Dancing on the Block

by Marina Barinova

  Without taking her hands away from her dead friend’s face, the woman looked up at her lover.

  “This wasn’t just a murder, Federigo. It was revenge.”

  “Possibly. But for what?”

  “How should I know?” snapped the reply. “Rianos had a long story. Where did they find him?”

  Guiro motioned in the direction of a wooden house with windows lined by boards cut roughly with an axe.

  “Over there, today at dawn. He was in that corner.”

  “And nobody saw anything?” Shrain asked, surprise filtering into his tone. “It may not be crowded here, but it’s not abandoned.”

  “Nobody.”

  “Shit.” Artanna pulled herself to her feet and went over to the house. The cordon parted to let her through.

  She took a close look around the area, but there was nothing to be seen besides the remains of old holiday wreaths blown there from the river. She silently collected her thoughts. Who could have had it out for the harmless Ennian? The religious fanatics in Givoi weren’t thrilled with him, but Artanna was the only one who knew about Rianos’ gift for sorcery. And she kept a tight lid on her tongue. The healer had nothing to steal, and nobody really bullied him in the city. She couldn’t figure it out.

  Guiro came over to Artanna and pressed a shoulder against her as if by accident. It was the only expression of care he could afford her with people around.

  “When did he go missing?” Federigo asked.

  “He left yesterday afternoon,” Shrain replied. “When he didn’t come back after dinner, we sent people out looking for him. They checked the herbalist’s since Rianos was supposed to pick up some things there, and they said he stopped by, took what he needed, and headed home.”

  “Did they find anyone who might have seen him on the way home?” Artanna rubbed her temples wildly. The pain in her head was growing unbearable, the stench was intolerable, and her stomach continued heaving. “And what could he have been doing here? It’s nowhere near on the way.”

  “There are no witnesses,” Vezzam said.

  A murmur broke out from the direction of the square. The cordon parted to make way for a squad of armed men wearing the Brotherhood chevron, and the Hundred leader instinctively dropped her hand to the hilt of her sword.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Artanna. Please, just don’t do anything stupid,” Guiro hissed.

  Tanor himself, a large, hefty guy covered from head to toe in thick leather, was out in front. His mercenary leader jacket was so tight that it looked ready to burst at the seams. Smiling broadly, Tanor strutted majestically past the Hundred fighters and walked up to Artanna, the sunlight reflecting off his bald head. Two strikingly similar mercenaries right behind Tanor glanced at each other and simultaneously adjusted belts loaded with knives.

  “What the hell did you bring the Chironis here for?” Artanna asked in place of a greeting.

  Tanor turned to the brothers and shrugged.

  “They volunteered themselves. All we want is to pay our respects.” The tiny eyes framed by old scars flashed cunningly before settling on one of the Hundred fighters. “What a loss. Who’s going to patch up your scrawny butt now?”

  Artanna measured both Chironis with her eyes. Behind the brothers, a swanky hat and its colorful feather flashed—Piraf. The squad leader waved silently.

  “Impressive,” Artanna replied, her voice strained and her eyes meeting Tanor’s. “It’s amazing how fast news travels. After all, I just now confirmed that this chunk of meat is my healer.”

  “You’re not wrong—I do like being the first to find things out.” The Brotherhood leader drooped into a playful bow. “How else are you and I going to divvy up our beautiful city? My eyes and ears are everywhere.”

  Artanna stepped closer and smiled nastily.

  “The whole thing is getting interesting. This is your territory, so my guy met a foul end on your turf. Where were your eyes and ears then?”

  Tanor flashed her a lazy smile.

  “They may not always be as attentive as they should be. We’re mercenaries, after all, and things happen. Our patrols can’t cover an area as big as mine.”

  “Exactly. You’re paid good money for shit work.” The mercenary woman nodded toward the viceroy’s aide. “Signor Guiro, please note that Master Tanor admitted that himself.”

  “Oh, so you’re going to accuse me of something now. But of what?” The wide grin bared yellowed teeth.

