“I’ve had plenty of practise.”
“What makes you think I haven’t?”
“You’ll stay then?”
Elena stared at him hard for a moment. “I had a fight with my brother. He stormed off.”
“Well his loss is my gain.”
“Please don’t be flippant.”
“I’m sorry. What happened?” Daeholf said calmly.
“I’m not sure why I’m talking to you about this.”
“Because I’m a good listener,” Daeholf said quietly, expression soft. “And I think you knew that, which is why you came.”
Elena sighed. She sat on the end of the bed. “I’ve got no real reason to trust you, but I need someone to talk to. A sympathetic ear from a stranger who’s not involved.”
“I’m happy to listen but I’d like to think we’re more than just strangers.”
“Perhaps.”
“Tell you what, how about this evening, I tell you some stories from my past. Nothing too heavy, just something to pass the time. You don’t need to talk at all if you don’t want to. I’ll just try to entertain you.”
“Entertain me eh?”
“Pour the beer and I’ll start. How would you like to hear all about a siege I was involved in? One where I had to eat rats.”
“Rats eh? Did they taste nice?”
“Better than some of the other stuff we tried to eat.”
“Okay, you got me. I’m interested. What did you try to eat?”
“Pour the beer and I’ll tell you.”
*****
Vesek had considered sitting in his studio and staying far away from the festival, and that had been the plan for several days prior. But as he’d heard the people start cheering and moving around him, he’d been taken with the idea that he could paint festival scenes which showed the event for what it was.
Or at least, what he knew it was.
He had picked up a sketching kit, charcoal and papers, and headed out of the safe studio, into a Bastion that was louder and more raucous than ever.
The first reaction had been to shrink back. Hide away, hide under the bed even. But he had caught himself, and was now walking the streets. You couldn’t move fast, such was the crowd, and he was forced to move in a measured manner that countered the fast beating of his own heart.
How he hated them.
How he hated their consumption, as they walked from stall to stall, buying party foods, taking a few bites and discarding them for the next stall.
How he hated the alcohol they were draining in such quantities, the poison they were putting into their bodies.
He hated the smoke too, noxious clouds which turned a person strange, sleepy or fierce, and made those who passed by soon after woozy.
He hated them all.
Of course he hated this excess and stupidity at the best of times, but this festival was the absolute worst of times. As he walked, as he saw them, he became evermore certain he was correct, that Bastion was a pit of depravity.
Look at that person there. Daubed from head to foot in green paint and with a mask that could only have been a dragon’s snout. Stupid. Insulting.
Vesek had been walking aimlessly, and now he came to a square where people were gathering and musicians and jugglers entertained the crowd. This, he thought, would be a chance to sketch, and he stood himself on the steps of a stone building and made a few tentative curves.
Perhaps he could soothe himself.
Perhaps he could capture their foolishness.
He was jarred, and he caught his balance and turned to see a large man stumbling along, having smashed into several people as he turned and used this grand stairway and entrance as a urinal.
Vesek wanted to do it then, wanted to pull his knife out and gut the man, but he was in the most public area he’d ever been. Someone would see. They might be too drunk to care, but they would see.
Feeling disgusted, he gave up all notions of drawing and packed his kit carefully away, slung the bag over his shoulder and turned to walk off.
So he was in the city, people were all around, and he had nothing to do.
Go home?
Do something useful?
Actually, he had an idea.
Yes, that would work.
Vesek had been aimless before, but now he turned on his heel and walked off. The crowds were still thick, but now he used a hunter’s instinct to weave between them. It was fun, and he imagined this was what riding in a chariot race felt like.
Not that he ever would, far too dangerous.
As he walked along the roads and took a few turns, the crowds began to thin out, and he was soon in an area where the crowds had entirely vanished.
The buildings here were different.
They were larger, built from bigger stones and finished to a high degree. They contained the wealthy and powerful from this city, the people who could get things done and the people who could stop the same.
The magistrate lived here. With a family, a staff and a guard, he was a tricky target to catch, but Vesek had been studying the situation.
Planning, plotting, reading himself. When this happened he would make sure it went right, and would be a masterpiece of cunning and preparation. Except…
Vesek had been hoping to see what form of defence and occupation this house had during the festival, to gain insight. But as he walked slowly past, he saw just the one guard on the front door, and a house entirely dark except for candlelight in the magistrate’s office.
It couldn’t be…
He couldn’t be alone in there, working while everyone else was at the festival?
Vesek couldn’t walk back and forth all night, and he had to make a decision…
He turned and moved down a side street, coming round and out in the backyard of the magistrate’s house. The gate was locked, but he could see through the bars the complete absence of anyone inside.
He didn’t think, he just vaulted the gate and moved inside.
Empty, silent and empty, a house full of ghosts except that one candle.
