“What did they look like?” Tanor asked quickly.
“One limped on his left leg. Another was tall and thin. The third had a scar across almost his entire face.”
“Those are mine,” Pops replied gruffly. “What else did you see?”
“That was it, I’m afraid. I saw them talking quietly with each other and pointing at the Ennian healer. They had weapons with them, but they didn’t pull them out. That’s when I saw the alley I was looking for and headed off for my pashtara.”
“Thank you, Jert,” the viceroy said with a nod before turning to stare directly at Tanor. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
The Brotherhood leader was dumbfounded.
“That doesn’t mean anything!” he screeched girlishly as he leaped to his feet. His leather jacket groaned, threatening to burst at the seams. “His word means nothing, even if he did swear on the Holy Book!”
“Tell that to my old employers in Sifares,” the Ennian grinned. “Quite a few people would disagree with you.”
“This isn’t Sifares,” Tanor hissed. “You’re a stranger in Givoi.”
Artanna smiled, enjoying the look of confusion on her rival’s face.
“But why would this good fellow lie to the viceroy himself?”
“Maybe because you paid him.”
“That could be,” the Vagran replied, “if it weren’t for the fact that I don’t have any extra money. You can ask anyone working at the Gatson bank.”
“Who cares?” Tanor asked with a roll of his eyes. “You can always find a little silver to make someone blab.”
“By the way, you promised me payment for my information today, and I’d appreciate it—”
“Shut up!” Artanna barked at Jert. “We’ll figure you out later.”
Kirino slammed a fist down on the table again, once more so hard that Tanor and Artanna jumped in surprise. The Ennian smiled.
“Is the viceroy allowed to talk?”
The mercenaries fell silent, though they continued staring daggers at each other.
“If you want a circus, wait until the fair season starts. In the meantime, be so kind as to listen to me.”
Jert saw the Hundred leader’s face tighten. Tanor gripped his armrests with fat fingers and paled from the stress, though it didn’t look like he noticed either change. The only thing breaking the silence was the monotone buzzing of a fly as it threw itself against the windowpanes.
“I’ve come to a preliminary decision.” The viceroy looked around the room and nodded curtly to his aide. “We have reason to believe that the trio who killed Rianos, the healer from the Hundred, were Brotherhood people, Master Tanor. According to your contract, you bear responsibility for their actions in Givoi, if not complete responsibility, of course. If the three mercenaries are proven party to the murder of an innocent man, they will accept their punishment. On the executioner’s block. When they’re found.”
Artanna nodded.
“That’s excellent, but what—”
“I’m not finished,” Kirino said sharply. “With you, Tanor, the situation is more complicated. Let’s put aside the murder and look at the facts. Givoi, as represented by the council of signors, hired your troops to enforce order in the streets. The foundry quarter is on the list of areas you were entrusted to secure. You failed to do so, you permitted a man to be killed, and, what is worse, you turned out to hire very poor people.”
“But that’s—”
“Your reasons and excuses mean nothing to me. The internal conflicts going on in the Brotherhood aren’t my problem, and they shouldn’t affect innocent civilians. The turmoil in your group is the direct cause of what happened. Because of that, I’m forced to act: if you don’t restore order within your ranks in the very near future, you can say goodbye to your contract.” A triumphant smirk flitted across Artanna’s face. Tanor froze, his tiny eyes widened, and he stared unblinking at Kirino. The viceroy took a few sips of wine before wiping his beard slowly, putting his cup down, and continuing. “From this day on, the foundry quarter is under the protection of the Hundreds. And pray that it’s the only area the Brotherhood loses.”
Tanor gritted his teeth and threw a look of rage at the Vagran, though he said nothing.
“You will compensate the Hundreds, as represented by Artanna nar Toll, the amount she deems fair for the loss of their healer, though no more than five imperial aure,” the viceroy said. “The contract with the Brotherhood will be reviewed at the next council of the signors, at which you will make a public apology for your negligence. That is all.”
