Death's Executioner

by Charlotte E. English

  ‘Yes,’ said Nuritov slowly. ‘That’s a good thought, Tasha. Do they — what do people — I mean, what do you do, as a member of such an Order? Are there duties, tasks? Was Artemo employed upon something particular?’

  ‘Or do people just show up at the Temple on ritual days and otherwise go about their lives? Maybe both. Konrad and Nanda had a lot to do.’

  Had. She shouldn’t have used the past tense. Nuritov noticed, and winced. ‘I wish we could ask Nanda,’ he said.

  ‘We can ask Madam Inshova.’

  ‘And we will. Meanwhile.’ Nuritov dragged himself out of his chair and crossed to the corner in which Tasha had discarded her bundle of possessions. ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘I, er, need somewhere to stay.’

  Nuritov responded with a look of enquiry, tinged with suspicion.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she said quickly. Trying to explain Mother Genri and Noster House could only be futile. ‘I was hoping you could… help me?’

  ‘You’re asking for help.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Tasha is here in my office as a supplicant, admitting to a problem she can’t solve without assistance and asking for help.’

  ‘I can solve it myself,’ Tasha muttered. ‘I just think you can probably solve it… better.’

  Nuritov grinned. ‘My own lodgings are… insufficient for a second person, or I could solve it on the spot. But what of Bakar House? It has room enough for twenty.’

  Tasha stirred uncomfortably in her chair. ‘Not when Konrad’s not there.’

  ‘That didn’t stop you yesterday.’

  ‘That was bravado, all right? I sat in Konrad’s chair for a while and pretended I was him. It’s not the same as moving in.’

  ‘I am fully convinced that Konrad wouldn’t mind.’

  Tasha eyed him doubtfully. ‘You think he wouldn’t?’

  ‘You know he wouldn’t. If he was here, he’d have you installed in your own room already, with Gorev and Mrs. Aristova at your beck and call.’

  Tasha grinned. ‘And he’d regret it by the end of the week.’

  ‘It’s not a long-term solution, mind,’ Nuritov cautioned. ‘The Order will probably sell or reassign the house in due time. But for now, I think you can make use of it.’

  Tasha retrieved her bundle, which felt pitifully small now she came to think of it. She hefted it as though it weighed three times as much, bestowed upon the inspector a jaunty grin, and took herself off. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Good luck with Katya.’

  ‘Back here in the morning, nine o’clock sharp,’ Nuritov called after her.

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of being late, sir,’ Tasha sang back, and guffawed.

  Chapter Six

  Tasha considered entering Bakar House her favourite way (through the back window in Konrad’s study, ridiculously easy to break into). Or possibly via her second favourite route (glide in through the servants’ door, past the kitchens, and up the stairs; nobody down there was too likely to challenge her anymore). But both of these would be cowardly, wouldn’t they? And she would need Gorev and Mrs. Aristova’s support if she proposed to stay beyond her usual short visit.

  So she went up to the front door, and rapped upon it with the heavy cast-iron knocker. She stood shivering a little — she should have dined on the way over, too late now — and rehearsed her speech as she waited for the butler to answer.

  It seemed to take a long time.

  Then came the familiar crisp, echoing footsteps approaching, and the rattle of the door opening.

  ‘Gorev,’ said Tasha at once. ‘I—’

  ‘Miss Tasha,’ said he, with… relief? ‘Come in.’

  Tasha obeyed, wondering. ‘Something gone awry?’ she said, as the butler closed the heavy door upon the fading light behind her.

  ‘No, miss, nothing like that. Only there’s a visitor here for Mr. Savast, and seeing as he’s not expected back yet—’ Here he paused, and bent upon her a look of stern comprehension which Tasha did not at all like, ‘—I hardly know what to tell her. The matter seems quite urgent.’

  ‘What’s it about?’ Tasha set her bundle down in a discreet corner, aware that Gorev missed nothing. He did not comment on it.

  ‘A recent case, I understand,’ said Gorev, and waited.

  He didn’t add that he knew, somehow, that Tasha had taken over this “hobby” of his master’s, but that was obvious enough. Had someone overheard her conversation with Nuritov?

  Just how much did the servants of Bakar House know about their master, anyway?

