Astal nodded slowly. “You have friends in the Slovani community as well. But you won’t protect them, will you?”
Raelyn thought about it for a moment. “No. This wasn’t a burglary gone wrong, or an accidental killing. This was murder.”
“What did you discover, Rae? What haven’t you told me?” His face slipped slightly into an expressionless mask. He doesn’t trust me, Raelyn thought with a start. After all the years that I’ve known him, everything we’ve been through together, he thinks I might be trying to accuse him? Or use him to get to someone he knows
“Look, Astal, I’m not trying to trap you, and I’m not going to betray your trust. The reason I wanted to ask you about it is because I think it was an assassination. Someone went through a lot of trouble to make it look like a burglary, and they took a painting by the master artist Vennen Storbrin. But they left thousands of tares worth of goods, things easily fenced. They went through Aertis’s papers, like they were going after some kind of documents, but we don’t know what’s missing. What worries me, though, is that he was killed professionally. The intruder wasn’t surprised. Aertis was stabbed through the heart in a single blow, by someone who was hiding behind the door. His wife was sleeping in the room down the hall and she didn’t hear anything. Whoever did this knew exactly what he was doing.”
“So you thought to ask me about Slovani assassins? Are those the sort you think I keep in counsel?” Astal’s expression was still guarded, although he seemed to be relaxing a bit.
“You know the underbelly of the city as well as I do. Maybe even more than me. You’re a merchant, and Aertis represented the Craftsmen’s District; you deal with them all the time. You’re Slovani, and the killer is probably Slovani. Most importantly, you’ve never been a member of the Watch, much less an investigator. People who wouldn’t trust talking to me wouldn’t hesitate talking to you. You seem like the perfect person to ask.” He took another drink of ale, draining his cup and motioning to Dola. Astal sat quietly, deep in thought.
“I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to do, Astal. I just want you to help me out. I think someone hired a professional to steal the painting and then silence him permanently. If that’s the case, I want to find the guy.”
“Contract killers are bad for business.”
“Yeah, they are—especially if it was because of one of his business deals. If it is an assassin, I want to find out who hired the killer, and why.”
Astal nodded. “I’ll help you if I can, Rae. I can’t promise anything, though.”
“Promise me one thing, Astal.” Raelyn paused, looking in his friends eyes. “You deal in information like it’s gold. Don’t pass this bit on.” Astal looked at him, and didn’t reply. “If you tell anyone, it might get someone else killed.”
“You mean it might get you killed,” Astal replied, looking at Raelyn soberly.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.” Raelyn sat back in his chair, frowning. How much do I trust you, Astal? How many peoples’ secrets have you betrayed?
“I won’t tell anyone, Rae,” Astal replied, finally finishing his wine. Then he flashed his charming smile. “Your secret is safe with me.”
After all these years, do I trust you? Can I trust you to keep a secret if you could profit from it, even if you know it could get me killed? Raelyn managed a smile, even though he felt his stomach begin to tighten.
“So,” Astal continued, “what specifically do you want from me?”
Raelyn leaned forward, looking Astal in the eyes. “First, I want you to come up with a list of people you know of that could be the killer. Focus on people who use stilettos or rapiers. Also think about people who aren’t Slovani—I want to make sure that Corlwyn doesn’t start a witch hunt and try rounding up everyone in the city who isn’t Oervan.”
“I can do that,” Astal responded, his eyes tightening a bit at the corners. “But to be fair, the killer probably is Slovani. Most contract killers in the city are either Slovani or Coscan, and Coscan assassins usually lack the… subtlety we’re dealing with here.”
“I know, and that’s exactly what Corlwyn will be thinking. And if I was the killer, using a rapier is exactly the kind of move I’d do if I wanted to throw him off the scent.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Astal replied.