  “My man was killed in your territory,” Artanna replied, spitting out each word and stepping closer to Tanor. “When we split up the city, you swore to the viceroy that you’d keep the peace. The Brotherhood has security for the foundries and the port, and you fell down on the job.”

  “Like everything’s so fine and dandy in your parts.”

  “Nobody gets hacked to pieces in my quarters,” the mercenary woman hissed. Her fingers tightened around the grip of her sword. “Of course, your people might have just been following orders. You’re the one to profit when my forces are weakened, and robbing the Hundred of our best healer is one slick move.”

  Tanor listened to Artanna’s tirade with unfeigned interested until he finally burst out laughing.

  “You really did have a few drinks! Have you still not sobered up from last night? I heard quite a bit! From the sound of it, you and Fester turned practically the whole tavern upside down.”

  “Wait a second!” Vezzam barked so loudly that Tanor jumped in surprise. The Vagran went over to the body. “He’s holding something…”

  “What is it?” Guiro asked.

  The Vagran pried Rianos’ fingers apart.

  “Curses…”

  “Say it, whatever it is,” Artanna ordered. Her voice cracked, and she mentally cursed herself for her weakness. Not there, not then, not in front of the rabble.

  “Damn. See for yourself.” Vezzam held out a Brotherhood badge. “And you, Pops, have even more explaining to do.”

  “Shit,” boomed Shrain.

  “Master Tanor, explain yourself,” barked Guiro.

  Artanna ignored the mercenary and turned to Guiro.

  “All of you, listen!” The Hundred leader’s voice rose; she jabbed a finger in Pops’ direction. “I, Artanna nar Toll, accuse this man of violating his agreement with the viceroy. I accuse Tanor Sardo of poorly guarding the territory assigned to him, leading to the death of my man. I accuse his people of the murder of an innocent. And I demand the viceroy personally look into the tragedy.”

  Alarm rippled through the onlookers. The Brotherhood fighters surrounded their leader and demonstratively placed hands on swords, eliciting a similar and instantaneous response from Shrain, Vezzam, and the few other Hundred mercenaries.

  “Slander!” Tanor roared. “Absurd! I don’t know anything about this! It’s a damn setup. She just wants to get her fingers all over my territory—how far is this Vagran whore willing to go before she controls the whole city?”

  “No further than she’s permitted.”

  Guiro flinched when he heard the viceroy’s familiar voice.

  “Signor Kirino.” The mercenary woman bowed in greeting, though she still didn’t relax her grip on her weapon.

  Tanor stumbled awkwardly in an attempted show of courtesy.

  “Good day, Signor…”

  “Silence!” the viceroy shot back viciously. “My condolences to the Hundred.”

  The Vagran woman nodded. Signor Kirino, leaving his escorts behind, gestured to the mercenaries to put their weapons away. He then grunted as he crouched next to the body of the healer and started looking over the wounds carefully.

  Artanna tracked his every move. They weren’t friends, though they weren’t enemies, either—Kirino had a good idea what the Hundred was up to, and he was certainly not in favor of it. An old man with little strength in him, there was still something left that appearances concealed. Kirino was very much alive, he had a sharp wit, and his memory was incredible. Too incredible, Guiro thought. Sometim
es, it caused trouble.

  The viceroy placed a hand over his wrinkled face and stroked his gray beard.

  “Do you have any hypotheses regarding the killer?” he asked Artanna.

  The latter nodded.

  “He was holding one of Tanor’s chevrons in his hand. Who exactly it belonged to, I don’t know.”

  “Did he have any enemies?”

  “None that I’m aware of.”

  “But you certainly do, Artanna.”

  “You think this was a message for me?”

  “For all of us.” The viceroy stood up and glanced over at the alley where Rianos had been found. “Pulling something like this a couple blocks from the town hall… It’s a strong message.”

  “And you think somebody’s declaring war on me?”

  “Hopefully, just on you, Artanna.” Guiro offered the wobbling viceroy his arm. “But whatever it is, we all need to be careful until we figure out what’s going on.”

