Shade had narrowed his list of targets down to half a dozen and presented his plan to the boss. Leonidas agreed and urged him to get on with it. That he hadn’t offered even passing suggestions to improve the plot pleased Shade immensely. He knew the boss trusted him despite his – how did Domina put it? – obnoxious personality. But it didn’t hurt to get a reminder every now and then. Jax and Rondo had been thrilled to remain on the ship and let him do the work. After the forest, Rondo especially had had his fill of danger. If that was the way he felt, he’d joined the wrong cadre.
At the edge of the tents, Shade pushed all irrelevant thoughts out of his mind. He had a mission and distractions might prove fatal. It was a useful trick and after a few deep breaths he was ready. The first target was easy: the Water Clan guy that had the argument with the Sun Clan fellow on Shade’s first visit. Shade needed to get a couple things first.
He’d avoided the main street up until now, if you wanted to call a straight gap between tents that ran all the way to the tower a street. But today he merged with the flow of people and strode confidently toward the city’s main market. The locals preferred curved daggers, so his straight blades would be a dead giveaway that the killer wasn’t a nomad. Shade couldn’t have that.
It was a five-minute walk to the market and he quickly spotted a weapon merchant’s tent. Daggers and swords, all of them curved with wide blades, covered a single table. A man in an unmarked robe sitting on a three-legged stool rose as he approached.
“Need a weapon, sir?” the merchant asked.
The delay between the man speaking and the spell translating it wore on his nerves, but Jax assured him there was no way around it.
“A new dagger if it’s not too costly,” Shade said.
“I have the finest and cheapest weapons in all of Tower City. Please look, I’m sure we can come to a deal.”
Shade made a show of looking over three of the weapons before settling on a ten-inch curved blade with a plain bone hilt. Any of them would have done, but he didn’t want to stand out by not fussing and haggling. It seemed to be a hobby among these people to argue over the price of everything. They were worse than the merchants back home, which was something Shade thought impossible.
“How much for this one?” he asked.
“Ah, an excellent choice, my friend.” No doubt whatever Shade had chosen would have been an excellent choice. “Fifty chits for that one.”
During his earlier scouting missions Shade had snuck into an empty tent and stolen a coffer filled with the little clay coins. He could afford fifty easily, but again it wouldn’t do to accept right away.
“Thirty,” Shade countered.
The merchant clutched his heart as though he was about to collapse. “You try to slay me, sir. Forty, for the sake of my children.”
“Thirty-five. Wouldn’t want the little ones getting fat.”
The merchant laughed and beamed at Shade. “A deal, sir. I and my children thank you.”
Shade counted out the ceramic disks and slid them over to the merchant who bowed over them before scraping them into a square box.
With his weapon hidden under his robe, Shade made his way deeper into the city, angling toward the Sun Clan’s area. The second item he needed would be trickier to acquire, but it was absolutely necessary for his plan to work.
His luck held and he found the area largely deserted as the clan spent most of their time patrolling the city on the lookout for criminals. They should have left a few more people in their own part of town, but he wasn’t going to complain. Like most people with power, the Sun Clan probably figured no one had the guts to do anything in their neighborhood. Shade had met plenty of powerful people over the years who thought that way. Most of them were dead now.
After fifteen minutes of searching, Shade found what he wanted, a length of clothesline left unattended. He walked past and snatched a red-marked robe, stuffing it quickly under his own robe and making it look like he’d developed a sudden pot belly. Unintentional though it was, the addition only added to his disguise.
Now to find somewhere to change.
He lucked into a spot only minutes later. An empty outhouse provided privacy if not comfort and he soon had his stolen robe on over his plain one. The heat seemed to double instantly and sweat broke out on his back, sticking his under robe to his skin. If he didn’t get this done soon, he’d end up passing out from dehydration.
Calm and quick, Shade made his way back to the well where the Water Clan member had argued with the Sun Clan member. If he was anything like the people back home, the Water Clan guy would have complained about his treatment to everyone he knew. Shade counted on that. He also counted on his patsy patrolling the city alone. He’d trailed the man for two days to make sure of it. Couldn’t very well frame a guy with a good alibi after all.
When he reached the open area around the well, a line of six people stood waiting for a turn to fill their canteens or water skins. Shade would happily settle for a couple dippers to drink. The line shuffled forward slowly, until the woman ahead of him stepped up.
The Water Clan member looked into the well and shook his head. “The level’s dropped too much. You’ll need to go to one of the other wells. This one needs six hours to refill.”
The woman grumbled, but soon moved off. The father and son behind him followed her and soon Shade and his mark were alone in the clearing.
Shade staggered forward and fell to his knees. “Please, I don’t think I can make it. Just a couple swallows?”
The Water Clan member sneered at Shade. “High and mighty Sun Clan warrior can’t make it a quarter mile to the next well? Pitiful. I suppose I can’t have you dying in front of me.”
He turned to fill the bucket from whatever remained in the well.
The moment he turned away, Shade lunged, slapped his left hand across the man’s mouth, and dragged the dagger across his throat. He’d done it so many times over the years, the motions were engraved on his memory.
