by Richard Ford
‘Is this where the torture begins?’ Friedrik asked.
Kaira turned, opening her mouth, wanting to tell him to be silent, but she could find no words.
Was it where the torture would begin? Was this where she would beat him? Cut him? Slice off his extremities?
That is not you. That has never been your way. It’s not likely you will start now.
‘I will ask you some questions,’ she replied.
‘Questions?’ he said, his lips turning up into a smile. ‘How utterly tedious. Surely it’s time to send in the boys, let the fun begin?’
What was wrong with this man? He couldn’t really relish the thought of being tortured … unless of course it was all bravado.
‘Where is the Guild based?’ said Kaira. ‘From where do you organise this city’s criminals?’
Friedrik laughed. ‘Really? That’s all you can come up with? Some dull question you know I’ll never answer? Do be serious, dear, and stop wasting my time.’
‘I will have an answer to my question,’ she said, standing before him, holding him in a steel gaze. A gaze she had used on the battlefield, a gaze that had made veteran warriors crumble.
Friedrik just smiled again. ‘Am I meant to be intimidated? By a woman? Is this some kind of joke? I’m guessing a real interrogator will be here in a minute to put me to the question, while you go off and fetch the tea. That’s it, isn’t it?’
Kaira’s fists clenched, her teeth grinding together. She had bloodied men for less.
‘Where? Tell me or I swear by Vorena I’ll—’
‘You’ll what? You’ll pull out my fingernails? You’ll cut out my eyes? Then get the fuck on with it, because listening to you going on, girl, is giving me a stinking fucking headache.’
She hit him, hard in the gut, without thinking. Her wrist suddenly blazed in pain as she felt the stitches pull tight. Kaira gritted her teeth against it, not wanting to show any weakness in front of this man, but she needn’t have bothered. Friedrik was doubled over, gasping for air. But as she took a step back and as he laboured for breath, he slowly looked up, eyes wide, revealing a glint of the insane as he forced his mouth into a grimace.
‘You’ll have to do better than that,’ Friedrik said, his face reddening with every strained word. ‘Much fucking better.’
Kaira knew she’d never be able to do better. The man was helpless – insane but helpless – and it was not in her to make a man suffer if he could not fight back. Even a man such as this, a man who would see hundreds sent into slavery just to line his own pocket.
She turned for the door, hearing him laugh as she opened it. Once she had slammed it closed behind her, she breathed a deep sigh of relief. Just being near Friedrik seemed to infect her; he was poison, a canker on her and this city. She raised a hand to her brow and felt a sheen of cooling sweat there.
‘You all right?’ asked Leofric, who was standing guard nearby.
Kaira nodded, then spotted Rag crouched down in the passageway. Kaira suddenly felt the bite of shame. This girl, this child, had been at Friedrik’s side for weeks, months maybe. How had she managed to live with such a man? For a moment Kaira began to appreciate the girl’s bravery.
But maybe she’s not just brave. She must be cunning too, to have survived so long. Maybe she knows more than she’s letting on.
‘Rag, stand up,’ said Kaira.
The girl obeyed. ‘Won’t talk, will he?’ she said.
Kaira shook her head. ‘No, he won’t. He won’t tell me anything. Can you tell me anything, Rag?’
The girl shrugged her shoulders. ‘Don’t know nothing,’ she replied. ‘I’m just Friedrik’s pet. He don’t tell me none of what he gets up to and I only know one of his hideouts and that won’t be much use now he’s not in it. Only thing I ever get to see is people being hurt. Only people I meet in the Guild come and go as they please. Now you’ve got Friedrik I might never see none of them again.’
‘Then I need to get him to talk,’ Kaira said, as much to herself as to the girl. ‘But it can’t be the Greencoats or the Inquisition. It can’t be anyone who might have any links with the Guild.’
Rag looked doubtful, then brightened as though she’d had an idea, but the expression was gone as soon as it arrived.
‘What is it?’ Kaira asked.
‘Well … there might be someone we can trust, but I don’t know how good he’ll be at making Friedrik talk. He might just as likely strangle him as soon as he sets eyes on him.’ A mischievous smile crept onto her face. ‘Friedrik’ll shit himself when he sees him, though.’