  Artanna nodded.

  “The dead man was a follower of the Way,” she said. “Would you permit us to take his remains and perform the rituals?”

  “Of course,” the old man replied. “The ceremony expenses will be paid for out of the city treasury. I’m sorry this happened—we were preparing to give the healer citizenship in a couple years.”

  “Thank you, Signor Kirino.”

  The Vagran woman took off her cloak and handed it to Shrain, who used it to cover the mutilated body.

  “But the fact that a crime like this could be committed on territory under guard does interest me.” The viceroy tugged on his beard, staring at Tanor. “It really does. We’ll figure this out soon, so I’ll be expecting to see you both. In the very near future.”

  He glanced at the two mercenary leaders, they nodded, and he headed toward the other side of the square.

  Guiro hurried after the viceroy, throwing a worried glance at Artanna as he went. The guard dispersed. When Kirino and Guiro disappeared into the crowd, Tanor finally wiped the fawning smile from his face.

  “This is a setup!” The Brotherhood leader pulled out a knife and closed the distance between him and Artanna. “You probably arranged it yourself. What, you think you can get away with anything since Guiro is screwing you?”

  The mercenary woman stood motionless, sensing her fighters’ rage.

  “Easy, boys,” she said gently, brushing some hair out of her face. “Tanor is a moron, of course, but he understands that any harm he does to the Hundred before the viceroy finishes his investigation will make things worse for him. Isn’t that true, my dear?”

  Tanor spat between her legs and stared at her sullenly.

  “Only until the investigation.”

  Artanna let that go as well, turning to her troops.

  “We’ll give the body to the fire in the manor. Call the master. Third, you’re up,” she said wearily to Shrain.

  The giant exchanged glances with Vezzam, and the pair rolled the body up in several cloaks. Without much effort, Shrain picked it up and started making his way through the crowd.

  They got to the manor without saying a word. Nobody was angry, nobody cried, nobody lamented. Rianos didn’t care, anymore, and the only thing Artanna could do for him was find out what monster could have committed such an abomination.

  Chapter 14. Missolen

  The palace servant’s tiny room in the wing was illuminated solely by the flame of a cheap, smoky candle. The air was damp. Lady Eltinia settled gracefully onto an oaken barrel, her skirt hitching up to reveal a brocaded shoe decorated with gems and lace. The stark contrast between her luxury and the barren room unsettled the person the dowager duchess had come to speak with.

  “Well, Vasser, while the all-important husbands are out playing gods and trying to mete out the fate of the empire, tell me about your new master.” The woman’s soft voice rustled gently in the gloom.

  “He isn’t my master, Lady,” came the regretful reply. He was a fair-haired young man who chopped off the ends of his words the way they did in Highligland. “I’m just his squire.”

  Lady Eltinia shrugged.

  “If you do everything we agreed, you’ll soon be a knight yourself—I’ll take care of that. Sir Vasser Dibrion…” Lady Eltinia let the title roll off her tongue before falling silent, giving him time to let the dream sink in. “But for now, tell me everything you were able to find out about Voldhard. You got your money in advance, after all, and keeping you where you are isn’t cheap, either.”

  Pulling himself away from his musings, the spy nodded.

  “I was selected as a squire, though just a junior squire, exactly the way you said. But I think the fact that I can read and do arithmetic means my position will change soon. I’m already getting close to His Grace’s inner circle, I’m running errands, and, best of all, I’m in the kitchen a lot. The servant girls love chattering over the food, so you can hear a lot of interesting things while you’re eating something good.”

  “Get to the point. We don’t have much time, and I want to know everything.”

  Vasser shook his curls and scratched his long, slender nose.

  “The duke has a pretty large entourage. That’s unusual for someone who grew up in the Order—they’re usually very unsociable, preferring their prayers and weapons. Lord Gregor is focusing on the youth, getting the children of barons and counts close to him. Most are fighters who His Grace campaigned with on the border with Rundkar. But the most interesting person there is Aldor den Grauer, a landless baron. Those two have been friends since they were pupils in the Order. I’m not sure why, but Voldhard trusts Grauer like himself, even made him his steward. That surprises me.”

