Blood Under Water

by Toby Frost

  Edwin frowned. “A bear, perhaps?”

  What the hell would a bear be doing here? Giulia checked herself. “It’s possible, I suppose. It could have been some sort of big cat, too. Maybe even a griffon. I don’t know. But it was claws, not a knife. Someone set something on him, or else they made it look as if they did.”

  “But why?” Elayne said. “I mean, I don’t know anything about this sort of thing, but if you wanted to kill someone, you’d just – I don’t know – stab him or something, wouldn’t you? Almost everyone carries a knife of some sort. If you did that, it could be anyone, couldn’t it?”

  She looked from face to face as if appealing to them to prove her wrong.

  Giulia nodded. “That’s what I’d have thought. But someone must have really wanted him dead to mess him up that way.” She shook her head, remembering the furrows in the corpse’s chest. “Something.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” Hugh said. He rubbed his hands together. “Edwin and I are rather knowledgeable when it comes to slaying beasts. It couldn’t have been a wyvern, could it?” He sounded hopeful.

  “Look at this.” Giulia opened her bag and took out the clay tile. She removed the cloth and pushed the tile across to Edwin and Elayne. Hugh leaned over to get a better view. Giulia said, “Anyone know what this is?”

  “Hmm,” said Hugh. “What is it, a roof tile?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The old knight smoothed down his moustache. “Where did you find it?”

  “It was in the Watch-house. Last night I saw one of their captains, a big fat man, taking it off the priest’s body. I thought it might be worth looking at.”

  “You stole from the Watch?” Edwin said.

  Hugh was grinning. “That’s Giulia for you.”

  Edwin flopped back in his chair. “I don’t believe this. How the hell do you expect to get them on our side if you steal from them?”

  Giulia said, “I don’t. They’re not on our side, and they don’t want to be: in five days’ time they’ll come back here to string us up. All of us. The only reason we’ve not already got dropped is because of Elayne’s magic. Right now, we need anything we can get. If that means stealing, so be it. Or were you thinking of fighting the whole Watch when they come back, and all the soldiers they’ll have with them?”

  Edwin sucked angrily on his pipe. “Of course not.”

  “All right, then. Besides, how are they to know it was me who took it?” She smiled at Edwin. He continued to scowl. Elayne put her hand on his arm. Giulia said, “So, can anyone tell me what this thing is?” She leaned back and let them look at the tile.

  “It’s a picture of some sort,” Edwin said, to no-one in particular. “There’s a man, and he’s on the ground, and another man, and… it looks like they’ve had a fight…”

  “It’s certainly not from Alexendom,” Elayne said, peering at the stone. “Not dwarrow or dryad either.” She pressed her fingertips to it. “It doesn’t feel magical, either. Could it come from the Indies or the New World, perhaps?”

  Something seemed to move in the back of Giulia’s mind. Someone told me something like that, about a new world…

  “Definitely looks foreign,” Hugh said.

  Edwin sighed. “We’re abroad, Hugh. Everything within a thousand miles is foreign.”

  “The New World,” Giulia said. Of course – the dryad dancing girl, in that pub. When she’d met Father Coraldo, he’d asked her about the “new order of the world.” She must have misheard him.

  Elayne pushed the tile aside with her long, clean fingers. “The southern island, that is. Maidenland takes up the north island; we have a peace treaty with their king. Their pictures don’t look like this. As to the south, though… I don’t know.”

  Giulia leaned back in her chair. “Do you think that’s what they killed him for?”

  “Who knows?” said Hugh. “I suppose it’s possible.”

  “Whatever it is, you’d best keep it hidden,” Edwin said. “If it’s worth stealing, it must have some value.”

  Giulia nodded. “I will, don’t worry. It means something, but until we know what, it’s staying out of view.” She yawned.

  “We should all get to bed,” Elayne said. “It’s late.”

  “Good idea.” Hugh moved towards the door.