THIRTY-SIX
Nobul ached like someone had been using him as a doormat for a month. He had always healed fast, always been able to shake off the hurt, but he was feeling his years now. Nevertheless, he could walk and, at a push, he could fight. That was all that mattered. If the Guild were still after him – and he guessed after his party back at the tavern they most likely were – he’d need to fight soon enough.
As he walked the early morning streets he wasn’t scared, though. Let them bloody come. Let them try to take him back and throw him in another dog pit. He was ready now. They wouldn’t find it so easy to catch Nobul Jacks a second time.
A small part of him wanted them to come. Part of him looked forward to the fight. They’d tried to humiliate him, tried to kill him, but he’d paid them back for that. There were a dozen corpses as testament to it. He’d had his taste of vengeance, but his hunger was not satisfied. If he could remember the way back to that tavern in Northgate he’d most likely have gone right now and killed anyone in there but he’d stumbled out delirious – wandering in a daze. He hadn’t a chance of finding, let alone recognising, the place again.
Not that it mattered. As soon as he got his hands on Anton he’d go to work and no mistake. That little bastard would tell Nobul everything he knew – but most importantly, where he could find Friedrik. Then there’d be a reckoning. That little bastard had been responsible for the death of this son. He’d been the one to order the hit that had seen his son bleeding to death on a rooftop. Without him and his fucking Guild, Markus would still be alive.
Nobul wasn’t done by a long way. Right now though, he needed to get back to the Greencoats, back to Kilgar and let him know what had gone on. He trusted his serjeant; Kilgar was a man of honour, if a bit of a bastard. Better that Nobul had someone watching his back, especially if he was taking on the Guild – there was no reason to be foolish about it. Nobul Jacks might well have been able to handle himself in a brawl, but there was no point being reckless. With the rest of the lads behind him it’d be easier to find those scumbags and take them down.
When Nobul walked into the courtyard of the Greencoat barracks the lads were sat around like none of them had a care in the world. Old Hake was telling Bilgot, Dustin and Edric some tale about the old days. The three of them were listening intently; even fat Bilgot kept his mouth shut as the old fella went on. None of them noticed Nobul at first, and he scanned the courtyard for Anton. The little bastard was nowhere in sight, and as Nobul headed to the main building, Kilgar came out.
The serjeant stopped in front of Nobul, his mouth opening, most likely to ask where in the hells Nobul had been for the past few days, when he noticed the state of Nobul’s face.
‘What the fuck’s happened to you?’ Kilgar asked, though he didn’t look that concerned.
‘Had a run-in with some dogs,’ Nobul replied, in no mood to go into details just yet. ‘Where’s Anton?’
Kilgar shrugged. ‘I was going to ask you the same thing. I’ve not seen him for days.’
Hake had stopped his chatter now and the lads were looking over. ‘What about you lot?’ Nobul asked, turning to them. ‘Anyone seen him?’
The lads just shook their heads. It was clear Nobul was in no mood to be pissed around.
‘You all right?’ Kilgar asked. ‘Do you need some time off?’
Nobul shook his head. ‘I’ve had enough time off.’
&nbs
p; ‘Good,’ said Kilgar, ‘because you’ve had visitors, just this morning. They’ve brought you something.’
‘Oh aye? Anything good?’
‘Follow me and see for yourself.’
Kilgar turned and led Nobul towards the cells.
Down in the torchlit corridors beneath the barracks Nobul could see two figures waiting up ahead. One was a tall woman who looked familiar, though for the life of him he couldn’t place her. She was broad at the shoulder, the features of her face strong and proud.
The second figure he did recognise, even stood as she was in the shadows. She looked at him, her eyes wide, fearful. That stung him a little bit. Out of everything he’d done back in that tavern, all the death he’d caused, frightening that little girl had been the one thing he’d regretted.
‘You all right?’ he asked Rag.
‘Yeah, you?’ she replied.
‘I’ll live,’ he said.
