Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2)

by Harry Leighton

  She arrived at the top of the stairs and opened her mouth to state who she was, but the guard waved her through, bowing and stating her name. Was there anyone in the city who wouldn’t recognise her on sight? And, Vika thought, was there anyone in the city who wouldn’t shiver slightly at the same moment? If you couldn’t be loved, and she wasn’t interested in any more of that, then being feared was a glorious second.

  Passing through into an anteroom, a servant took her coat, so she paused, ran her hands down the thick dress and stepped into the hall. It rose higher than a ship, wider than a market, and was filled with the top of society. She wondered for a moment what effect a mage could have if he stood here and turned everyone inside to mush, whether the city would collapse in anarchy, whether a new type of society would form, or whether climbers would take their places, and then looked at the glass of punch she’d just been handed and concluded it looked exactly like the mush she’d just imagined.

  She didn’t drink, and she certainly didn’t drink effluent, so she handed it back to the servant and stepped forward.

  She wouldn’t describe the guests as busy talking, because people didn’t come here to talk. They were here to play the game, to feint and thrust with words and test opponents. Everybody in this room was at perpetual war with the others over money, status and power, and if mages needed latent power they wouldn’t be lacking here.

  A man in a military uniform saw her, turned away from his fellow guests and came over.

  “Thieftaker,” he bellowed, as a soldier might to a fleeing unit.

  “Colonel.” She was never impressed by how they kept their titles and attempted to keep their ability to give orders. “How is retirement?”

  He looked a little hurt. Good. “I wish I was in the south!” His facial hair was white, his skin looked like a prune, he seemed so old the enemy might let him live out of pity. Vika smiled at such thoughts and the Colonel took this as approval.

  She’d had enough and walked deeper into the room. People shrank out of her way, parting like a god wished to cross the sea.

  The host realised, and made a straight line for her too. “Hello Thieftaker,” he said, and didn’t even bother kissing her hand like he had every other woman in the room.

  “Hello.” She did so enjoy not using people’s titles, unlike everyone else in this stratified tower.

  “I’m so pleased you could attend.”

  “You are holding this party in my honour, I couldn’t very well refuse.” I, of all people, know what publicity means in public office.

  “Well of course, but you have a reputation for hard work.”

  That’s true, she mused to herself, but the reality is I tend to avoid people I’m not about to arrest. Instead she replied, “There is a lot to do.”

  “You must be pleased at how many people came, how many wish to show you support.”

  Vika cast her eyes over the room, the well fed, well clothed amongst the thinner servants. Her mind sneered as she concluded no one in this room cared about crime, or criminals, or making this city safe. No one in this room cared about ninety-five per cent of the city, the poor and the socially inferior, and what crime availed them. All this room cared about was keeping the rich safe, keeping their own fortunes and persons safe, and as she was very good at that she was the most lauded and feared person in the city. Words that gave her a thrill, but didn’t disguise the hypocrisy of it all.

  “I am thrilled.”

  “We’ll allow people to have a few bites to eat, get the wine flowing, and then we will hold the ceremony.”

  Oh yes, the ceremony. You are awarding me a key to the city for my fantastic record, for all the poor I’ve had hanged or mutilated, while the rich spar and eat and engage in their own sorts of thefts. What would you do if I walked into your houses, had you bound and dragged away, interrogated and brought before a court?

  Would you be that keen on giving me more power then?

  Would you try and take it away?

  Would you even be able to now?

  If I ever stretched out, exactly how much power do I have in this city?

  “Thieftaker?”

  “Sorry, sorry, just impressed. A humbling turn out.”

  Power. There are always more criminals. There are always more people desperate and blunted and ready to harm and steal. No matter how many I remove there are more, and the people in charge of them might breed at a slower rate, but breed they do. This room will award me a great honour while they expect me to fight a never-ending war against an opponent that makes hydras jealous. How limited in their views, their thoughts, their concepts of this city, this living, breathing mass where everything is connected. One day the poor might stop fighting and challenge the rich. Or they would if I wasn’t expected to navigate their mass and stop it. And if I can’t stop it happening, I am to challenge it on the streets. As Thieftaker, the person who heads up the arrests and executions, I have to be head of the city guard. If I wanted to, I could control more armed people in this city than anyone below the governor. A peculiarity of this region not exercised in some time. But I proved so good at taking thieves they gave it all to me. Did they consider than I am a student of history too?

  “Would you like a drink, Thieftaker?” The Mayor waved at a servant, never once thinking about moving a glass himself.

  “I am fine for the moment, I suppose I should, how do you put it, mingle?”

  “I’m sure everyone would love to speak to you.”

  I’m sure everyone would be careful to hold their tongues.

  To monitor everything they said.

  To be polite and keep me on side.

  Am I to be a way of controlling the rich mayor, is that why you have supported my rise to prominence?

  Am I the story they tell their children to keep them in line at night?

  Am I the one who maintains the law and in doing so am I the one who unites this city in fear?

  And why, Vika thought, am I alright with that?