  “Wait,” Giulia said. “I overheard two people talking while I was in the Watch station. One was the Watch captain – the same man I saw taking this thing off the priest when they pulled him out the canal. The other one I didn’t recognise. I’d know him if I saw him again, though.”

  “Did you get a name?” Edwin asked.

  Giulia shook her head. “Only a title. The other one called him ‘Procurator’. Falsi mentioned him, I think.”

  Edwin and Elayne glanced at one another. “I know what that is,” Edwin said. “That’s to do with the Council.”

  “Council?”

  He nodded. “The Council of a Hundred. They rule Averrio. It’s them that advise the Closed Council, and the Closed Council advises the Decimus. I think the procurator’s some sort of lawyer. They find things out, tell the Council what the law is, stuff like that. He’s a serious man around these parts.”

  “Could I talk to him? He sounded like he could get us out of here.”

  “I’ve no idea. I doubt you could just walk in there. You’d need a recommendation, I suppose.”

  “I see.” Giulia glanced at her bag. “How about a letter from the Watch?”

  Edwin laughed. “I’m sure that would work perfectly. The question is whether they’d write it for you.”

  “They might not have to,” Giulia said. She sighed. “I’m still not sure what’s going on, but maybe I’m closer than I was. I’ve learned a few things this evening – but what any of it means, I don’t know.”

  “It’s very good of you to do it, anyway,” Elayne said. “You took a big risk. We’re grateful.”

  “Thanks.” Giulia felt oddly flattered. She stood up. “Well, I need to get some sleep – a lot of it. If nobody minds, I’ll take this with me.”

  She gathered up the tile and crossed to the door. “Goodnight, everyone.”

  “Yes, goodnight,” said Hugh. “Think I’ll turn in too.” He nodded to Edwin and leaned in to kiss Elayne on the cheek. “Night, all.”

  Outside, in the corridor, Giulia said, “Are you all right, Hugh?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Why?”

  “You’re sure? It can’t be much fun, being kept locked up in here.”

  Noise floated up from downstairs, the sound of drunkenness in the bar.

  “No,” he said thoughtfully, “it’s not ideal. Still, it’s good to see Edwin and Elayne again. Just a shame about all this.”

  She lifted the lantern down from its hook on the wall. “Why don’t you go down and get us something to drink, Hugh? I’ve never seen you go to bed sober before.”

  He smiled. “Excellent idea. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Giulia walked to her room and closed the door behind her. Poor bastard, she thought as she lit up the candles. So much for the big reunion.

  She sat down on the edge of the bed. She felt weak, her limbs heavy and loose, her head aching slightly from lack of sleep. Will I end up like Hugh, she thought, stuck looking for mercenary work while the people around me get on with their lives and leave me behind?

  The Melancholia stirred within her, gathering its strength. She exhaled and rubbed her eyes, tried to point her thoughts elsewhere. She tried not to think about the Watch, about the free world outside, about the chances of a pauper with a faceful of scars getting some money, a home, a man. She tried not to think about Marcellus, who had liked her in a way, and who she’d told that it would never work out. He was still in Pagalia, recognised as the genius he was, building machines for the new prince and probably now the most
eligible man in the principality.

  I’m sure it did work out, for you.

  That was the thing with the Melancholia: the same images kept rolling through your mind like teeth on the same cog. Hugh and Elayne – missing her chance with Marcellus – her future shrinking down into this shabby prison of an inn—

  Someone knocked on the door.

  It was Hugh. The knight had a bottle of wine and two cups.

  As he poured the wine, Giulia opened her satchel. She took out the piece of paper on which she’d made the imprint of the Watch captain’s seal and examined the quality of the stamp.

  “Here we go,” Hugh said, holding out a cup.

  “Thanks.” Giulia took a sip. “Your good health.” She drank. “They seem like decent people, your friends.”

  “They are. Good sorts.”

  “She’s a friendly girl – woman – that Elayne.”

  “Yes, very pleasant.”

  “Distinctive-looking.” She took another drink. The wine tasted bitter and cheap, but she was glad to have it all the same. “It must be strange seeing her again. Hugh, were you and her ever, you know…”

  “Yes, for a little while. I used to court her, back in the day. Like in the books.”

