Blood Under Water

by Toby Frost

  “No. I’m not from the City Watch either. I’m on my own.” Giulia felt pity rise up again, and forced it aside. “A man died last night. They found him in the water. They think someone set a dog on him.”

  Anna stared back, her huge eyes empty.

  “The Watch think it was a religious killing. They want to blame my friend for it. My friend is an Anglian, which means he’s New Church.”

  The dryad looked blank.

  “You know what that means?”

  “Yes.”

  “So are his friend and his friend’s wife. I need to prove that they didn’t kill the man who died. The Watch have given me until the end of the week to find out what happened. If I can’t, they’ll hang my friend. And me, if they can.”

  Anna continued to stare. Giulia glanced around the little room, at the multi-coloured piece of string on the dryad’s left wrist, and back up to her eyes.

  “So I need you to tell me anything you might know. Anything you saw.”

  “Or else you will say that it was me who murdered him,” Anna said.

  That hadn’t occurred to Giulia before. It would be very easy. She could simply shift the blame from an Anglian dissenter to something even lower down the scale: a pixie-woman, a pagan slut. And no doubt half the scum that came to leer at her over pints of ale would join the lynch mob that took her to the gallows.

  “No,” said Giulia, “that’s not what I meant.”

  “His name was Sebastian Coraldo,” Anna said. “He was one of your holy men.”

  “Holy men? A priest?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He came here and spoke to me.”

  “Here?” The word jumped from Giulia’s lips. “To look at you – to see you dance?”

  The dryad raised her hand lazily and scratched the side of her head. Watching her made Giulia uncomfortable. Even now she gave out a kind of languid, casual sexuality. It was like some bewitching spell, some aphrodisiac she secreted instead of sweat.

  “He watched, and when I went back here, he came after. He wanted to talk to me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I ignored him at first. But he asked questions. He was looking for someone to listen to him.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “He said he had to talk to someone, and that I would understand him because I was fey. He was wrong: I understood nothing. He said that he knew about the new order of the world. Those were his words.”

  “Did he say anything more? Anything about what that meant?”

  The huge, soft eyes closed slowly and opened again, like a lizard’s. “His voice was different. Like yours, but a little different. I thought that he was strange.” She glanced away, looking for a phrase. “Touched by the moon.”

  Giulia frowned. The room seemed tiny, the dryad closer than she really was. Giulia crossed her legs. “Do you know where his accent was from?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did he say anyone was after him? If he was being followed?”

  “No. But he looked scared.”

  “Anna, this might sound strange, but did you see any big dogs when you were out, any big animals?”

  “No. Should I have done?”

  “I don’t know.” Giulia frowned. Her thoughts were a jumble. There’s something – she must have seen something else – dammit. “Thank you for your help,” she said. She stood up and made herself smile. Reaching into her purse, she took out a few coins and laid them on the chair where she had been sitting. The purse felt light, and a pang of anger struck her as she remembered how much the innkeeper had made her pay. “Thanks. You’ve been a great help.”

  Anna rose up fluidly, and gracefully stepped past Giulia, her bare feet soft on the wooden floor. Her fingers wrapped around the door handle.

  “Giulia,” she said, “I would rather you did not talk about me to anyone.”

  “I won’t, I promise.”

  “And come back and see me. I like you. You are” —she struggled for the word— “polite, and interesting. I would like to see you again.”

  Giulia felt a queasy mixture of discomfort and something close to lust, as if she’d been slipped a drug. She wanted to be out of here. “Well, thanks,” she replied. “I’d better go.”

  The dryad opened the door, and Giulia stopped on a sudden whim and said, “You look out for yourself, yes? Don’t let anyone push you around. I let them push me around, and—” She stopped. “Well, anyway, good luck.”

  Giulia stepped through and into the main room again. The door closed behind her.

  The innkeeper smirked at her. “Have fun?”

  “I got what I was looking for,” she replied.

  “I’ll bet you did,” he said.

  “Come here a moment.” Giulia waved him over. “I’ve got something to tell you.” Giulia smiled. “A private thing.”

  He grinned and walked over. Giulia beckoned him close, so she could whisper in his ear. He stepped up close, his boots nearly touching hers.

  “Don’t smile so much,” she whispered. “Your face wasn’t made for looking happy.”

