Bitter Gold Hearts gf-2

by Glen Cook

  Being a nice guy, I just whapped a couple of heads with my stick instead of stabbing backs with Puddle. Saucerhead threw ogres around the way us ordinary mortals might work through a pack of house cats. Holes appeared in the ceiling as the grolls kept pounding away, their blows so powerful they smashed through two-by-ten oak ceiling joists.

  Our rear attack turned the tide. Suddenly, the numbers were ours.

  Gorgeous made a run for the stairs. I flung a foot out and got enough of his ankle to unbalance him. His momentum pitched him into the doorframe. The fight seemed over but it wasn't yet won. Ogres are tough and stubborn. A few were still upright. Morley's boys left them to us and went to work finishing the ones who were down. I yelled a complaint that got ignored.

  I'd gotten through the worst without a scratch. The others had a few dings and small cuts, except Sarge, who had collected a rib-deep slash across the chest and had taken himself out of the action to tend it.

  "Not that one!" Saucerhead roared at Puddle. "You save that one for me." He slammed the last upright ogre into unconsciousness, then explained, "That's the one that was in charge when they killed the girl."

  Panting, I asked, "You see any others that were there?"

  "Just him." He dragged his ogre out of the mess.

  Morley said, "That's the one called Skredli."

  I'd suspected as much. For several minutes there had been considerable racket downstairs. Now Gorgeous levered himself up and roared. Morley and I jumped on him, too late to shut him up.

  The stairs drummed to stamping feet.

  An ogre stampede arrived.

  There must have been twenty in the first rush. They pushed us across the room, into the far wall. Grolls hammering heads from above scarcely slowed them. And more kept coming. Sarge couldn't defend himself adequately. Puddle went down. I thought Morley was a goner. It looked grim for the rest of us. Gorgeous shrieked hysterical, bloodthirsty orders.

  It was time for something desperate.

  ______XXXV______

  I dropped the witch's gift and stomped on it. The crystal shattered. I followed instructions and covered my eyes, taking several vicious blows as a result. A thread of fire sliced the outside of my left upper arm. Hell called the proceedings to disorder. I opened my eyes. The mob bawled like cows in a panic, flailed wildly, purposelessly. Some howled and clung to the floor. I danced away from the nearer crazies and unlimbered my head-knocker. According to the witch, they were seeing three of everything and their universe was revolving. But that didn't make them easy meat. There were so many of them flailing around... .

  I watched Gorgeous bang into the wall three times trying to get to the stairs. I tried to reach him before he got away. My luck ran its usual taunting course. I was two ogres short of getting him when he made it out. He went tumbling downstairs, caterwauling in pain and fear. I wanted that man bad, but not bad enough to abandon friends to fate. I returned to my harvest. I took a few whacks myself getting the mob done, but lay them low I did. Morley, I saw, had survived after all. He leaned against a wall, pale as death. Saucerhead stood with feet widespread, grinning a big goofy grin. The grolls, who had caught just the edge of the spell, looked in through the ceiling and grinned too. They had helped with the head-knocking. Morley's man Blood sat in a corner puking his guts up. Sarge and Puddle were somewhere under the mess.

  We all needed patching up.

  I stumbled to the window.

  It was light out now. And there were sounds outside. People sounds. Ogre Town folks were awake and interested.

  It was time to pick up our toys and get out.

  "Shut your eyes, you dopes," I told everybody. "Get your hands on the wall and follow it around to the door to the stairwell. Wait for me there."

  "What the hell did you have up your sleeve this time, Garrett?" Morley asked in a voice pitched an octave too high. He gagged as he fought to avoid upchucking from the vertigo.

  "None of your damned business. Just be glad I had it, you tactical genius. Come on. Get over by the door while I find Puddle and Sarge and Skredli."

  An ogre groaned. I gave him a tap on the noggin. There would be plenty of headaches later.

  I found Skredli first, dragged him over, and gave him to Saucerhead. Sarge turned up next. "Morley, Sarge checked out. You want to take him home?"

