by Jackson Lear
“Thank you,” I said.
“Our pleasure.”
I strolled outside. Scanned left and right. The kid was at a full scurry already. I hurried after him, following him down one street and to a woman dressed in brown clothes standing in the middle of a plaza. He spoke to her briefly. She pointed northwards. He ran off. I followed.
Down more streets he went, an impressive display of dodging pedestrians and ducking past carts and donkeys. A kid on a mission, no time for distractions. It was less easy for me. I was bigger, drew more attention to myself, and have to actively step out of the way of people instead of ducking under their arms.
The kid ran to another woman dressed in brown, waiting on the side of the road like that was her purpose in life. Spoke to her. More pointing. He ran off. Into a beer house. I stopped outside to catch my breath. He shot out again, barging past me, back the way we had come, my note still clutched in his hand. Into another building. I peered inside. He was chatting to a kid a few years older than him. Another beer house, catering to home consumption. The messenger flew out the building, down another road. Stopped at a pair of old men in city watch uniforms. They shrugged. He ran on, asked around, flew past me again; his third potential sighting of me yet he was blind to my presence. Down one long stretch of road with apartment buildings lining the street for as far as I could see and …
Zara was there. Leaning against one wall, casting her attention from left to right in rhythmic fashion. She was in a surprising set of clothes. A fine emerald coat hung from her shoulders. Hardly the thing for a rugged journey; more of a fashion accessory and thus utterly pointless. Which I suppose was the point if she wanted to blend in and not look like an assassin. She wore a soft cream shirt underneath still with her black sash around her stomach. Tan riding trousers. Sturdy boots.
The kid darted left, stopping to question an old man sweeping the sidewalk clear. The man pointed inside and up. The kid ran into the apartment building. I timed it. His pace hadn’t slowed for his whole journey, except when he had stopped to ask for directions. One, two, three … my pulse was still high after jogging for half a mile. Four, five, six.
Zara turned. Locked eyes on me. Sighed with a, ‘you’re predictable, you know that?’
I strolled forward, half to settle my breathing back to normal, half to keep track of how long the kid was inside for.
Thirty seconds after he went in the kid shot out again. Message delivered. Back to headquarters. For the fourth time that day he paid me no attention at all.
Thirty seconds. He went in, knocked on the door, shoved the letter underneath, left without bothering to speak to anyone, out again. The building was five stories high. If the kid was a consistent runner then Muro lived on the second or third floor.
Zara stood from her leaning position and turned to face me. I sidled up next to her, propped myself against the wall, and exhaled loudly like I was a bored youngster on my last day of the job. “So, what are we looking at?”
Zara arched an eyebrow, showing off a slight scar running through it. “We?”
“This is hardly a coincidence, is it? You and I bumping into each other once again.”
“No. The coincidence was Verseii. This is just you being an uninvited nuisance.”
“I presume Alysia told you to come and find me.”
“Not exactly.”
“But she didn’t want her husband finding out, so we just happened to bump into each other in a subtle bid of keeping an eye on me.”
Zara looked away, scowling. “You don’t know Miss Kasera very well.”
“I figured I would guess and if I was wrong you would delight in correcting me.”
“And correct you I will. Why are you sticking your nose into other people’s business?”
“I’ve missed you too.”
“You’re not going to win this one.”
“I might.”
“Not against a governor who can command thousands troops to find you.”
“Still might.”
“Not against someone who can put a hundred thousand mark reward on your head.”
“Then that would make me the most highly sought-after mercenary in all of history, wouldn’t it? Will there be poems of my epic tales?”
Along came a sigh. “I don’t exactly see you as the sort who wins people over.”
“Nor do I, so I’m not going with that approach.” I nodded towards Muro’s building. “Shall we?”
“No.”
“Because you’re not dressed for it?”
“I am, actually. This is the outfit of a professional.”
“You look like a rich lady’s chief-of-staff.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not going to work on an asshole.”
“It’s working on you right now.”
I’m pretty sure I sent her a curious look.
“Does ‘I’ve missed you too’ ring a bell? You’re out of breath and you still couldn’t help yourself.”
“I was relieved to see you. I figured Alysia would’ve told you that Muro was next on my list and you would come along to intercept me. By doing that you would’ve helped me to figure out not only what street he lived on but which building he lived in.”
“And then what? You would just happen to win him over? One asshole to another?”
“Nah. I was going to piss him off until he made a mistake.”
Zara shook her head. “If this is anything like your last approach, do you really think you can solve some great mystery by poking everyone you see until someone happens to tell you the truth?”
“Yes.”
She stared back at me like she couldn’t quite figure out if I was lying. “Really? You really think it’s that simple?”
“Most of life is that simple, yes. This isn’t a plot by the Gustali’s to overthrow the empire, is it? No. It’s just some dead guy who was a liability to someone with money, power, and connections. All it takes to solve it is some leg work and a little poking.”