The intruder pulled out his knife, his bronze blade sharpened to a perfect edge, and stepped inside what he was certain was the office.
He was not disappointed; the magistrate sat, back to him, working away. No doubt judging whether people should live or die.
Vesek went up behind him, slit his throat and attacked the body.
Only a short while later he stood, silent except for his panting, the corpse now lying on the floor.
No movement, no running guards, another murder completed.
Except he felt different.
Hollow.
Where was the satisfaction? Where was the pleasure? Where was the fire within him being quieted?
Nothing. No single shred of glory. Instead he was empty, and as he backed out of the house and pulled himself sadly over the gate he worked out why.
He couldn’t follow through a perfect plan. He hadn’t moved with the build up, he hadn’t been a snake or a hound, he had forced this and rushed it and taken an opportunity and it was a total failure.
He might as well have not killed the man, despite the clear fact he passed death sentences on his population.
Vesek felt he had failed, and learned an important lesson.
The hunt was vital.
*****
A cart was moving down the street, which might have been unusual on any other early, early morning. But as people were out and about cleaning up from the festival, clearing away the rubbish and the people who hadn’t found their way home, another cart taking the opportunity of empty streets wasn’t unusual.
Which was good, because Kellan didn’t want to be examined too closely.
The cart parked outside a butcher's shop which was closed and dark, and the driver was told to stop. Kellan then got out, went to the door, and found it locked.
As expected, of course, and he opened it in a swift movement with a key that he might not have been meant to have. But investment
s were investments… Then he went to the cart, picked up a large box, and carried it inside.
Kellan knew his way around this shop, and he moved through the gloom and up the stairs, opening the door to Daeholf’s room, ducking inside and closing the door.
When he then turned, he found Daeholf had a sword out and pointed at Kellan.
“Hello to you too.”
“You didn’t fancy knocking?”
“I am sneaking in with this chest.”
“I can see that, you’re not going to store it here are you?”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“This isn’t a bloody warehouse. We already have crates of weapons.”
“Well now you have a bit more. And what were you going to do with the sword?”
“Try getting near me.”
Kellan gave it some consideration, and realised he didn’t want to risk that at all. “I’ll stay over here. And I’ll put this…”
“Seriously, you can’t store it here.”
“Why?”
“We, er, have teamed up with a member of the guard to hunt the Nightwalker.”
“The guard?”
“Yep.”
Kellan put the box down anyway due to the weight. “What sort of guard member teams up with bounty hunters? Except that sergeant who got suspended.”
“Maybe.”
“I know this city, I know her.”
“Good, then you’ll have somewhere else to store that.”
Kellan felt he’d lost a point. “This chest is concerned with your business here.”
“The extortionists aren’t a problem anymore,” Daeholf pointed out.
“Being dead will do that.”
“So why are you bringing us boxes?”
“There is a plan, from Karina. We assumed you would finish the job.”
“We finished the job, this would be a new job.”
“Semantics.”
“I don’t think that means that.”
“Well we are re-hiring you. Karina has some business for all of us.”
“We react badly to orders.”
“You’re soldiers. You were trained to answer a farting pig if it had a captain’s badge on.”
“I see you’ve met some of my captains. And we were. Now we have a choice.”
Kellan nodded. “Alright. Karina humbly requests that you help us take on the head of the underworld in this city, initially alongside your investigations, and then devoted agents once this serial killer is caught.”
“That’s … fair enough. I will need to ask them…”
“Where are they?”
“Celebrating.”
“I thought you were in charge.”
“Why do people keep saying that?”
“Just observing. So until you ask them, I’ll leave the chest here as a show of good faith.”
“Right. What’s in it?”
“In it?”
“The chest.”
“Well you don’t find that out until you’ve signed up.”
Daeholf closed his eyes. He was moving from bemused to annoyed and that was making the hole in his body hurt.
“Alright, I speak for all three, we’ll help Karina.”
“Thank you.”
“So what’s in the fucking chest.”
“Money.”
“Silver coins?”
“No, silver is a highly inefficient way to transfer large sums. This chest contains gold coins, plus diamonds.”
“Gold?”
“Yes. Bars would have meant a smaller box, but aren’t easily spent.”
Daeholf regarded the size of the chest, and realised it had been selected as the maximum size you could fill with gold coins and have a strong man carry.
“I underestimated your abilities,” he confessed.
“It pays to be fit when dealing with people who want to remove your head. A sentiment you will understand.”
“Indeed.”
“So, I have a fortune in gold and diamonds, which are super efficient, easy to sell, but tend to have a limited client base.”
“And what are you going to be buying?”
“People, mostly.”
“And who is going to be doing the spending?”
“All of us.”
“If Elena finds that, you realise we will never, ever have any decent excuses.”
