by Howell, Rob
She laughed back.
“Well, we’re not a place any zupan or great official would frequent, but we can do better than that.”
“Something light for the afternoon?”
“I have just the thing.”
She jumped off of the chest, pulled out two ceramic cups that had been freshly cleaned, and turned to kneel before the chest. She rummaged in it for a moment before pulling out a small amphora. With the ease of long practice, she filled the two cups with nary a drop spilt.
“A silver dinar for the pair.”
I placed two on the bar.
“I’m also looking for a man named Ognyan. I was given his name as a potential contact in Achrida.”
She swept the dinars into her hand.
“Ognyan’s up that way, I’ll show you where.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, stranger.”
She led us up a hallway to one of the small rooms. “Ognyan, you have new visitors.”
A tall, lanky man with close-cropped gray hair and a sharp nose quickly finished a bite of his lunch and gathered together the collection of parchments on the small table before him. He got up with a look toward us that combined the welcoming guise of a kiosk hawker and the sharp crenellations of mental defenses worthy of the Great City.
“Thank you, dear.”
As the bartender had let us pass, she had stepped to a point where one of the daggers I believed she had handy could have been used on either Gabrijela or me. I also noted how smoothly she made sure Ognyan needed no help before leaving. No wonder this bar attracted merchants and factors.
He allowed us to settle into seats opposite him, sipping his own wine.
“How may I help you?”
His oddly precise diction occasionally hinted at his Lezhan origins. His delicate and controlled manner reminded me of Sanjin, the butler of the Gropas.
Before I could respond, he rephrased his question. “Perhaps I should say, how may I help Gibroz?”
With raised eyebrows I responded, “Why do you think we are working for Gibroz?”
He looked at me silently for a moment. “Please do not take me for a fool. You come here with Gabrijela, Gibroz’s most trusted advisor and a wizard to boot, and you attempt to dissemble?”
Gabrijela looked shocked.
“Few people know me or my face.”
“In my life, knowledge might mean survival.”
She stared at him. “Few people also can control their emotions as you can.”
“I lead an interesting life.”
“Yes.” He looked back at me. “And who are you?”
Clearly there was no reason to continue with the pretense we had planned.
“I am, as you surmised, working for Gibroz.”
“Alongside Gabrijela.”
I nodded.
“So what you are doing for Gibroz must be important.”
“Yes.”
“It must involve a great deal of money.”
“I don’t know the amounts. I do know both Gibroz and Ylli take the amount seriously.”
He leaned back. “Both Gibroz and Ylli? I suspect you lead an interesting life, as well.”
“More than I wish.”
“Perhaps we can arrange a transaction.”
“Yes? What do we have to offer each other?”
“Information.”
“What do I know that you want to know?”
“I want to know why you’re here talking to me. I have suspicions, but I need to confirm them.”
Before I could answer, an old woman knocked at the entrance. Ognyan waved her in. The extensive food stains on her clothes suggested her profession. She bowed so deeply to us that her charm of a six-legged, horned goat-like creature escaped her tunic. She stuffed it back in place before taking Ognyan’s lunch dishes from his desk and leaving quietly.
I was grateful for her interruption, as it gave me time to think before responding to Ognyan’s question. I had no doubt that he wanted answers to his questions. From his perspective, this might be his one warning of a terrible, swift storm. I, on the other hand, needed not only answers but also security.
“In return, I need two things. I need my questions answered and the fact that I’m asking these questions to remain private between us.”
“I’m not sure that’s fair value.”
“It might not be, at least normally. Given what I know about you, however, I believe my information will be sufficiently worthy.”
“What you know about me?’”
I nodded.
He thought for a long moment about what I could know of him and finally responded with but one word: “Fascinating.”
We looked at Gabrijela.
“Fascinating?” I asked.
“Yes. He is clearly worried about what you know, yet I can only see hints of it from his emotions. I’m not feeling anything blocking me, only that he is amazingly controlled.”
Ognyan smiled.
“Thank you, gospardarica.”
“Do we have a deal, Ognyan?”
“We do, gospadar.”
I took a deep breath. “Excellent. I am here because someone is messing with both Ylli and Gibroz. Currently, Gibroz does not believe he is getting all of the money Ylli owes him for trading across the Kopayalitsa. Ylli believes he is paying the correct amount. I have been asked to find who is lying, because someone must be.”
“Ah.”
“You are a logical place to start, so I am here. I had intended to approach the question obliquely, but your recognition of Gabrijela prevented that. However, since you know her, you know I’m not lying when I say I’m working for him. I also have this token of Ylli’s to convince you I’m speaking for him, too.”
He nodded in recognition of the token. Then he leaned back with a small smile aimed at Gabrijela. “I suspect you might have seen hints of my emotions as I was speaking.”
She nodded and he glanced back at me.
“You were right. Your information is sufficiently worthy. Gospardarica, I want to ensure there is no confusion or doubt about what I am about to say, so…”
He consciously released his will. Gabrijela’s eyes opened wide.