  ‘Er,’ said Tasha. ‘I might be able to help there, yes.’

  Gorev bowed. ‘It’s Ekaterina Inshova, miss. She’s in the best parlour.’

  ‘Interesting,’ said Tasha, and took herself off to the parlour at once. She had vanity enough to feel brief regret over her shabby appearance: she did not make a good Konrad substitute, certainly not for holding an audience in the best parlour.

  Ah, well. No quantity of fancy suits ever helped anybody solve a mystery, or dispatch a killer either.

  Katya Inshova sat in the chair Nanda usually occupied, ignoring the tray of refreshments at her elbow, for her thoughts were elsewhere. Tasha had to say her name twice before she looked up, and then she appeared startled by the interruption.

  ‘But where is Mr. Savast?’ she said.

  ‘He is… indisposed,’ said Tasha glibly. ‘But perhaps I can help?’

  She received a look so doubtful, she wished she had taken a moment to change first. Not that she possessed anything much better than what she already wore. ‘You?’ said her reluctant guest. ‘Who are you?’

  The words were rude, but spoken more in puzzlement. Not unjustly. ‘You could think of me as Mr. Savast’s replacement,’ she answered. ‘My name is Tasha.’

  She was gambling on the extent of Katya Inshova’s knowledge. The woman must know of Konrad’s real identity, or what was she doing here? And as the head of The Shandrigal’s Order, it made sense that she would.

  ‘Replacement?’ said Katya, by no means reassured. ‘I did not know there had been any change.’

  ‘It’s of recent date.’

  ‘Does Diana know?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tasha quickly.

  She was not believed.

  ‘Listen,’ she said, cutting across whatever objection Katya Inshova intended to raise next. ‘There’s a killer on the loose, so how about we talk all this over later once the case is solved? Did you come here with information? Inspector Nuritov was just on his way to see you.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Katya, but hesitantly. ‘Possibly. In fact, I came with — questions.’

  ‘Answers would be better, but ask away.’

  ‘I understand that my two missing Order members are deceased.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid they are.’

  ‘Please explain to me the condition in which they were found.’

  She sat, straight-backed and silent, while Tasha related the particulars of both death scenes. Nothing appeared to shock her; either that or she hid her feelings perfectly. When Tasha had finished, she said: ‘Their eyes were… taken? Not merely blinded, but absent?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She nodded. ‘And what of Irinanda Falenia?’

  ‘I…’ Tasha paused, taken aback by the abrupt shift in topic. ‘I’m sorry, what about her?’

  ‘She, too, is missing, and I now begin to fear—’

  ‘Oh!’ said Tasha. ‘No! It’s not the same thing at all. Nanda’s fine.’

  ‘Is she?’ said Katya Inshova, and stared imperiously at Tasha. ‘How is it that you know?’

  ‘Well— I— I know where she is, and why, and it’s nothing to do with whatever happened to Artemo and Vak.’

  ‘You had better tell me where she is.’

  ‘I can’t tell you,’ she said stoutly. ‘Nanda would not want me to.’

  ‘She could not wish you to keep secrets from me.’

  See, there was the problem.
Tasha didn’t know. Would Nanda want her to tell the truth to this one person, if no one else? What if Katya Inshova could help, somehow?

  ‘I collect that it has something to do with Mr. Savast’s “indisposition”,’ said Katya coolly.

  ‘Erm.’

  ‘You may not be aware that her spirit-companion, Weveroth, arrived at the Temple this morning in a state of some distress. Typically, such an animal displays this kind of behaviour when their bonded companion has died, and so you will understand my concern. If you know what has become of Irinanda Falenia, you will tell me.’

  Tasha swallowed. Dead? Was Nanda dead? She could be. After all, who expected to march into the Deathlands and come out alive? Shoving down a spasm of fear — she hadn’t felt that in a while, what a pleasure to be reacquainted with the feeling — she said staunchly: ‘Nanda isn’t dead. I would put money on it.’

  Katya Inshova surged out of her chair and stood towering over Tasha, her composure vanished. ‘Then where is she?’

  And Tasha thought she’d got the easiest job of the lot. Stay in Ekamet. Talk The Malykt into accepting her as the new Malykant. Solve any mysteries that came up, while evading the notice of people like Diana Valentina. Dispatch a killer or two, hopefully she would still get to do that part. And bang the drums in triumph when Nanda returned with Konrad. Above all, keep a low profile.

