House of Assassins
Page 24
“Of course. Good luck to you.”
The big man grinned. “Humble Gutch needs no luck.” He made his way through the crowd toward Chattarak.
The Black Sheep was the most popular worker establishment in town, and thus crowded. There were many simultaneous conversations and arguments going on, most rather loud and drunken. The workers seemed to enjoy debating about everything, from Capitol politics they obviously didn’t understand, to the quality of the tobacco they were smoking in great copious amounts. There were several games of chess being played, and some of them were interesting enough to attract a betting crowd. Ashok called upon the Heart to sharpen and focus his hearing until he could pick out Gutch’s voice across the room. It was hard, since they were right next to the crackling fireplace.
“Hello, my friend. Busy night. Mind if I sit here?”
“I wish you wouldn’t.” Chattarak had an angry growl of a voice to match his rough appearance. “I prefer to drink alone.”
“But then who would I share this with?” There was a clunk as Gutch put the wine down. Then the scraping of a chair as the big man took a seat. “Ah, that’s better…Come. Drink. I’m celebrating.”
“What’s there to celebrate?”
“Exciting new business ventures and huge profits. Speaking of which, I was told that you’re the man to talk with about hiring a barge to go down the Nansakar.”
“You mean up, stranger. There’s nothing downriver from Haradas except wilderness.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“Then you heard wrong.” Chattarak was growing suspicious. Ashok readied himself to act. He would try to remove the wizard from the room as quietly as possible.
Yet, Gutch was such a good liar that he managed to calm the wizard. “No need to be wary, friend. My associates spoke highly of you. I’m Vinod, a tracker of certain specific goods. I often sold things to a fellow in Neeramphorn by the name of Bajwa, but unfortunately he’s no longer with us.”
“Oh? I hadn’t heard.”
“It was a terrible accident. I’m afraid Bajwa’s body was devoured by pigs.”
“Appropriate. They’re cannibals.”
“I know! That’s what I thought too. A toast!” Ashok could hear the wine being poured. “To cannibalism!”
Chattarak actually laughed. “To cannibalism.” There was the clink of glass against glass, and a pause as the men drank. Gutch was even better at this sort of seedy business than Ashok had expected. “Ah, that is good.”
“Indeed.” More wine was poured. “But now I’m in a quandary. While the bosses of Neeramphorn fight to see who will take the apothecary’s crown, in the meantime I’ve got no one to sell my goods to, and I find myself in need of notes. So I thought to myself, why not dispense with the middleman and meet Bajwa’s best customers myself?”
“What goods do you speak of?”
“It is the strangest thing. I was walking along the beach minding my own business—”
“The border of hell is an odd place for a whole man to take a walk.”
“I was enjoying the sunrise. But then I nearly tripped over a dead demon washed up on shore. Not a large one, and it had been nibbled upon by fishes, but still about three hundred pounds of useable flesh and bone.”
“You don’t say? That’s quite the find. I’ve heard certain men would pay a lot for that sort of thing…But you didn’t mention where you found such a prize.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure I can find my way back to where I hid it. I had it packed someplace cool so it will remain in excellent condition while I am away.”
“Three hundred pounds…I must warn you, Vinod. The scales we have at the dock here are very accurate.”
Gutch laughed. “Forgive me. I tend to exaggerate. If I was going to negotiate such things, I would have to call it exactly two hundred and eighty-seven pounds of prime demon, practically bursting with useful magic.”
“A significant treasure.” The greed was apparent in Chattarak’s tone. “Most off-books wizards would only be able to afford, at most, a few pounds at a time.”
“A tooth here, a finger there, spreading it out over that many customers means a significant risk of one of them getting caught by the masks and telling them about me. So you can see why I’m seeking Bajwa’s favored clients. I can think of no one else who would be prepared to purchase in such quantity right away.”
“A tracker could retire a wealthy man for such a sale. To do you such a favor, it would be wise to grant these customers a bulk discount.”
