Not a member?     Existing members login below:

Nature Abhors a Vacuum

“No thanks,” Pacian laughed. “I like my teeth right where they are.”
* * *
They headed back over to the Mayoral office to find the queue to see the man had re-
formed during their eventful day, and Aiden was in no mood to wait in line. An
altogether different gro up of local residents glared indignantly as the young adventurer
led his companions through to the inner door of the office once again, and knocked
“You again,” Mayor Buchanan sighed. “What on earth could you possibly want from
me now?” Aiden decided on a diplomatic approach, despite his impatience.
“I understand you are a member of the Gentlemen's Club?”
“Indeed I am. It is a place I go to unwind from the hassles of my office, such as
yourselves. What business is it of yours?”
“I have need to speak with Ronald Bartlett, co-owner of the North Shore Trading
Company, and I have been informed I will not be permitted into the club.”
“Quite so,” Buchanan replied haughtily. “Try not to take offence, as the club exists
primarily to keep people like you, away from people like us.” Aiden stared at the
overweight man blandly for a few moments before he could compose his next thoughts in
the form of a question, and not a fist to the arrogant man's face.
“We've just come from the barracks, where I spoke with Sergeant Ariel. An incident
occurred this morning concerning the security of the town, and she wants Ronald Bartlett
to answer some questions. Being the discreet and thoughtful individual she is, the
Sergeant thought it would be better if the questions came from a man. So, if you could
see your way clear to allow us entry for a few minutes, we could get this whole matter
resolved promptly.”
“You can't expect me to...” Buchanan stammered, looking at the rough looking group
with incredulous eyes. “I mean, my reputation would be ruined if the lot of you were to
show up in the Club!” Sensing Aiden's failure at diplomacy, Pacian stepped forward.
“It's in your best interest to help us out here,” he said, keeping his voice low and
casting his gaze around, as if to check for who might be listening. “Some information we
recently received implicates you and the Mayor of Bracksford in some, shall we say,
highly illegal activities with the North Shore Trading Company. Does the name „Merin
Teas‟ ring a bell? Help us out here, and that information will almost certainly be
tragically lost somehow. Otherwise, well, these things have a way of getting out, if you
know what I mean.”
“You wouldn't,” Buchanan said under his breath, turning bright red and breaking out
in a sweat. “I have a reputation to protect in this town!”
“What goes around, comes around,” Colt growled, playing along. “You should be
thankful we haven't turned your fat arse in to the authorities already.” Buchanan glanced
over at his assistant, whose head was prac tically buried in a pile of papers on the desk,
working feverishly so he didn't have to face his boss.
“As it happens, I would be more than willing to aid your efforts in assisting my
extremely competent woman-I mean Sergeant of the guard,” Buchanan relented. “Here,
take this key,” he added, fishing a small silver chain out of his waistcoat and handing it to
Aiden. “That will allow you access to the Club. I expect that returned promptly, sir!”