Decimus Fate and the Butcher of Guile: (Decimus Fate - Book 2)

by Peter A Flannery

  The man’s eyes narrowed with displeasure.

  ‘You are welcome to join us at the sheriff’s office, if you wish,’ added Fate.

  The young man hesitated as his eyes moved from Fate to the intimidating figure of the Tutor. Behind him, there was a shadow of movement from inside the coach as a large figure edged closer to the door. Fate and the Tutor caught a brief glimpse of crimson robes, but the young man made a halting gesture and the mysterious figure held back. He seemed reluctant to get involved so, ignoring Fate and the Tutor, he spoke to Inganno.

  ‘I will have my lawyer attend you,’ he said before climbing back into the coach. ‘Ride on,’ he called out, and Fate frowned as the carriage disappeared up the street.

  ‘Did you sense that?’ he asked.

  ‘The shadowy figure inside the carriage,’ said the Tutor.

  ‘Yes,’ said Fate. ‘That young man has a person of power in his employ.’

  The two men stared after the disappearing coach as Jane and her mother joined them on the pavement. Together they marched Inganno down to the local sheriff’s office and handed him over to the officer on duty.

  ‘Is that it?’ asked Jane. ‘What about Fidanza?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said the Tutor. ‘We’ll help you find him.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Jane’s mother.

  ‘Don’t thank us yet,’ said Fate. ‘If Inganno’s potions are that powerful then Fidanza might never recall that he knew your daughter at all.’

  With nothing else to be done, they escorted the two women back to their townhouse before heading for home.

  ‘We need to find this Fidanza quickly,’ said the Tutor as they turned onto one of the main streets.

  ‘Yes,’ said Fate. ‘A rich youth won’t last long on the streets of this city.’

  They continued along until they saw two grubby girls running along the street. The two girls were wayfinders, street urchins who earned a crust by guiding people through the twisting streets of Guile.

  ‘Weasel might be able to help,’ suggested the Tutor and Fate gave a nod as he raised a hand to stop the children.

  Weasel was also a wayfinder and, even though they had not known him long, the young boy had proved himself to be quick-witted and brave. He seemed to know every wayfinder in the city so, when it came to finding things in the city, Weasel was a useful person to know.

  ‘Do you know Weasel on the northwest gate?’ Fate asked the two girls.

  ‘Might do,’ said one of the girls warily.

  Fate smiled and fished out two copper coins from a pouch at his waist.

  ‘Yeah, we know him,’ said the other girl.

  ‘Good,’ said Fate, tossing each of them a coin. ‘Well, tell Weasel we’ve a job for him. Tell him to come to Blackfell House if he’s interested.’

  The two girls pocketed their coins muttering to each other as they walked away.

  ‘Bloomin’ Weasel!’ said one of the girls. ‘He always gets the cushy jobs.’

  ‘Aye,’ replied the other girl. ‘And I bet that housekeeper gives him something from the kitchen.’

  Fate and the Tutor smiled. The wayfinders thought Weasel was just lucky, but they knew that there was more to it than that. No… he might be cheeky and mischievous, but the wayfinder called Weasel had earned his good luck.

  4

  Blackfell House

  It was early evening when Fate and the Tutor arrived back at Fate’s home, a large grey-stone property known as Blackfell House.

  For the last few years, the Tutor had been renting a room at the Fool’s Hope Inn. However, he and Fate had recently been the focus of a fight that had caused considerable damage to the inn, not to mention the injuries suffered by several patrons and staff. After causing so much trouble, the Tutor did not feel comfortable staying at the inn and was now living in one of the guest rooms of Blackfell House, an arrangement that both men agreed was purely temporary.

  The house itself sat in modest grounds with a square perimeter fence and a gravel driveway leading from the main gate to the front door.

  Flanking the driveway was an avenue of gnarled trees, their leafless branches fanning out like something from a dark fairytale. But these were no ordinary trees. These were Arborio Custos, dendroid sentinels from the hidden realm of Faerie. Just a small amount of magic would bring these trees to life, but they were just one of the measures protecting the home of Decimus Fate. Even the perimeter fence was charged with magic to burn those who tried to enter with malicious intent.

