“Elena! Nice to see you, stranger.”
“Sorry Corin, I get busy. I don’t get the time to visit as often as I’d like.”
“You work too hard,” Corin said.
Elena smiled. He wasn’t the first to tell her that, but what choice did she have really? “Is Regis here?” she said.
“No, he’s finished for the day.”
Elena frowned. “It’s a bit early for that isn’t it?”
“He started early. His hours are a bit erratic but he’s getting quite a bit of time in. Especially recently.”
“Oh. Well I’m pleased to hear it.”
“He’s doing a very good job too. I’m getting a lot of repeat custom. And we’ll have a waiting list before long.”
“Really?” Elena said, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, yes. He seems to have found a job that really agrees with him.”
“Well. That’s great,” Elena said, though she’d rather his eventual vocation had involved fewer sharp implements.
“You’re in uniform I see. This isn’t a social visit is it?” Corin said.
“No. Sorry. I’d like your opinion on something.”
“Of course,” Corin said, setting down his hammer. “What can I help you with?”
“I’ve got a piece of something I was hoping you’d help me identify,” Elena said, fishing in her pocket.
Corin dusted himself down and walked over. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said.
“Ah, here it is.” Elena held out the small piece of metal. Corin took it and peered at it.
“Need a bit more light,” he said. “Let’s go out back where it’s quieter and we can see what we’re doing.” He walked to the back of the forge and out into the yard behind. Elena joined him. He held the small piece of metal up in the air, examining it from different sides.
“Arrow barb maybe?” he said eventually.
“Yes. I was hoping you might be able to give me more than that though,” Elena said, disappointment evident.
“Ah,” Corin said. He looked it again before rolling it around in his fingers. “Not sure what I can tell you really. That you don’t already know. There’s no maker’s mark or anything that I can see.”
“Does the steel itself give you any clue? Where it was made maybe?” Elena said.
“It’s okay steel,” Corin said. “But there’s any number of places in the city that could have made it. Myself included. Though I don’t think it was me. I’m not really in that game now. Could be from outside the city just as easily too. Probably not army issue as they don’t go big on barbed heads normally but can’t tell you much more than that. Sorry.”
“Decent steel though, you said,” Elena said, grasping.
“Okay steel. Though the arrowhead itself did fail. Perhaps the heat treatment was slightly off and it was a bit brittle.”
“Does that tell us anything?”
“No. Arrowheads tend to be made in large numbers. It’s quite common for the quality to be patchy.”
“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”
“You were hoping for some big revelation weren’t you?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“You did look rather hopeful. I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”
“It’s fine. Besides, you’re helping greatly by taking Regis on. I really appreciate that.”
“It’s no trouble. You know that. He’s doing a good job. You should be proud of him.”
“Oh, I am,” Elena said, nodding.
“You tell him that?”
“Not as often as I should maybe.”
“Do. He looks up to you. When he talks, it’s often about you.”
Elena smiled. “Thanks. It seems it’s been good for him to get out.”
“Why don’t the two of you come round to dinner some time?” Corin said. “The family would appreciate it, I’m sure.”
“We’ll do that. Definitely,” Elena said.
“When you’re less busy?” Corin said.
Elena laughed. “Perhaps before then.”
“Deal. Now, I need to get back to work before the forge cools too much. And I’m probably holding you up too,” Corin said, handing the arrow fragment back.
“Of course. Thanks for your help,” Elena said, dropping it back in her pocket. She followed him back into the forge before bidding him goodbye and heading back into the street.
Where now?
Unfortunately the arrowhead itself was a bust. But ... maybe the method itself gave a clue. And the accuracy of the shot. Unless it was a particularly lucky shot of course, something she doubted given the precision of everything else that had been done so far. But it was a clue. She was clearly now also looking for someone who was at least competent with a bow. Maybe that would narrow down any potential list of suspects.
If she had one, she thought, mood souring again.
*****
There was a mist that evening, which the plotters hadn’t planned for, but didn’t mind. It didn’t obscure vision, and lent their enterprise an atmosphere of secrecy. They felt like they were sneaking in.
A ship had come out of the waning light, and glided into the docks of Bastion. The captain had expected to find a mooring open for them, no matter what had happened elsewhere in the dock’s business, and there it was, empty, even though everywhere else was full.
“Perfect,” he said to himself, and to the man stood next to him. “Just as you said.”
The head of this plot grinned. “Money greases all wheels,” he declared. And why wouldn’t he feel pleased? This ship was loaded with everything he needed to declare war on the underworld and take back this city.
“Easy now!” the captain called, and for a horrible moment the smile dropped from the other man, fearing there would be a collision.
“What?”
“Don’t fret,” the captain said as if he were a parent talking to a child. “This is normal. Procedure.”
“Procedure…” It rolled round his tongue. He liked order. He would be establishing a new one soon enough.
Now ships were alongside them, the illusion of his own craft sailing between them.