“I’m sure I can take ca…”
“No,” Daeholf interrupted.
“Sorry?”
“What you were about to say. No. Never that. Your deal is with us. And our conditions involve leaving Elena and our investigation and her life alone.”
“Alright. A deal is done. I suggest not letting her find it, because if it gets confiscated you’ll have to pay it back.”
“How am I likely to do that?”
“Living to five hundred would be a start, nothing else seems to kill you.”
“They should be back soon. Go get something for us to drink.”
*****
“Did you see his face!”
“Yes Trimas, unfortunately I did.”
“He didn’t know what to do!”
“Actually, I suspect he wanted to punch you in the face, but as you’re big and he was little his self-defence mechanisms kicked in which was remarkable considering how much both of you had consumed.”
“You’re killing my moment.”
“I think we should leave that moment in the past and lay down for a while.”
“The night seems to be over.”
“And as you won’t notice you can have the floor.”
“Everyone is going home.”
“So that’s a yes to the floor?”
“Whatever.”
Zedek felt a little guilty about that, but only a little.
They walked down the street until they found the butcher’s shop. A cart was disappearing into the distance.
“We should have got a cart to bring us home.”
“Trimas, you’re not that drunk, you just seem to be extremely relaxed.”
“It has been known to happen. Oh, the door is open.”
“Well let’s hope no one robbed the place of that elf costume.”
Trimas felt himself sobering slightly and they peered in.
“Nope, can’t see anyone.”
“Do you want me to go on ahead?” Zedek offered.
“I’ll be right behind you,” and they walked across and did a quick search of the ground floor.
“Everything is as it should be.”
“Right, lock the door and let’s go to bed.”
Trimas led the way up the stairs, and heard voices coming from Daeholf’s room. He recognised them, so walked in and smiled at Kellan. “You didn’t use the window this time.”
“I had to carry something through the boring entrances.”
“Fair enough. Oh.”
“What is that?” Zedek asked from behind him.
Everyone looked at the chest.
“Don’t you two start, I had enough from him,” Kellan said.
“He did us proud then.”
“He did.”
“Alright, alright, someone explain what we missed by going out.”
Kellan stood. “I’ll come back when you’re all sober.”
“No, no, no,” Trimas protested, “I am perfectly able to follow whatever this is.”
“It’s a soldier thing,” Zedek explained. “Apparently being able to react correctly during the inevitable night attack following a good meal is a prized skill.”
“That and if you’re bad at it you die.”
“That too.”
“Alright, sit down and I’ll explain.”
“You two are going to love this,” Daeholf added.
Trimas sat on the chest and leaned forward.
“That’s full of gold…”
Trimas stood right back up again.
“I have come to you with a plan from Karina. This city is in a unique position, because all of its criminal a
ctivity has been taken over by one person. They call him the Hood. A city with everything drawn to one node. Imagine how powerful they are.”
“Very.”
“Exactly. Karina will find it hard to expand in this city while Hood rules it. So you, me and her, we are going to remove this Hood.”
“It’ll be bloody,” Trimas sighed.
“No, it won’t. At least not on our end. Why? Because we are going to destroy the Hood using money. We are going to buy the loyalty of his troops, we are going to kick away the props, we are going to take this node down and open this city right up.”
“I was sat on enough money to bribe a criminal genius into defeat?”
“Indeed.”
“You could pay a legion.”
“We don’t have a legion, and they tend to operate to other agendas. But we do have money, and we do have a city to start leaking it into.”
“No,” Trimas replied.
“What?”
“No. We have to stop the Nightwalker, this is a distraction.”
“I have spoken to Daeholf here. You will help partially until that is solved. Then full time.”
“Still no.”
“Really?”
“I hate to say this Kellan, but Karina sent us here because we are men of orders and violence. She gave us orders to be violent. We are not sweet talkers, charmers and bribers.”
“I think you are selling yourselves short. You are amazing talented people.”
“Are you the same Kellan as the one we travelled with?”
“Yes. And that is an honest assessment of your skills. You can do this.”
Daeholf looked at Trimas and raised his eyebrow.
“Alright, we could do it. We’ll go with what Daeholf has agreed.”
“Good.”
“So, Dae, what have you agreed?”
“Just what…”
“About Elena.”
“Oh…”
“We need to agree on an approach. I assume we’re not telling her.”
“She won’t be keen, no.”
“So we lie and conceal it.”
Daeholf looked guilty, but had to nod. “We have no choice.” He put a hand to his eyes and rubbed. “Bollocks, we have no choice but to lie.”
“Well there’s a happy end to the evening.”
*****
“Our contact wasn’t there.”
“Say that again,” Hood said quietly, looking at Hal, who shrank visibly.
Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2) Page 32