“Oh… Ah… So that’s how…” She caught herself mumbling and turned to me. “Ask your questions.”
“Are you still passing money from Ylli to Gibroz?”
He nodded.
“Are you passing the full amounts?”
“Am I cheating either Ylli or Gibroz, you mean?”
I nodded.
“No, I am not,” he said emphatically, looking directly at Gabrijela. “I am passing the amounts that I am instructed to deliver to the people I am supposed to. I have not, nor will I ever, steal from my client.”
“If he’s lying, there’s no hint I can see from his emotions,” confirmed Gabrijela.
“Are you involved in assembling the money for Ylli? Or in figuring out what Ylli owes Gibroz?”
He shook his head.
“No, I receive an amount of cash from each of Ylli’s caravan masters. I record that amount in a ledger that I give to Ylli periodically so he can double-check the amounts.”
“What if Ylli’s caravan masters lie to you about the amount and tell Ylli or Gibroz something different than your records show?”
“I assume Ylli tracks that. If there’s a discrepancy, I assume he communicates that with Gibroz directly. He does not tell me. I will say that even were I not an honest businessman, I would not wish to cross Ylli. He has killed two factors before me that I know of for cheating him, my predecessor here in Achrida and one in Basilopolis.”
“Then what?”
“I take that money and give it to one of three people who work for Gibroz. And sometimes one other person.”
“Who are they?”
He drummed his fingers on the table briefly and sighed. “For Gibroz, I usually give the money to Isidora. Sometimes she is too busy, so I have to deal with Sava. Rarely, Markov w
ants me to give him the money directly.”
“Isidora?”
Gabrijela touched my arm and smiled.
“You know her?”
She nodded.
“How about Sava?”
She looked at Ognyan. “The cooper?”
He nodded. “Yes, I have to deal with him often enough for legal reasons anyway.”
“Who is the one other?”
Ognyan sighed. “Now I have to request privacy.”
“I won’t tell anyone other than Gibroz, and if needed, Ylli.”
“Acceptable. I assume Gibroz already knows and I am Ylli’s factor, so I always tell him what I know. I sometimes am directed to give cash to Jeremena.”
“Of the Gropas?”
He nodded.
“Why would you be instructed to give her money?”
“I do not know. You might ask Gabrijela.”
She smiled at him, with a shake of the head to me. I turned back to Ognyan.
“Who instructs you?”
“Isidora tells me. How she gets the information, I do not know.”
“What happens to the money after you hand it off?”
“I do not know.”
“But you keep track of it.”
He smiled. “I keep track of when and where I have given it away. I keep three duplicate ledgers of all my transactions for Ylli and Gibroz. I do not want either to believe I am cheating him.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t want that either. Gibroz keeps telling me he’s going to toss me in the lake anyway.”
Ognyan smiled again. “Part of his charm, no doubt.”
I laughed again. “You don’t touch the money?”
“I count it when I receive it with the caravan masters. We log the amount. Then I count it again when I pass it on, joined by whoever receives it, and we log it at that point.”
I nodded. “That seems like a fairly secure system.”
“Yes, for all of us. Ylli and Gibroz have confirmation, while I have protection.”
We sat and thought about all of this for a moment. I stroked my beard. I may have hated it, but I now knew why bearded men always stroked their chins when they were thinking.
With nothing else to ask, I decided it was time to leave.
“Gabrijela and I are here to show you these.” I opened the satchel with the cotton samples.
He looked at them. “Yes, these are nice. And we have spent the past hour or so discussing costs and logistics.”
I nodded, smiled, and rose. Gabrijela rose with me.
“Nice talking business with you.”
He smiled back. “Yes. May we both prosper.”
Chapter 34
Afternoon, 1 Simmermoanne, 1712 MG
We walked out to a pleasant light rain.
“You know Isidora?”
Gabrijela chuckled. “Of course, one of Gibroz’s most useful relatives.”
“How is she related?”
“Some sort of distant aunt or cousin. I’m not sure. She’s quite mad.”
“And Gibroz trusts her with money?”
A broader laugh. “Oh, her madness has nothing to do with that. She’s also quite intelligent, I think, she’s just… well, you’ll find out.”
“How?”
“You’ll see.”
“We’re going to visit her?”
Gabrijela nodded.
“We had a plausible reason to visit Ognyan. Do we have a reason to visit Isidora?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll be where?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right beside you.”
“What do I need to find out from Isidora?”
“You need to confirm what Ognyan said. You need to find out who she passes the money to.”
“Don’t you already know that? Assuming Ognyan is not lying…”
“He isn’t.”
“Since Ognyan’s not lying, the problem is somewhere among Gibroz’s people.”
“Yes. And yes, it’s true I know how the system is supposed to work. However, we’re looking for problems in the system, gaps where it’s failing. If you ask them, and we compare those answers to what I expect to hear, then it’s possible we’ll find something out of place.”
“Makes sense. In that case, were Ognyan’s answers what you expected to hear?”
