by Glen Cook
“I learned my lesson. Hey. Drinks on the house. I’ve got some wine I used to keep for a special customer. He left town, so I’m stuck with it.”
“That bad, eh?”
“No. That good. Nobody can afford it.”
Shed spent his entire evening sipping wine, even after the sailors decided they had business elsewhere. He broke into a grin each time he recalled Gilbert’s reaction to the ring. “Got to be careful now,” he muttered. “He’s as crazy as Krage.”
In time the good feeling departed. Fear took over. He’d face anything Gilbert did alone, and he was still very much the same old Shed under the patina left by Raven and a few deals since.
“Ought to haul the bastard up the hill,” he muttered into his mug. Then: “Damn! I’m as bad as Raven. Worse. Raven never delivered them alive. Wonder what that bastard is doing now, with his fancy ship and slick young slot?”
He got himself very, very drunk and very, very filled with self-pity.
The last guest went to his bunk. The last outsider went home. Shed sat there nursing his wine and glowering at Lisa, angry with her for no reason he could define. Her body, he thought. Ripe. But she wouldn’t. Too good for him. And her pushiness lately. Yeah.
She studied him as she cleaned up. Efficient little witch. Better even than Darling, who had worked hard but hadn’t the economy of movement Lisa had. Maybe she did deserve to manage the place. He hadn’t done such a great job.
He found her seated opposite him. He glowered. She did not retreat. A hard lass, too. Wouldn’t bluff. Didn’t scare. Tough Buskin bitch. Be trouble someday.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Shed?”
“Nothing.”
“I hear you paid Gilbert off. On a loan you took on this place. How could you take a loan on the Lily? It’s been in your family for ages.”
“Don’t give me that sentimental crap. You don’t believe it.” “Where did you get the money?” “Maybe you shouldn’t be so nosy. Maybe nosiness could be bad for your health.” He was talking surly and tough but not meaning what he said. “You’ve been acting strange lately.” “I was in love.” “That wasn’t it. What happened to that, anyway? I hear Sue disappeared. Gilbert says you did her in.” “Did what? I was over to her place today.” “You see her?”
“No. The door guard said she wasn’t home. Which means she didn’t want to see me. Probably had somebody else up there.”
“Maybe it meant she wasn’t home.” Shed snorted. “I told you I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Understand?”
“Sure. Tell me where you got the money.” Shed glared. “Why?”
“Because if there’s more, I want a chunk. I don’t want to spend my life in the Buskin. I’ll do whatever it takes to get out.”
Shed smirked.
She misunderstood. “This job is just to keep body and sou] together till I find something.”
“A million people have thought that, Lisa. And they’ve frozen to death in Buskin alleys.”
“Some make it. I don’t intend to fail. Where did you get the money, Mr. Shed?” She went for a bottle of the good wine. Vaguely, Shed thought it must be about gone. He told her about his silent partner. “That’s a crock. I’ve been here long enough to know that.”
“Better believe it, girl.” He giggled. “You keep pushing and you’re liable to meet him. You won’t like him, I guarantee.” He recalled the tall creature telling him to hurry back.
“What happened to Sue?”
Shed tried to rise. His limbs were limp. He fell back into his seat. “I’m drunk. Drunker than I thought. Getting out of shape.” Lisa nodded gravely. “I loved her. I really loved her. She shouldn’t ought to have done that. I would have treated her like a queen. Would have gone into hell for her. Almost did.” He chuckled. “Went in with her.... Oops.’’
“Would you do that for me, Mr. Shed?” “What?”
“You’re always trying to get me. What’s it worth?” Shed leered. “Don’t know. Can’t tell till I’ve tried you.”
“You don’t have anything to give me, old man.”
“Know where to get it, though.”
“Where?”
Shed just sat there grinning, a bit of drool trailing from one corner of his mouth.
“I give up. You win. Come on. I’ll help you get up the stairs before I go home.”
The climb was an epic. Shed was one drink short of passing out. When they reached his room, he just toppled into bed.
“Thanks,” he mumbled. “What’re you doing?”
“You have to get undressed.”