  Passing through the gate, they followed the driveway to the house. The delicious smell of chicken stew and home-baking greeted them as they entered the kitchen where a small hunchbacked woman was tending a large cast-iron range. A loaf of freshly baked bread sat on the table and the Tutor was just reaching for a knife when the woman spoke.

  ‘Hands!’

  The Tutor pulled back his arm and turned to the sink where Fate wore a slight smile as he washed his own hands. The woman at the stove was Varna Motina, Fate’s housekeeper, who also happened to be an exiled witch from the distant region of Karuthia.

  ‘So, was it a love potion?’ she asked as she added a pinch of herbs to a pot of stew.

  ‘Yes it was,’ said Fate and Motina muttered a heartfelt curse in her native tongue.

  ‘And did you catch him!’ she asked.

  ‘We did,’ said Fate. ‘We took him along to the sheriff’s office, although he might wheedle his way out of any charges.’

  Motina shook her head in disgust while Fate took a seat, glancing down to look at the shallow cut on his hand.

  ‘Let me see that,’ said Motina.

  Putting the pot of stew on the table, she brushed back a few strands of her black hair as she took Fate’s hand and brought it closer to her wrinkled face. ‘Did the potion-maker do this?’

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Fate.

  ‘Hmm…’ murmured Motina as she passed him a clean cloth to press against the cut. ‘And what about the young woman?’ she asked. ‘Were you able to reverse the effects of the love potion?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Fate. ‘The antidote worked, but the potion-maker wiped her fiancé’s memory, and now he’s missing.’

  ‘Well, at least you broke the spell,’ said Motina. ‘So now you can turn your attention to finding him.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said the Tutor as he also took a seat. ‘We saw a couple of wayfinders on the way back here. They’re going to ask Weasel to call at the house.’

  The housekeeper gave a nod of approval. She was particularly fond of Weasel after the young wayfinder had risked his own life to help her when she was being attacked by the Kane Twins. Coming back to the table, she laid out three bowls for the stew. ‘What have you got there?’ she asked as Fate took out the small potion bottle he had taken from Inganno’s cellar.

  ‘It’s the strength potion he swallowed as we arrived.’

  Motina could see the curiosity in Fate’s eyes and she wondered how long it would be before he disappeared to test it. Putting down the bottle Fate ate a few mouthfuls of stew, but it was only a matter of seconds before he pushed away his bowl and got to his feet.

  ‘I’m just going to analyse this before it starts to degrade,’ he said as he made his way out of the kitchen.

  Motina and the Tutor exchanged a glance as Fate left the room.

  ‘He just can’t help himself,’ said the housekeeper. ‘Even food has to wait when the master has a mystery to solve.’

  ‘And is he?’ asked the Tutor. ‘Is he your master?’ His tone suggested that he meant no offence and Motina laughed.

  ‘Not in the way you’re thinking,’ she said. ‘He does not own or control me, but he is the master of this house.’

  ‘And you don’t mind waiting on him?’

  ‘Why should I?’ replied Motina and the small witch smiled. ‘In Karuthia we have a saying… garbė yra tarnauti, the honour is to serve.’

  ‘So you honour him?’ said the Tutor, and Motina bowed her head.r />
  ‘How else do you repay a man who saved your life, even after you tried to kill him?’

  ‘You tried to kill Fate?’ asked the Tutor and Motina positively beamed with pride.

  ‘Hit him squarely in the chest with a powerful spell.’

  ‘And what did he do?’

  ‘He snarled like a scalded wolf, then he hit me with a pulse of energy that put me to sleep for a day and a half.’

  The Tutor raised his eyebrows in surprise as the housekeeper continued.

  ‘When I came to, I was free from my prison, my tormentors were dead, and we had escaped from the country that I called home.’

  ‘The Karuthian Purge,’ said the Tutor and Motina nodded.

  ‘Most of the magic-users that I knew were killed.’ A shadow of sadness passed over her face. ‘Put to death by one of the two powerful sorcerers that had come into Karuthia from the outside world. One saw magic-users as a force of natural wonder, the other saw them as a threat, and so he turned the authorities against us.’

  ‘Oruthian Bohr,’ said the Tutor and Motina gave a sigh.

