Chapter 17 – A Matter of Restraint

As the two watchmen entered the room, Jonathon's first reaction was panic, which he quickly tried to smother.

We have done nothing wrong, broken no laws.

But he could feel the gold, gods knew how much of it, right there beneath his feet as a physical weight. It didn't matter that they were the victims, that they hadn't actually broken any laws. He was guilty on general principle, and had to resist the urge to tear at the floor screaming "Villains! Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! - tear up the stones! - here, here! - it is the glowing of the hideous yellow metal! There! And there!"[1]

Myria's reaction was quite different. Thoughts of gold, or robberies, or even broken furniture fled her mind the moment the male watchman came fully into view. He was… a conundrum. She could see clearly that he was a human male… extremely so. But her Auditor-derived skills kept trying to file him under 'dwarf,' and that clearly would not do. The result left her strangely focused on him, head tilted slightly to one side like a cat trying to decide what exactly that fuzzy object attached to a string is.

"Captain Carrot, City Watch. And this is Sergeant Angua. We were told there was a serious crime committed here."

Even more intriguing, she thought. His voice matched his appearance and set up reverberations along her nerves. What manner of human is this?

Jonathon, realizing that Myria was not going to respond, tried to answer nonchalantly. "Ah, Captain, there must be some mistake. We didn't call for the watch." He tried to follow the Sergeant with his peripheral vision while keeping his eyes fixed on the Captain but failed. She was already moving around the room through the piles of broken furniture and rubble from the damaged walls and he couldn't keep her in view without turning back and forth. "Though as you can see someone has broken in and caused damage to Lady LeJean's residence."

Myria frowned at Jonathon's response. For one thing, it seemed to be… not quite correct, or at least incomplete. For another, it was as if his words were filtered through cotton. Something seemed to be wrong with her hearing.

But she could see perfectly well. At least, the Captain was vividly outlined in front of her. There was something, an air of nobility and controlled power and self-assurance about him. It was comforting and attracting at the same time. After the emotional shock of the past few hours, it soothed her rattled nerves.

"Yes Mr. Knäcke." Jonathon blinked at the mention of his name. "We were notified by a deliveryman. It seems he arrived with some furnishings purchased for the residence, and when he found the state of the property, he felt it was his civic duty to report it immediately." The there was a snort at that, and Jonathon spared the Sergeant a quick glance. She was off to the side of Myria, examining one of the holes in the wall separating the sitting room from the dining area, her face carefully blank. Myria on the other hand looked… slightly dazed.

When he turned back to the Captain, he was addressing Myria directly. "Lady LeJean? I'm afraid I have not had the pleasure. You are visiting Ankh Morpork for the first time I assume?" This was delivered with a pleasant smile. Jonathon relaxed. It was hard to stay tense in the face of that open, honest expression. This is all going to be fine. Captain…Carrot… is just being helpful.

Myria felt herself go warm as the Captain turned to her and smiled. It was radiant, transforming him into the most beautiful human she had ever seen. He was… like a god. In the darkness behind the eyes, a picture formed unexpectedly of him, seated regally and commanding the room. It was replaced again by the vision before her, his smile broad and welcoming.

Somewhere inside her head, a war was waged and quickly lost. On the one side was her logical aspect, trying to get her attention, to put things into perspective, to file these reactions where they should go. Unfortunately it was vastly outnumbered by the combination of emotional demands and the body's strange chemical soup. The combination of yesterday's highs and this morning's shocks had left her shaken and vulnerable, and here in front of her was a promise of safety and strength, an aura of command. In a physical package that was suddenly irresistible.

Jonathon watched in confusion, then concern, as Myria drifted forward like a sleepwalker instead of answering the Captain. And she was not the only one unhappy with the result. From her left, the Sergeant was suddenly present behind Myria, and reached out to take her shoulder. "Hey! What do you think you are-"

Myria did not even realize at first that she had moved forward, until she felt something holding her back. She tried to break loose, then when she could not she flung her arm out in an attempt to push it away and felt it connect with something solid. Myria could hear nothing but the sound of her own pulse in her ears, see nothing but the Captain as his expression changed from radiant to an adorable confusion.

Then pain blossomed as from a distance, and sound assaulted her. There was yelling, and she realized with a shock that it was from her own throat and from outside her. The pain in her arm and shoulder was excruciating. She turned to see a woman's fingernails, impossibly sharp, digging through the cloth of her blouse and into the flesh of her right shoulder. And beyond, eyes finally focusing, she saw Jonathon's face twisted in anger and outrage.

"Myria! For gods sakes what are you doing!"

What am I doing?

She turned back to the Captain, seeking the answer to her unspoken question. She was almost within arms-reach of him, but realized now that his expression was of concern, and he was not looking at her or reaching for her, but for his companion to Myria's left. It was the Sergeant who was holding Myria back from reaching him, painfully. Shocked and confused, Myria made the mistake of meeting the woman's eyes and found herself captured by a burning anger there.