  "What for? Hurry up. I smell smoke."

  So did I. I started digging for Puddle.

  "Oh, hell," Morley said. "What would I tell my guys if I left somebody behind? They'd tell me I was no better than these ogres." He babbled to the grolls in their tongue. They jabbered back. He told me, "Shove Sarge up where Doris can get a hold of him. And hurry. They say there's a mob shaping up. Crask and Sadler have been shooting the boys down when they run out the front door."

  I found Puddle. He was alive, and would make it with help. I got him to Morley. "I'm going down first. You guys come as fast as you can." I bounded down the stairs.

  Noises rose to greet me. It sounded like somebody dragging himself... .

  I overtook Gorgeous on the second-floor landing as he was getting ready to head down the last flight. But to catch him I had to jump the fire he had started halfway to the third floor.

  He had a broken leg. He wasn't seeing more than double now, and nearly stuck me before I bopped him. I checked for other enemies. The only ones left upright were down at the front door, three or four just inside, arguing about how they were going to get out. That door was the only ground-floor exit. Anybody who used it ran into a crossbow bolt. I hustled back to help the others past the fire. It was growing, but we managed. Only Morley got singed. I couldn't restrain a chuckle at his pathetic appearance. He's one of those guys who spends hours on his appearance.

  The problem of the ogres below solved itself. I went after them behind a bloodthirsty shriek, brandishing my knives, and they flushed like a covey of quail, hitting the street.

  Now we'd learn the value of Morley's ally insurance.

  I stuck my head out.

  No bolt greeted me.

  I stepped out carefully, looked around, frowned. What had become of the mob? I saw no one but the flying ogres and the grolls, who had clambered down the outside of the building. The coach came pounding out of its alley, swung in, and stopped. Crask growled, "Get them in here! There's soldiers coming."

  Troops? No wonder the streets were empty. We tumbled inside, piling on the coach floor. Crask and Sadler took off before we sorted ourselves out. The grolls loped ahead, scouting.

  I got myself seated. "This is weird, Morley. They don't call out the troops for squabbles in Ogre Town."

  The coach thundered through alleys that had to be too narrow, around corners that had to be too tight. Whatever faults the boys up top had, lack of guts was not among them.

  Morley grunted in response to my remark.

  "They only come out for riots. And there's maybe only eight or ten people who can deploy them."

  Morley grunted again. "You figure it out, Garrett. Right now I don't give a damn." He was in pain.

  If Bruno hadn't gone down... Bruno was off the Hill. Bruno had been visiting Gorgeous. It took a lord from the Hill to order out the army. Maybe Bruno worked for somebody who thought enough of Gorgeous to call out the troops to save him.

  The whole affair began to tilt in my head. Maybe Bruno and a few facts I'd ignored needed re-examining. "I've got to find out who he worked for."

  Nobody bothered to ask what I was muttering about.

  A frightening notion had crept into my mind. Perhaps Junior daPena, his family, and his keeper, were innocent of bloodletting. The coach careened onto a major street, scattering pedestrians, drawing curses from the other drivers. Around another corner. Then a slowdown to become just another vehicle in the morning flow. I never saw a soldier. Five minutes later we halted behind Morley's place. Sadler growled at us to get the hell out.

  I was exhausted and hurt and about as tired as I could get of someone else taking control of what I had starte
d.

  "Easy, Garrett," Morley said. "Keep your mouth shut and get inside."

  "Stuff it, Morley. I've had it."

  "Do what I tell you. It'll improve your long-term health picture." He grabbed me and, with help from Saucerhead, got me through the back door. I was more amenable once I noted that our ally insurance had vanished. Morley had Saucerhead help get his men inside. Sadler crawled into the coach to baby-sit Gorgeous and Skredli. The coach rolled.

  Morley suggested, "Why don't you go upstairs and make a list of questions you want asked? I'll have a messenger run it. Then go home and sleep. You'll feel more reasonable afterward."