The Brotherhood leader’s face darkened. He lifted his chin proudly and looked directly at Kirino.
“In what regard will my contract be reviewed?”
“The signors may cut the cost of your services or refuse them altogether,” the viceroy replied with a shrug. “When we meet at the next new moon, you’ll hear our decision.”
Tanor cracked his knuckles and turned to the Vagran.
“What compensation will satisfy you?”
“Your balls nailed to the gates of my manor, that would satisfy me,” Artanna said without a shadow of sarcasm. “But Signor Kirino wouldn’t approve of that—I can see by the look on his face. And so, I’ll be forced to live with the five aure you’ll deliver at sunset.”
“Are you kidding me?” Tanor yelled. “That’s a fortune!”
The mercenary woman leaped up and bounded over to the head of the Brotherhood.
“You think I’m kidding you? Your people killed two of mine—first Vazash, and now Rianos.” She straightened up and stepped away. “Five aure isn’t nearly enough, but it’s something. Learn how to pick people or pay for their mistakes.”
“I can nail his balls to your gate if you want,” Jert said with a smile.
“You just worry about your own,” the Hundred leader shot back.
“Okay, so, five aure or the equivalent in silver, and the conflict is resolved,” the viceroy said. “My only requirement is that Signor Guiro is to witness the handover, so we don’t have any more questions.”
“Of course.”
Kirino pulled himself slowly to his feet and headed toward the door.
“That’s it. Until next time.”
The viceroy walked out, his long mantle trailing behind him. Jert, who was standing by the door, bowed gracefully. After watching the old man leave, a frown on his face, Tanor turned to look at Artanna. The Vagran was stretching her cramped muscles.
“See you at sunset,” she said, preparing to leave as well.
The Brotherhood leader stood slowly, his eyes never leaving his rival.
“You arranged the whole thing.”
“Oh, please. I just did my best with the cards I was handed. Believe me, I’d give up a lot more than five aure to get Rianos back. We’re parting in peace this time, but don’t you dare cross me again, Tanor. The next time, I’ll follow through on that threat and actually nail your balls to my manor gate.”
Tanor stepped over to Artanna, though she just calmly looked him in the eye.
“You lost one guy; I lost three fighters.”
“My healer was worth an entire squad, and he was my friend.” Artanna crossed her hands over her chest, smiled sadly, and walked over to the window. “Stop the antics and just admit you were wrong. You lost, Tanor. Pick up the remains of your dignity and accept it like a man.”
“I don’t know how to lose—you know that,” the Brotherhood leader whispered quietly, almost tenderly, as he crept up behind her. “You embarrassed me, and I can’t let that go.”
Jert saw the mercenary pull a dagger out of the folds in his leather jacket. But there wasn’t enough time to do anything.
“Knife!” the Ennian barked, sliding a hidden blade out of his own boot.
Tanor took a swing, but Artanna was able to dodge in time. The mercenary cursed as his blade sliced through thin air.
Federigo Guiro stared at the fighters in shock.
“What the d
evil? You were supposed to give up your weapons!”
“Should have done a better job checking,” Jert snarled. “Get help, Signor. Hurry!”
The Gatson disappeared immediately into the hallway.
“Vagran whore!” Tanor bellowed. “Think you’re going to take the whole city?”
Artanna took a few steps backward without taking her eyes off her opponent’s weapon. Jert called over and tossed her his dagger.
“Just don’t even think about losing it, Commander! It means a lot to me.”
Too busy ducking away from Tanor’s attack and leaping to the side, Artanna didn’t reply. Suddenly, she banged into a bench she missed, overturning several chairs. The Ennian’s blade slid across the floorboards and came to a stop right next to her leg.
Jert leaned up against the wall to watch the fun calmly. It was time to see how lucky the woman was.
“Not going to help?” the Vagran woman screeched, dodging another blow and gripping the weapon comfortably.