  “And you were friends with Edwin back then?”

  “Yes, good friends. We had some adventures together.” Hugh leaned back, a little distant. He was no longer wholly in the room: part of him thundered across a plain under a vast and open sky, calling to his comrades above the wind. “Yes, we did some pretty wild things, although I say so myself. I remember there was this madman keeping a woman locked in a tower, and we had to fight some kind of drake to get past, Edwin and me.” He refilled his cup. “Hell of a scrap it was, too.”

  “Was that Elayne, in the tower?”

  “Oh, no. I met Elayne much later, when I was recovering after a raid we did. I was with a marine party in the war, attacking an Inquisition port. I took a hit to the head, and when I came round… well, there she was, looking down at me. She’d come to help heal the wounded, you see. We got on well, and we just sort of went from there. Excellent company, she was. Pretty, and a good laugh, too.” He looked into his glass. “Didn’t make a very good job of it, though. Can’t even remember ever telling her she looked good, for God’s sake, and you have to do that with women, don’t you?”

  “It helps,” Giulia said.

  Hugh frowned like a master-craftsman inspecting shoddy work. “I’ve never been good with women. Just not in my nature, you know? I’m only really good at killing things. My own fault, really.”

  “I’m sorry it turned out that way.”

  He shrugged. “Not to worry. Probably for the best in the long run. She’s better off with old Edwin. He looks after her.”

  “But it’s not better for you, is it?”

  “Could be worse, I suppose. She’s happy, at least.”

  “Look, Hugh, don’t you think that perhaps you ought to, you know, find someone else? There’s a lot of ladies out there, you know.”

  “Hmm. Think I’ll turn in now,” Hugh said, getting up. “Thanks for the wine, Giulia.”

  “It was you that bought it, Hugh.”

  “Yes. Right. Well… thanks for listening to me spouting off, anyway.”

  “Any time. Goodnight.”

  FIVE

  Lieutenant Falsi strolled into the Watch-house just after dawn, half an apple in his hand. As he entered the hall, two men struggled out of the side door, carrying a long bundle between them. It looked a little like a rolled-up rug, but Falsi knew what, and who, it really was. No mistaking a corpse, he thought, and he took another bite of his apple.

  “Morning, Rupe; morning, Seb. Taking our wandering preacher out for his final service?”

  “That’s right, Boss.” The nearer man grunted. “They’re rowing him out to the Isle of Graves this morning. Talk about hearts of iron – this bugger weighs about a ton. Hey, you’ll like this – they found Louis this morning in the armoury. That stupid whoreson was training drunk last night – so drunk he fell over and passed out!”

  “Bloody Louis. That man’s a halfwit. I’ll give you a hand getting the preacher underground.”

  “No.”

  Falsi turned.

  Captain Orvo stood in the doorway of the Watch-house. “You’re walking the shops round Printers’ Way today. Cafaro’s taking care of the body.” The captain looked down at the corpse. “From pulpit to poor-pit, all in two days.” He shook his head. “I need a word with you.”

  “Of course.” Falsi followed him into the Watch-house. Behind him, Rupe wished Falsi good luck. Falsi pretended that he hadn’t heard.

  They trudged up the stairs, past the mess-room, up to the second floor. Orvo opened his office door and they stepped inside.

  “Problem, sir?” Falsi said as he closed the door. Out with it, he thought.

  “Maybe,” Orvo said. He sat down. “’Tonio, do you know if anyone has keys for this room besides me?”

  “No-one, I think. I don’t. Why?”

  “I’ve lost something. I was sure I’d put it down here, shut it away, in fact. It’s a square made out of clay, like a tile. It’s got a picture of two fellows fighting on it, carved into it.”

  “I’ll keep an eye open.”

  “It’s not valuable – not money-wise, anyhow. It’s got sentimental value to me. Just tell me if you find it, will you?”

  “I will, sir.” Falsi moved towards the door.

  “One more thing.”

