A Gathering of Fools

by James Evans

  She looked at him and he could see the fear in her eyes as she thought it through. Then she gave a quick nod and an excited grin.

  “Good. It’s a simple plan but it starts with you in a fine dress, as revealing as you can manage in polite company. Do you have something suitable?”

  Madame Duval snorted.

  “Revealing dresses are pretty much my stock in trade,” she said, “I’m sure I can find something that will suit.”

  “Right. Well, thanks. I’m going to bathe then pay a visit to our Captain Paltiel, give her a nudge in the right direction and see what she has to say about things.”

  He picked up the parcel.

  “Are you sure that’s wise? It might be better to let the Watch be. Paltiel has a reputation. Prickly, difficult. And that’s without adding the Flank Siders into the mix.”

  Marrinek shook his head.

  “Can’t. I’ve already upset Snitz so it’s only a matter of time before they come back in force. Besides, there are too many other things going on to stop now.”

  He stood up and opened the door before turning back to her.

  “Anyway, it might be fun.” He closed the door behind him and Madame Duval listened to the sound of his boots retreating down the corridor toward the bathroom.

  Old Ned’s day wasn’t going at all well. They had grabbed him right off the docks and taken him to a Watch house somewhere on the east side, near as he could tell. When they’d finally taken the bag off his head he was in a cell lit only by a small grill set near the ceiling. Even at midsummer, the cell was damp and chilly and he could hear the rats running along the corridor and through the foul straw that covered the floor.

  He shivered and kicked out at the rustling straw but he’d been arrested before and he knew the drill. Sit tight, find out what they wanted, say nothing. Eventually they’d get bored of having him around and throw him back out on the street.

  At least, that’s what had happened every other time he’d been arrested. Things had been quiet recently and he hadn’t seen the inside of a cell for several years. This afternoon’s grab had been a surprise. He kicked the straw around a bit in frustration then tried shouting and rattling the door, although he knew from long experience that nobody would take any notice. Still, for appearances if nothing else, he shouted and yelled all the obscenities he could think of. After a while he gave up and dragged his boot across the floor until he’d cleared a patch to sit on. With nothing to do but wait, he pulled his knees up to his chest and leant his head against the wall.

  Time was the enemy. He tried to track how long he’d been in the cell by watching the shadows thrown by the grill, just to give himself something to do. The shadow hadn’t moved more than a few inches across the floor before he heard someone coming down the corridor and the door to his cell was thrown open. A lantern came into the cell, preceding a man who also carried a chair. He hung the lantern from a hook in the ceiling and placed the chair down near the door, standing to one side as second man came in and sat down on the chair.

  Ned frowned up at him from his spot on the floor. He knew most of the people in the Watch, at least vaguely. He recognised with an inward groan the man in the chair. Sergeant Snitz, a man of low character that he, Ned, would have crossed the road to avoid if they’d been out in the open.

  “What do you want, Snitz? I’m busy.”

  Snitz looked around theatrically.

  “Busy? Looks to me like you’ve got plenty of free time. Years, maybe, if we forget you’re here.”

  Ned said nothing, waiting for Snitz to get to the point.

  “Answer my questions and you’ll be home before breakfast. What happened at the Goat the day before yesterday? Who killed Hitton?”

  Ned gaped at him.

  “Is that it? That’s what you want to know? You’re an imbecile, Snitz. I have no fucking clue who killed Hitton because I wasn’t there. And I’ve been stuck in here most of the day so what the fuck do you think I should know?”

  “Constable Boyer, help our friend remember.”

  Snitz gestured at Ned and the lantern carrier, Constable Boyer, stepped away from the wall with a grin and backhanded Ned across the face, knocking him onto his side. He bent down, grabbed Ned’s shirt and pulled him back into a sitting position against the wall, then slapped him the other way. Boyer dragged Ned up again then stepped back to lean against the wall.

  Snitz leant forward on the chair, leaning on his knees.

  “Don’t give me any of that ‘I don’t know nothing’ horse shit. Just tell me what happened, now.”