  I supposed if Saucerhead could endure not getting first crack at Skredli, I could live without an immediate shot at Gorgeous. "All right." But I had a feeling I wasn't going to get a lot of rest.

  On the way upstairs I glanced out a window toward Ogre Town. A pillar of smoke stood like a gravestone over a ferocious fire. Maybe most of our grim handiwork would be erased, thanks to Gorgeous.

  The last thing I needed was to get labeled a tool of the kingpin.

  I made my list, pointless exercise that it was. The tricky part was wording questions about two hundred thousand marks gold so that my stand-in would not realize what he was asking and gleefully begin interrogating in his own cause. I solved the problem by mostly avoiding it and entering a plea for direct access to the boys, and maybe even possession of that trifle Skredli.

  That done, I went back downstairs, where the survivors were getting patched up and trying to eat breakfast. I was so far gone I didn't comment on the platter they brought me, I just gulped a quart of fruit juice and stuffed my face.

  I asked, "Saucerhead, you got anything left? I've got something I want you to do." After I finished with him I cornered Morley and talked him into turning the tables on Pokey Pigotta. If we let him go and shadowed him he might lead us to some interesting places—if he didn't lead us into deep trouble first.

  ______ XXXVI ______

  Amber and Dean were in the kitchen when I got home. I went in and collapsed into a chair. Saucerhead thought my example so outstanding he copied it. Dean and Amber stared at us.

  "Was it a difficult night, Mr. Garrett?" Dean asked.

  "You might say. If you care to understate."

  "You look like hell," Amber said. "Whatever it was, I hope it was worth it."

  "Maybe. We caught up with the people who killed your brother and Amiranda."

  I watched her carefully. She responded the way I had hoped, with no sign of panic or guilt. "You got them? What did you do? Did you find out anything about the ransom?"

  "We got them. You don't want to know anything more. I didn't find out anything about the money, but I didn't have a chance. I'm still working on it. How well could you manage if you had a thousand marks to start your new life?"

  "Pretty damn good. My needs are simple. You're up to something, Garrett. Spill it."

  Dean muttered, "Been around him too long already. Starting to talk like him."

  "I love you too, Dean. Amber, Domina offered me a thousand marks if I could find you and turn you over to her before your mother gets home. I've had word that she'll get here this afternoon. If you want the money, I'll take you home around noon and my friend here will stay with you till you're convinced you're safe."

  She eyed me through narrowed lids. "What's your angle, Garrett?" The girl could think when she felt the urge.

  "Willa Dount. She knows things she won't tell me. There aren't any sanctions I can threaten to pry them out of her. All I can do is find ways to put the heat on and hope she does something interesting."

  "What about the ransom, Garrett? That's what we're supposed to be working on." Her eyes remained narrowed.

  "I don't think there's much chance of getting it. Do you? Really? With your mother home?"

  "Probably not. But you don't act like you're trying."

  Saucerhead began working on a breakfast Dean had offered him. I gawked. He was putting it away like he hadn't eaten in weeks, despite having just eaten at Morley's. But rabbit food will do that.

  "Domina offered you that money last night? And you didn't grab it?"

  "No." Dean was pouring apple juice. I realized I was dry all the way down to my corns. "Give me about a gallon." Nothing like a good tense situation to sweat you out.

  Saucerhead grunted agreement around a mouthful.

  "It isn't the money, is it, Garrett?" demanded Amber.

  Saucerhead tittered.

  "What's with you, oaf?"

  "She figured you out, Garrett." He chuckled. "You're right, little girl. With Garrett it's almost never the money."

  "You want to talk, Waldo? How rich do you figure on getting in this?"

  He gave the name a black look, then shrugged. "There's just some things you got to make right."

  Amber knew we meant much more than we said. She scowled. "If you can be noble, so can I. I'll go home. But cut it close. All right?"

  "All right."

  "What will you do now?"

  "Get some sleep. It's been awhile since I've had any."

  "Sleep? How can you sleep in the middle of everything?"

  "Easy. I lie down and close my eyes. If you want to stay busy and vent some nervous energy, remember everything you can about Karl's friend Donni Pell."