"You. Will. Stay. Away. From. Him." Those eyes, predator's eyes, drove the message home, deep into the darkness behind the eyes. The darkness knew, and the flesh knew, and shrank back from the promise there. 'Mine' it said, and it had the ability to enforce it with blood, fur, teeth, and all the pain that Myria could imagine.

"I did not… I do not…" Myria began shaking with the pain and the realization that she had not been in control of her own body. She looked at Jonathon and saw his shock fading to simple anger.

"Myria, come here." The Sergeant released her as Myria stumbled toward Jonathon. Taking her by the hand, he led her to the once-dining-room-now-disaster-zone and cleared some rubble from beside the wall. She watched his face, trying to read his thoughts, but it was carefully blank. There was no warmth in his hands as he lowered her to the floor so she could sit with her back to the wall. "Stay here. I have to deal with this. We'll talk. Later."

"I don't care what she has been through, I saw very well what she was trying to do."

"Angua, she wasn't even armed."

"Hah. Every woman has at least one weapon in her arsenal."

"Sorry?"

"Never mind. And besides, you have no idea what she was capable of." She turned to Jonathon as he returned to the sitting room. "Spill it, what is she?"

"I… I don't know what you mean."

Angua's eyes narrowed. "I don't appreciate having my partner accosted and then being lied to."

"Angua, really, you are making a big deal out of nothing." Jonathon could swear she almost growled at the captain. "Sergeant, we are here to investigate what looks like a break-in."

Angua's eyes narrowed and she gave her head a quick shake. "Fine. Just as long as that… person… stays in the other room."

Jonathon could actually see the Captain switch mental gears. "I'm sure Mr. Knäcke can answer our questions. Right Mr. Knäcke? How is your uncle? Shorthanded at the moment I suppose?"

Jonathon was taken aback, and tried to collect his thoughts. "Um… yes of course. Yes my uncle is doing well. We sent my cousin back when we found the damage."

"I see, and how much was taken?"

"As far as we can... how much of what?" He had almost been caught off-guard. That honest face was deceptively perceptive.

"Of whatever it was that the thieves were looking for."

"Er… as far as we can tell, nothing was taken."

"And have you reported the theft to the Thieves Guild yet?"

"I… as I said, I'm not sure anything was taken. I mean, maybe it wasn't a robbery?" The Sergeant snorted again.

"Yes of course Mr. Knäcke. But on the off chance that something was taken, have you reported it yet?"

"Er… no. Myria… that is Lady LeJean, had only been in Ankh Morpork for a short time. She had not yet paid her guild dues."

His honest face wrinkled in concern. "Oh my. Well that makes things much more complicated doesn't it? Not only will you have to have all this damage repaired out of your own pocket, you will have to track down the stolen items without the help of the Guild."

"I… we…" Jonathon sighed. "Captain, thank you for your concern, but as I said, we don't believe anything has been stolen."

"Right right. Sorry I keep forgetting you told me that. Looks like it's only a matter of senseless vandalism. A shame too, and in such a nice neighborhood. Probably hooligans. Do you mind if we see all the damage? For our reports of course, just a formality."

"Of course Captain! Please, be our guest." Jonathon was visibly relieved as the Captain and Sergeant worked their way out of the room. It gave him a few minutes to collect his wits, but it didn't seem nearly long enough before they returned.

"Well Mr. Knäcke, if there is nothing else you can think of that might provide a clue as to motive, we'll just fill out our paperwork –"

"Outside-" Angua interjected.

"Er yes, outside, and be on our way. Do you know of anyone who has a personal problem with Lady LeJean?"

"No captain."

"Ah well, it seems this is likely to be one of the really difficult cases. No motive, nothing taken." He shook his head. "Senseless. Well, I'm am sorry we can't be of more help to you Mr. Knäcke. We will be on our way."

"Yes of course Captain. We appreciate your efforts of course."

Thank Io that's over…. was all he could muster as he slumped to the floor.

"Angua, what was that comment you made about the Lady?"

Another snort. "Lady LeJean is no lady."

Carrot's face creased as his brows came together. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure. But she's not human. I'm not sure what she is. She didn't smell right and she certainly didn't act right. She's no zombie, and definitely no vampire though. What looks human but isn't?" She examined her fingernails, and was not surprised to see no blood on them at all.

"She was certainly upset like you would expect a person to be."

"Ask me if I care."

"Angua…"

"Don't Angua me. I don't like her. And both of them were lying through their teeth."

"Yes, I realized that too. But I'm not sure why. I'm going to have a couple of the men keep an eye on the house, and on the bakery. This was not a simple vandalism or robbery. Whoever did that was looking for something. And based on the damage, they were willing to spend hours risking being caught to try to find it.

"As long as it isn't you, or me. I don't want you within a hundred feet of that creature, and I don't want to have to deal with her either."

[1] This is a common reaction of innocent men and psychotic poets[2] when unexpectedly coming upon authority figures. It doesn't matter whether you've done anything wrong, the mere appearance of someone with a uniform and a badge is enough to strike a perfectly law-abiding citizen with the urge to throw themselves on the mercy of said officer and confess a litany of trivial offenses that, frankly, they would much rather not hear.

[2] My apologies to Mr. EA Poe.