototypes, Marquis Rosman’s trial would be over. We would be able to claim the vacated military contracts as a matter of course.
“This man is an artisan who has come over from the Rosman Marquisate’s magic tool workshop. Do you know him by sight?”
“‘Know him by sight’ hardly covers it.”
“I see. Then please take a moment to greet each other. I’ll have a look around inside the building.”
With that I stepped away. There would be many things they could not say with me standing there.
So this is what a magic tool workshop feels like.
On one side stood a furnace capable of melting materials; on the other, cylinders for refining magic stones. Magic tools had long since become part of daily life, yet this was the first time I had ever seen the facilities that made them.
I do not know how much time passed before Daimond approached.
“Have you finished your greetings?”
“I have. More importantly, take these.”
He handed me several sheets of paper. I accepted them and scanned the lines with care.
“Defects in the magic tools produced by the Rosman Marquisate. I wrote them so even a complete novice could recognize them at a glance.”
“You have my thanks.”
“Will you be heading to the Imperial Capital now?”
“I will. It’s time to put an end to this matter.”
“You’ve been working hard.”
“It’s simply what must be done.”
They were giving their all for the magic tool workshop in their own way. In the same spirit, I would give my all as well—as an inspector, ensuring that the nobles who had fostered corruption paid for their crimes.
“Once the workshop is complete, please make a few prototypes. Ones that can match the performance of what the Rosman Marquisate used to produce. I’ll cover whatever cost is required.”
“Understood.”
“I would prefer to come myself if possible, but if I cannot, I’ll send the steward.”
“Don’t concern yourself over that. As long as each of us does our best in our own place, that is more than enough.”
He was right. If everyone simply gave their best in their own position, the empire would surely move in the right direction.
That was the end of my conversation with Daimond. Papers in hand, I climbed back into the carriage. With a faint tremor it began to roll forward once more.
Now it was time to summon Marquis Rosman to the Imperial Capital. I rather looked forward to seeing the expression on Gasfield’s face when he learned of this.