Key entered Sergeant Dilly's office and was welcomed with a smug, self-satisfied smile.

"Ah, Corporal Key," the sergeant greeted. "Are you coming in to argue about the captain's new company?"

"No, sergeant," Key said, handing him a letter. "Just bringing correspondence from the captain."

The sergeant took the letter and waved for Key's dismissal. Key stood his ground.

"You are dismissed," the sergeant finally said.

"Sergeant, with your permission, I believe I will stay until you've read the letter."

Dilly broke the seal on the letter and began reading. After a few moments of silence, he abruptly slammed the letter onto his desk with a violent force. "What does the captain want with his new company's writeups?"

"You would have to take that up with that captain; I'm just following orders," Key replied levelly. "I would assume it has something to do with them being his responsibility now."

Dilly sat thoughtfully until his glare finally softened. "Yes, I suppose they are his responsibility now." He began digging through boxes of documents.

Key's legs were stiff from standing, and he began shifting his weight from one leg to the other before the sergeant placed eight stacks of paper on the desk in front of him. Each stack was tied with brown twine and had a written name on the top of each. The sergeant held up one more that hovered over the pile ominously. It had the name Eulerous Key scrawled across with disappointing penmanship.

"I'll have this last one delivered to the captain myself," Dilly said, holding the exhaustive history of Key's offenses in his hand. "You can take those and leave."

Key gathered up the documents and walked out of the door with a slight feeling of unease. What would the captain think if he read all the documented times he had gotten in trouble? Granted, most of the instances were due to his and Jory's career-long feud. It would probably be safe to say that all of Jory's writeups were because of Key. He contemplated how he was going to explain all of it to the captain when he inevitably asked. Would he tell Castor about all the pranks he and Jory played on each other? If he didn't, the captain might think that he was a troublemaker and send him back to standing watch.

Deep in thought, Key stepped into the office of investigations carrying the packets of paper. Before he had the chance to place them on his desk, he noticed a small black letter on the floor just inside the door. Castor sat staring at a coin purse on his desk as puffs of smoke diligently rose from his pipe.

"Did you know you have a foreboding-looking letter lying here on the floor?" Key asked, bending over to pick it up. He held up the black parchment sealed with red wax with the shape of a crown. "Are you expecting a letter from the king?"

Castor took the letter and turned it around in his hands. "I don't think this is from the king, but it does appear foreboding."

He cracked the seal and unfolded the black parchment. Key walked past, trying to see what kind of ink would show up on black parchment. From what he could tell, it was blank. He continued to his desk and set down the packages. "Who's it from?"

"No one," Castor said, putting the letter in his inner jacket pocket and changing the subject. "Come count these coins with me. I decided to give your plan a try. I took the liberty of borrowing a few coins from the treasury."

Key walked over to the coin purse and opened it, spilling its contents on the table. There were fifteen silver talents and a gold royal. Key counted the coins, and after he said the amount he counted, Castor directed him to place the coins back and tie the bag with a loose knot. He did so.

"Put this in your desk," Castor said, nudging the coin purse with the stem of his pipe. "As soon as our new additions come back, we are going to send Foiler to prison. I mean, on a little errand."

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The two signed for the money on a piece of paper, which the captain promptly folded and sealed. They discussed their plan as well as possible before there was a knock at the door.

"Back from training, sir," Givens reported, stepping into the office. He was breathing heavily, and he glistened with sweat.

"Very well. Send in Corporal Foiler." The captain ordered and considered Givens with narrowed eyes. "And inform my men that if they ever report to this office out of uniform or without properly bathing first, it will not go well."

After Givens had left, the captain made his desk look messy, unbuttoned the top few buttons of his uniform, and lifted a leg over the arm of his chair. Key lifted an eyebrow, but before he had a chance to ask what he was doing, a timid knock came to the door.

"Come in, come in," he said jovially.

"Captain, sir, I wasn't sure if you wanted me to bathe first before I came or if I'm supposed to report to you now," Foiler said, apprehensive to fully enter through the door's threshold.