“Guess so.” He made no effort to help. “What’re you doing now? Why’re you grabbing me like that?”
“You want me, don’t you?” A moment later she was in the bed with him, rubbing her nakedness against his. He was too drunk to make anything of the situation. He held her, and became maudlin, spouting his trials. She played to it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: JUNIPER: PAYOFF
Shed sat up so suddenly his head twisted around. Somebody started beating drums inside. He rolled to the edge of the bed and was noisily sick. And then became sick in another way. With terror.
“I told her. I told her the whole damned thing.” He tried to jump up. He had to get out of Juniper before the Inquisitors came. He had gold. A foreign captain might take him south. He could catch up with Raven and Asa.... He settled onto the cot, too miserable to act. “I’m dying,” he muttered. “If there’s a hell, this is what it’s going to be like.”
Had he told her? He thought so. And for nothing. He had gotten nothing. “Marron Shed, you were born to lose. When will you ever learn?”
He rose once more, cautiously, and fumbled through his hiding place. The gold was there. Maybe he hadn’t told her everything. He considered the amulet. Lisa could follow the trail blazed by Sue. If she hadn’t told anybody yet. But she would be wary, wouldn’t she? Be hard to catch her off guard. Even assuming he could find her.
“My head! Gods! I can’t think.” There was a sudden racket downstairs. “Damn,” he muttered. “She left the place unlocked. They’ll steal everything.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. Such an end he had come to. Maybe that was Bullock and his thugs knocking around down there.
Best to meet his fate. Cursing, he eased into his clothing, began the long journey downstairs.
“Good morning, Mr. Shed,” Lisa called brightly. “What will you have for breakfast?”
He stared, gulped, finally stumbled to a table, sat there with his head in his hands, ignoring the amused stare of one of his companions of the Gilbert adventure.
“A little hung over, Mr. Shed?” Lisa asked.
“Yes.” His own voice sounded thunderous.
“I’ll mix you something my father taught me to make. He’s a master drunkard, you know.”
Shed nodded weakly. Even that proved painful. Lisa’s father was one reason he had hired her. She needed all the help she could get. Another of his charities gone sour.
She returned with something so foul even a sorcerer would not have touched it. “Drink fast. It goes down easier that way.”
“I can imagine.” Half praying it would poison him, he gulped the malodorous concoction. After gasping for breath, he murmured, “When are they coming? How long do I have?”
“Who, Mr. Shed?”
“The Inquisitors. The law. Whoever you called.”
“Why would they come here?”
Painfully, he raised his gaze to meet hers.
She whispered, “I told you I’ll do anything to get out of the Buskin. This is the chance I’ve been looking for. We’re partners now, Mr. Shed. Fifty-fifty.”
Shed buried his head in his hands and groaned. It would never end. Not till it devoured him. He cast curses on Raven and all his house.
The common room was empty. The door was closed. “First we have to take care of Gilbert,” Lisa said.
Shed bobbed his head, refused to look up.
“That was stupid, giving him jewel
ry he would recognize. He’ll kill you if we don’t kill him first.”
Again Shed bobbed his head. Why me? he whined to himself. What have I done to deserve this?
“And don’t you think you can get rid of me the way you did Sue and that blackmailer. My father has a letter he’ll take to Bullock if I disappear.”
“You’re too smart for your own good.” And: “It won’t be long till winter.”
“Yes. But we won’t do it Raven’s way. Too risky and too much work. We’ll get charitable. Let all the derelicts in. One or two can disappear every night.” “You’re talking murder!”
“Who’ll care? Nobody. They’ll be better off themselves. Call it mercy.”
“How can anybody so young be so heartless?” “You don’t prosper in the Buskin if you have a heart, Mr. Shed. We’ll fix a place where the outside cold will keep them till we get a wagonload. We can take them up maybe once a week.” “Winter is....”
“Is going to be my last season in the Buskin.” “I won’t do it.”
“Yes, you will. Or you’ll hear from Bullock. You don’t have a choice. You have a partner.” “God, deliver me from evil.” “Are you less evil than me? You killed five people.” “Four,” he protested weakly.