  She felt his eyes on her back as she left. She hated that sensation.

  It was a relief to be back in the cold, away from the smell of smoke and spilt booze. The chilly air sharpened her mind, as if a spell had lifted. She no longer felt sad, or angry. The weird lust she’d felt in Anna’s presence was gone.

  Thank God for that.

  Giulia pulled her hood up and walked back along the canal.

  So, he was a priest, was he? A priest looking for a dryad and an Anglian. A priest looking for heretics.

  Of course, she thought, the dryad might be lying. No, somehow it rang true. The problem was understanding what it meant. She felt a stab of pity for Anna, and tried to think about something else.

  So, the corpse in the water was called Sebastian Coraldo. He had gone to see Anna, thinking that she would understand him, or perhaps that she’d be able to direct him to someone who would. Like most people who went to church and kept to the law, he probably thought that all pagans and heretics knew each other.

  A gondola lay moored-up on the other side of the canal. Two men were helping the gondolier unload a cargo of rugs onto dry land. One of the men glanced up as she walked past, stared for a moment, and got back to work. She hurried by, wondering if these were the spies that Cafaro had mentioned.

  Maybe Father Coraldo had been a member of some illegal sect who thought he could find safety at the Old Arms. Or maybe he had been a witch-hunter, hoping that Anna or the Anglians could lead him to rebel preachers. Being a member of the New Church was not illegal in most city-states, but trying to convert people to it was.

  It didn’t matter either way. For all Giulia might know about the dead man’s past, she was no closer to knowing who had murdered him.

  Edwin and Hugh were drinking in the main room of the Old Arms. They were the only people there. Hugh was explaining something with the help of hand gestures.

  “Pulled out shield-side, came up behind the saddle and gave it to the bugger on the back of the escudgeon! So, they see he’s unarmed, and a couple of them bear down on the off-flank to do him in. So what does he do? Whips off his shield and beats them with it and scores two more!” Hugh laughed, rocking on his stool.

  Edwin smiled – a wide smile like Hugh’s, but tinged with a little sadness. “Yes,” he said, “I remember that. Those were good days.”

  “Some of the best,” Hugh replied. “Ah, here’s Giulia. What cheer, eh?”

  “Not much,” Giulia said. She dragged a chair over to the table and sat down. “Last night I saw a dryad outside. I tracked her down and managed to talk to her. She wasn’t much help, though. Where’s Elayne, by the way?”

  “Sleeping,” Edwin said
. “She exhausted herself working magic on that Watch officer. It’s not her usual style.”

  Giulia nodded. “Fair enough. Just out of interest, if anyone tried that on me, I’d know, right?”

  “Elayne wouldn’t do that,” Hugh said, and he gave her a brief, stern look.

  “Of course. Just making sure.”

  “Did you find out anything else?” Edwin asked.

  “The priest’s name was Sebastian Coraldo. That’s about it,” Giulia said. “The dryad remembered things, but none of them added up to much. I don’t suppose either of you know anyone with that name?”

  Edwin shook his head. “Not anyone I remember. To be honest, I don’t have much cause to speak to priests, not from the Old Church.”

  “Then I’ve only got one more lead to look into,” Giulia said.

  “And if that doesn’t work,” said Hugh, “we’ll escape.”

  “It’d be hard,” Giulia said. “And chances are, a hell of a lot of people would get hurt, even if we four got out alive.”

  “Maybe, but—”

  “To be honest, I doubt any of us would get out. You heard what Falsi said about fetching soldiers from the Arsenal. I think he meant it. They’d just keep coming.”

  “Ah, yes,” said the knight. “Perhaps you’re right.” He looked into his cup.

  “All right,” Edwin said, “we need another plan. One that doesn’t get us killed.”

  “Yes.”

  Edwin sighed. “Well, what about buying our way out? I’ve got some money put away; after all, that’s what I’m here to do, trade. And I’m sure you two have some you could put in. Maybe we could pay…”

  “Pay these bastards not to slander and murder us?” Hugh stared. “You must be joking, man! I’m not paying that little rat in the Watch-house to let me go! I’ll wring his damned neck and take the next boat from the docks!”

  Giulia raised a hand. “Easy, Hugh. Even if you could make it out of the city, which I don’t think you could, what about Elayne?”

