Michael Manning - The Line of Illeniel

After a long moment he looked up, “Can I help you?” He had the look of someone supremely disinterested in the world around him. Or maybe it was just me.

“Yes, my name is Mordecai Illeniel. I’m here to check into my accounts,” I tried to give the impression of honesty and sincerity as I spoke, not that it mattered.

The fellow looked up at me; his spectacles made his eyes seem twice as large as normal. “I don’t recall seeing you before. Did you bring your account book?”

I was already uncertain, “I don’t have one. I only just arrived in Albamarl and I didn’t even know about my inheritance until yesterday, surely someone can help me here?”

“You’ll need to talk to Mister Easley, the account manager. He can help you,” he responded.

“Excellent. Where can I find him?”

“Check in over at the desk there,” he pointed to a desk in one corner where another man was working. I might have said they were twins, but this unfortunate fellow was also bald. I walked over to him.

I addressed him politely, “Excuse me, I’m told I need to see a Mister Easley to discuss the accounts I’ve inherited.”

He glanced at me, “Certainly. Name please…” He held a pen over a blank form.

“Mordecai Illeniel, son of Tyndal Illeniel and current Count di’Cameron. I think I may have more than one account.” I tried to look important and patient at the same time. I probably failed at both.

“Very good sir, how does next Tuesday sound, say around one in the afternoon?” He didn’t bother to look at me as he asked; clearly the assumption was that any time they could fit me in would be good for me.

“No, I’m sorry. I won’t be in the capital then. I need to see someone today.”

“Mister Easley isn’t in today. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait regardless,” he answered. His face gave away nothing but his aura flashed with something I might have called ‘smug self-importance’. Needless to say it didn’t sit well with me.

“Is the bank closed today?” I asked mildly.

“No sir, I think you can see that,” he replied bemused.

“Then people can withdraw money, deposit money, or conduct other business here today?” It was a question but I was really just setting the stage for my next remark. My temper was rising rapidly.

“Of course.” I could almost see his thoughts as he pondered whether I might be unstable. He wasn’t far from the truth there.

“As best as I can ascertain; I have money here, quite likely in more than one account. I need access to it now. Since you are currently open for business I suggest you find someone who can help me,” I tried to keep a calm tone but my tension was seeping out.

“I’ve already told you sir, you’ll have to make an appointment with Mister Easley, and he’s not here today,” the look of indifference on his face was calculated to increase my aggravation.

I leaned over the desk until our faces were barely a foot apart, “Then I suggest you fetch your manager or someone who can handle my business… today.” I kept my tone level but with my mind I carefully applied pressure to the back leg of his chair. Doing magic without using words is more difficult but I had energy to spare and nothing better to do with it today. As the last word passed my lips the leg snapped and he fell unceremoniously to the floor. I looked down on him as he sprawled on the floor, “I think you need to replace your cheap furniture.”

He got up quickly and brushed himself off. Without a word he left, presumably to find someone with more seniority to ‘deal’ with me. I glanced at Penny and I could see worry on her face. Most likely she didn’t approve of my methods. Cyhan’s expression gave away nothing of his thoughts; he might as well have been a statue.

A moment later the weaselly little clerk returned, “If you’ll follow me, Mister Aston has kindly agreed to talk to you today.” He said it as if they were doing me a favor. I became even more determined to knock a few people down a notch. I had a feeling Penny would be very unhappy with me by the time we left today.

He led us past a row of desks and through a door. From there we went up a large staircase until we reached the third floor, the bank was impressively large. By the looks of things the offices of the higher-ups in the bank were on this floor. A gold plate on the outside of the door proclaimed it to be the office of ‘Mister Eagin Aston, Vice-President’. I wasn’t sure what the word ‘president’ meant, but it sounded important, especially if it had a ‘vice’. He opened the door for us and let us in.

Inside a red faced and rather corpulent man sat behind the biggest desk I had ever encountered. It was built of some dark red wood and polished until is shone like glass. He looked up at me, “If you would kindly leave your servants outside perhaps I can help educate you better about your financial situation here at the bank.” Translation, Cyhan scared the crap out of him. I couldn’t blame him for that.

Cyhan walked out without being asked but I could see Penny fuming inside. I might have corrected the man’s misapprehension about her, but I had a feeling I might not want her to see our negotiations. “Please step outside if you will Miss Cooper,” I commanded solemnly. The look in her eyes warned me there would be dire repercussions later, but she went anyway. It was almost funny but I was too irritated with the bankers already to find it humorous. After they left and shut the door I took a seat across the desk from Mister Aston.

“I am told you claim to be the heir of both Tyndal Illeniel and Miles di’Cameron. Is that correct?” his voice held a hint of doubt.

“I am,” I took off both of the signet rings I wore, one of Illeniel and one of the Camerons and placed them on the desk in front of him.

He looked them over carefully then spoke, “These appear genuine, though they do not serve to validate your claim.”

I could tell he was going to be difficult but I held my temper, “As I’m sure you know I gave fealty to King Edward just yesterday. Surely you do not take our sovereign for a fool?”

“No of course not, but I still have to properly verify your credentials. If I simply handed money out to anyone that walked in claiming to be this person or that the bank would hardly be a safe place to keep such things. For example, I will need to know your lineage… so I can be sure there are no other heirs with a better claim to the accounts you wish to access.” He projected an aura of calm assurance.

I took a moment to explain my line of descent from both since I figured he did have at least one valid argument there. It took me a few minutes but eventually I had told him all the pertinent details. He nodded at me sympathetically, “A very interesting tale and I do believe you… honestly I do. However, I will require a personal statement from the Duke of Lancaster regarding your right to inherit Miles di’Cameron’s account. Regarding Tyndal Illeniel’s account I’ll need an affidavit from your adoptive parents corroborating your story and a waiver from the King himself to release those funds. I’m sure you understand all of this will take some time.” He spread his hands as if to show me he was unable to do more.

I leaned back in the chair and put my feet on his desk. I was done being polite. “You understand that my father was a wizard, don’t you?” I asked him.

“Of course, though I’m not sure how that applies…,” he gave me an irritated look and stared pointedly at my boots. “I’d appreciate it if you took your footwear off of my desk; it is a rather expensive piece of furniture.”

I ignored his request, “How many wizards are left in Lothion do you think, Mister Aston?”

“None, besides yourself, and if you leave your dirty boots on my desk any longer you may find yourself waiting considerably longer to access those accounts,” his face had colored and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at me.