“How much of a discount do you think would be appropriate, my new friend, Chattarak?”
“Since they don’t know you? Twenty-five percent less than what they’d pay Bajwa, at least.”
Gutch groaned. “For such quality? That’s robbery!”
“Such is the cost of building new relationships.”
While the two criminals haggled over the price of Gutch’s imaginary demon, Ashok continued watching the room for any other threats, but the local workers seemed to be having a merry time. Those who practiced magic in secret needed to be cunning in order to survive, but maybe Chattarak had become complacent here? It seemed to be going well, but he remained wary, waiting for the wizard to spring a trap.
“You know what? I like you, Vinod. I’ve decided to introduce you to my friends. I’m sure they’d love to hear your offer. Come, now. We must go if we are to catch them still at the docks…” Chair legs scraped across the floor. “Mind if I carry the wine?”
“Drink all you want. I’m happy to share.”
Gutch was tall enough that it was easy to see his head above the crowd. Ashok watched them from the corner of his eye as the wizard walked out the front door. Gutch was clever enough not to get caught looking around, and wise enough to know that Ashok would follow. He waited long enough to not be suspicious, then got up, and weaved his way through the crowd.
The night air was much cooler and cleaner than the stifling, smoky interior of the Black Sheep. Chattarak was leading Gutch toward the river and now that any random passerby could clearly overhear their conversation, they’d stopped talking about their Law breaking. Ashok leaned against the wall and waited for them to get further ahead so he wouldn’t be caught following. The workers of Haradas seemed to be of a cheerful disposition. Everyone who walked past Ashok gave him a nod of greeting, as was their local custom. He returned the greetings, but tried to keep an expression that showed he did not wish to engage in conversation. That particular expression came naturally to him.
Once they were a hundred feet ahead, Ashok followed. Chattarak was heading for the docks. Even if a river was free of demons, only the poor lived close to bodies of water. It was inconvenient to have your water delivered, but displaying your status was more important than convenience. Besides, if you were truly important you could afford to dig a well. Walled family estates gave way to humbler homes, then to lower-status worker dwellings. They walked past warehouses, storage yards, and workshops. There were fewer people here, and far fewer lights.
The docks were a simple wooden affair, just big enough to give the bargemen something to tie to for the night. There were fires burning beside some shacks on a mud bank downstream. That’s where the casteless would live. After the people of Haradas dumped their waste and trash in the river, the untouchables could drink their fill. It may have been customary to show kindness to strangers here, but people rarely showed any mercy to their casteless. It was often easier for whole men to forget they existed at all.
There were a few stands and small buildings around the docks, but no lights were burning. There were no guards posted because there was nothing worth stealing. Only a fool would want a barge. Ashok had learned about barge work only recently from Thera, before that the whole endeavor had always been beneath his notice. It was one of the most degrading positions a worker could be obligated to. Most of the labor would be performed by casteless under their supervision. It was hard to imagine any whole man living out thei
r days floating atop water, but trade demanded that someone do it.
For a powerful wizard to pretend to such low status, Chattarak had to be an exceedingly dedicated criminal. Gutch’s new boots echoed as they walked across the wooden planks while Chattarak’s simple shoes made no sound. Laughing loudly, he directed Gutch toward one of the shacks built over the water. Ashok sharpened his vision. There was no sign of Chattarak’s supposed friends. In fact, there were no witnesses at all. It could be that Chattarak simply wished to continue their negotiations in secrecy, but it was a fine place for a murder.
Ashok focused on his hearing and began walking faster.
The wizard opened the door and gestured for Gutch to enter the shack. “In here.”
Gutch hesitated. “It’s awfully dark. Are you sure this is where your friends are?”
“I know where my friends are, but do you know where yours are, Vinod? Like the wizard who has been stalking us through the shadows.”
“A wizard?” Gutch sputtered. “I don’t know what you mean!”
