“What were you doing when the body was found?”
He grunted, irritated by the questions.
“Bodyguard,” he said. “Lots of work then. Many bodyguards. Not like now. War coming. Do they hire? No. Stupid Dwarves.”
That was the most I’d gotten out of him. Something tickled at my mind.
“Why were they hiring many bodyguards back then?”
He shrugged.
“Other bodies. Dwarves frightened. They hire to protect them. Outclan Dwarves. Trusted Arukh. Many hired. Women protected.”
Other bodies?
“Bodies like the one you saw?”
“Could be.” Shrug.
“How many?”
“Some.” Shrug.
“Did the Dwarves find who made the bodies?”
“Don’t know.” Shrug. Annoyed grunt.
“What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“What happened? What did the Dwarves do about the bodies?”
“Hired bodyguards. Lots of work then. Bodies stop appearing. Dwarves slowly stop hiring. War coming. Still not hiring. Stupid Dwarves.”
I gave up. If there had been killings among Dwarves, they hadn’t been recent. I could find out about them if I needed to.
The most interesting thing about what he’d said was where the body had been found. Up near Vampire territory.
Dwarves didn’t keep Arukh in their territories. They maintained and hired from Downriver Lodges.
Vampires, on the other hand, kept their own tame lodges of Arukh. If the killings had begun in the north of the city, upriver, then it was probably from the Vampire Lodges.
Assuming, I thought, that it was an Arukh.
I didn’t seriously consider the killer as a Selk, regardless of what I’d told the Ublul. It seemed clear he’d begun elsewhere and only lately worked his way to the Selk.
He could be a renegade Vampire, or a Dwarf, or a Kobold.
Or a Shaman...
The sun was well into the sky as I made my way back to Iron Pants’ Lodge, thinking of Copper Thoughts. I was very tired, and the sun glared in my eyes, its burning touch making exposed skin crawl and covered flesh sweat.
If it was Arukh, then it was rogue and on its own, or it was very closely affiliated with one of the Kingdoms. Vampires kept Arukh lodges in their Kingdom.
I tried the thought out. It felt right. Vampires kept Arukh, Vampires kept horses, the body had been found near the Vampire Kingdom. Perhaps my Arukh was a Vampire slave. Or perhaps it was a Vampire.
The young female approached me. I snarled at her, regarding her with distaste. Then I took another look.
Her voice had always had the lilt of Arukh from Vampire lodges...
We stood just inside watching, waiting for our eyes to adjust.
The Vampire Lodge was almost empty. Only a handful of Arukh remained. We watched as a few approached us.
“Arrah,” a big female grunted gutturally, “who owns you?” She had a thin ridge of stiff hair standing high down the center of her head. On either side were livid lines of fire scar. Her left eye was buried in scar tissue.
She rocked from side to side.
I just rocked and grunted back at her.
The little female beside me backed away, hissing.
A couple of more Arukh came up. Another female, heavy limbed, bloated belly. A male, breath spitting from a hole in his cheek. Another male hung back, half crippled, missing most of an arm.
We rocked from side to side, grunting and snarling. The bloat-bellied female lost interest, but others came up. The big female bent down, pounding the ground with meaty fists.
“Arrah! Arrah!” Bellows rang out.
My temples pounded.
I rushed forward roaring, a few backed away. The big female held her ground. I retreated. A few advanced, and then stopped, returning to their original position.
“Arrah!” The burned female rushed towards me. I held still waiting for her to reach me. She smacked the ground with her fists, roaring with each step.
I danced to the side, grabbing her, using her mass to swing her around. She thrashed convulsively as I had her in the air and flung her at the other Arukh. About to rush, they scattered.
The burned woman landed on her shoulder. Kicking her feet, she twisted and rolled, finding her balance just as I was atop her.
I skipped back, feeling her answering slash whistling past me.
I snarled, advancing carefully, trying to get on her blind side. Crouching, she retreated, growling, pulling herself higher with each scuttling step until she stood upright.
“Arrah,” she growled.
“Arrah,” I rumbled back. We snarled and hissed at each other for another minute.
Finally she straightened up. Spitting at my foot, she turned her back and stalked away.
One by one, the other Arukh lost interest, hissing and spitting, they backed away, or turned and walked off. A few rushed at my little one, but I hissed them away, bobbing my head at them with quick jerks.
I hated that I was defending her. It felt like weakness.
We walked further into the Lodge. It was different from the Trolls’ Lodges. Smaller, with a lower ceiling. The air was heavy with the scent of offal and burning dung. Instead of cubholes that you could seal after you, there were only stalls. I stared at them. Parted by walls too high to the ceiling to climb over, they slanted forward, towards the doors.
“So the Masters can ride in,” the small female said behind me. I glanced at her.
“Masters ride,” she said, “no way to keep them out. No way to hide.”
“Arrah,” I said.
We skirted around a huge fire pit, embers still burning in the center, split bones scattered around the edges. Rot sacks lay around the hollow, empty but still redolent. I toed a cattle skull absently.
There was no high place, no defended platform, as in the Troll’s lodge. The keepers of this Lodge did not stay within.
“Arrah,” I said, glancing at the female, “who runs this place?”