“You think Sue is still alive? You’re splitting hairs. Any way you look at it, you’re guilty of murder. You’re a murderer so dumb about money he doesn’t have a gersh to his name. So stupid he keeps getting tangled with Sues and Gilberts. Mr. Shed, they only execute you once.”
How to argue with sociopathic reasoning? Lisa was the heart of Lisa’s universe. Other people existed only to be exploited.
“There are some others we should think about after Gilbert. That man of Krage’s who got away. He knows there was something strange about the bodies not turning up. He hasn’t talked or it would be all over the Buskin. But someday he might. And there’s the man you hired to help you with the blackmailer.”
She sounded like a general planning a campaign. Planning murder wholesale. How could anybody?...
“I want no more blood on my hands, Lisa.”
“How much choice do you have?”
He could not deny that Gilbert’s death had meaning in the equation of his survival. And after Gilbert, one more. Before she destroyed him. She would let her guard down sometime.
What about that letter? Damn. Maybe her father had to go first.... The trap was vast and had no apparent exits.
“This could be my only chance to get out, Mr. Shed. You’d better believe I’m going to grab it.”
Shed shook his lethargy, leaned forward, stared into the fireplace. His own survival came first. Gilbert had to go. That was definite.
What about the black castle? Had he told her about the amulet? He could not recall. He had to imply the existence of a special passkey, else she might try to kill and sell him. He would become a danger to her once they implemented her plan. Yes. For sure. She would try to rid herself of him once she made her connection with the things in the castle. So add another to his must-kill list.
Damn. Raven had done the smart thing, the only thing possible. Had taken the only exit. Leaving Juniper was the only way out.
“Going to have to follow him,” he muttered. “There isn’t any choice.”
“What?”
“Just muttering, girl. You win. Let’s get to work on Gilbert.”
“Good. Stay sober and get up early tomorrow. You’ll need to watch the Lily while I check something out.”
“All right.”
“Time you pulled your own weight again, anyway.”
“Probably so.”
Lisa eyed him suspiciously. “Good night, Mr. Shed.”
Lisa told Shed: “It’s set up. He’ll meet me at my place tonight. Alone. You bring your wagon. I’ll make sure my dad isn’t around.”
“I hear Gilbert won’t go anywhere without a bodyguard now.”
“He will tonight. He’s supposed to pay me ten leva to help get control of the Lily. I let him think he’s going to get something else, too.”
Shed’s stomach growled. “What if he catches on?”
“There’s two of us and one of him. How did such a chicken-shit manage everything you have?”
He had dealt with the lesser fear. But he kept that thought to himself. There was no point giving Lisa more handles than she had. It was time to find handles on her. “Aren’t you scared of anything, child?”
“Poverty. Especially of being old and poor. I get the grey shakes whenever I see the Custodians haul some poor old stiff out of an alley.”
“Yeah. That I can understand.” Shed smiled thinly. That was a beginning.
Shed stopped the wagon, glanced at the window of a downstairs rear apartment. No candle burning there. Lisa hadn’t yet arrived. He snapped the traces, rolled on. Gilbert might have scouts out. He was not stupid.
Shed pulled around a kink in the alleyway, strolled back pretending to be a drunk. Before long someone lighted a candle in the apartment. Heart hammering, Shed slunk to the rear door.
It was unlocked. As promised. Maybe Gilbert was stupid. Gently, he eased inside. His stomach was a mess of knots. His hands shook. A scream lay coiled in his throat.
This was not the Matron Shed who had fought Krage and his troops. That Shed had been trapped and fighting for his life. He had had no time to think himself into a panic. This Shed did. He was convinced he would foul up.
The apartment consisted of two tiny rooms. The first, behind the door, was dark and empty. Shed moved through carefully, eased to a ragged curtain. A man murmured beyond the doorway. Shed peeked.
Gilbert had disrobed and was resting a knee on a bedraggled excuse of a bed. Lisa was in it, covers pulled to her neck, pretending second thoughts. Gilbert’s withered, wrinkled, blue-veined old body contrasted bizarrely with her youth.