  Ned spat blood onto the straw but said nothing. Snitz waited, then sighed.

  “Last chance, old man. Who killed Hitton?”

  Ned looked up at him and sneered.

  “As if I’d tell you, even if I knew.”

  Snitz gestured again and sat back while his colleague punched and beat Old Ned, raining blows onto his head and legs and arms. Eventually Snitz raised his hand and the beating stopped. Old Ned lay on his side, wheezing badly and bleeding from cuts all over this face. Snitz stood up and moved over to Ned’s side, crouching beside him in the filthy straw. He leant down so that he could whisper in Ned’s ear.

  “I’m going to leave you here. I’m going to forget about you while I eat your food and drink your beer and fuck your whores tonight. Somebody will talk, eventually, but this is your last chance of getting out of here alive. What happened?”

  Ned just groaned and dribbled blood. Snitz grabbed him and pulled him up so that he was sitting against the wall.

  “What happened in the Goat?”

  Ned coughed, spraying blood across his shirt and the floor. Snitz stood up and walked back to the chair.

  “You think Fangfoss cares about you? That your silence will count for something? That you’re doing him any good and that he’ll save you? You stupid old fucker.”

  Snitz walked toward the door and Boyer followed, picking up the chair as he went. Ned watched them go, then the door closed and the two men walked back down the corridor. Silence descended and Ned sank down into the rancid straw, cradling his head in his arms.

  “He wouldn’t talk, Captain,” said Snitz, “he don’t know nothing, or he ain’t ready to talk. We could try him again in the morning?”

  Captain Paltiel sat behind her desk looking up at the two men.

  “Bring him up here. We’ll see if he’ll talk to me.”

  “Right you are, Captain, but I don’t know it’ll do any good.” He gestured to Boyer, who slunk out of the office.

  “Is there anything else, Captain?”

  “Get back on the street, Snitz, and sniff around. Find out what happened at the Goat; somebody knows what went on.”

  “Yes Captain.” He saluted raggedly and left, leaving the office door open. Paltiel sat down, leaning back in her chair and resting her feet on the desk. She waited only a few minutes before Boyer reappeared dragging the unfortunate Old Ned. He stumbled into the office and Boyer pushed him down into the chair opposite Paltiel’s desk.

  “Thank you, Constable, that will be all for now. Close the door and wait outside.”

  Boyer nodded and left, closing the door behind him and leaving Paltiel alone with Old Ned. She looked at him as he slumped in the chair, taking in the fresh cuts on his face and head and the bruises that were blooming across his cheeks.

  “Well, you look like you’re having a bad day, Ned. Could it be that you didn’t give my Sergeant the information he required?”

  Ned said nothing, keeping his eyes on the floor. Paltiel stood up and walked round to the front of the desk, leaning against it so that she stood just in front of Ned. She reached out and placed her finger under his chin so that she could gently tip his head back.

  “Look at me Ned. Look at me!” she said, forcefully, focussing a little power into the charm on her finger. Ned looked up, meeting her eye for the first time. She smiled at him and pushed more power into the ring.

  “Now,” she said, quietly, “t
ell me what happened at the Goat so that we can get you out of here and let you go home. Who killed Hitton?”

  Ned coughed and dribbled blood and spit onto his shirt then said, “New man, Imperial. Name’s ‘Bay’.” He stopped to cough again. Paltiel pushed a little more power through the charm.

  “Go on. How did it happen?” she asked.

  “Don’t know. Hitton went up to his room at the Goat, there was some sort of struggle, and they found him, dead, on the floor. There was a hole right through his head, large enough to stick your finger in.”

  “And the others, Ned. How did the others die?”

  “Dunno. Tam and Chent by some sort of magic, maybe,” he paused to cough, then said “but the other one, don’t know his name, he fell off the roof while chasing Bay.”

  Paltiel sat back on the desk, letting Ned’s head flop down onto his chest.

  “And what about Gander, the man killed earlier in the day. How did that happen?”

  “Wasn’t there. Some sort of fight. Bay crushed his skull with a staff.”