“People aren’t just bristling with the need to tell you their deepest, darkest secret.”
“Sure they are. People love secrets. They love learning them and they love telling them in confidence. It’s the world’s cheapest and most devastating drug. You can ruin marriages, topple governments, and force people into exile with the right secret. Everyone knows something about those around them and they are just salivating at the prospect of being able to reveal it to someone else because it elevates their self-importance.”
Zara groaned, annoyed that she couldn’t prove me wrong. “What do you want, Raike? You’re here for a reason and I don’t think it’s because Artavian was your best friend who needs to be avenged, so what are you after?”
“I want to know who killed Artavian and who wants Lavarta dead.”
“Why?”
“If I tell you, will you help me?”
“Depends on what your motives are. What do you want from this?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You of all people want something.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’ve probably never done anything for free. A favor, or the expectation that what you’re doing will benefit you later on. You always have a motive.”
“Then you don’t know me very well.”
“No? You still haven’t answered my question. What do you want?”
I shifted my attention back to Muro’s building.
“Money? You can have money just to leave Miss Kasera alone. A job? You can have a decent job with your talents by the end of the day with any company. Friends? Well, that one is going to depend on your glowing personality. You can’t win this one. You’re up against people with more money and power than you’ve ever dealt with before.”
“Then it’ll be a quick investigation.”
She arched her eyebrow again, baiting me.
“See, the more money, power, and connections you have, the more untouchable you think yo
u are. Hell, most of the high-borns have no problem telling you who they bumped off because they’ve lived a life of getting away with it. No judge is going to convict them, not when they can pay off a witness or two to change their story.”
Another shake of her head. “You got kicked you out of your company, didn’t they?”
“Depends. What did Alysia say?”
“Miss Kasera hasn’t told me anything about your past. I just assumed.” She looked me up and down, an annoyance building in her quicker than she expected. “You came here looking for money.”
“Actually I’m here despite the money. I left a decent chunk of it back in Verseii.”
“So you’re doing this for noble reasons? Try as I might, that one is a little too hard to swallow.”
“Since I’m not a noble it’s not for those reasons. But who knows, maybe my deeds will one day be recognized and I’ll become one. Sir Raike of Erast. Or wherever. What’s the word for it? Ordained?”
She shifted into her native language. “Restula.”
I shook my head. “Haven’t heard that one before.”
“No? Stick around for long enough and you might hear it a lot.”
I nodded, leaned back against the wall. “So, what are we looking at?”
“Nothing. I’m cautioning you – from Commander Lavarta’s own words – you should leave Torne today. You are exactly the kind of trouble his wife doesn’t deserve.”
“I can’t leave. I’m starting to like the place.”
“Someone will have followed you. If not from Erast to Verseii then certainly from Verseii to here.”
“I did notice there was a great big army on my tail for most of yesterday.”
“If you think that’s a great big army you haven’t seen shit.”
I couldn’t help but ask. “There were five hundred and fifty people at march. Throw in the missing cavalry and you have six hundred. Gustali, Kasera, and Renair both have two thousand four hundred, making the total armed force in Syuss to be seven thousand two hundred, am I right?”
Zara nodded. “The governor is able to command each of the general’s into a single force, but as a whole the generals will still command their own troops. What you saw yesterday was not an army. It was a cohort.”
“Without its commander.”
Another nod, this one more resigned than the last. “The commander had to ride on ahead.”
“Because of Artavian?”
Another nod.
“That’s not something he would’ve done if Artavian had actually died by accident.”
“He still might’ve.”
“True, but the commander believes it was murder.”
“I can’t say what the commander believes.”
“Then do you think Artavian was an accident?”
She grimaced. “No.”
“Why?”
“A hunch.”
“You don’t strike me as that kind of person. You’re investigating this, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is Artavian’s death not an accident?”
“Because a lot of his paperwork was missing when the commander arrived in the morning.”
I nodded. Then puzzled it over. “That seems uniquely careless.”
“Not everything was taken, just enough for it to be unusual.”
“Like what?”
“Some daily reports and all personal correspondence.”
“Daily reports like who was where, who said what?”
Zara nodded.
“Do the missing dates align with anything in particular?”
“Hard to say. The paperwork was handed over to the military police before I could inspect it all.”
“Is there still the suspicion that Lieutenant Gustali is the reason why Artavian is dead?”
“I can’t speak on behalf of what the military police believe.”
“What about what the commander or Miss Kasera said out loud in the privacy of their own home?”
She shook her head at me. “There’s a chance Lieutenant Gustali is innocent in all of this.”
“Right. The walls have ears and even the Lavarta staff can gossip about what they overheard.”
Another nod.
“However …?”