“Who else would have such a potent piece of black steel hidden beneath his shirt?”
“Easy now, Chattarak, my friend, I didn’t realize you could sense magic too. I guess you’re not as good at it as I am though. That black steel’s not hidden on his chest, it’s in his chest. Long story, but—”
Chattarak smashed the wine bottle over Gutch’s head. The big man collapsed into the shack. “Shut your fish hole, tracker. I’ll deal with you later.” The wizard closed the door then turned to meet Ashok. “Greetings, newcomer.”
Ashok had reached the dock and begun walking across the planks. Standing over the river made him uneasy. Canda was bright tonight. The moon gave them more than enough light to fight by, but not so much that any passerby would notice them and alert the watch. He stopped ten feet away, opened his coat, and placed his hand on his sword.
“I have some questions for you, wizard.”
“I may have answers, but that depends on who is foolish enough to think they can deceive the Lost House.” Chattarak reached beneath his coat and drew forth a pair of katar. Each push dagger had a foot-long triangular blade. He aimed one at Ashok’s face and snarled, “You know my name, but I don’t know yours. Speak, before I carve it from you.”
“I am Ashok Vadal.”
“Really?” Chattarak tilted his head to the side. He obviously hadn’t been expecting that, but his lack of fear indicated that he was a dangerous opponent. “Well, this is an honor, meeting the infamous Black Heart. I marvel at your persistence, but I have no quarrel with you. What do you want with me?”
“One of your kind took someone I have sworn to protect, a woman named Thera. She will be returned to me or else.”
“I know of her. She was brought through here by a brother wizard, Yuval, but she was drugged, so I never spoke to her. Though Yuval told me of Sikasso’s recent misadventure. Most unfortunate that.”
“I cut off his arm. How many of your limbs will I have to remove before you tell me what I want to know?”
Keeping one katar up, and the other cocked back by his side, Chattarak slowly backed away, further over the water. “I understand why Sikasso took that contract. It should have been a simple job, keeping an eye on you. When it was over we would receive your sword in payment. I warned him that was too good to be true. Sikasso should have known that to offer such an incredible prize, the job couldn’t be that easy.”
How dare someone offer these criminals Angruvadal? “Who arranged that payment?” Ashok demanded. “Was it Omand?”
But Chattarak only smiled. Ashok would have to wring the truth from him.
“Instead of gaining an ancestor blade worth of fragments, we lost several brothers, and the only prize received for our efforts was yet another puzzle. You’ve left Sikasso in a precarious position, crippled, frustrated, and failing to deliver on his great promises. I suppose I should thank you for that, because his discomfort does amuse me greatly.”
Apparently this wizard did not care for his humiliating posting. Ashok drew his sword and started toward him. “Where are they?”
“Sikasso is not a patient man. Your woman is probably already dead. You threaten me for no reason, but you’re not so fearsome without an ancestor blade. You’ve done me a favor coming here.” Chattarak’s voice had become a dangerous hiss. “I suppose with the glory I gain for avenging our fallen brothers, I’ll get out of this dead-end obligation.”
He struck, katars moving so fast they were nothing but a blur of steel. Wizards didn’t fight like normal men. Their bodies moved at speeds which left warriors baffled, then pierced and bleeding. But Protectors trained to fight wizards, and Ashok had killed more of them than anyone else. He was not easily impressed by their tricks.
The blades darted in, lightning quick, driven by demonic energy but Ashok countered, moving his sword and his body to turn them aside at the last instant each time. Chattarak adjusted, and began slashing, extending his arms and whirling about. Using up so much valuable magic, the wizard became a force of nature. The blows just kept coming. Ashok attacked, trying to strike him in the arms, but they retreated faster than a cracking whip.
The assassins of the Lost House were good fighters. He’d killed some, but by surprise and overwhelming them quickly. In a straight fight, they were remarkably skilled. Ashok smashed one of the katars down, but before he could cut the wizard’s leg out from under him, the smaller man turned his whole body, leapt, and launched a spinning kick right into Ashok’s face.