  Paltiel walked back round to her seat and sat down, looking across her desk at Ned.

  “When did Bay arrive in Vensille? I haven’t heard his name before.”

  Ned lifted his head so that he could look at Paltiel again. One eye was closing and the rest of his face was a mess of blood and cuts and bruises. He looked at her with his good eye.

  “Funny thing. He arrived the day before, off a boat from upriver, and I sent him to Hitton. Thought he might be a useful man.”

  “Useful, eh? Magic and killing. What does he look like?”

  “Tall, broad. Soldier, maybe, long beard and hair. Carries a staff, knows how to use it.”

  “Hmm. And do you know where I might find this, ‘Bay’?”

  Ned shook his head slowly then stopped.

  “Think he had a room at The Jewel, near the docks.”

  Paltiel smiled slowly to herself. Name, description, lodgings; all she needed, really.

  “Boyer!” she shouted, “Get in here.”

  She waited until Boyer came in.

  “Get rid of him,” she said, nodding at Ned, “out on the streets.” Boyer nodded and dragged Ned up by the armpits, forcing him to his feet and pulling him out of the office. Paltiel could hear the old man protesting and groaning all the way down the hallway as Boyer dragged him to the front door of the Watch House. Then the door banged shut, cutting off the noise.

  Paltiel wasted no time. She strode out of her office and started issuing instructions.

  “Boyer, find Snitz. Tell him I want you two plus six others ready to go as soon as I have briefed the Commander.”

  “You got what you needed, then, Captain?” asked Boyer.

  Paltiel turned at the bottom of the stairs, one hand on the balustrade.

  “I did, Constable, I did. Now go, and make sure Snitz knows to see me once he’s assembled his squad.”

  At the top of the stairs Paltiel stopped briefly to straighten her tunic and arrange her armour, then she knocked on the Commander’s door.

  “Come in. Ah, Paltiel. What news on our mysterious killing spree?”

  She closed the door behind her and walked into the office - a bright, well-furnished room completely unlike the dark, undecorated hole she shared with the other Captains on the ground floor - to stand before Astiland’s huge desk. It truly was monstrous, a great slab of hardened mahogany, rumoured to contain a number of defensive charms and other nasty surprises for anyone mad or brave enough to confront the Commander in his own office.

  “Old Ned gave me a name, a description and an address for the killer, sir. Seems it was an outsider, an Imperial newly arrived in the city.”

  “Newly arrived Imperial?” Astiland looked deeply sceptical, “Why would he just set about killing North Enders? What possible motive could he have?”

  “Don’t know, sir. Maybe his young family were killed by gang members and he came here seeking revenge.” Astiland glared at her.

  “Sir. Sorry.”

  “So where did he come from, this Imperial revenge-seeker?”

  “Ned says upriver, arrived the day before the killings. Seems unlikely but Ned believed it was true.”

  “Well, nothing good ever comes downriver except wood and gold and iron, so maybe it’s not completely false. Right, pick him up, bring him here. I want him in chains in the cells by morning. Try not to kill him but, if you have to, well, I don’t think we’ll lose any sleep over it, eh?” Astiland smiled at her and waved her away.

  Palatial took the hint. She saluted quickly and left the office sharply, heading back downstairs to find Snitz and his platoon. She found them gathering in the courtyard at the centre of the Watch House. There were eight of them and she was surprised to see Snitz and Boyer wearing heavy armour; the other six were only lightly armoured but all were wearing swords and shields as well as carrying their more usual truncheons.

  “Are you expecting a war, Sergeant? This should be a simple arrest.”

  “Simple, Captain? He’s killed five people, from what I heard, so I ain’t taking no risks. Who are we after?”

  Paltiel smirked.

  “Have it your way. You should find him at The Jewel, you know it?” Snitz nodded.

  “He’s an Imperial, tall, broad, soldier maybe. Long hair, beard and...”

  “...and he carries a staff. Green one, about so high,” said Snitz, holding his hand up at about head height. He sighed.

  “We met him yesterday at the House of Duval.”

  “What? You had him and you let him go?”