  *****

  It wasn’t a bag of wheat Elena thought to herself as she walked home. Unfortunately, she knew all too well what it was. Her brother had led her to that discovery. She hoped he was still ‘clean’. He’d not shown much evidence that he was still using but she was starting to be concerned he might be hiding things from her. Oh, he was her brother and she loved him dearly, else she wouldn’t have ruined her career for him and what had been done to him was abominable and she had every sympathy. But… Sometimes he didn’t help himself. Or worse, perhaps he helped himself too much.

  She got back to the lodgings they shared. Or rather, her lodgings, where he had been living ever since. She smelled bacon cooking. He was up at least then. That was one battle avoided. She took a deep breath and remonstrated with herself. She’d been up all night, she was tired and shouldn’t take it out on him of all people. He was up and he was cooking. Today was going to be a good day. Please let it be a good day she willed tiredly.

  She let herself in and found him in the kitchen.

  “Is that breakfast I can smell?” she said, working a smile.

  “You’re back. I was worried,” Regis said.

  Elena looked at her brother. A number of years younger than her, he should have been a young man ready to seize the gift of life and make something of himself. Instead he was a painfully thin broken husk of a man.

  “You’re still not eating enough,” Elena said.

  “What do you think I’m doing here?” Regis said.

  “I was hoping that was for me,” Elena said.

  Regis looked in the pan. “There’s enough,” he said.

  “Glad to hear it,” Elena said, sitting heavily in a chair by the kitchen table. She started taking her boots off.

  “They’re mucky. Do you have to do that in here?” Regis said.

  Elena finished taking them off before throwing them into the hallway. “Better?” she said.

  Regis gave her a sad look.

  “I’m tired,” Elena said.
“I’ll move them in a minute. Breakfast first. Or is it dinner?”

  “You’re working too hard,” Regis said.

  “There’s some people I have to stop and few to help me,” Elena said tiredly.

  Regis studied her for a moment. “I’m done with all that stuff now,” he said.

  “I know. But there’s others that aren’t.”

  “It’s not even your job.”

  “It’s exactly my job.”

  “I mean not your case. Not what you’re supposed to be working on.”

  “I know. But you know me. Once I’ve got hold of something I find it difficult to let go.”

  Regis gave her a little smile.

  “That’s better,” Elena said. “Is it ready yet? I’m famished.”

  “Perhaps if you didn’t run around the city all night you might look after yourself a little better,” Regis said.

  “Look who’s talking,” Elena said.

  Regis gave her a hurt look.

  “I’m sorry. I’m tired. And before you say anything, it’s breakfast and then bed,” Elena said.

  “They’re not going to miss you down at the watchhouse?” Regis said.

  Elena snorted. “Hardly.”

  “Get the bread then, the bacon is done,” Regis said, lifting the pan from the fire.

  “Ah. I was supposed to get some, wasn’t I?” Elena said.

  “There’s the last of the old loaf under the cover on the table,” Regis said. “It might still be okay.”

  Elena reached over and lifted the cover. Picking up the bread, she looked it over before knocking on it with her knuckles. “It’ll do,” she said, breaking it in half. Regis served up the bacon and she tore into it hungrily. Regis sat carefully opposite her at the table and started eating.

  Elena frowned as he shifted in discomfort. “You're shuffling around again,” she said.

  “It hurts,” Regis said.

  Elena studied him intently. “The physician checked you, you're fully healed. You've been fully healed for a long time,” she said.

  “You don't understand.”

  Ah. It was going to be one of those days. So much for her hopes. She took a breath.

  “Not fully, no. It hasn't happened to me, God forbid. But I've seen what it's done to you. I can only imagine how terrifying, violent and degrading it was. And we've lived through the consequences since.”

  “You know nothing.”

  She loved him dearly. She was just tired. He was her brother. He couldn’t help being hard work sometimes. She loved him dearly. She was just tired. She took a deep breath and decided to take a different tack.

  “Do you have any plans for today?” she said as gently as she could manage.

  “No.”

  “I thought you were going to do a few hours work for our cousin today?”

  “Perhaps tomorrow.”

  “He could really use your help.”

  “He’ll manage.”

  “It’d be good for you to get out for a while.”

  “Leave me alone,” he said loudly. Seeing the look on her face he added, “Please,” a bit more gently.

  She loved him dearly she told herself again.

  *****

  She was asleep in the other room now. Worn out. Working too hard. She cared. He knew that she cared.

  But she knew nothing.

  She might use words like ‘phantom pain’ but it was very real. And his body hurt less than his memories. It was so clear. Every night he'd wake in a cold sweat, and it was all he could do to stop himself from screaming.

  She meant well but she didn't understand.

  Why didn't she realise that unless it happened to her she never could? Of course, he didn't wish that on her. He didn't wish that on anyone.

  Except the bastards that had done it to him. But now they were safely locked up in jail. Thanks to his sister. Oh he knew he should be grateful. It was only thanks to her determined efforts that it had gone that far. She'd practically achieved a miracle. And one that had broken her career. But they were where he couldn't get at them to hurt them now.