Stinging, lip split, he took a step back, and spit a gob of blood onto the boards.
“Oh yes. You did me a favor coming here, Protector.” Chattarak was smiling, enjoying himself, still thinking he had a chance.
Ashok had merely been trying to take him alive because he couldn’t question a corpse. “Come on then.”
Chattarak lunged, driving both blades at his chest. This time, Ashok dodged to the side, slicing as the wizard flew past. The cut went deep. Blood flew into the air.
“How—” Chattarak took a few halting steps, and then looked down at the weeping laceration. “Oceans.”
“Where is Thera?”
The wizard roared and struck, twin katars flashing, constantly jabbing and cutting, moving with such speed that he had to be consuming whole chunks of demon at a time. Danger came from every angle, feet and knees coming from below, trying to trip him up, while steel came straight at him or from the sides.
Ashok stayed ahead of every attack.
Wizards could make their bodies faster, but their minds still processed information at the same speed. They had all the power in the world, but it did no good to deliver it in a manner that Ashok found predictable.
“What manner of demon are you?” Furious, Chattarak swung with all his might.
Ashok caught him by the arm, twisted it around until the elbow broke, and drove the wizard’s own blade into his guts.
Gasping, Chattarak stumbled back. The handle of his katar was jutting from his stomach, embedded so deep it had to be sticking out his back. The other weapon, and the chunk of bone he’d been using to power it, dropped from his fingers to clatter against the wood.
“Speak quickly, wizard, or I will beat her location from you.”
The wizard grabbed his belt, hand curling around dangling charms of demon bone. Ashok lunged for him, but it was too late. The moon disappeared as the dock was consumed by darkness. He had seen these wizards shape shift before, into great birds or a swarm of insects to escape his wrath, but there would be no escape this time.
Crashing through the dark, Ashok collided with whatever Chattarak had turned into, but it wasn’t feathers or millions of husks, but rather the scales of a reptile. Then the moonlight came back, and he was entangled with a giant, hideous serpent.
It curled around his sword arm and tightened, so hard and fast that he couldn’t even strike. The snake’s head rose above him, solid black eyes gleaming as a forked tongue shot past fangs. It
struck for his face, but Ashok got his other arm up in time, and the fangs pierced his wrist instead. Venomous fire shot through his muscles, but he was too focused on capturing this wizard to care. So Ashok used his own arm bones to lever the snake’s head down enough so he could begin beating it in the skull with the pommel of his sword.
Only Ashok realized too late that the beast he was wrestling wasn’t a magical facsimile of a land snake, but a water snake. It had wrapped around his legs, and they went down, rolling toward the edge of the dock.
They hit the river with a splash.
Beneath the surface it was a different world, the home of evil, where no man should ever willingly go. A river was just a finger of hell, reaching up onto land, searching for something to destroy. Beneath the water, it made the strongest arm weak, the sharpest eyes half blind, and the keenest ears deaf. Water loved to drown the brave and stupid.
The only time Ashok could remember experiencing fear was beneath the water. This remained true.
He did not like experiencing fear.
Holding his breath as the wizard tried to crush him, Ashok kept striking, but the evil water was slowing his movements too much. Ashok released the pathetic sword and let it sink to the bottom so that he could have that hand free to drive his thumb into the serpent’s eye. He ground it in hard. The eye popped beneath the pressure, but the socket was too narrow to get his thumb into Chattarak’s brain.
They twisted and fought as they spiraled into the deeps. The current was strong, and Ashok could feel the scrape of rocks and the impact as they hit the submerged timbers beneath the dock. They were being swept downstream. His precious breath was a stream of bubbles escaping toward the surface. The white moonlight of Canda was broken and reflecting above. His situation was dire. Even if he hadn’t been wrestling a giant snake, he had been raised a whole man, and thus did not know how to swim.