Mageborn The Line of Illeniel by Michael Manning (top novels of all time TXT) 📗

It hadn’t occurred to me that the bank might be hard to get into.

“Banks are for the rich. If you’re not a member of the club they’ll have you locked up faster than you can blink. Why are you here anyway? Not that it’s any of my business,” Cyhan asked.

“I’ve got a war to fight. For that I’ll need all the money I can lay my hands on.”

“We’ll see,” he replied.

I had no plans to go away empty handed. I stepped up to the doors and a uniformed fellow held one open for me. I looked back at Penny and our new ‘friend’, “Come on.” They followed me in. The interior was richly appointed. Vaulted ceilings and dark wood greeted my eyes in every direction. Unsure where to go I walked up to the man at the nearest desk, he seemed very busy with something he was writing, “Excuse me...”

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