She grinned, pleased that I had spoken to her.
“The Masters,” she said, “the Masters. They don’t come in except to kill. Whatever we need, is driven in.”
Yes, I thought. That made sense. The Troll’s house in Downriver was like a fortress within and without. The Troll ran it from his platforms. We who lived there all had our secure places.
There was no secure place here. The building could be knocked down or burned easily. The interior offered no shelter. A determined attack that got into the building could sweep right through.
But this Lodge was in Vampire Territories. They weren’t interested in making their slaves difficult to kill.
“How do you know these things?” I asked.
“Grew up in Vampire lodges.”
“Arrah?”
“Ran away to Downriver. Last summer back.”
I grunted without interest.
“You know all the lodges?”
She shrugged.
“Lodges are lodges, Arukh come, Arukh go.”
“You know these Arukh?”
She shook her head.
I grunted. No one runs this place, I thought. They just stored Arukh here.
“There aren’t enough,” I said out loud, turning around. There weren’t enough Arukh. There were perhaps a dozen. A Lodge this size, there should have been a hundred or more. “War?”
I scanned the Arukh, who were staring sullenly back at me.
Older ones, mainly, and a couple of cripples. No young Arukh. No fiery healthy ones. The ones who sat here were scarred and patient and mean.
I noted the cripple that had come out to meet us with the others. Half an arm held protectively against his body, his legs twisted so that he c
ould barely walk.
My eyes held his a second too long. He began to scramble away.
“Arrah,” I snarled, pointing at him. The young female scrambled after him. He fell, scrambling along like an insect, to a little hole dug at the base of the wall. She was on top of him. He squealed like a pig, fighting as I approached.
Unceremoniously, I grabbed his ankle and dragged him out of the Lodge by his heel, ignoring his kicking and thrashing. The young female, keening with excitement, leaped around him, raining blows. I let her hit him, ready to strike her if she went too far.
We pulled him well past the Lodge, to a joining of two sheds. “Arrah,” I snapped, pushing the female away. I let him go.
He scrambled, terrified into the corner, gibbering.
I squatted down on my haunches and let him gibber. The young female did likewise.
“Stampede?” I asked finally. I indicated his crippled body and flicked a piece of copper at him. He flinched as it hit him and dropped away. He stared at it.
He nodded. After a moment, he grabbed the coin.
I could almost imagine the beasts, passing over him, his trying to shelter himself, pulling into a screaming ball. Hooves shattering bones.
“Cull?” I flicked another copper.
“War,” he said. “Upriver. I hid, fed on bodies. Healed.”
I nodded slowly.
“When?”
“Four years ago, autumn runs.”
“Arm?” Flick. He caught this one, squeezing it in his good fist. Even whole, I thought, he wouldn’t have been very big.
He seemed confused that I was asking. It seemed to smother his fear.
“Five years,” he grunted.
I waited.
“Dwarves. Not a war, just out. Find a band, fight. Dwarf has club, he hits, bones inside go to pieces. Arm no good. Swells up heavy, big and black with blood. Blood turns poison.
Fire to stop poison, but it goes on. More fire. More poison.
Arm comes off. Burn flesh. Poison stops.”
I hummed.
“Hide. Drink water. Eat bugs and rats. Dream and dream, like the Vampires. Get better. Come out. Still mighty.”
“No,” I said. “Never mighty.”
“I was mighty,” he said, “they remember, they feared to come close, even when I was full of poison.”
“Not mighty,” I shook my head emphatically.
He watched me, waiting for my next move.
“Who owns you?” I asked, flicking a coin.
“You do.”
I grunted.
“Many masters,” he said quickly. “Many skills. Clever hands. Sharp eyes. Groom and polish. Good sex, very easy. Don’t eat much. Eat excrement. Easy to feed. Don’t have to worry, not dangerous.”
“Many?”
His head bobbed quickly, trying to guess what we wanted.
“Many. I’m a good slave. Masters have no complaint. I serve well.”
“You stay in this Lodge only?”
He shrugged. “It’s a place.”
I nodded.
“I’m looking for an Arukh,” I said. “Do you know him?”
He looked at me blankly. I tossed him a copper.
“Clever Arukh. Clever, clever. Male. Not too big, not too strong. Carries an iron knife, two edges. Very clever. Very dangerous.”
“Clever,” he said, licking his lips, “clever clever. There’s a big female in Downriver, stays at the Troll, Iron Pants, lodge. Very clever. Very dangerous. They say things about her. Stories, all kinds of stories. Dangerous.”
“Not the one,” I grunted and shook my head conveying disinterest.
“Clever, clever, clever,” he insisted. “She tricked the Dwarves into war. She raised up the Kobolds to their kingdom and killed their devil. She gambled with the high Gnomes, they say they won, but now they fear her.”
I snarled with irritation.
“No, no,” he said, cringing backward. “You want a clever Arukh, that’s the one you want. They say-”
“Not the one I want,” I snapped. “I want a male, not too big, with an iron knife.”
“Iron knife?”
I grunted.
“No Arukh. No Arukh I’ve heard of has an iron knife. No male could keep it. Iron knife, a female would take it. A strong one, a clever one, like down at the Troll’s-”
“Enough!”