Gilbert was angry.
Shed cursed mutely. He wished Lisa would stop playing games. Always she had to do more than go directly to her goal. She had to manipulate along the way, just to satisfy something within herself. He wanted to get it over.
Lisa pretended surrender, made room for Gilbert beside her.
The plan was for Shed to strike once Lisa enwrapped Gilbert in arms and legs. He decided to play a game of his own. He let it wait. He stood there grinning while her face betrayed her thoughts, while Gilbert sated himself upon her.
Finally, Shed moved in.
Three quick, quiet steps. He looped a garotte around Gilbert’s skinny neck, leaned back. Lisa tightened her grip. How small and mortal the moneylender appeared. How unlike a man feared by half the Buskin. Gilbert struggled, but could not escape. Shed thought it would never end. He hadn’t realized it took so long to strangle a man. Finally, he stepped back. His shakes threatened to overcome him. “Get him off!” Lisa squealed.
Shed rolled the corpse aside. “Get dressed. Come on. Let’s get out of here. He might have some men hanging around. I’ll get the wagon.” He swept to the door, peeped into the alleyway. Nobody around. He recovered the wagon fast.
“Come on!” he snapped when he returned and found Lisa still undressed. “Let’s get him out of here.” She could not tear herself away. Shed shoved clothing into her arms, slapped her bare behind. “Get moving, damn it.”
She dressed slowly. Shed fluttered to the door, checked the alley. Still no one around. He scooted back to the body, hustled it to the wagon and covered it with a tarp. Funny how they seemed lighter when they were dead.
Back inside: “Will you come on? I’ll drag you out the way you are.”
The threat had no effect. Shed grabbed her hand, dragged her out the door. “Up.” He hoisted her onto the seat, jumped up himself.
He flicked the traces. The mules plodded forward. Once he crossed the Port River bridge, they knew where they were headed and needed little guidance. Idly, he wondered how many times they had made the journey.
The wagon was halfway up the hill before he calmed down enough to study Lisa. She seemed
to be in shock. Suddenly, murder was not just talk. She had helped kill. Her neck was in a noose. “Not as easy as you thought, eh?”
“I didn’t know it would be like that. I was holding him. I felt the life go out. It.... It wasn’t what I expected.”
“And you want to make a career of it. I’ll tell you something. I’m not killing my customers. You want it done that way, you do it yourself.”
She tried a feeble threat.
“You don’t have any power over me anymore. Go to the Inquisitors. They’ll take you to a truth-sayer. Partner.”
Lisa shivered. Shed held his tongue till they neared the black castle. “Let’s not play games anymore.” He was considering selling her along with Gilbert, but decided he could not muster the hatred, anger or downright meanness to do it.
He stopped the mules. “You stay here. Don’t get off the wagon no matter what. Understand?”
“Yes.” Lisa’s voice was small and distant. Terrified, he thought.
He knocked on the black gate. It swung inward. He resumed his seat and drove inside, stepped down, swung Gilbert onto a stone slab. The tall creature came forth, examined the body, looked at Lisa.
“Not this one,” Shed said. “She’s a new partner.”
The creature nodded. “Thirty.”
“Done.”
“We need more bodies, Marron Shed. Many bodies. Our work is nearing completion. We grow eager to finish.”
Shed shuddered at its tone. “There’ll be more soon.”
“Good. Very good. You shall be rewarded richly.”
Shed shuddered again, looked around. The thing asked, “You seek the woman? She has not yet become one with the portal.” It snapped long, yellow fingers.
Feet scuffed in the darkness. Shadows came forth. They held the arms of a naked Sue. Shed swallowed hard. She had been used badly. She had lost weight, and her skin was colorless where not marked with bruises or abrasions. One of the creatures raised her chin, made her look at Shed. Her eyes were hollow and vacant. “The walking dead,” he whispered.
“Is the revenge sweet enough?” the tall creature asked. “Take her away! I don’t want to see her.” The tall being snapped its fingers. Its compatriots retreated into the shadows. “My money!” Shed snarled.