“How soon do you want to disembark?”
“The earliest possible opportunity.” His blood was up, his heart was pounding. They were here and ready.
“Then very soon. Tie us off!”
The captain and the crew didn’t jump when an anchor was dropped. But the gang’s leader did. He needed to get started.
“Unloading planks down!”
“Thank you, officer. There you are, free to leave.”
“Thank you. Your pay will be completed in full.” Then he raised his hands to a group of men at the front of the ship. “Secure the dock.”
Hard looking men, with grizzled faces and red noses, they nodded and filed down the gangway, already drawing the weapons they would use. Clubs, daggers, even a few swords. Even a few legionnaires looking for work.
They stood on dry land, and said a silent prayer, then they began to spread out.
“Everyone else up and out.”
Their leader looked at the docks. Quiet.
Very quiet.
Now he looked at the ships all around, and concluded the port should be full of sailors…
But where were they?
“Captain…”
“Can I be away by tonight?” came the response.
“What?”
“If you’re unloading in a hurry, can I be away by tonight? Paid up and gone.”
“Yes. We won’t need long… But I will dock you some of that pay you’re keen on for rushing us.”
The captain pondered. “Alright, five per cent, then deal.”
“Deal.”
People had now appeared on the top deck, gang members getting ready to wage this final campaign.
The leader sighed relief as he spotted people on the ships either side of him. There hadn’t been a case of plague then…
The first arrows hit the men who had stepped onto la
nd.
These tough men, ready to fight, were picked off at distance, as the arrows shot out of the thin mist and struck them, causing them to fall. It would take a while for them to die, their blood to run out, but they could contribute no more to this night.
Had the mist been thick, those shots would not have worked. The ones that now came from the boats on either side would, and targeted arrows tore into the gangers and the crew of the new ship.
“Fight, arms, fight!” the leader called out, as men and women with hand weapons leapt over from the flanking ships to begin a close assault.
The battle was over quickly, with no quarter taken. These were not guards after prisoners, but killers after the dead, and blood soon flowed on deck and into the sea.
Out there in Bastion, a group of people moved, and out of the mist stepped the Hood, flanked by bodyguards. Hood’s emotions could not be seen as they walked over, saw the people they’d paid lining the decks of all three ships, saw bodies being heaved over the side into the water, saw a group of four people being dragged down the gangplank and then made to kneel in front of their rival.
One was the leader of this new gang.
“You decided to come back to my city,” Hood began. “Even though you were ejected.”
Hood was standing by a junior from the gang, and out of that cowled robe a hand produced a dagger, which was used to stab deep into the ganger’s heart. He toppled onto his side and gurgled.
“You decided to bring your poisons and your bribes, and challenge me, me!” The dagger flashed again and the captain of the ship was opened up, blood spurting out, his body now too slumping onto the ground.
Behind them, a man still to die with an arrow through his chest was heaved into the sea even as he begged for mercy.
“I let you flee with your lives. I could have hunted you to the ends of the empire. Now you will see what I can do.”
The dagger slammed right through an eyeball, into a brain, and another ganger died and fell. One remained, their leader.
Hood stood by him now, the blood dripping off the blade in front of his face.
“Report.”
“Everyone is dead sir. Everyone on the ship is dead, everyone who made it onto the docks is dead.”
“Except you,” Hood said, looking at the leader.
He stared back with desperate eyes.
“But you’re going to live.”
“What?”
“Take my message to the world. Tell them what happens when you come into my city. Tell them how I will slaughter every last one of them who comes within the walls. You tell them, or I will come after you.”
“Y...yes.”
Hood stood up, and looked over the agents. “A tip from a professional. Don’t sail into a dock filled with former pirates.”
*****
“Another night sitting on a roof in winter,” Trimas said.
“You’re hugging the chimney,” Daeholf said. “How are you cold?”
“I wasn’t born up here like you peasants,” Trimas said.
“I wasn’t exactly born on a roof,” Daeholf said with a laugh.
“In the north, fool,” Trimas said, rolling his eyes.
“We are taking a risk,” Zedek said.
“Don’t you start,” Daeholf said.
“I get why we’re up here,” Zedek said. “But we’re risking our health. It is winter. If we don’t freeze, someone will slip.”
“If it snows we’ll move,” Daeholf said.
“Off the edge, at speed,” Zedek said.
“Shame we can’t watch from an accommodating woman’s bedroom,” Trimas said.
“All three of us?” Zedek said.
“If she’s sufficiently accommodating,” Trimas said with a wink.
“I knew a woman like that once,” Daeholf said.
“You’re disgusting,” Zedek said. Trimas grinned at him in the moonlight.
“You’re right though,” Daeholf said. “We can’t do this forever. But whilst we can keep watch from up here, we should.”
“How many nights do you think it will be before they come?” Zedek said.