  ‘Oruthian Bohr went on to become the Emperor’s personal sorcerer, while Fate gave me a home in the river city of Guile.’

  ‘The honour is to serve,’ said the Tutor and Motina’s small black eyes glistened as she dipped bread in her stew.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes until the jangle of a bell sounded from outside.

  ‘That’s the gate bell,’ she said and, rising from her seat, she left the room to see who was calling at the house this evening.

  Munching on a piece of bread, the Tutor thought about Fate and how the man he had come to know did not match the reputation of the ruthless sorcerer he had heard about over the years. He was still lost in reverie when Motina came back into the room supporting a woman who was clearly in some distress.

  The Tutor rose to his feet as Motina guided the woman to a chair.

  ‘Here,’ said the housekeeper. ‘Sit here and tell us what’s happened.’

  As she sat down, the Tutor could see that she was a woman of substance even if her dress was a little faded and worn. Her hands were soft, and she would have been considered beautiful were it not for the extensive burns covering the left side of her face and neck. But even with this disfigurement, there was something about her that seemed vaguely familiar.

  ‘He’s gone,’ said the woman.

  ‘Who’s gone?’ asked Motina.

  ‘My son,’ said the woman, holding up a locket that contained a tiny portrait of a young man with a mole at the base of his jaw. ‘He’s disappeared. He went to work for a wealthy family, but then something happened and now he’s disappeared.’

  ‘Do you know why your son might’ve gone?’ asked Motina.

  ‘They say he killed a girl, but my son would never do such a thing.’

  ‘Who did he work for?’ asked the Tutor. ‘Do you know the name of the family?’

  ‘Medici,’ said the woman, and the Tutor frowned as a thought occurred to him. The Medici’s were a notorious family… aristocratic, wealthy, and well known for their ruthless pursuit of power. But what gave the Tutor pause, was that their family motif was the stylised design of the letter ‘M’.

  The Tutor tried to hide his concern as the woman turned back to Motina.

  ‘Can you help me?’ she asked. ‘A friend of mine went to look for him. He was a sergeant in the city guard, but now he has also disappeared. Then someone told me that the Sage of Blackfell House might help me.’

  ‘I’m sure he will try,’ said Motina.

  ‘We have to find him,’ said the woman. ‘The Medici family has put a price on his head and that could make him a target for the Butcher.’

  ‘I’m sure that won’t happen,’ said Motina as she exchanged a worried glance with the Tutor.

  ‘He took the Harper’s boy,’ said the woman. ‘What if my son is also taken? What if my boy is chopped into pieces by the Butcher of Guile?’

  The woman’s distress had risen to new heights, and Motina reached out a hand to calm her. ‘What’s your name, my dear?’

  ‘Reyna,’ said the woman. ‘Reyna de Lorni.’

  ‘And your son?’

  ‘His name is Luca.’

  ‘We’ll help you,’ said Motina. ‘Just start from the beginning.’

  It took only a few minutes for the woman to tell them what had happened and by the time she had finished she was breathless with anxiety. Moving to the stove, Motina poured a cup of chamomile tea and added a pinch of finely ground herbs from a pouch at her waist. The agitated woman took only a few sips of the tea before her breathing calmed and she began to look drowsy. Leaning on the table, she folded her arms, laid her head down, and fell asleep.

  ‘Well,’ said Motina, glancing at the Tutor as she leaned down to checked the woman’s pulse. ‘Now it looks like there are two young men you need to find.’

  5

  Witches of the Black Pact

  Up in his study, Fate finished analysing Inganno’s potion. It turned out to be a simple strength potion, and yet he was surprised by the purity of the concoction, yet more evidence of the young potion-maker’s skill. Returning downstairs he found the kitchen empty and went through to the parlour where Motina and the Tutor were watching over a woman who was now asleep on a soft upholstered couch. Crossing the room, Fate looked down at the sleeping woman.

  ‘She’s an actress,’ said Motina.

  ‘Reyna de Lorni,’ said Fate, for even with the extensive scarring he had recognised her face. ‘I saw her perform at the Beehive.’

  Seated nearby, the Tutor was surprised by the note of respect in Fate’s voice. He glanced at the sorcerer as Fate continued.