The man fought for a few seconds, but Shade controlled him, always being careful to keep from getting any blood on his stolen robe. When he’d bled out, Shade dropped him to the ground.
“Hey! You there!”
He turned to see a man in an unmarked robe standing at the edge of the clearing. He was hunched over and leaned on a cane. This might work to Shade’s advantage.
Without a word Shade sprinted out of the clearing toward the Sun Clan’s area. The old man would never be able to keep up. All Shade had to do now was plant the bloody knife in the tent he hid behind a couple days ago.
No, not in it. No one would be that stupid. He’d bury it behind the tent, good enough to be convincing, but not so good that anyone searching would have trouble finding the murder weapon.
He’d made a good start, but there was much left to do.
Just as the tent city had open areas for wells, markets, and pretty much every other thing you could think of, they also had an area called the Circle of Justice. Shade kept his distance, just another face in the large crowd that had gathered to watch the Sun Clan warrior he framed face his trial and execution. Shade kept his attention on one knot of people a little angrier than the rest. It was made up of members of the Water Clan, including a very angry young man who glared daggers at the Sun Clan gathered as far as they could get from the Water Clan.
Shade grinned behind his face covering. The next phase in his plan crystallized in his mind. After the trial, revenge would be a dish best served hot. A murmur ran through the gathered nomads. One of the groups parted and the Sun Clan murderer was dragged into the clearing, his arms and legs bound in heavy rope. Behind him came four older nomads, their faces bare and solemn. These were the clan elders that ran the city. Each wore a robe entirely woven from thread dyed in their clan’s color.
“People of Tower City,” the elder in Sun Clan red said. “A horrible crime has been committed in our community. One of our water monitors has been brutally murdered.”
; “By your clansman!” the young man shouted.
“We have spoken with Karn at length,” the elder said. He seemed willing to overlook the young man’s outburst. Wise, by showing sympathy he would earn some goodwill. “He was on patrol when the attack happened. Alone.”
“So you have no one to speak in his defense!” the son said.
“Please, Atar,” the water elder said. “Let him speak, then you may have your say. Your father wouldn’t want you to put on such a display, not even for him.”
The Sun Clan elder nodded toward his Water Clan counterpart. “No, no one can speak for him. Though given where he was last seen, it’s not possible for him to have made the trip to where the murder happened. We will not rest until the true murderer is found, but Karn could not be responsible.”
One of the Sun Clan warriors drew his dagger and cut the bound man free. Karn rubbed his wrists and stood. He stared at the sand, but to Shade, the tension and anger in his body were obvious.
And he wasn’t the only one. It looked like all the Water Clan could do to restrain Atar.
“Would anyone like to speak?” the Sun Clan elder looked over at his three companions.
The Earth Clan and the Shadow Clan elders both bowed their heads.
“I would like to thank the Sun Clan for their handling of this matter,” the Water Clan elder said. “I have listened to all the interrogations and found no fault with their honor when dealing with one of their own. The Water Clan accepts Karn’s innocence and will do all it can to aid in the search for the true killer.”
“Well spoken, old friend,” the Sun Clan elder said. “We all stand as equals in this city and the death of any of us is a wound to every clan, but an innocent man must not be made to suffer for the acts of another. The true killer will be found and will face justice.”
“You wouldn’t know justice if it punched you in the face!” Atar shouted before turning and stalking off. Four others followed him a moment later.
Shade melted away from the gathering and fell in twenty yards behind the Water Clan members. The other four caught up quickly to Atar and they started talking. Shade was too far away to hear what was said, but assuming they were all Atar’s age he could guess. Probably lots of talk about payback. Hopefully, anyway.
A few minutes later they reached the Water Clan’s neighborhood and Atar’s group ducked into an open tent. It had a sign outside with some of the squiggles that passed for writing among these people. Jax’s spell didn’t allow Shade to read the words, but the smell of fry bread and beer wafting out told Shade everything he needed to know. They’d gone for a drink.
Perfect. If there was one thing that made revenge easier it was alcohol. Now to get them good and riled up. He ducked into the tent and sighed in relief. Getting out of the sun knocked about twenty degrees off the temperature. But a new problem presented itself. Everyone had their hoods down. Shade’s skin was entirely too pale and his features too fine to pass for a local.
He shrugged and settled for pulling down his scarf so he could drink. Ambling across the common room to a makeshift bar with a trio of barrels behind it, Shade took a seat on one of the three-legged stools in front of the bar. Atar and his friends were drinking deeply and muttering amongst themselves. He’d give them a couple more rounds to get properly lubricated before making his move.
“Another round!” Atar called.
The barman dipped mugs into the barrels and set them one after another on the bar. Shade reached into his pouch and placed half a dozen chits on the bar. “This round’s on me.”
The barman glanced at him, shrugged, and pocketed the money. “Drinks are up!”
One of the men rose and came to the bar. When he started to pay, the barman shook his head and pointed at Shade. The young man glanced at Shade who nodded.
“Why buy our drinks?” the young man asked.