  Snitz squirmed.

  “Not exactly, Captain, no. We didn’t know he was wanted but we tried to take him in ‘cos he was, well, difficult, but he wasn’t having any of it. He threatened us, Captain, on the street.”

  Captain Paltiel wasn’t a woman given to fits of rage but as she stood there in the courtyard listening to Snitz she was getting pretty close to being furious. She walked up to him and prodded him in the chest with her finger.

  “Threatened you? Did he use bad language as well? What are you, a bunch of bloody milkmaids? Get out there and find him, drag him back here in chains if you need to, but bloody get it done, Sergeant.”

  Snitz saluted.

  “Yes Captain, right away.” He turned and started shouting at his men, sending two of them to bring crossbows from the armoury and Boyer to round up a few more constables.

  Paltiel left them to it and returned to her office, still seething but unable to do much more. She considered accompanying Snitz but, ignorant though he might be, he was still a reasonably competent Sergeant and he should be able to handle an arrest, especially with seven or more constables in his squad. She sat down at her desk and picked up the report she’d been reading earlier.

  The Watch were going to be a problem, Marrinek knew. If he couldn’t put himself beyond their reach, and that was looking pretty unlikely at the moment, they were going to make life difficult for Duval and for him. He sat for a long time, thinking about the best way to approach the problem. Finally, he decided upon direct confrontation woven with elegant misdirection.

  Grinning, he washed and dressed in the finest of the clothes that Madame Duval had so far acquired for him. With his hair tied back and his beard freshly oiled, he strolled out of the House of Duval looking for all the world like an Imperial nobleman taking his leisure. Bone Dancer tapped the road as he walked, heading along Eastside Bath to the main Watch house on the western side of the river. He stopped thirty yards from the entrance and stood for a few minutes in the shade of the overhanging first floor of a large house.

  The watch house was a squat two-storey building set slightly back from the street behind a low wall of stone. An arched gateway led through to a courtyard. Then Sergeant Snitz emerged, leading a squad of maybe a dozen heavily armed guards onto the street. They marched quickly away, the crowds parting to let them through, and disappeared into the general hubbub. Now the courtyard and building were quiet,
subdued even, as if emptied of their driving force.

  Marrinek adjusted the set of his shoulders, gripped Bone Dancer lightly in one hand and sauntered daintily across the cobbles toward the gateway in the effete manner believed locally to be typical of Imperial nobles.

  The courtyard was empty except for a pair of horses tied to a railing in the far corner. One side of the yard was clearly stables, the second appeared to be a dormitory of some sort. On the third side, to Marrinek’s right, a wide door was propped open at the top of a short flight of steps and he picked his way carefully across the yard, avoiding the mud and manure.

  Inside was bright, the hallway lit by tall windows opening into the yard, their shutters thrown back to let in the light. A corridor ran in both directions and, not knowing exactly where he was going, Marrinek picked a direction and began walking, looking for something that might guide him to Captain Paltiel.

  “Oi, you,” said a voice from behind him, “what are you doin’ ‘ere?”

  Marrinek turned to find a young constable hurrying down the corridor toward him, a long truncheon held tightly in one hand. He coughed quietly then said in a heavy Imperial accent, “Officer, thank heavens you’re here. I have an appointment with Captain Paltiel but I have completely lost my way. Would you be so kind as to direct me, please?”

  The constable looked highly sceptical but he pointed along the corridor in the direction Marrinek had been heading.

  “Captains’ office is the last on the right. She’s probably in there.”

  “Thank you, officer, you’ve been most helpful.” Marrinek gave him a polite little bow and turned to continue along the corridor until he reached the last door. He knocked lightly then opened the door and went in.

  “Captain Paltiel?” A short, blond-haired woman dressed partly in leather armour looked up from the document she had been reading and stared at him, open-mouthed, clearly surprised to see him.

  “My name is Bay, Lord of Anceh in the Imperial Eastern Province. May I sit down?”

  Paltiel, evidently unused to having wanted men present themselves at her desk, gestured vaguely toward the chair.