  “Why?”

  Vasser shrugged.

  “He’s older, he looks and acts like a southerner, he doesn’t know how to fight… Strange company for someone who can’t imagine life without battle. And they’re so close…”

  Lady Eltinia’s eyes narrowed slyly. “Are you trying to say that young Voldhard likes men?”

  “No, by Gillenai!” The spy waved his arms as much as the tiny room would allow. “The duke prefers women in bed. At least, I definitely know of one case, though I’m only going to tell you about that once I get the rest of my modest pay.”

  Lady Eltinia pulled an embroidered velvet bag off her belt and held it out to the young man.

  “I wouldn’t call it modest. You’re costing me quite a bit,” she muttered. “The things you do for gossip. All right, go ahead.”

  Vasser’s eyes glistened as he weighed the bag in his palm.

  “The ambassador from Latandal, Lady Irital, is currently in Ellisdor. That’s no surprise since she’s often traveling, though Her Grace is particularly fond of Highligland. This year, she’s been to Ellisdor three times, and only once on an official visit.”

  The Ennian smiled knowingly.

  “I imagine there’s a very good reason for that, yes?”

  “I’m afraid His Grace is that reason. They often spend time alone.”

  “How alone?”

  “Completely alone. They’re very, very close, my gracious benefactress.”

  Lady Eltinia’s brows shot upward in feigned surprise.

  “So, you’re trying to tell me, my friend, that the intended spouse of the next emperor shares a bed with Voldhard?”

  “Exactly. The day before we left, the duke visited the ambassador and sent the servant girl away. Needless to say, the girl didn’t listen, and instead decided to indulge her curiosity. She says they did the kind of thing you don’t talk about in decent society. She told me herself.”

  “And what did that information cost you, my dear?”

  “Surprisingly, my lady, I even enjoyed the process.” The squire’s face split into a proud smile. “You taught me well. But, I’ll admit, I miss Missolen. When are you going to bring me back?”

  “Soon, my boy. For now, you’re needed in Ellisdor. Head back to Highligland and await news. I also need what you told me today in writing
.”

  “Certainly. And the servant girl who told me everything…”

  Lady Eltinia nodded.

  “Get her here when you have the chance. She’s a valuable witness—don’t let me down.”

  “Never,” the squire replied, dead serious. “I’ll prove to you how grateful I am.”

  The dowager duchess smiled indulgently.

  “It turns out, I trained you well. Remembering your debts is good, my boy, and you’re doing an excellent job paying them back so far. I’m happy with you, Vasser Dibrion.”

  “Should I give my letters to the usual person?”

  “Yes. And now go before you’re caught. Until next time.”

  The young man bowed respectfully. Lady Eltinia leaped up elegantly from the barrel and whisked out the door.

  A minute later, the sound of her footfalls had faded. She’d gotten the information just as they’d agreed, all fair and honest—good money for good intelligence. But there was no agreement in place that Lady Eltinia was the only person who would benefit from the secrets he knew.

  Vasser Dibrion was expecting a second bag of coins that evening.

  Chapter 15. Missolen

  “Hello there, Renar.”

  A handshake was followed by a reserved hug and a blessing with the sign of the Keeper. It was a game for the public, all etiquette with not a drop of warmth. Ever since Renar Devaton had become a pupil of the Order, their last shred of friendship had disappeared.

  You still haven’t forgiven me.

  “What brings you to Eclusum, Demos?” It didn’t take much intuition to see that Renar was less than happy to see his brother.

  “You missed my appointment ceremony when I was made advisor, and you stopped writing mother. The family is worried.”

  “Sorry,” Renar replied coldly. “I’ve been busy with my service. Please accept my congratulations.”

  Lying is a great sin, dear brother. You should know that, shouldn’t you? I’d swear on anything it was because I missed your initiation as a knight of the Order.

  Demos looked up at Renar and felt a short but painful twinge of guilt.