“I already did!” Jert grinned. “You’re on your own from here.”
“Bastard.” Artanna barked grimly and leaped over the bench, evading yet another strike.
She weighed half as much as Tanor and was twice as nimble, but he was stronger. Still, the odds were decent for her. As long as she was able to penetrate his thick leather armor with her little knife… Artanna landed on the floor and spun around quickly. All that stood between her and the livid mercenary was the wide table, though behind her were nothing more than windows and the balcony. She was out of room to maneuver.
“Let’s go,” Tanor said. “Stop playing the coward! Fight me, duke’s whore!”
“Official mistress, for your information. Not that you see any difference.”
The mercenary was slowing down. He leisurely moved around the table, took a lazy swing, stepped heavily… Artanna dodged that attack, as well. Almost dancing, she dipped past him and slashed at the straps holding his thick leather shell in place. When Tanor turned quickly in an attempt to follow her, she buried her forehead in the bridge of his nose. He howled, awkwardly sweeping his blade through the air. Artanna’s face spread into a crazed smile, and she seized the moment when Tanor opened up to give him as hard a kick as she could muster straight to the groin. Not very sporting, but highly effective. He doubled over, grabbed his codpiece with both hands, and dropped his blade. The Vagran woman leaped over and kicked the weapon away.
“What do you say, sweetie? Still want to kill me?”
“If I were him, I’d want to kill you even more,” Jert said thoughtfully. “I didn’t know you had a little crazy in you.”
“Only when people want to slit my throat.”
Artanna stuck the dagger in her belt and walked out onto the balcony past a wheezing Tanor. She needed to clear her head, let the blood settle. Suddenly, she could smell all the aromas coming up from the city, feel every gust of wind blowing in from the river, and hear the murmur of hundreds of voices. Artanna shook her head to get rid of the feeling.
Jert walked over to the railing, and the Vagran woman noticed that for the first time since they had met, he wasn’t wearing a smile. The Ennian was as serious as a master giving a sermon.
“What the hell was that?” he asked quietly.
“Just your usual knife fight between mercenaries,” Artanna replied with a shrug. “Welcome to Givoi.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. You move really quickly.”
“Tanor likes his food a bit too much.”
“You know, I was a fast fighter, one of the fastest in Sifares. But you move like a demon, by Arzimat’s hole.”
A distant smile continued playing on Artanna’s lips. The woman was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling under her stained white shirt.
“If all of you are that fast, I don’t stand a chance,” Jert said.
“You’ve never fought a Vagran?”
They both turned, distracted by noise from the hall. The doors flew open with a bang to let in several guards, the viceroy, and his aide. Artanna took a deep breath.
“Here we go…”
“For the love of all that is holy, what’s going on in here?” Kirino roared.
“Tanor didn’t want to share.” The Vagran threw her arms wide, continuing to smile as she did. “He threatened me with a knife, can you imagine that? The bastard. Seriously, have you ever seen anything like that?”
Jert went over to the viceroy.
“Signor Kirino, that guy tried to kill her. He brought a dagger in with him, and it’s only Artanna’s good luck that I did, too. Signor Guiro saw it all.”
The old man looked furiously at the guards. They stared at their boots in sheepish silence.
“I wouldn’t have expected an indiscretion like that from you, Master Tanor,” the viceroy said. “All you’re doing is complicating your position.”
“It’s too late to change anything, Signor Kirino,” the mercenary wheezed as he pulled himself to his feet. “I made my choice; the die is cast. You know what everybody has always valued most about me? I finish what I start.”
As he was wrapping up his short speech, Tanor straightened up and moved slowly toward the balcony. Then, he jumped around the guards and hurled himself forward, leaving the Hundred leader no time to evade him.
