Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1)
Page 6
Arjun winced at the pain where Enlil’s foot had connected, but took it as the lesson it was. He looked up at Enlil, who stepped back again, guard up, and spoke.
“I can see you have some formal training, student, but I suspect little involving fighting with no rules. You will learn how to pay better attention, so that you are not caught by surprise by such simple tricks.”
“Yes, master Enlil.”
“Good. Now, stand up, and we shall take a more formal approach to discover the full extent of your previous training. I promise no more such surprises for the first week of your instruction, but after that, you must be on your guard.”
Arjun rose, mastered the pain in his side, and spent a long morning being methodically tested by Enlil to see what moves he’d learned in his old training. As the heat of the day rose, Arjun felt himself getting tired, and sweat poured down his bare shoulders and chest. Despite the pain of the kick he’d gotten, he was glad he wasn’t wearing armor like Enlil. However, if the older man was tired or felt any discomfort, he gave no sign, but instead coolly continued testing Arjun with various slashes, thrusts, and feints, in differing combinations. It was a testament to Enlil’s skill that he brought his blade to Arjun’s neck or chest many times, but never cut him.
They broke for lunch in the shade of a portico on the south side of Enlil’s courtyard. Enlil offered no conversation. Arjun took this as it was, and ate in silence as well.
Sometime after they’d finished eating, Enlil rose.
“Now, student, you shall learn the very basics of fighting technique, as I teach them. It will be simple and repetitive, but we are going to undo the deficiencies of your previous training, and begin anew.”
Arjun bowed, and they began.
Hours later, as dusk approached, Enlil stopped without warning, stepped back with his guard up, and spoke.
“And now I have gained knowledge of both what you already know, and how well you are capable of learning. Tomorrow begins your real training with the sword. If you wish to learn other weapons, you must now obtain them. Return at first light.”
Arjun bowed and left.
On his way back to the House of Red, he stopped by the tiny filthy shop of one of Inina’s many friends, a hard-faced old woman who spoke little. From her he purchased a plain bronze dagger. It was sturdy, but of foreign workmanship. On closer inspection he saw it was in the style of Ershum, and considered the likely source. He smiled ruefully to himself. Zakran was a vast place, but sometimes it was a small world.
~
For some weeks after he began his training, Arjun’s life settled into a new sort of routine. Each morning, he would rise before dawn and walk to the house of Enlil. There he would spend the day repeating fighting moves over and over again, until he could do them without thought. After the first week, they also spent part of the day in unstructured sparring, so that Arjun could apply what he’d learned. Enlil was fast, cunning, and pitiless. He threw tricks into his fights and Arjun went home many times with bruises from an unexpected kick, trip, sweep, or punch. Many other times Arjun was surprised to find the very sword he’d thought he’d dodged resting against his neck, heart, or vitals.
In the evenings he shopped for necessities, among them healing poultices, and he reluctantly decided, a leather cap and breastplate. At night when he had the energy, he would visit Inina, and the two of them took to wandering the streets in conversation. Sometimes his day caught up with him, and he had to excuse himself to sleep, at other times, she said it was time to go to work, and she would depart.
One night, he decided to argue with her about it.
“Inina, isn’t there some other way you can live besides petty theft?”
“Actually, I don’t do that much outright stealing, mostly I con the gullible and greedy out of their money. As you’ve noticed, people usually like me. And, don’t forget the honest work I do guiding visitors to my friends among the traders and peddlers.”
Arjun ignored questions about the honesty of that last sort of work, and addressed the first. “You may talk them into letting you steal from them, or trick them in some way through their own greed, but it is still stealing.”
“I still have to eat, and honest trades are hard to come by for a girl who grew up on the streets. As I saw it, it was either learn to survive by my skill and wits, or end up begging or in a brothel.”
“All right. How much do you make, really, at it?”
Inina looked embarrassed. “Well, I suppose on average, about ten or fifteen copper moons a night, sometimes a lot more, and sometimes nothing. Out of that, I have to make payoffs to the local guards and a couple of minor officials, and I spend some of it on gifts to make sure a few of my friends stay my friends. So… I guess really closer to a silver moon a night to live on.”
Arjun looked at her, reminded himself not to get lost in her beauty and to stay focused on his line of thought. “And besides the confidence games and kickbacks, you’ve done some actual sneaking around, getting into places unseen, hiding, things like that?”
She looked at him quizzically, “Well, I learned a long time ago not to rob from anywhere around here, and lately I’ve thought it was easier and safer to wait for marks to come here than to go pilfering halfway across town. But… yes, I’ve done a lot of sneaking and hiding in my life.”
She stopped, and touched his arm. “But what’s your point with all this?”
“Instead of taking risks every night doing things that make my conscience itch, why not work for me?”
“Huh?”
“I’ll pay you two silver a night to train me for a few hours on how to move with stealth, to hide, and how to break into places quietly.”
Inina stared at him in skeptical confusion, “I thought you disapproved of such things, and now you want to learn them? You won’t make money at it paying for the privilege…”
“I said nothing about wanting to make money. What I want with such skills is something else entirely,” he said, with a dangerous edge rising in his mind and voice.