“In general, yes. Gibroz has used Isidora as a contact for as long as I have worked for him. Sava as well. I did not know that Markov occasionally took the payments directly, but I’m not surprised. It’s the kind of task that Gibroz has him do. I knew we sent money to Jeremena at times, but I wasn’t sure how. I’m a little surprised Ognyan pays money to her directly, though.”
“When the time comes, it might be best that you deal with Jeremena. She’s never liked me, and pointing out Pal’s activities did not make her any more fond of me.”
Gabrijela patted my arm with a chuckle. “Her loss, my dear.”
Such sparkling eyes. Eyes that I noticed without her magic influencing me this time. Fortunately, as a trained warrior I managed not to trip over anything large, like, say, a pebble, as we walked.
Our walk was not very long. We were aiming for a garishly painted building I had noticed before when walking through the Stracara…
“Edward! Watch out!”
Gabrijela’s warning gave me enough time to push her against a wall behind me, pull Jovanka’s longer dagger, and get set for six men striding around the garish building.
Any hopes that at least one of them might charge too rashly were doomed when they all stopped in relatively good order. They were armed with short swords significantly longer than my dagger, and, worse yet, they were clearly used to working as a team.
With Gabrijela behind me, I could not simply escape to one side, and frankly, in the brief moment I had to think, I could not discern a way out of this for either of us.
Then two things happened.
First, I felt Gabrijela doing something. I was not sure exactly what, but suddenly I felt frightened. Not so frightened that I could not act, but terrified nonetheless.
Apparently, I was not the only to feel that fear: all six of the men before me hesitated. The leftmost one cringed and fled. Another saw his flight and followed him.
Now their formation was ragged, and the other man to my left turned to curse at the two who ran. I took the chance and jumped at him, catching his sword hand with my left, and stabbing deeply into his body.
The squishing sound as I sheathed the dagger in his body ended any hesitation the other three might have had.
I had guessed that my jump would expose my right, and in desperation I used a trick Desimir had shown me. Rather than pull the dagger out, I let go of it and brought my right hand to the right side of the cutpurse’s neck. A quick step with my right leg and I had a fulcrum to pull him over, which conveniently covered my right side.
The dying man’s body deflected a sword thrust but unfortunately didn’t stop it. It skipped off of the body and along one of my ribs. Any of Gabrijela’s fear that remained was driven away by the pain.
I grabbed the dying man’s sword from his loosening fingers and swept it blindly but swiftly to my right. I twisted the blade vertical to block the thrust I knew would follow the one to my ribs.
I was rewarded with a solid clunk of colliding steel and a curse of frustration, and I turned to face the voice.
Radovan, I noted, was somehow there again. He had already driven his sword into the rightmost of our attackers and was proceeding to the next in line.
I took advantage of the slight distraction and thrust at the one before me. He jumped back slightly, with a wild but successful block.
The sword was too short for me to simply flip my wrist for an easy following shot. I had to get past the body to get to the man. Stepping over a body is not particularly difficult or dangerous, even if it is still writhing on the cobblestones, but the task becomes more challenging if you must not allow someone wielding a sword any openings while doing
so.
Nevertheless, I had to step forward or he would have the chance to attack Gabrijela. Bravely, she had pulled her own dagger, but her grip suggested she had spent little time studying the art. Very little time.
I made the grisly first step onto the man’s hip and a quick hop over. Suddenly, I was face-to-face with my next opponent, a little closer than either of us wanted, but I had the advantage of knowing when I’d reach that point, and the shortest of thrusts allowed me to rake up his sword arm, forcing him to drop his blade and step back.
That gave me a view as Radovan flicked his sword across the sword of the last of the six, driving it far to the side. He took advantage by rolling his wrist into a perfect thrust straight into the man’s belly.
My opponent decided it was time to join his fleeing friends, and he ran away as I turned.
Then I heard a sound I shall never forget. Radovan screamed in agony.
I turned and realized not six, but eight people had attacked us, and they had set a trap for anyone who decided to join in the fight. Radovan stood there, blood streaming down his side as he viciously swept his sword into the throat of the man who had stabbed him. They both went down in a widening pool of blood.
That left one, and I wanted him dead quickly so I jumped at him, expecting to gain another cut but hoping it would be survivable. He thrust at me, and I twisted to avoid it as best I could. His blade ground along another rib just above the first cut.
I ignored this fresh pain as I stabbed deep into his chest. Had there been any other attackers, the strike would have been stupid as well as effective, for the blade lodged in his ribs. Yet effective it remained, and no other attackers threatened, at least for the moment.
I turned immediately to Radovan, tearing the remains of my tunic off of me. I stuck it into his wound.
“Gabrijela, get help.”
“What? How?”
“I don’t know, just get help, dammit.”
She hesitated in her confusion and fatigue from her spell.
“Gabrijela, look at me.”
She did.
“I’ve already had someone die to save me in this damn city. I’m not letting it fucking happen again. If you don’t get help, I swear by the Judge of Princes I’ll burn this damn place down with you and Gibroz and everyone else in it!”