He wanted to smile, wanted to thank her, wanted to take her in his arms and give her a grateful hug, but he didn’t. Because as Kilgar opened the cell door, Nobul had a feeling he knew what was waiting for him. And this was not a time for thanks and hugs and gratitude.
This was his time for vengeance.
He was sitting on a chair, hands bound behind him, sack over his head. Nobul remembered how it felt to have a sack over his own head, remembered how it struck fear in your guts, how you didn’t know where you were or who was watching or what they were going to do to you next.
‘They brought him in earlier today,’ said Kilgar. ‘The woman’s from the Sentinels. Says this here’s—’
‘Yeah, I’ve got a good idea who this is,’ Nobul said, walking into the cell.
He was excited, almost gleeful. All he’d wanted for the past few days was to get his hands on this bastard, and now he had him. Might as well enjoy it.
Slowly he lifted the sack off Friedrik’s head. When he looked up at Nobul, Friedrik seemed to go through a range of emotions – fear, confusion, recognition and back to fear again. Then he smiled.
‘Wondered when I’d see you again,’ he said.
Nobul just glowered at him.
‘He’s high up in the Guild, by all accounts,’ Kilgar said. ‘Is it who you were expecting?’
‘Yeah, it is,’ Nobul replied.
‘How do you know him?’
‘Let’s say I’ve been lucky enough to have been his guest for the past few days.’
‘Indeed,’ said Friedrik, ‘and what entertaining company you’ve been.’
Nobul took a step forward, his fist clenched, but before he could think where to begin, Kilgar took him by the arm.
‘We need him talking, not dead,’ Kilgar said. ‘The woman, Kaira, said you were the only one she could trust with the job, though to be honest she didn’t sound too sure about it.’
Nobul looked over his shoulder to where Kaira was watching from the corridor. Rag stood beside her, and he reckoned it was more likely the girl had been the one to say this was a job for Nobul.
Was she right? Could he get this bastard talking without killing him first? Only time would tell, he supposed.
‘What do they expect me to do?’ Nobul said. ‘I’m no inquisitor.’
‘That’s what I’ve been saying,’ said Friedrik. ‘Surely it would be better for everyone if I was just turned over to the Inquisition. Then none of you have to worry about me anymore.’
Nobul shook his head. ‘Do we look fucking stupid? We know you’ve got your grubby little paws into every nook and cranny of this city. Wouldn’t surprise me if the Seneschal himself is in your pocket.’
Friedrik just shrugged. ‘Then we appear to be at something of an impasse.’
‘Yeah, we do.’ Nobul turned to Kilgar. ‘Leave me alone with him.’
The serjeant stared back uncertainly. ‘Remember, we need him alive. I’d be as happy as you to see him dead, but we won’t get any answers that way.’
Nobul said nothing, and with no other choice Kilgar eventually conceded and left Nobul to it, walking out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him.
‘Alone at last,’ said Friedrik. ‘Need me alive, yes? So what are we going to try? Strangulation? Beating me to a pulp?’
‘You killed my son,’ Nobul said.
Friedrik seemed to think on that. ‘Mmm, don’t remember that one. I’m not really into that kind of thing.’
‘It was one of your murders went wrong. He was caught in the crossfire.’
‘Ah, an unfortunate accident then? If it makes you feel any better, I’m sorry. We both know I’m not shy about killing, but even I don’t relish the death of a child.’
‘No, it don’t make me feel any better. And I don’t think you’re sorry.’
Friedrik’s expression darkened. ‘Then you’d better get on with it, hadn’t you?’
Nobul clenched his fists. He would have liked nothing more, and there was no one here to stop him. But if he didn’t try to get Friedrik to talk Nobul knew he’d regret it. If he could bring down the Guild, or at least the men at the top of it, surely that would be vengeance enough. Surely that would mean Markus hadn’t died for nothing.
‘Where are the other bastards you work with?’ Nobul asked. ‘How do I find them?’
Friedrik shook his head, looking almost disappointed that Nobul wasn’t going to kill him. ‘Not this again. You know I’m not going to tell you. And big and tough as you are, there’s nothing you can do that will make me.’