She looked disturbed, and concerned.
“Arjun, I mean Sharur, when are you going to sleep, and where are you going to get the money? That gold in your bags has got to run out sometime.”
“I have gems in there too. Even at the rate I’m spending, I can live a very long time on what I have. As for sleep, I will find it where I can.”
“I… well, all right. I’ll do it.
~
Bal-Shim smiled as he watched the work in progress at Ashur’s former residence. Everything of any value was being pried up, stripped down and collected for sale. When that was done, he’d sell the house and grounds. Because it was hard to get anyone but a bronze maker to live along this street, and because the other bronze makers were no longer willing to work with him, he might not get the price he wanted. But since he’d gotten it for free, any price was a profitable price, and he’d find someone.
At Bal-Shim’s side was a tall gaunt man with hollow cheeks, a very long beard plaited with silver, deep-set eyes under thick black brows, and somber gray and brown robes trimmed in blocky runes made of lead and copper. He spoke in a soft voice.
“You are wasting no time, Bal-Shim.”
“On the off chance that the wheels of the council somehow turn against us, and Ashur is released, I want to get every last coin out before it happens.”
Besides, thought Bal-Shim, it was much easier and less tedious than actually running a business. He’d never really had the patience for it himself, and the fools he hired could manage running his simple show operation, but keeping Ashur’s going, let alone getting it to make money, was beyond their skill or his interest.
The other man spoke again, “You are being needlessly fearful, son of Shulggi. With each passing week we and our friends grow stronger, and thereby the chance of anything turning against us on the council grows less.”
“Still,” said Bal-Shim, “It wouldn’t do to have Ashur released. Not while the other b
ronze makers are still in business and a force to be reckoned with.”
“In time,” said the other, “that will cease to be a problem, and the making of bronze will pass from the hands of the followers of Zamisphar into yours.”
Bal-Shim thought happily of the wealth that might mean, though he might have to take the unpleasant step of hiring more overseers to run at least some the businesses. Bronze making was not the most important trade in Zakran, but it was important enough that even some of his friends would balk if it collapsed entirely. He hated the thought of having to put money into businesses instead of stripping them clean of it for more… pleasant purposes, but so be it.
The other man interrupted his thoughts, “But at the moment, Bal-Shim, I agree with you regarding the matter of Ashur dra Artashad. It might be time to make his removal more… irrevocable.”
Bal-Shim considered that, and then something else, “Ah, but there’s another problem. Ashur’s arrogant whelp! Where’s he gotten to? He had some little rat hole to crawl through and escape this house, and sooner or later we’ll find it. But, what’s he been up to since?”
The other looked unconcerned, “He is little more than a boy is he not? I think he will be up to little of use. Still, there are many possibilities. Perhaps he is cowering, or dreaming ill-conceived dreams of revenge. He might have fled the city to foreign lands, from whence he would no doubt hope to return some day and strike at you, though more likely he would end up dead or a beggar.”
Unlike the other man, Bal-Shim knew Ashur’s son, and took the problem more seriously, “I hope you’re right, but I think we should make greater efforts to look for him.”
7. The Tale of Audacity
Arjun walked through the grand bazaar at dusk, heading for the stall of Umrub the G’abudim. Voices called out in sale of goods from every corner of the world. The scent of spices and amber mixed with those of cedar and smoked meats. Strings of beads hung from hooks, silver boxes gleamed in the sun, and fabrics of many colors sat in rolls before strange-clad figures. Parrots squawked in cages and snakes hissed in baskets. All the folk of the world might be found here, and sometimes, he thought, all the thieves.
But he was more watchful now. Training with Inina had already taught him a few things, and when the pickpockets attempted to ply their trade, he was watching them. Every few days he had come here, to visit Umrub. The secretive G’abudim was not much of a conversationalist, but on two occasions, he’d had stones from Kartam dra Argesh. In each case, the messages had said merely that his father was alive, but still in captivity.
He approached Umrub’s stall. G’abudim traded mainly in spices and medicines, though Arjun had heard they also dealt in poisons. Umrub, like most G’abudim men, was on the shorter side, solidly built, clean shaven on face and head, and more darkly complexioned than any Hayyidi, though not so dark as the tall seafarers from far Amshala. He was wearing his folk’s normal garb – an array of amulets, a kilt short on the sides and long in the center, very different from the knee-length kilts worn by Hayyidis, and a pair of peculiar panels hanging on his chest and back, comprised of complex patterns of various colors.
Umrub’s face was impassive as Arjun approached. He motioned him closer, and spoke in the soft accent of his people.
“He who calls himself Sharur, welcome. I have a stone for you today.”
As Umrub spoke, he handed Arjun the stone with a small motion, not easily seen. Once it was done, he spoke again, “Know that the word of unlocking this day’s stone is ‘Nishir’”
“Thank you Umrub, and I have a question for you.”
Umrub gave the slightest nod. “And what would you ask?”
“I know many things come for trade from the land of G’abud, and I wish to learn of more of them than can be seen at your stall.