  She’d reckoned without Katya Inshova.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ll make you a deal. Tell me everything you’ve got about Rodion Artemo and Timof Vak, and I’ll share what I know about Nanda’s whereabouts.’ She wanted to add don’t tell Diana, but that sounded so unprofessional, and besides it was too late for Diana to do anything about it anyway. Wasn’t it? Hopefully.

  Katya took a breath, and sat, and nodded once. ‘You may begin.’

  ‘How about we get the case stuff out of the way first?’ said Tasha. Once she shared the crazy extent of Nanda’s mad plan, she doubted Katya would have much thought to spare for bone-knives and missing eyeballs anymore.

  ‘Very well,’ said Katya, with a trace of annoyance. ‘Rodion Artemo and Timof Vak were both Shandral, as I gather you know. Rodion had been a member for many years, but Timof was quite new to us. They were both part of a sector of the Order that we call Warders. Irinanda is also a member of that faction. Their purpose is to watch for… threats, disturbances, in the fabric of the living world. The recent trouble with the malefic is an example.’

  ‘Oh, that’s dead, by the way,’ said Tasha quickly. ‘Just so you know.’

  ‘You are certain of that, too, are you?’

  Tasha nodded. ‘I was there. Anyway, carry on.’

  ‘What—’

  ‘I’ll tell you about it in a minute.’

  Katya’s eyes widened. She had not guessed, then, that Konrad and Nanda’s joint disappearance had anything to do with the malefic. ‘Mr. Artemo and Mr. Vak had both been out of communication with the Order for weeks,’ she continued. ‘As I indicated to Inspector Nuritov. They did not arrive for scheduled meetings among the Warders, and those sent, after a time, to enquire with them at home found them absent. They had not been sent on any errand by the Order.

  ‘About two hours ago, I was given this.’ Katya Inshova held up a grubby letter, wrinkled as though it had endured long travel in poor conditions. ‘It is a report from Mr. Vak, dispatched from Marja. He says that he… sensed a disturbance, of alarming enough a nature that he followed it. My thoughts went first to the malefic, as you may imagine, but I do not think it has anything to do with that at all.’

  ‘No,’ Tasha agreed. ‘Far too early.’

  Katya nodded. ‘And he speaks of a— man, though not an ordinary mortal. Someone who had gone beyond the borders of life, and also of death. Someone who had killed, and killed, for he wore those deaths like a mantle — fanciful language, I know, but Mr. Vak was not a fanciful man. And he offered me a concrete comparison with a concept I am of course familiar with. He suggested that this man’s aura was not dissimilar to that of the Malykant, but he did not get close enough to this person to confirm his real identity.’

  Tasha’s breath stopped. ‘Wha— no. It wasn’t Konrad that he saw, if that’s what you were thinking.’

  ‘The notion had crossed my mind.’

  ‘If I understand you rightly,’ said Tasha coldly, ‘you came here expecting to find an out of control Malykant, fresh from a random killing spree. Did Diana put that idea into your head? Was it she who told you Konrad had snapped?’

  Katya Inshova held up both hands in a pacifying gesture. ‘It was not she, or not precisely. It has happened before, you know. More than once. Or why do you imagine we would assign one of our most brilliant members to the guardianship of the Malykant?’

  ‘She’s done fine work, if you mean Nanda. There’s nothing wrong with Konrad.’ Honesty compelled her to add, ‘Well, nothing much. He’s a bit frayed around the edges, but who isn’t?’

  ‘Tasha,’ said Katya seriously. ‘Where is Mr. Savast?’

  ‘He certainly hasn’t been swanning around in Marja lately. Ask anybody. And he definitely wasn’t available to be killing those two men, however similar a method it might appear—’

  ‘It is quite similar, isn’t it?’ Katya mused. ‘Those knives — they were bone?’

  ‘Human bone. Yes. But it wasn’t Konrad.’ She laughed, taking herself by surprise as much as Katya. ‘Or do you think the manner of his madness has taken a creative bent? Did he do those pretty engravings himself?’ Tasha took out the knife she’d retained, and all but threw it at Katya. ‘Take a look.’

