Fold Thunder

by Gregory Ashe

  Chapter Twelve

  The sun hung at the western cliffs of Apsia, only a sliver showing above the city. The sky flamed with orange and crimson bands. His feet aching, Joaquim leaned back against the low stone wall of the garden and watched the house opposite him. Ale, he thought. No, wine. Wine, a hot bath, a bloody new pair of boots so I never have to look at these ones again, a bed, and I’m going to sleep until noon. Zirolo and Etio can bloody well skewer themselves if they think I’m going on patrol with them after this.

  Joaquim had been walking the city almost half the day, trying to track down Mycander Duruson, in hopes that the man of the watch could help him find Viane. Joaquim had not found the man at any of the taverns frequented by the watch, nor on the quays, and it had cost him almost a silver aps in loose coin to find out where the man lived. Feet aching, he leaned back and waited.

  The door swung open, and man wearing the black cloak of the watch stepped out into the street. He had a broad face with long, waxed mustaches, affecting a style that had vanished before Joaquim had been born. He moved quickly down the street, a swagger to his steps. So does he know how to handle himself? Joaquim wondered. Or does he just know how to affect it?

  Joaquim set off after Duruson, catching up to him after a couple of blocks. Duruson turned and glanced at Joaquim as they walked side by side, his hands hidden under the flapping cloak. Most likely grabbing daggers. So he’s on his guard, at least, Joaquim thought.

  “Evening,” Joaquim said, nodding.

  “Evening,” Duruson said. “Can I help you with something? Something wrong, need me to call the Order?”

  “No,” Joaquim said. “No, that won’t be necessary.” He drew out the steel armband from a pouch at his waist and showed it to Duruson. “I’m already here, see? Nothing to worry about.”

  Duruson’s dark eyes flickered to the armband and then back to Joaquim’s face. “Sorry, milord,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were part of the Order. The Sisters’ blessing on you.”

  “And you,” Joaquim said, putting the armband away. No need to advertise his identity to the world.

  “What can I help you with, milord?” Duruson asked, walking slightly faster. “I’m late for work, you see, and I need to get down to the harbor fast as possible. Might be you need to find someone else from the watch, someone working up here, if you need help.”

  “No, that’s not necessary,” Joaquim said. “I need your help, Mycander. And I’m not a lord. I need to find a girl who disappeared on the docks. She got caught up in some nasty business.”

  “Whoring?” The way the man said it, flat and business-like, sent an angry flush to Joaquim’s cheeks.

  “No,” he said. “Not whoring. Smuggling.”

  Duruson stopped walking and turned to face Joaquim. The man’s posture shifted slightly, his eyes went flat. Joaquim realized that, at the next wrong word, the man of the watch was going to attack him. And probably kill me, Joaquim thought. Or at least try. Raising his hands, Joaquim said, “No problem here, friend. Let’s just keep walking down to the harbor, I’m just asking for a little help, not looking for trouble.”

  The man watched him for a long moment. Mycander Duruson slowly relaxed. “Help, huh?” Duruson said. “You’ve got a funny way of asking for it, waiting outside my house until I leave, then following me down the street.” Joaquim tried to keep the surprise from his face. “Yeah, I saw you out there. And then you start flapping that mouth for everyone to hear as we walk down the street. Say what you want, then, but keep it quiet. I bloody well have a job to do, and I don’t fancy having my throat opened because you don’t have the brains to keep your mouth shut.”

  Joaquim blinked. People walked the street, most returning home from work at the end of the day, but a few groups of men already sat outside in small gardens or on the stone steps of buildings, passing around bottles of wine. “I didn’t think about that,” Joaquim said. He caught the gaze of two middle-aged men who sat just a few feet away, a wine bottle suspended between them as they watched Joaquim and Duruson motionlessly. Joaquim gave them a friendly nod and a smile. After a moment the wine bottle moved again, and the men turned their gaze. “Bloody sorry about that.”

  Duruson started down the street, forcing a path against the wave of people coming up the hill from the harbor. “I should have figured, the way you came prancing up to me and practically shouting out that you’re trying to find a gang; you’re a bloody fool, that’s what you are, and you’re going to get both of us a long swim in the harbor real quick.”

  Joaquim flushed again, but said, “The Night Sister take you, I need some information, and if you don’t help me out, I’ll put on this armband, shout for help, and march you to the Shellfish House myself. Then only one of us will hang.”

  “Ha!” The man barked. “You’ve got a bit of a bite, pup, but you’re still a blind fool. You might be part of the bleeding Order, but the captain of the watch keeps a close eye on his own men; you’ll be lucky if old Gadazzo doesn’t have you rowing in a galley before you can bear testimony in front of a magistrate, and I’ll be back working the docks. It doesn’t pay to threaten an honest man.”

  Anger forced Joaquim’s tongue. “You’re the Night-taken fool,” he said. “Honest man, the Night Sister take me if I care. Your bloody captain was the one who gave me your name, so you’d better help me, and fast, before I go back and tell him that you wasted my time.”

  This time Duruson roared a laugh, and several people turned in surprise at the noise. When he had finished, one hand pressed to his chest, he said, “Bloody Bel, you are a fool, boy. Marched right into the captain’s office and asked for someone who could help you out, right? Of course he sent you to the right watchman, not a question in your thick head, I’m sure. Probably took a good chunk of coin from you as well. The Day Sister smile on you, son, because you need it more than I do. Good night.”

  Joaquim stopped walking, struck dumb by the man’s words. He bloody tricked me, was the first thought that came to his head. Bel take his bleeding soul, Gadazzo took my money and made me look like a fool in the bargain. For a moment he considered going back home, explaining everything to his father. And look like a fool, but a fool who isn’t on the galleys and isn’t footsore and isn’t wasting his time.