Shade nodded toward Atar. “I witnessed that travesty of justice earlier. Your friend isn’t the only one that’s been victimized by the Sun Clan. That plus a show of respect for the dead are why I paid. Please enjoy and offer my condolences to Atar.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Shade nodded again and return to his warm, bitter brew. Thank the gods he didn’t have to drink this crap on a regular basis. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to down more than a few mouthfuls before his mark got curious.
When the third round was called for Shade had drunk half a mug. This time Atar himself came to collect. He leaned on the bar and looked at Shade.
“Rin says you paid for our drinks to honor my father. I thank you for that in his name and my own.”
“My pleasure,” Shade said. “What happened in the circle was a disgrace. I promise you, if a Sun Clan member had been killed, whoever they accused would be dead and their blood soaking the sand as we speak.”
“True words, my friend. You sound like one who has had run-ins with the Sun Clan. Where are you from?”
“The north,” Shade said. “My clan lives at the very edge of the desert, where it merges with the savanna. It is a good place, with much game. My family warned me not to go south to the city, that nothing good would come from it, but my curiosity got the best of me. I should have listened.”
“Will you join us for a drink and share your story?” Atar asked.
“I wouldn’t intrude in your mourning.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding and my friends would like to hear your story as well.”
Shade bowed his head. “Then I’d be honored. My name is Hon and I am pleased to meet you.”
They made the short trip back to the table and Shade took the only empty seat. They clunked mugs and drank. Well, the others drank, Shade let the nasty brew slosh against his lips, but only swallowed half a mouthful.
When the mugs had been slammed down Atar said, “Continue your story, please.”
“I left home with many pelts to trade. I had some small success, selling a handful of skins before a gang of Sun Clan warriors cornered me and demanded a tax. They took all the goods I had left and walked off laughing. When I reported it to the ones in charge, I was told that I had no witnesses to back up my claim. They dismissed me and that was it. I’ve only survived because of the chits I made on those first few sales. I would happily see them pay for what they did, but this is not my city and I don’t know anyone who would help me seek justice.”
Shade forced himself not to smile. That wasn’t a bad story, even if he did say so himself. Now he just had to wait and see if it was good enough.
Atar clapped him on the shoulder. “You are no longer alone, my friend. We also seek justice. Will you join us in our quest?”
“I will.”
“Then tonight justice will walk the streets of Tower City.”
Before Atar could drain his mug, Shade said, “Not tonight, my friend.”
Atar frowned. “And why not? Justice delayed is justice denied. My father’s soul screams for blood.”
“I understand,” Shade said. “But it screams for the blood of his killer, not the blood of his son. Tonight, the elders will expect you to do something like this and will be waiting. Drink, mourn, and make no more mention of justice. Let them see you broken and beaten. Tomorrow night, we will meet here again as if to drown our sorrows. When our enemies lower their guard, then we strike.”
Atar slowly smiled. “You are a hunter indeed. It shall be as you say. The gods smiled when they put you in my path.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Shade raised his mug. “To your father.”
Chapter 8
Night time was the best time for murder, at least in Shade’s considerable experience. He sat at the bar beside an overstuffed satchel. Rondo had helped him make disguises for tonight’s mission, crude robes with a red stripe on them. There wasn’t a blanket left on the ship, but if this worked, it would be worth it. They looked enough like Sun Clan robes to let them pass casual inspection, especially at night.
He’d been nursing a mug of bitter beer for twenty
minutes in the empty Water Clan tavern when Atar and his friends finally showed up. They spotted him at once and nodded toward the tent flap. Shade payed his tab and joined the others outside. A single lantern hung outside the tent provided enough light to see.
The night air felt wonderful compared to the day’s heat. “You’re late,” Shade said.
“Our honored elder”—the sneer was hidden by Atar’s scarf, but Shade could hear it in his tone—“wanted to give me a lecture about justice and the law, as if that will bring peace to my father’s soul. I listened and nodded along like a good boy. By the time the old man ran out of breath, the time of our meeting had already passed.”
“A few minutes one way or the other is of no consequence. I’ve had a busy day.” He passed out the disguises. “These will let us walk right into the Sun Clan’s neighborhood with no one the wiser.”
Atar looked at the robe with distaste. “I want the bastard to know who’s killing him.”
“I understand,” Shade said. “But if you can’t reach Karn, you can’t kill him. Tell him who you are when you strike if you must.”
For a moment Shade feared the proud young man would refuse, but at last he threw the robe over his head. With everyone properly dressed, they set out for the Sun Clan’s part of the city. The streets were quiet and dark after the sun went down, though the glow of an occasional lantern filled a few of the tents they passed.
Things changed when they reached the target neighborhood. Patrols of armed Sun Clan warriors walked the streets in pairs. One carried a lantern and the other kept a hand close to his sword. The first patrol gave them a passing look and a quick nod. Shade kept his daggers drawn and hidden inside the sleeves of his robe. While he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone that got in the way, he’d prefer to reach Karn’s tent peacefully. A trail of bodies would be awfully easy to follow.
The Dragons' Graveyard: The Dragonspire Chronicles Book 3 Page 5