Zara glared as she mentally kicked herself. I admit, it warmed my soul. “Miss Kasera expressed a concern to me in private, that Lieutenant Gustali could’ve got a message out to his father before the cohort began their march home, and that his father could’ve had an assassin positioned in Verseii waiting for the cohort’s arrival.”
“That’s a lot of could’ves.”
“Indeed.”
“The lieutenant, is he short, broad, dark haired, and in charge of the largest century?”
“That’s him.”
“I couldn’t help but notice that he looked rather pleased with himself yesterday on the long road to Torne.”
“I’d be careful about jumping to conclusions too soon. He was heading home after all, and without the commander present the lieutenant is the one giving the orders.”
“He likes that side of things, does he?”
“I haven’t experienced it myself. I’ve only heard fragments of what the commander has said out loud.”
“It’s not too much of a stretch to see it happen. He can get away with being a dick because his old man runs the whole province, so he can talk back to the commander without much fear of repercussion.”
“Miss Kasera has mentioned the same,” said Zara.
“Does the commander suspect anyone whose last name is not Gustali?”
Zara held her tongue.
“Or operating on their behalf?”
“At this point, no.”
“Good. So what did Artavian discover about the lieutenant?”
She shook her head. “You won’t be getting that from me.”
“I can get it from Alysia.”
“By all means. And I’m sure plenty of others will be able to tell you as well, but you shouldn’t think for one second that I’m going to reveal to you gossip that could be used to blackmail the Gustali family.”
“Do I really look like someone who would be dumb enough to blackmail the governor?”
She arched another eyebrow at me.
“Fair point. I’m assuming that since five hundred and fifty men and women just walked halfway across Syuss that they didn’t see much in the way of heavy combat?”
“It was more of a show of force than any actual engagement.”
I glanced up and down the street, arched my back, and was ready to make a move again. “We should go.”
“You’re not going to wait for whoever it is you were looking for?”
“Nah, he’s not home.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he would’ve come hurtling out of there the moment he read my letter.”
She nodded at me, slowly. “You’ve learned to read?”
“No, but my writing has greatly improved. Let’s go.”
“Where to?”
“To see Steward Gabriella.”
Zara remained where she was. “Gabriella?”
“You know where she lives.”
Zara didn’t say anything.
“They needed one steward to remain behind at camp and she was the one who was chosen. Martius sent a messenger to tell Gabriella where they were staying in case anything happened. Something did happen. I’d like to find out if Gabriella told someone she shouldn’t have where Artavian was staying. She might exonerate Gustali or Muro or she might not.”
“She won’t tell you anything.”
“She will if you come along.”
“Why me?”
“Because she knows you.”
I started to wonder if Zara’s forehead ever relaxed since I had only ever seen a scowl or look of disbelief.
“She doesn’t know you?”
“No.”
“Impossible. You and Alysia were at the commander’s cam
p for the night. A general’s daughter is big news. Gabriella was the only steward at camp and she had to know where everyone was. She probably organized the tent you slept in. You and the riders who journeyed with her. And anyway, do you really want me to speak to her?”
Zara’s features narrowed like a hawk going in for the kill. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
Chapter Sixteen
Zara knocked on Gabriella’s door. A bleary-eyed blond with her hair matted halfway across her face answered. “Hmm?”
“Gabriella?”
“Uh huh.” She turned her attention from Zara to me and back to Zara again.
I asked, “Late night?”
“No, sir.”
‘Sir.’ Good way of winning me over, though I’m sure it’s from having to address everyone as ‘sir’ for the last few months. I readied a question. Zara beat me to it.
“I’m sorry to bother you during your leave. I’ve been asked to look into Artavian’s death and I have only a couple of questions. You two were friends, weren’t you?”
A torrent of random thoughts rammed their way through her mind in an instant, causing a quick series of blinks and darting of her eyes. She was now thoroughly awake.
“You weren’t friends?” Zara asked.
“No, ma’am, that wasn’t … I mean, yes. Well, he was my superior, so ... I mean we were friendly.”
“Can you tell me what happened the night you arrived into Verseii?”
“I wasn’t there.”
“You weren’t there in Verseii?”
Gabriella blinked once more, stumbling over her words and back tracking again. “Sorry. I was at the camp. I wasn’t with Artavian or the others. Sorry, ma’am, you are …?”
“Zara.”
Gabriella looked to me. “And you, sir?”
“Raike.”
She locked our names in pretty quickly. “And you’re both investigating this?”
“For the foreseeable future, yes,” I said.
Zara’s charm remained steady. Light and pleasant. “Can you tell me what happened at the camp that night?”
Gabriella shrugged. “We arrived just after dark and set everything up as per usual. When we were done Sergeant Muro made the rounds and gave everyone who wasn’t on duty permission to head into Verseii. I stayed in my tent, kept a record of who went and who stayed, and had an early night, right up until the birds screeched around us and woke everyone up. Aside from Miss Kasera’s arrival nothing unusual happened at camp.”