“Good. Second, I want you to take a look at who could have hired the killer. I want to know if there’s any talk on the street about a stolen painting, especially if it’s one by Master Storbrin. People who have art often want to show it off, particularly to people they want to impress—like other prominent merchants. I also want to know everything you can find out about Aertis’s business and political rivals. Anyone who disagreed with his positions or stood to gain by his death. Don’t discount any details you might come across as being irrelevant. Something that seems unimportant at first may end up leading us to a vital clue. The more you find out, the better.”
Astal smiled. “I know a lot about those things.”
“I know,” Raelyn replied. “That’s one of the biggest reasons I came to you. I need someone who knows what’s been going on. I’ve pretty much ignored politics ever since I became a social outcast, and I know you pay a lot more attention to what’s been going on than I do. I also know that you have spent years learning other people’s secrets. You might put together a puzzle that I can’t just because you know how interconnected everything is around here. Especially in political intrigue, which is something that you excel at.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, slialne,” Astal responded good-naturedly. “I’ve known few people whose intuition is as strong as yours regarding these things. I wouldn’t be surprised if you discovered the key to this mystery by the end of the week—and uncovered three more intrigues in the process!”
Raelyn shook his head. “No, Astal. Not something like this. Sure, my hunches serve me well, and something in the back of my mind lets me know when something isn’t right. But this is bigger than that. I already know that something’s wrong, but figuring out what’s wrong and who’s behind it is a whole different matter.” Raelyn looked at Astal intently for a moment. “I’m afraid that if I don’t find out who is behind this, Corlwyn will end up stringing up a bunch of Lord Elotarn’s rivals, all in the name of ‘justice’, and I don’t want the blood of innocents on my conscience. At least, no more than already are.”
”I understand. I’ll do what I can to help you. If I find anything out, I’ll let you know.” Astal’s demeanor turned serious, and he lowered his voice, leaning across the tale. “But keep in mind, I’m a merchant, not a soldier. If this starts to get dangerous, I’m going to distance myself from it, and rather quickly. I know you remember the days when I was one of Lord Perinor’s runners. I’ve taken plenty of risks in the past, but some of the things I did in those days were foolhardy, things I’d reconsider now that I’m older and wiser. Some of the things you used to do—and still do to this day—are downright mad. I’m glad to help an old friend, but I won’t risk my life or my livelihood just to play sleuth for the sake of old times.”
“I know, slialne, I know” Raelyn replied. “I’m not looking to get anyone killed here, least of all myself. I’m a big fan of breathing, and I plan on doing so for quite some time. If it starts to get hot and you need to get out, I’ll do what I can to protect you.” He smiled, amusement coming through on his face. “Of course, for what you paid for the sword on your hip you could easily hire an entire household of bodyguards. I’ve never known someone so willing to pay for such fine things that they don’t even use.”
“Oh, I use it,” Astal said, returning the smile. “I use it every time I walk into a meeting. Anyone who has more stones in the hilt of his sword than most noblemen have in the rings on their fingers is someone not to be crossed in a business deal. I would just rather not have to try stabbing someone with it, as that leaves me perilously close to having someone return the favor. As soon as I can teach this sword to fight for itsel
f, I’ll be happy to go around engaging in duels; until then, I’d just as soon avoid them.”
Raelyn smiled back at Astal, sharing in the mirth—and was suddenly reminded of the night when Astal, a boy of fourteen, stabbed a member of a party who had ambushed their encampment. You were horrified then, he thought to himself. We called you ‘Little Mouse’ until that night, but you wouldn’t be called anything but Astal since. You vowed to never kill again. I hope that this doesn’t make you break that vow.
“Like I’ve said, I’ll do what I can to keep you out of harm’s way. All I want is for you to help me find out where to look. The sooner I find out who is behind the killing the better.”
“Indeed.” Astal pushed the wine glass away from him, waving off Dola as she approached, and dug into a pouch on his hip for a few coins. He sat them on the table, arranging them one on top of the other in a neat little stack. “I wonder,” he mused aloud; “what do you think Lord Elotarn would estimate the value of this service, if I were to help discover the identity of Aertis Millson’s killer?” He looked at Raelyn, his gaze calculating. “He would be in my debt, would he not?”