  Falsi stopped. Here it comes. “Yes?”

  “Those four you brought in about the dead priest: am I right in thinking you put them under house arrest?”

  Falsi braced himself. “That’s right. They’re at the Old Arms, down by—”

  “I know where it is. I just wondered why you let them stay there.” Orvo raised his eyebrows. It was meant to look chummy, to take the edge off the question. It didn’t.

  “Well, sir, it seemed like the best thing to do. We couldn’t just keep them here. They’re down there under strict orders not to leave. If they try anything, they’re dead men. And women. I mean, they’re not going anywhere, and if they do, we’ll know it. The innkeep’s one of ours.”

  “Hmm. That’s not what Cafaro said. He said you gave one of the women the run of the city to clear her name.”

  Falsi said, “Yes, I did do that.” I just wish I knew why. “She’s got to come back, though. She’s close to the others. She won’t abandon them.”

  “What did she offer in return, might I ask?”

  “Nothing, sir.”

  “Nothing at all? Are you sure? I mean, it happens sometimes, right? You do the trawl, bring in some whore or other, she’s got no money to pay a fine, so one makes an, er, an arrangement—”

  “No. I just thought they deserved a fair chance.” He stopped, aware how stupid he sounded. “I doubt it’ll make much difference in the end.”

  Orvo said nothing. He cupped his chins in his hand, as if testing their weight. “Can you move this along a bit? Get them back in here, perhaps?”

  “Why? I mean, they’ll swing at the end of the week as it is – it just makes us look better to give them a chance. Besides,” he added, “I gave them my word, and they gave me theirs. I don’t think they’ll try to run. They’ve got a ship in the harbour, for one thing.”

  “Fair enough. But I want this finished. Come the end of the week, they need to be in the courthouse in the morning and on the scaffold by midday.”

  Why? Why do you care so much? “I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Good. You do that.” Orvo picked at a scab on his thumb. “Tell me about this woman, then. The one who’s meant to be saving their hides.”

  “She’s called Giulia Degarno. Youngish, but not really young. She looks like a cat tore her up. Serious
ly, she’s got two scars running down her left cheek, like this.” He made a V with his fingers and laid them against his face, secretly enjoying giving the captain the Bowman’s Salute. “You’d know her if you saw her, believe me. Apparently she’s a thief-taker up from Pagalia – personally, I think she’s one of those bodyguards some noblewomen get – you know, dressed up as ladies’ maids and the like.”

  “Really? I’d like to meet these people.” Orvo stood up. His eyes moved to Falsi’s pistol. “You’re still wearing that cannon, I see. Let’s go and make sure they haven’t overslept.”

  He stepped out of the office, Falsi following. Orvo carefully locked the door behind him. As he started towards the stairs, Falsi considered bending down to see whether the lock was scratched, but the captain turned to face him before he had the chance. “Coming?”

  “Right away,” Falsi said, and he followed Orvo downstairs.

  ***

  Giulia dreamed. She was standing on a bed, looking out of an open window at a storm. There were trees outside and a thin man was dancing in them, a lurching puppet’s dance that made her afraid even though it looked absurd.

  Thunder pounded on wooden walls. The capering man was gone: outside, she could see the moon. Giulia shifted and the dream was gone. She was lying in bed, the hem of a blanket tickling her ear. Thunder again – no, not thunder, a fist beating at her door.

  A woman’s voice. “Giulia! Wake up!”

  She sat up, grabbed her stiletto from beside the bed and slipped it under the sheet. “What’s going on?”

  “Giulia, it’s Elayne. The Watch are here!”

  “I’m coming.”

  She dressed quickly: long dress, white undershirt and boots. There was only time to strap her knife inside her sleeve and shove the things she’d stolen last night under the pillow before she heard feet clattering on wood. She opened the door to her room, not quite alert enough to be properly afraid.

  Hugh stood on the landing. He held a scabbarded sword before him, barring the way up the stairs. Edwin loomed behind him, hands open. Elayne stood beside them, in a long gown.