The G’abudim watched him silently for some time, with a stony expression, but at last he spoke, “Such things may be discussed better at other places. However first I must see if they may be discussed at all. Return to me as you normally would, a few days from now, and I will give you the answer I am given.”
“I will do as you ask,” said Arjun with a bow, and he departed.
~
Safe in his room at the House of Red, Arjun spoke the word of unlocking, and as before, words appeared in faintly glowing golden characters in the air before his eyes. This time, the message was worrisome.
It said that his father’s guards had been removed, under accusation that they’d become too friendly with him, and new ones had been assigned. Kartam, by his own means, knew that these new men were in the pay of Zash-Ulshad, and they were allowing no one in and no news out. It also added that the greater portion of the household goods of Artashad were to be sold at a secret auction in what was, at the time of writing, four day’s time. In the meantime, they had been collected from Bal-Shim’s various warehouses to a single more convenient location near to the great bazaar.
Arjun knew the place, and considered what he might do. Four days from the time of writing meant the auction was tomorrow. It was also a day of sacred festival for the temple of Ur-Laggu the Embracer. That was a strange day indeed to hold an auction! Still, it was good timing for him, as he had not yet concluded his thirty days with Enlil, and such a festival day was the only sort of time he would have off from training.
Then again, he reflected, anything he was going to do would have to happen tonight. At that thought, he moved immediately into motion. He took his sword, and concealed it at his back under his cloak in the special scabbard he’d had made. He gathered a few cloth sacks to carry anything he might want to collect, stuffed them in a leather bag, and added flint, a small vial of oil, and a kit of things such as Inina sometimes used, including small tools, a flexible strip of copper and a tiny easily concealed lamp.
Inina! He was to supposed to see her tonight, and he would, but then he’d let her know he had other business. She wouldn’t like it, and he’d miss her, but he must act now.
Arjun shouldered his bag, his responsibilities, and his regrets, and walked out of the House of Red into the warm night air.
~
Inina was loitering about on the block in front of her seedy apartment building. Arjun saw she was dressed practically for a night of wandering and stealth, in a plain short belted kilt and banded top of neutral colors. She had a dagger at her waist, a bag slung over her shoulder and a cloak covering her back. She noticed him as he approached, and her eyes lit happily.
Arjun walked to her, and gave her a hug. He felt her shiver, and he felt his own repressed feelings surging. He forced them back down and gave her his best effort at a nonchalant smile.
“How are you this night, Inina?”
“I’m much better, now. How are you? You look tense.”
“I have dangerous business tonight.”
“You’re safe with me!” she replied playfully.
“No, I have business of my own.”
She made a worried frown, pulled him close, and spoke to his ear in a quiet voice, “What are you up to, Arjun?”
As he fought to master himself, his voice became cold, “They are auctioning the goods of my household tomorrow, and I have learned where they are kept. Tonight I intend to interfere with the profitability of that auction.”
“Interfere with…?” she replied, “Arjun! That is a complicated way of saying you plan to sneak in there and steal things! You might be overestimating how much you’re picking up in your training from me.”
“It will not be stealing to take back my own things!” he said harshly, then softened and added, “You yourself said I was learning very fast, and regardless, it is what I will now do.”
“I… yes Arjun, you are learning fast, but you aren’t doing this without me!”
“No.”
“Please, I can’t let you do this alone, I…” and she hesitated, as they both noticed how closely they were now holding each other.
Arjun’s heart, however much he wanted to encase it in bronze
, leapt instead with fire! He sighed, and looked into her eyes. His hands lowered to her waist, and his voice warmed.
“Inina, I promised Lurshiga I wouldn’t bring you to danger.”
“You won’t be bringing me to danger, I will!” she replied with fire in her eyes. She put her hands on his, and then ran them up his arms to his shoulders.
Arjun marshaled his will, let go of her, and stepped back. He had to clear his mind! But, still he relented, “All right,” he said with a heavy, cracking voice, “come with me, but we’ve got to go now!”
As he pulled out of her arms, her face was a study in misery. Then she calmed herself, and followed him. He didn’t look back, and didn’t see the tears she wiped from her eyes. Neither she nor anyone could see the coiled flames of emotion in his heart.
There was no reason to keep to back streets until they got nearer the warehouse district south of the great bazaar, and there would be less chance for trouble on the main roads. They took the Street of Vipers until it split at its eastern end, then the south fork until it merged with the King’s Road to the plaza. From the plaza they kept again to the King’s Road as it cut east across the heart of the bazaar, until it crossed the Caravan Road between the citadel and the harbor. Then they went south along the Caravan Road to the edge of the bazaar. From there, they ducked into smaller streets.
Arjun knew this area, but Inina did not. She touched his shoulder and spoke.
“What sort of problems can find us here?”
He replied, “It is adequately, though not frequently patrolled. I think we might hope to avoid trouble from either gangs or guards, if luck is with us.”
“Let’s hope it is,” she said, “where is this place?”
“Just down two blocks more, along the left, but the way we want to enter is through a little door in the back, along an alley. When last I saw that door, it was more than a year ago while my father and I had business with Bal-Shim. I wasn’t paying particularly close attention, but it didn’t look all that strong. On the other hand, Bal-Shim may have guards around.”