“You want an iron knife, you go there. Not here. Only a clever Arukh would have-”
“Stop.” I raised my fist in mock violence.
I sat and thought.
“Sex,” I said.
“You want sex?” he brightened. He started flicking his tongue like a lizard, trying to stretch his body sinuously. I noted a knife scar running the edge of his tongue. “I do that. I do that good. I make no trouble. Do you both-”
He cringed as I raised my fist.
“Looking for an Arukh,” I said again. “Male, not very big. Bad sex. He likes to cut.”
“Lots of bad sex,” he said, “many like to beat. Many like to bite and bleed. Some cut.”
If he’d lived this long a cripple, I knew, he’d be very good at smelling them and staying away.
“Many cuts, not long, small and deep,” I said. I mimed holding a knife, stabbing over and over again. “Many, many.”
He stared at me, and shook his head.
“War,” he said finally. “Battles. Sometimes, cut, cut, cut. Not sex. Blood fever.”
“Not war,” I insisted. “Sex. Stab. Many, many, many.”
He stared.
“Maybe cut tongue. Maybe cut eyes out. Sex.”
I paused.
“There,” I indicated between his legs, he cringed, “cut out, cut away. Make new hole. Sex in hole. Wallow in blood and entrails.”
His eyes widened. He squirmed, struggling with mounting terror. Abruptly he bolted. The little one, anticipating his move, was already on top of him. He squealed with terror, a keening sound. It was matched by her own gleeful cry as she began to beat him again.
“Stop,” I said.
She froze. I remained squatting, watching them.
There was a slight panic in her eyes, as if she’d transgressed but was not sure how. His fear was mixed with confusion, terrified, every choice bad, every direction a nightmare... but right at that instant, no one was hurting him.
She got off him slowly, squatted on the other side, to watch and wait. Her eyes had gone bright again, all watchful and attentive. It was disturbing.
“No,” I reassured him. “Not us. This is the Arukh we seek. Ever hear of an Arukh doing like that?”
“Many Arukh,” he offered. “War? Blood fever? Hunting lust?”
“Just one Arukh, alone. Sex.”
He shook his head.
“Nothing like that. Never seen an Arukh like that. Never heard of it.”
I made a sour face.
“Maybe,” he said desperately, “Arukh like that is in Downriver. Not around here. Go to Downriver.”
I must have looked more and more irritated.
“Men cut like that.”
“Men?”
“Horsemen.” He went on desperately. “Heard about it. Horsemen, when they kill, they cut tongue, cut eyes.”
“Sex?”
“No. After battle, fever over. They go to the dead. That’s what they do. Death rituals. I’ve heard about it.”
I grunted dismissively.
“This Arukh,” I said, “male, not too big, not too small, bad, bad sex. Iron knife. Very clever. I want to find him.”
I flicked a piece of copper.
“Nothing like that around here,” he said. “Why you want to find something like that?”
“Around here,” I insisted. “Where do I go to find something lik
e that?”
“Other houses,” he said, “Go to other houses. Arukh talk. Madness like that, you hear. Not here, then some other house.”
A clever Arukh indeed, if he knew enough to hide his lust from other Arukh.
A thought occurred to me.
“Ever hear,” I asked, “of bodies cut up like I said.”
“Men-”
I cuffed him. He cowered, his eyes bright and scared.
“Bodies found, no battle, no fight, cut up, many wounds, eyes and tongue gone, sex carved out.”
I stopped and tried to think. What else would show?
“Maybe Arukh, maybe Vampires. They disappear. Bodies appear, dropped or cast away. Maybe nobody sees killing, nobody hears of killing. They just find the bodies. You know anything like that?”
“I hear...” he said slowly.
I inclined my head, listening.
“No Arukh,” he said. “I hear of no Arukh like that. But Vampires... Maybe Vampire bodies like that appear. It’s men...”
Vampire bodies? I perked up, allowed him to see interest.
“Tell me about Vampire bodies?” I ordered.
“It’s men. Men do it. That’s what everyone says. Men.”
“The Vampires,” I snapped.
“A Daughter of the Hollow Bone line,” he cringed, “others, I don’t know. I only hear. I don’t know much.”
He kept on whining and cringing, crouching against the wall. I let him run on and run down.
“Arrah,” I said finally. I tossed another piece of copper at him. He caught it. “You’re a rich Arukh,” I told him. “Very rich. Other Arukh will be jealous, maybe take it away, kill. Be clever, rich Arukh, maybe you live another year.”
I stood and backed away.
“We’re done with him,” I said.
“Now Kill!” the female shrieked, leaping on him. “Kill! Kill! Kill!”
I growled and kicked her away. She scrambled to her feet, hissing.
“Kill?”
“No kill,” I snapped.
“No kill! No kill!” squealed the cripple.
“Take copper?” she asked. She’d taken my speech as an invitation. I sighed.
“No.”
“I can. I can take it. No trouble. Easy.”
I grunted irritably, rocking from side to side.
She glanced from me to the cripple and back again, looking disappointed.
The Mermaid's Tale Page 14