  ‘She played Queen Vilandra in The Fall of Tarse… one of the finest performances I have ever seen.’

  ‘Well, now she’s lost her son,’ said Motina handing Fate Madam de Lorni’s locket. ‘This is what he looks like, and he also has burn scars on his hands.’

  ‘Did you give her something to make her sleep?’ asked Fate as he looked down at the young man’s portrait.

  ‘Just a little psilo and valerian,’ replied Motina.

  Fate nodded. Herbs and fungi could be dangerous in the wrong hands, but Motina was extremely skilled in such things. Moving away from the sleeping woman, Fate also took a seat as they spoke in lowered tones.

  ‘So what happened?’ he asked as he handed the locket to the Tutor.

  ‘A typical story of an actress falling on hard times,’ began Motina. ‘The acting dried up after the fire that scarred her face. Her son went out to work, but they were barely scraping by so he started taking jobs of a more dubious kind. He ended up in a wealthy household, but something went wrong and the house owner’s niece was killed.’

  ‘The boy killed her?’

  ‘Madam de Lorni is adamant that he didn’t,’ said Motina. ‘But we really have no way of knowing for sure.’

  ‘And the name of the family he was working for?’

  ‘The Medicis,’ said the Tutor and Motina was unsettled by the look of concern on Fate’s face as he turned to look at the Tutor.

  ‘That rich brat outside the potion-maker’s house,’ said Fate. ‘The gold ‘M’ on the black livery of the coach.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the Tutor. ‘It was the Medici crest.’

  Fate put a hand to his face as if this was the worst possible news.

  ‘Are they really that bad?’ asked Motina.

  ‘If the boy killed a relative, then yes,’ said Fate. ‘They’re about as bad as it gets.’ He glanced at Motina as if he were trying to decide how much he should say. ‘Lord Medici is a member of the Juoda Pakta.’

  ‘What?!’ exclaimed Motina, and the Tutor was shocked by the sudden force of her tone.

  ‘The Black Pact,’ said Fate turning to the Tutor. ‘It’s like an elite club that offers magical protection to its members.’

  ‘I know what it is,’ said the Tutor. ‘It’s a coven of dark witches
that trade with the Daemonaria.’

  ‘But do you know what they trade?’

  ‘Magic items,’ said the Tutor.

  ‘Yes,’ said Fate. ‘But they also trade people with magical abilities, and faeries too.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the Tutor, glancing at Motina.

  The dark sisters of the Juoda Pakta hailed from Motina’s home country of Karuthia. And now the Tutor recalled how Oruthian Bohr had used them to hunt down magic-users during the Karuthian purge.

  ‘The treacherous sows!’ cursed Motina who now looked like she was ready to take on Medici by herself.

  ‘This is worse than I thought,’ the Tutor went on. ‘Even if we find the boy, he won’t be safe in the city.’

  ‘Then you’ll need to get him out of the city,’ said Motina.

  ‘That won’t help,’ said Fate. ‘The Medicis have connections in every town and city from here to Confluence.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re not going to help?’ asked Motina.

  ‘Of course not,’ said Fate. ‘It just means it won’t be easy.’

  ‘And what about the Butcher?’ asked the Tutor. ‘Madam de Lorni is right… The Butcher often takes people with a bounty on their heads.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Fate. He was about to continue when the dark shape of a raven appeared at the window. The bird looked directly at Motina before giving a distinctive croak.

  ‘It’s Weasel,’ said Motina. ‘The birds have taken a liking to the boy.’

  Hardly had she finished speaking before the jangling chimes of the gate bell sounded once more.

  ‘He does know it’s safe for him to come to the front door?’ queried Fate.

  ‘Oh, he knows,’ said Motina. ‘He’s just a little wary after I told him what could happen to an intruder who tried to cross the fence.’

  The hint of a smile softened Fate’s stern features as Motina went to meet Weasel at the gate. The Tutor stood up while Fate took a quilted blanket from the back of a nearby chair.

  ‘Tragic how life can be turned upside down in an instant,’ said the Tutor.

  ‘Isn’t it just,’ replied Fate as he laid the blanket over the sleeping form of Madam de Lorni.