  And the oblivion of the drugs was gone. She’d taken that from him.

  So there was only himself left. He looked down at the knife. The blade was lovingly polished to a razor’s edge. He'd not slept. He’d spent most of the night on it. It was too sharp, possibly. Maybe so sharp that he wouldn't feel it this time. And maybe cut too deep. Or cut deep and maybe it would go bad. That wasn't the point. That wasn’t the point at all.

  And he had to be careful. Pick an old scar so that his sister wouldn't notice. So that she couldn't take this last piece of control from him.

  *****

  A servant boy walked up with a tray perfectly balanced on his hand, and glasses perfectly upright on them, with not a single drop of liquid wasted. Then he smiled at the woman who had just turned to see him, saw it was the Thief Taker, and turned smoothly away.

  Probably thinks that circus trick is clever, Vika thought to herself, internally shaking her head and turning back to the woman who was boring her.

  “I’m sure you’ll agree, the prices on this shellfish are incredible.”

  Vika imagined this woman as a shellfish, an old crustacean who was probably forced open regularly by a butler who hated himself. Then she remembered part of the conversation she’d only been a sleeping part of.

  “Did you say you have this shellfish imported from the east?”

  “Yes. Packed in ice.”

  “I might be confusing the issue, but don’t we have plenty of that all around us. We’re a port, I thought we were bringing things in from the sea daily.”

  The question prompted a look of scorn, which Vika was amused to see swiftly replaced by a look of horror that the scorn might have been noticed…

  “The east produces far nicer food,” and this was whispered like someone had just seen the Emperor’s plan for dividing the south.

  “I see.” Vika wasn’t sure whether she was more downhearted by being patronised, or the fact people spent so much money on things from so far away when they were literally swimming in it themselves.

  “I must mingle,” Vika said, and walked away without waiting for a reply. She really was going to leave this party soon.

  How long should you stay to seem polite?

  “Ah, Thieftaker, Lady Vika.”

  She stopped at this voice, because it sounded friendly, and because not many people called her ‘Lady’ anymore. Not, it had to be said, a situation that upset her.

  “Yes?” she said, turning, and found herself facing a tall, serious looking man in the uniform of the city guard.

  Ah, the guard. And this one was … keen.

  “Nice to see you my lady, you’ve found time to get away from work.”

  “As have you.”

  “Indeed I have.”

  Vika smiled warmly on the outside, and internally decided to have some fun.

  “Tell me, are your men and women ready?”

  “Sorry?”

  “The men and women of the guard. Are they … ready for action.”

  “We are always at your command, ready to apprehend whoever we must, to secure law and order.”

  “Yes. You do a fine job of that. But tell me … your men and women, would they be able to cope with a serious disturbance? With a larger event? If the threat wasn’t from common criminals, but something more.”

  “I … of course.” There was doubt on his face. Doubt, and the honest belief that the Thieftaker had just revealed details of a great plot that would soon be unravelling.

  “Then that’s excellent.” She smiled and walked away.

  That would keep him busy for a while.

  Right, she decided, that’s enough of this, there are criminals to catch. Which the entire hall will be far happier if I was pursuing rather than standing next to them. Ungrateful sods.

  She walked through a crowd that parted out of her way, and tapped on the wooden surround of the window where the
coats and bags were stored. A servant leapt up and rushed off.

  “Don’t panic,” she called, but it had no effect. Soon she was being handed her coat, so she put it on, walked past guards who saluted, and stepped out into the night.

  A cold biting feeling in her lungs. Her cheeks and nose going red. This truly was going to build into a tough winter.

  Not for the first time she wondered why she wasn’t a Thieftaker somewhere warmer… Criminals didn’t seem to feel the cold. Luckily, she didn’t much either.

  As she walked down the steps she saw the door of a carriage open, and her driver hopped out. There was something nauseating about the way other drivers had to sit in their seats on this night, and she always let her staff take shelter when needed. If someone was a good member of your team, why would you let them freeze?

  She knew why. She knew people. That’s how she could catch them.

  She just didn’t like many.

  Soon she was stepping inside and closing the door.

  “Where to?”

  “Back to our halls, I have things to organise.”

  “As you wish.”

  The driver waved to his fellows, another action banned by their employers-cum-owners, and the carriage was pulled away through the night.

  As they moved, Vika leant back into her seat and allowed the juddering to lull her away, relaxing for the first time that evening. At least with her driver she could be something of herself. At least in this moment she could…

  She snapped upright at the sound of a woman’s scream. Just once, but ever so close.

  The driver had worked with Vika for a while, and had already stopped, so she just had to fling the door open and jump out.

  Well, after she had reached under the seat and pulled out a strong metal bar.

  “Follow me,” Vika ordered calmly, even as her body moved and her heart began to react, adrenaline pumping as she dashed down an alley, turned at the end, and found a woman buckled on the ground, a fresh cut bleeding across her face, and a man standing above her with a bloodied fist.