“They might come, they might not,” Daeholf said. “They found out pretty quickly that we’d been arrested. News will get to them sooner or later that we’re out. And they’d be mad to come at us in the daytime again after what happened last time.”
“Maybe they won’t come at all,” Zedek said.
“I doubt that’s Erik’s belief,” Trimas said.
“Sure,” Zedek said. “But if they’ve heard we’re out, surely they’ll have heard why. Who in their right mind would take on three Bounty Hunters? And three Bounty Hunters that have already kicked their arses, at that.”
“Well I’d like to think they won’t come back now,” Daeholf said. “It’d certainly make life easier for us.”
“And yet here we are, sat on the roof in the cold,” Trimas said.
“At least this way we can see them coming if they do,” Daeholf said.
“Would have been nice if we could have found a way to get some food up here though,” Trimas said.
“How are you hungry?” Daeholf said. “You live in a butcher’s shop.”
“It’s cold, some soup would be great right now,” Trimas said.
“You’re right. It would. But we don’t have any. Or any way to make some so you’re not helping,” Daeholf said.
“A nice oxtail,” Trimas said, musing. “Or at least some sort of vegetable and barley combination. Perhaps there is some way we could build up the fire below and use the chimney as a sort of oven.”
“You’re really not helping,” Daeholf said.
“Maybe there’ll be another cart robbery,” Zedek said. “Some action to keep us warm.”
“We don’t really want a repeat of last night. We’re getting enough suspicious looks from the butcher already,” Trimas said.
“Hey. I washed his tools before I put them back,” Daeholf said.
“And yet you were okay with using them to cut meat to sell to customers,” Zedek said.
“I didn’t have to eat any of it,” Daeholf said defensively.
“And that makes it okay?” Zedek said.
“Maybe not,” Daeholf conceded. “Still, the next body is Trimas’s problem,” he added. “As we agreed.”
“I don’t remember that,” Trimas said innocently.
“You’re a fucking terrible friend,” Daeholf said.
“I try,” Trimas said.
“I don’t see how you two can joke about this sort of stuff,” Zedek said.
“What would you rather we did?” Trimas said.
“I don’t know. It just seems sort of wrong,” Zedek said.
“You have to grow a thick skin against this sort of stuff or it’ll grind you down,” Daeholf said.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever manage that,” Zedek said.
“It’d be a good idea to try,” Trimas said.
“Look, death is still not an easy thing for me,” Zedek said.
“It’s not exactly easy for us,” Daeholf said.
“Could have fooled me,” Zedek said.
“We’re a bit hardened to it,” Trimas admitted. “But you’ve seen your fair share with us.”
“You don’t understand. You can’t understand,” Zedek said.
“Life is precious,” Daeholf said comfortingly.
“It’s more than that. It’s… I don’t really have the words,” Zedek said.
“Humour is our defence mechanism,” Trimas said. “We make light of it because it helps to keep us human.”
“That’s exactly the problem. I’m not,” Zedek said.
“You’re getting there,” Trimas said.
“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult,” Zedek said.
“Did I say it wrong?” Trimas said.
“Enough chatter for now,” Daeholf said, drawing his fur closer around him. “We’re here to watch for trouble.”
&n
bsp; “Yes, sarge,” Zedek said. Trimas grinned at him. Daeholf sighed.
They took positions near each other, watching from all directions for some form of attack.
“Contact,” Daeholf said quietly a short time later.
“Fucking hell. Again?” Trimas said, voice low.
“Our men this time?” Zedek whispered, peering in the direction Daeholf was looking.
“Don’t think so,” Daeholf said. “Or at least this one is a lot more skilled.”
“One man?” Trimas said,looking.
“Yep,” Daeholf said. “Or if there are others they’re beyond my ability to detect them.”
“Can’t see him,” Trimas said.
“One man, cloaked, moving carefully, three roofs to the north,” Daeholf said.
“What’s he doing?” Trimas said, peering.
“Scouting I think,” Daeholf said.
“For us?” Zedek said.
“Maybe but I doubt it,” Daeholf said. “He’s moving carefully but I don’t think he’s expecting to find anyone up here.”
The figure stopped and looked straight in their direction.
“That’s torn it,” Trimas said.
“Shit, he’s seen us,” Daeholf said as the man started backing off. They emerged from cover to pursue and the man started to run.
The three of them ran after him, Daeholf in the lead, surefooted and gaining on his target. The man stopped, turning suddenly, revealing a bow, arrow nocked. The figure quickly drew back the string and loosed in one motion. Almost at the moment the arrow left the bow he was off again, running across the rooftops.
Daeholf stopped suddenly and turned to face the others, a surprised look on his face. Trimas and Zedek could see the arrow sticking from his chest. They watched, powerless, as he stumbled, dropping to one knee on the roof before falling backwards, sliding quickly along the tiles to the edge and falling into the darkness below.
Part Two
Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2) Page 19