  "Why?"

  "Because she looks like the common denominator in every angle of what's been happening. Because I want to find her bad."

  I had a notion adding Donni Pell might even explain the marvelous appearance of troops in Ogre Town. My guess was that with Gorgeous and Skredli out of the equation, she stood a chance of surviving long enough to be found and questioned. I hoped she hadn't suffered a sudden and uncharacteristic seizure of smarts and wagged her manipulating tail out of town. I drank apple juice until I was bloated, then rose. "That's it. I'm putting myself on the shelf. Wake me up at noon, Dean. I've got to go rob a crypt before I sell Miss daPena into fetters. Saucerhead, you can sack out in the room Dean uses."

  Dean grumbled and muttered what sounded like threats to revive his interest in finding me a wife among his female kin. I ignored him. He wouldn't learn, and I was too tired to fight.

  ______ XXXVII ______

  Dean didn't wake me as instructed. Amber pirated that chore with a half hour head start. The brief rest hadn't been enough to restore my resistance. I fear I succumbed. Amber wasn't a disappointment. When I ventured into the kitchen, I realized Dean had found his missing scowl mask. It was as ferocious as ever. He has pretensions to gentility, though, so he said nothing. I devoured a few sausages and hit the street. I listened to the talk around Playmate's place, where the old men hang out. They had a dozen theories about what had happened in Ogre Town. Some were as crazy as the truth, but none were correct. Collecting Amiranda's corpse was cut and dried. I paid, they delivered, I drove it home, and Dean helped me lug it into the Dead Man's room.

  Have you taken up a new hobby, Garrett?

  He was awake. I'd thought I might have to start a fire to get his attention.

  Or are you getting into a new line?

  "Once in a while I like to have somebody around who doesn't get temperamental."

  Dean tells me you have been having adventures.

  "Yes. And if you'd stay awake and do a little work, I'd have a lot fewer." I brought him up to date.

  At last you have begun to understand that several things are happening at once. I am proud of you, Garrett. You have begun to think. I wondered how long you would discount the repeated appearances of the Bruno person. Particularly in view of your first collected fact having been that the younger Karl left his house to investigate a pilferage problem that the Dount woman suggested might have another Hill family at its root.

  "You figured there might be a connection, eh?"

  Of course.

  "But you didn't bother to mention it."

  You have become too dependent upon me. You need to exercise your brain yourself.
/>   "The reason you're here at all is so I don't have to strain my brain. We humans are born bone lazy. Remember? With innate ambition and energy levels only slightly above those of a dead Loghyr."

  Do not make a special effort to irritate me, Garrett. You have done adequately with your collection of corpses and your parade of frenzied females. If you have a question you cannot handle yourself, spit it out. Otherwise, relocate yourself in some demesne where the mentality is sufficiently naive to appreciate your wit.

  "All right, genius. Answer me this. Who killed Amiranda Crest? Is that something else you've been holding back, waiting for me to get my head bashed in while I tried to find out the hard way?"

  I suppose you mean do I know who gave the order that resulted in Miss Crest's death at the hand of the ogre breed Skredli and his henchmen!

  "To be precise."

  We must be precise, Garrett. An intelligent mind is not ambiguous. I could have talked about that for hours, but I resisted. "Do you know who's responsible?"

  No.

  "Do you know why?"

  Chances are if we knew that, we would know who as well, Garrett. I can render at least three plausibility's immediately, though I will discount the pregnancy as motive till such time as you produce evidence that she told someone. She did not tell you except by the most ambiguous implication, and young women empty the darkest corners of their souls into your ears.

  "You know, with two marks and all the help you've given me I could buy a barrel of beer."

  Find Donni Pell. Bring her to me. Find out who Bruno's master was. Look for any connections with the daPena family. Look into the pilferage at the daPena warehouse. It might open new avenues. Now be gone. I cannot endure your vexatious importunities any longer.

  "Right. I'll just conjure the Pell woman out of thin air."