“I have no intention of taking all the credit, if that’s what you’re hinting at. I’ve always given credit where it was due. Moradarn knows I’m honorable in that respect.”
“Of course, Rae,” Astal replied, surprise evident on his face. “I wasn’t implying that at all. I merely wonder how Lord Elotarn would see fit to repay the favor. I am happy to help an old friend, but if there is profit to be had in a venture, it would be against my nature not to seek it out. I am, after all, Slovani,” he added with mirth.
“Sure, Astal, sure. And if you couldn’t get anything from the High Lord, you’d surely find some way to turn it to your favor with me.”
“Who’s to say I won’t exact my price on both of you?” Astal said with a grin, his eyes playful. Raelyn laughed.
“I’m sure I’ll owe you as well, slialne.”
Astal stood, adjusting his sword belt and cloak. “Well, I had better get started then, if I’m to solve your mystery for you by breakfast tomorrow. I’ll ask around among the Coscan, as well as some of the merchants. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would profit from Millson’s death. What do you have planned?”
“I have another old friend to visit.”
Astal looked at him closely, a serious set to his eyes. “Are you referring to Callais?”
Raelyn hesitated for a moment, not sure of how to respond. Although it was a question, Raelyn could tell by the look in Astal’s eyes that he already knew the answer. “Yes. She has the ear of a number of people in the city. She might be able to find out something that would be useful.”
Astal studied him, not replying. Raelyn returned his gaze, drawing his mind blank to mask his emotions. Finally, Astal spoke. “But that’s not why you’re going, is it.” It was a statement, not a question. Raelyn looked away.
“Damn it, Astal. It doesn’t matter. She’ll help me if she can. I know what you’re going to say, but nothing that happened to me was her fault.”
“I know it wasn’t,” Astal said, his voice serious. “Just be careful. She’s the reason you lost so much to begin with; now you have a second chance. I wouldn’t want to see the same thing happen again.”
“It’s different, Astal,” Raelyn replied. “When all of that happened, she was working in the Arena District without a license. She was just trying to make extra money, get away from Thoulle and his enforcers. Now that she’s got Karduk’s protection, she doesn’t have to worry about being smacked around like a whore down on the docks. Besides, she feels bad for what happened to me.” He remembered the girl with the bright copper hair, and the tears in her eyes when she came to him, begging for his help. He remembered his heart breaking, knowing that what he was doing would damn himself to save her. “We have history.”
“Oh, I know you do, Rae,” Astal replied. “Don’t forget, I was there for most of it. Fuck her all you want--just don’t let your heart get involved. It’s bad business.”
“It’s not like that,” Raelyn protested, feeling heat rise in his face. “I’m just going to visit with her, to ask her some questions. One of the girls may have heard something helpful. If they have, I’m sure Callais knows.”
Astal smiled, but there was no joy in it. “Come on, Rae. I’ve known for a while that you’ve been meeting with her, and I’m sure you’ve been fucking her. I’m just saying, as an old friend, don’t put your heart on the line. When you do, you make some pretty stupid decisions.”
“Fuck off, Astal. Attend to your own heart,” Raelyn replied crossly. As soon as the words left his mouth he felt a pang of regret.
Astal just bowed in the manner of the Slovani. “As you wish, slialne. I’ll let you know if I come across anything that may be of interest.” Astal turned and walked out the door, drawing his hood up as he left.
Raelyn sat and watched him leave, absently raising the empty mug to his lips. He motioned to Dola for another, thinking about what his friend had said. Of course he would already know, in spite of everything I’ve done to try to keep it secret. I think that man knows more about secrets than anyone else in the city.
Dola arrived back at the table with a mug, her expression still sour. “Those coins are for you, Dola. That’s from my friend Astal. They should be more than enough to pay for his wine, as well as reward you for your hospitality.” She started at this, embarrassed by his admonishment, and scooped the coins up from the table.
“Give him me thanks when ya see him next,” she said in a low voice, flushing with embarrassment, and then turned and walked from the table.