Looking at this sadist, sitting there all helpless, Nobul suddenly realised he would get nothing from him. You didn’t rise to the head of the Guild without being stubborn to the point of insane. You didn’t control every brigand and thug and thief in the city without being able to control yourself, without being able to resist blabbing even when your skin was flayed and your teeth pulled right out of your head. As much as Nobul would have loved to test that theory, he was sure he’d be wasting his time.
‘May as well finish it right now then?’ he said, taking a step forward.
‘Or,’ Friedrik said, ‘you could think about your future.’
Nobul stopped, looking down at the little man, wondering whether he should just strangle him. ‘Go on.’
‘I can make you rich,’ said Friedrik. ‘I can give you anything you want. The Khurtas are coming to destroy this place. You want a mansion far from here, filled with all the ale you can drink and all the whores you can fuck? I can make that happen. All you have to do is get word to my people and tell them where I am. I know we’ve had our disagreements in the past, but I’m willing to put them behind us. Think about it, Nobul, anything you want in the world and I can give it to you.’
‘Anything?’
‘Absolutely,’ Friedrik beamed. ‘You just name it.’
Nobul leaned in close, glaring at Friedrik, his words spat through gritted teeth. ‘Give me back my son.’
Friedrik looked disappointed. ‘I can see there’s no reasoning with you, is there?’
Nobul didn’t answer, taking the sack and putting it back over Friedrik’s head before he was overwhelmed with the urge to pummel that face to mush.
Back out in the corridor, Nobul could only shake his head. ‘There’s nothing I can say, no threat I can give that will make him talk. I doubt anyone could.’
‘So what do we do with him now?’ asked the tall woman.
‘We’ll hold onto him,’ Kilgar replied. ‘Maybe something can be done with him later.’
‘No,’ said Kaira. ‘I cannot risk losing him. I have pursued that man for a long time. There’s too much of a chance he’ll escape, even from here.’
‘Trust me,’ Kilgar replied. ‘No one knows he’s here but us four. And I’ll have him watched by someone I trust.’
Nobul agreed. ‘The more you keep dragging him across the city, the more chance someone will end up spotting him. He’s safe enough here for now.’ He didn’t know whether he wanted Friedrik close to keep him safe or close to kill him. Either
way it was best if he was within reach.
Kaira turned to Rag, who only shrugged in reply.
‘Very well,’ said Kaira, though the reluctance was clear in her voice. ‘If he talks, send word to the Sentinels and I will come immediately.’ With that, she and Rag left.
Out in the courtyard Nobul thought about Rag again. Perhaps he should have told her he was sorry and he didn’t mean to scare her back in that cellar. That sometimes, when his mad was up, it wasn’t too clever to be around him. But, truth be told, he was too tired. Dead tired – like he’d walked a hundred leagues – and he was in no mood for apologies.
‘All right, lads,’ said Kilgar, walking into the courtyard with a note in his hand. ‘We’ve had a summons. Got some kind of special guard duty we’re needed for. Get kitted up and let’s go. Hake, you’ll stay here. There’s a special duty for you. Someone who needs looking after in the cells.’
As the lads went to get their gear together, Kilgar looked at Nobul. ‘You coming?’ he asked.
What else are you going to do, Nobul Jacks? Sit around on your arse waiting for someone to give you a back rub?
‘Aye,’ said Nobul. ‘I reckon I am.’
THIRTY-SEVEN
‘It’s time,’ she said.
Waylian had been standing for an age, waiting for his mistress to finish with her quill and parchment, scratching out some missive or other in the candlelight.
She stood up from her desk, straightened out her robe and ran a gloved hand over her grey hair. If Waylian didn’t know better he’d have thought she was nervous.
He followed her through the Tower of Magisters, up towards the Crucible Chamber. This was the third time now, and it didn’t make him any less apprehensive. The vast antechamber still rendered him awestruck; the imposing Raven Knights were just as intimidating as the first time he’d ever come to the place.
Once the bracelets were placed over Gelredida’s wrists she stood close to him.
‘This might be the last time we get to speak, Waylian,’ she said in a low voice. ‘So remember, it’s imperative the vote goes in our favour. I will be vulnerable in there, but you may use any and all means necessary to protect me.’