He was a thin man with a hooked nose that gave him a hawkish look. His sandy blonde hair was still damp and messy from his efforts at the training grounds; he had not bathed.

"It's fine; just remember it for next time. I honestly forgot why I called you in," the captain said, lounging sideways in his chair. "How was sword training?"

"Corporal Logan is a taskmaster. No one likes her, sir," Foiler replied, rigid under Castor's scrutiny.

"Is she now?" Castor replied, happy for the news. "Well, that's all I needed to know. You can leave." He waited a half breath before adding, "Ah, I suppose there is something you can do for me. Do you know where the treasury is?"

"Yes, sir," Foiler acknowledged, looking more at ease than he had before.

"Good, we caught a purse-cutting street rat earlier, and I just need someone to take this stolen money to the treasury. I put it somewhere in here," the captain said, looking through his drawers and lifting papers from his disorganized desk. "Corporal, do you have the money purse?"

Key opened his drawer, pulled out the coin purse, and set it on his desk. "It's right here, sir."

"Oh good," the captain said. "Did you count it yet?"

"Not yet, sir," Key replied, trying to hide any hints of playacting from his voice. "I thought the treasury could just count it when we gave it to them."

"So, you're telling me the money in that coin purse is uncounted?" the captain reiterated, solidifying the fact.

"Correct, sir," Key said. "it's probably not that much anyway. I'm sure it will be fine."

"Very well," the captain said, turning his attention toward Foiler. "Can you take this to the Treasury? Oh, and take this," he said, producing a sealed letter, "This letter will explain where the money came from if they ask."

Key handed the coins to Foiler and noticed that he was already considering the weight of the bag. He and Castor didn't move for a long while after Foiler left. Finally, Castor then sat up in his chair, buttoned his uniform, and began organizing his desk.

"Why did you make yourself look messy before Foiler got here?" Key asked.

"Because perceptions, young Eulerous," Castor said, squaring his papers on the edge of the desk. He offered no more on the subject. "I've never been so excited to get robbed in my life. He's probably hiding around a corner looking in the purse now."

Key cleared his throat. "Captain, there's something I need to tell you."

"Captain, is it?" Castor asked, clearing crumbs off his desk. "It must be pretty serious."

"It's going to take some back story. Jory and I joined the guard at about the same time. When we were at camp, Jory planted a flower on my footlocker, and I retaliated. We've pretty much retaliated against each other, back and forth for around two years…." Key continued to explain his and Jory's history with pranking each other. The only details he left out were the part about the old fish he had purchased and his shined armor.

Castor's eyebrows were lifted in shock. "That's-"

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter!"

"Delivery from Sergeant Dilly, sir." The guard said, placing a twine-wrapped stack of papers with Key's name on top into Castor's hands. He saluted. The captain thanked him, and he left.

"I have to say, that is one of the better stories I have heard in my whole career," Castor said, gauging the thickness of Key's stack of papers. He reached under his desk and placed Jory's twine-wrapped papers next to each other.

"About the same size."

"Most of the writeups in mine are his fault, and most of the writeups in his are my fault," Key explained. "I just wanted to explain the story before mine got here."

"That is very wise of you," Castor acclaimed. "Let's return to this later. Who's next on our list?"

"Lambro is known for lying about everything," Key said, referencing a list they had made. "I'm not sure how that will help us, though."

There was a knock at the door. As soon as the captain permitted, a plump sergeant walked in, slightly out of breath. "Captain, a guard was delivering a large sum of money to the treasury, but it was less than the amount you specified."

"Ah, that would be Corporal Foiler," the captain said with mock sorrow. "Detain him, search him, and arrest him for theft."

"Yes, sir," the sergeant turned to leave.

"Sergeant," Castor said, stopping the man before he could leave. "Bring me back the money and keep this quiet for as long as you can. I'm going to see if I can't kill more birds with the same stone."