  Katya examined the knife in silence. ‘I think it’s time you told me what has really happened to Mr. Savast,’ she said, without commenting on the weapon.

  Faced with the suspicions now mounting up against Konrad, Tasha revised her ideas as to how much to tell. So wrong, that he should have to be defended against such allegations. Who that knew Konrad could imagine he would run rampant like that, and kill without discrimination? But that was the problem. None of them had taken the time to get to know Konrad, not really. Probably they assumed he wouldn’t last long in the role — few of them did — so why bother? Put Nanda on the job, listen to her reports from time to time, and otherwise forget it.

  Diana had done the same. Kept her distance, so she could order Konrad’s replacement in due time without undue struggle. Sound enough as a policy, Tasha was forced to acknowledge, given a job like hers; but the consequence was that she was clueless. They all were.

  So Tasha told The Shandrigal’s chief handmaiden everything she knew. Not just about Konrad’s recent fate, but everything. About Konrad himself, about the ways in which he went about his duties. How he felt about them. His friendship with Nuritov and herself. How he felt about Nanda, embarrassingly obvious as it had always been. How he felt about Diana’s easy ordering of his “retirement”. What he’d done about the malefic, and what Tasha herself had done, and where Nanda had gone.

  ‘So you see,’ she said, with some venom, when she’d finished her lengthy recital. ‘This is not a crazed serial killer we are dealing with here, whatever he might sometimes say about himself. He’s as mortal as it gets, easily as confused as the rest of you, and no more a stone-cold monster than you are. I don’t think he was ever like that at all.’

  ‘He has certainly earned your loyalty.’

  Tasha rolled her eyes. ‘Not easily done, granted, for I detest most people. Including you at this moment. Konrad isn’t your killer. Honestly, the person you’d more have to worry about where that’s concerned is me. I’m the type to go maverick and kill people just for the fun of it. Konrad… no. Just no.’

  Katya Inshova had gone from suspicious and wary to thoughtful, which seemed like a good thing, though Tasha didn’t altogether enjoy the scrutiny she was receiving. ‘And you are our new Malykant, hm?’ said she.

  ‘For now. I’m sort of hoping Nanda will be bringing Konrad back.’

  ‘Tasha,’ said Katya, and
her tone had changed. Sympathy and understanding had crept in. ‘You must realise — I am sorry to tell you, but it is not possible for her to bring Konrad back.’

  ‘She’s not planning to attempt necromancy on him, or anything like that. She’s got a plan.’

  ‘And what is that plan?’

  ‘She had more sense than to bore me with the details. Don’t worry though, I’m sure it’s a good one.’

  Silence fell between them, a silence which Tasha expected Katya to break. But wherever the woman had gone in her mind, she did not seem to want to share her thoughts.

  ‘You can tell Diana if you want to,’ Tasha said after a while. Silences always made her nervous. ‘She can’t stop Nanda now.’

  ‘You imagine she will want to?’ said Katya, snapping out of it.

  ‘She wanted Konrad gone.’

  ‘I don’t believe that was ever what she wanted,’ said Katya gently. ‘Not as you imagine. But let us set the matter aside. If Irinanda is indeed wandering the Deathlands, she may need assistance coming back, and the Order may be able to provide it.’ She rose from her chair.

  ‘Wait,’ said Tasha. ‘Was that everything? About Artemo, and Vak.’

  ‘Yes. The Order can do nothing for them now. That duty, I gather, lies with you.’

  Great. Tasha planted herself in the doorway, talking fast. ‘Was there anything else useful in that letter of Vak’s? Why did he send it? And why did you ask about the eyes?’

  ‘He writes that he was afraid,’ said Katya. ‘He was on the point of journeying home, but he had not succeeded in answering the questions that plagued him, or in eliminating his quarry. The man had… disappeared, leaving Mr. Vak with a sense of personal danger. That is why he chose to send a written report, in case he did not have the chance to make it in person.’

  ‘He was followed home,’ Tasha guessed.

  ‘So it appears. I have received no reports from Mr. Artemo, but I must guess that he engaged himself on a similar errand. With, alas, the same result.’

  ‘So that man, who or whatever he is, might still be loose in Ekamet.’