Tenoch-Ling

“What is it?”

“Numbers,” Tan-Pak replied meekly.

“I see it. But what they represent?”

Tan-Pak scratched his old parched skin. He seemed lost. Tenoch-Ling knew this look. A memory loss has eaten more of the geezer’s mind. She found Tan-Pak’s number-crunching talent unique and losing him would hurt her business. She needed Charcot to come up with an elixir to keep the mathematician alive, and his mind sharp.

“Next time you do the math, ensure to record what’s it about, understood?”

Tan-Pak nodded.

“Off you go and, call Yamil here.”

“Forernero,” he muttered as he walked out. “Spirits of the Forest will…”

She got nervous when the head of the guards hasn’t shown up outright. Tan-Pak forgot again! But no. He arrived almost a wheel’s turn later. Tenoch -Ling fumed.

“Mayor,” Yamil said in that stern, grating voice.

“You’re late.”

“I had to oversee something. These villagers of yours aren’t very good at following orders.”

“It’s your job to make them good.”

“Some qualities can’t be taught.”

She agreed with him but said nothing to that. There was no value in indulging the bastard. All he needed to know was his job. This was the reason why she didn’t want him in the council. Men like Yamil could get out of control too easily. His background seemed even shadier than Charcot’s. No, nothing could be shadier than Charcot.

“We have a situation here.”

Her cold tone deepened creases on his face. Suddenly, a different set of eyes watched her. Such a transformation made her uneasy, but she knew better than showing any sign of weakness. Amongst the predators, fear and flaws mean death. Her father taught her well.

“It’s Sul-Tizoca.”

“Do you want me to kill him?”

She paused, considering this option, but the move could lead to open war with the hunters. An over hundred fools who have refused her offer to join the Cape Town guards. For now, the town’s hunters were tougher than her guards save for Yamil, of course. But the question was – how many hunters can this man kill before going down? She wasn’t Tan-Pak, but she knew that the odds didn’t favor him.

“No. I have something else planned for him.”

An old contingency plan to deal with Sul-Tizoca if he refused to join the council. Now the time seemed perfect to make use of it.

“Just keep an eye on him and if he makes a move against Giliad, then arrest him, but don’t kill. Understood?”

“Yes,” Yamil answered. He walked to the window, turning his back to her. “So, what do you plan to do about the royalblood bastard?”

“Don’t worry about him. I have it under control,” she paused for a moment. “Ah, and the innkeeper. He might bolt.”

“I’ll send orders to not let Zuma out of the town.”

“Good. You can go now.”