Raelyn took a long pull at the mug, watching Dola as she walked away. Maybe I should take her up on her offer, he thought to himself, but immediately rejected the thought. No, she’s far too young. Still a child, really. Maybe I should find another woman to visit with, someone other than Callais. It’s not like there haven’t been others. But how many others could give me the information that I need? Not many. Certainly not someone like Dola. And how long would it take to cultivate that kind of a relationship with someone? That kind of trust? With Callais, I know that what goes on between us goes on in confidence. With another girl, would I be so fortunate? Would I get Tuva’s blessing, or her curse?
Raelyn finished the mug and opened his coin purse, pouring out a handful of copper pecks. He thought for a moment, then counted out a small pile. He put the rest of the coins back in his purse—all but a single platinum sun. Arailia, Sister of Love, bless me this night with Callais. His lips turned up in a wry smile, and he thought bitterly, Twenty years of asking Arailia to bless me with Callais, and you think a platinum sun is going to change her mind?
Chapter Seven
An hour later, Raelyn walked into the Arena District, in the heart of the city. The sun had already dipped into the ocean and oil lamps were lit along the Southern Promenade, a wide boulevard that ran east through the district, past the Arena of Crae, then turning south until it ran to the river. People were in abundance here, pouring into and out of a number of popular taverns and inns. Men and women milled about the grassy median, many of them foreigners in the city on business. After dark, the Promenade was the heart of the city, where men of power met to deal with one another.
Raelyn walked to The Siren’s Song, one of the district’s many song-houses where patrons could, for a few tares, be entertained by local musicians or actors. He went inside, passing by a stage where a woman sang in a dusky voice to the delight of the crowd. A door in the back led to a staircase to the basement, the bottom of which was guarded by a heavily-built Coscan with a cudgel hanging from his hip. Like most Coscan men, he was short, stocky, and dark, and he had a broad, flat face and a square jaw. It made him look like he was suspicious of everyone around him, but Raelyn knew that had more to do with his features than his demeanor. He had seen the Coscan guard many times before, and he always had the same expression on his face. Raelyn nodded to h
im and he nodded back, stepping to the side to let him pass.
The hallway was long, dark, and cramped, built in an earlier time when the district’s main inhabitants were Coscan. Raelyn was not short for an Oervan man, and he had to watch his head as he passed by a few cross-beams. I can’t imagine how some men would be able to navigate this passageway, Raelyn thought, imagining Jethu squeezing his considerable bulk down the hall. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. Maybe if he could come here, he wouldn’t have so much trouble from women too ready to attach themselves to him.
At the end of the hall was another guard, this one more neatly dressed and wearing one of the heavy bladed short swords favored by the Coscans. He blocked the door to the staircase leading up, and unlike the first guard, Raelyn was forced to speak with him. “Ruby sent me,” he stated, his voice low, and the guard pulled on a cord hanging from the ceiling. A chime sounded somewhere in the distance, and a few moments later was answered with another chime. The guard stepped aside, opening the door.
At the top of the stairs, Raelyn stepped into an opulent parlor, the walls plastered with crimson brocade silk in the style of the Slovani of Mitigol. Lanterns of colored glass burned low in the room, giving it an almost dream-like glow, and richly upholstered chairs and sofas were scattered about. An elegantly dressed Oervan woman was laying on a chaise-longue, and her eyes lit up when she saw Raelyn. She was beautiful in a classically Oervan way, with long blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Like many of the Oervan from Orevanthar, she was tall with a long face and noble features, and she radiated an aura that made Raelyn feel like he was in the presence of royalty. She rose, extending her hand. “Raelyn, what a pleasant surprise,” she said graciously, her Orevanthar accent thick and sweet.
“Good evening, Lady Genevar,” Raelyn replied, bowing his head and letting his lips light on the back of her hand. She made a throaty sound, somewhere between a purr and a growl, as her fingers slid suggestively out of his hand. She turned coyly to the side, her gown revealing the swell of a breast in a practiced move.
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