Jert didn’t realize what was happening at first. The enormous body flew at Artanna, and all the Ennian saw was her shock of gray hair go flying. The pair smashed through the wooden railing out on the balcony and hurtled downward, just a second after the mercenary woman’s shirt caught on a nail sticking out. But the sound of fabric tearing was quickly drowned out by howls, cursing, and the crash of the entire scene hitting the ground below.
“Shit!” Jert yelled as he ran over to the edge the two had toppled over. Guiro gasped and cursed; the viceroy hobbled over and stared at the ground beneath them in silence.
The crowd outside the doors had scattered. Blinded by the dust that had been kicked up, the fighters were grabbing for their weapons as the commoners raced to get away. The Brotherhood leader was on his back, his pants torn, and a yellowish bone sticking out of his right leg. His breastplate had been thrown off to the side. Artanna, in turn, was sitting atop him and slamming his head into the ground. Vagran profanities accompanied every hit.
“Shit is right,” the viceroy said.
***
For some reason, Artanna was being pulled off the lout, though she ripped herself free and threw a punch in reply. Only then did she realize that he was one of hers.
“Get off me!”
“Leave him alone!” It must have been Shrain. Or Vezzam. She couldn’t tell.
“Get out of here, bastard!”
She kept battering away at the pulp that was Tanor’s face. He was still breathing, a hearty scoundrel.
Somebody buried their boot in her face. Artanna flew off to the side, choking on a mix of blood and saliva; did a somersault; coughed; and wiped her nose with the dusty back of her hand. Jert stood above her.
“What are you doing, you idiot?”
“I’m going to kill him!” the Vagran gritted in reply as she stood up.
Jert gave her a backhand across the side of her face. She staggered and nearly lost her balance.
“What’s going on with you?”
“I warned him, I warned him…”
She was breathing heavily. Blood was running down her face from a cut on her eyebrow, and a string of drool hung from a corner of her mouth. The pain she hadn’t been feeling started to creep in. With each second, it was like a weight pressed down harder and harder on her shoulders, mashing her into the ground. The lightness was gone. Artanna wheezed, grimaced when a spasm came over her, fell to her knees, and vomited.
“Are you okay?” Vezzam’s voice whispered from right next to her ear. Somebody grabbed her under her arms.
“Better than I was in Rundkar,” she replied. “Let me go.”
Shrain’s paw held her wrist in a steel vi
ce.
“Let Tanor be,” he boomed.
“Screw him, Baby. I want to get cleaned up.”
“You need to get yourself checked out.”
“I’m fine.” Artanna waved him away, wobbled slightly, and turned to the viceroy as he stepped closer. “Would you be okay with having the money delivered to my manor? I suddenly don’t feel like coming back here again today.”
Kirino nodded silently.
Tanor was taken away by his people, among which Artanna noticed the Chironi brothers’ dark mops. The pair stared intently, if silently at her. Out of the blue, someone handed her a skin of water—she used it to clean some of the blood off her face. The guards were busy getting the bystanders moving along.
Artanna stepped down the steps to the town hall, called Jert over, and handed him his dagger.
“You may have helped save my skin today. Thanks.”
The Ennian looked the blade over carefully before slipping it into his belt.
“I like you better alive.”
“No second thoughts about joining the Hundred?”
“You’ll take me?”
“That depends on you. You were hinting about something last time, and now’s as good a time as any to make good on your word. A little more, and I’m going to pass out.”
Jert smiled and stuck his hand into his jacket pocket.
“Let me start by apologizing…”
“For what?” Artanna looked at him with exhausted eyes.
“Well, I’m a really good thief,” he said, pulling a piece of fabric out of his pocket and carefully unrolling it. “I took this off your wrist during the fight at the tavern—I wanted to show you what I can do. Although, right now I’d have to say I signed my own death warrant.”
Artanna stared at the bracelet in surprise.
“How did you do that?”
Jert shrugged. “We all have our talents. Are you going to kill me or just give me a hard time?”
Dancing on the Block Page 16
