24 Ymiden 721
Continued from here
When the time came, Oram returned to the Dustin house and knocked at the door. Mina Dustin, Executive Director of the Egilrun Workshop for Women’s Worries, opened the door and greeted him with an impassive expression and matter of fact: “Mr. Mednix” before showing him in, through a small but cozy anteroom back into some sort of parlor or sitting room. The house was a decent size and well-appointed, much more so than anything Oram had ever lived in, though not and grand and opulent as, say, Smooglenuff Manor. It was the sort of house his sister-in-law would probably call “respectable” or “affluent”. The traveler wondered briefly what the Dustins did for a living.
The sitting room contained about a half-dozen women generally looking to be Mina’s age and older, all nicely-dressed, or at least what Oram took to be nicely-dressed. In addition to the nice clothes, they all wore the serious and vaguely aggrieved manner the traveler had learned to associate with “concerned citizens”, the sort who often had strong, well-voiced opinions about where the town council should allow immigrants and itinerants to live and work. As Oram entered, they regarded him as they might some barely-tolerated exception to zoning restrictions. Over this, they maintained a veneer of civility and genteelness that only added to the tension in the room.
”This is Ranger Oram Mednix,” announced Mina, as she indicated a chair for Oram to stand awkwardly next to. ”He graciously came tonight to address our concerns and answer our questions concerning the activities of the Rangers at their new headquarters here in Egilrun.” She inflected the word ‘graciously’ with one of those tones people used when they actually mean something less charitable. The hunter stifled the urge to scowl as she did so. The Executive Director then seated herself, and looked at her guest with the same look as the other members. Oram mentally dubbed it the “EWWW Look”.
Oram cleared his throat nervously as he looked around the sitting room. Why couldn’t Elliott do this? he thought unhappily as he scanned at the mistrustful faces trained on him. Or that Sh'Ron person? Everybody seemed to like that guy, and at least some of the ladies here looked like the sort that might swoon if he so much as spoke to them. But no, this fell to him.
Oram started to introduce himself, but stopped when he remembered that Mina had already done so. ”I came tonight,” he began instead, ”after your Executive Director here came to me with a bunch of concerns regarding the Rangers and what they were up to here in Egilrun. I want to start by telling you more about what we’re actually doing here, and then addressing some of the rumors that have apparently been spreading about us.”
The faces remained set in their mistrust. No one smiled or even nodded an acknowledgment of what the hunter had said. This is going great, he thought sourly, but plugged on: ”The Rangers on Scalvoris, as they are in many places in Idalos, exist mainly to secure the frontiers and wilds that lie outside the settlements that people inhabit. We monitor wildlife, support the elements in their patrols for bandits, investigate rumors of monsters-”
”We are aware, Mr. Mednix,” cut in Mina Dustin, ”of the Rangers’ official duties and activities. Our concern is with irregular activities, as detailed in our flier. Such things as disappearances of people last seen on your premises-”
”We hear your Secretary disappeared,” chimed in one of the other ladies. ”One of your own officers! Walked unsuspecting into that compound was never seen again.” The others looked at her sharply, as if she had spoken out of turn, but did not dispute her, nor even seem to disapprove. One even nodded.
The scowl festering in Oram’s soul came to his face at last. He was probably supposed to be all smiles and sunshine, but at this point he had little of either to spare. ”If you mean Undersecretary Beula Donalee, yes, she has disappeared,” he acknowledged. ”But I understand that she was last seen in Darbyton, where she lived and worked. As far as I know, she’s never even been here. I myself have never seen her here in Egilrun.”
The lady, unmollified, pressed on. ”And what about the missing children? Like that cabin boy?”
Oram shook his head. ”He was found just this morning, trying to stow away on a different ship. He is now back on his own ship.” Probably getting lashes he finished silently. The affair had ended well enough for the Rangers; not so much for the boy himself. ”I don’t know of other missing children. If you have such information, I’d like to hear it. Otherwise, I’ll ask around myself.”
The last assurance was more than just a bit of bravado. Oram had helped Balthazar Black find a kidnapper in Almund, one who was doing terrible things to children. He had stabbed the man through the back and killed him. Anyone harming children in Egilrun deserved no better.
The ladies of EWWW were unimpressed. They followed up with more challenging, not-technically-accusatory questions about other matters, some of which Oram could speak to, others he could not. The assurances and offers he had formulated earlier that trial were in tatters before they even had a chance to come out of his mouth. Exasperated, he wondered what Jim or Hop would do if they were here. Probably stand in the back with crossed arms watching him make a fool of himself.
But just after that bitter thought, Oram did have a useful idea. ”You didn’t really come here to answer their questions,” reminded imaginary Jim; “you’re here to answer your questions.Don’t just try to meet their challenges; try to find out what’s behind them.” That wasn't entirely true; he *had* initially come here hoping to address the Egilrun workshop womens' worries; however, once he saw Pattis leave the house, his concerns had shifted. Mentally rallying behind this shift in focus, Oram waited to listen to the next question.