  “You need to stop thinking about yourself and consider the rest of us,” Edwin added. He was sitting back in his chair, drink in hand, looking like a prosperous minister about to say grace.

  Hugh glanced down and took another sip of beer. “The whole rotten peninsula’s on the bloody take,” he muttered.

  Giulia stretched. “There’s some good people around. It’s just a shame we don’t meet many of them. Look, if nothing comes of what I’ve got planned, we’ve got till the end of the week to come up with another idea. And remember that I can come and go as I like, so if we need anything, I reckon I could smuggle it in.”

  Edwin said, “So, what’s this other lead of yours?”

  Giulia glanced over her shoulder. Even though there was no-one else in the room, she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I saw a captain of the Watch take something off the body last night, when they pulled him out the water. I don’t know what it was, but I reckon someone in the Watch-house will. I’m going to go and find out.”

  Edwin shook his head. “It was probably just his money.”

  “Maybe, but I’m not sure. It looked square to me, like a book. I might be wrong, but I think there’s more to it than just stealing.”

  “He was in the water,” Edwin said. “A book wouldn’t be readable after that. Besides, the Watch wouldn’t let you see it.”

  Giulia looked at Hugh, and they both smiled.

  “I wasn’t thinking of asking,” she said. She stood up and turned towards the stairs.

  “Wait. Where’re you going?” Edwin demanded.

  “Upstairs, to sleep. What I’ve got planned, you don’t do in daylight.”

  FOUR

  Giulia woke in darkness. She got up, unlocked the door and lit a candle off the lantern in the passageway. Voices seeped up from the bar below.

  A bell was tolling, the same one she’d heard last night. Six o’clock: late enough for the sun to set, early enough for people to still be out on the street.

  Back in her bedroom she closed the door and took off her dress. Giulia put on her dark shirt and britches. She fastened a belt around her waist. She took out a small satchel, folded it flat and pushed it into her belt at the back.

  Ah, yes. Almost ready to go.

  Next, the knives. She strapped on two at her hips: a thin dagger that could double as a prying tool, and the fighting-knife she had been given back in Pagalia, stained black by the dwarrows so that the blade would never shine when it was drawn. She still wore a stiletto in the bracer on her left arm.

  Giulia stretched and whirled her arms to wake the muscles. She closed her eyes and said a brief prayer to Senobina, patron of thieves. Then she threw her cloak over her shoulders and pulled the hood up. She would not need her crossbow tonight.

  Downstairs, the Old Arms was getting busy. The inn was half-full, and several of the patrons were already drunk. It was rat-fight night, and stocky men held terriers with matted fur and ragged ears.

  The landlord shoved past, a writhing bag held at arm’s length in front of him. Rats for the fight, no doubt. He turned to look at her as he passed her by, and his eyes fastened on Giulia in a way no innocent person’s had ever done.

  She stepped outside and drew her cloak around her body, eager to get away.

  The moon was almost full, and she counted off the landmarks she’d seen on the way in, this time in reverse: a square tower on the right, a narrow, hump-backed bridge and then a sign advertising a minor glassmaker, with the guild symbol in polished brass in the corner. The cold made her scars tingle. Giulia crossed a bridge over the black stripe of the canal, stopped and watched to see if she was being followed. There was nobody behind.

  She walked down a narrow alleyway, the peeling tenement walls penning her in like cliffs. She passed an open window: inside, a couple were bickering. Giulia smiled as she passed, then remembered that she had no lover to argue with at all, and she hurried on.

  The Watch-house was a square white fort, standing squat and alone in a tiny courtyard. The moon put a deep shadow on its pitted face, and where the plaster had chipped it looked as if someone had blasted the walls with boarding-shot. There were two windows on the ground floor: one normal-sized and closed with shutters, the other a dark, high hole crossed by bars.

  That’s the cell where they kept us.

  Two liveried guards stood on either side of the front door. They chatted and passed a bottle back and forth, but they kept their eyes on the road. It would be impossible to creep past them.

  The first floor looked more promising. It had several large windows, all shuttered but large enough to fit her body. The window in the room where she’d met Falsi hadn’t been glazed. Hopefully the rest would be the same.

  But how to get up there? She thought about the ways in and out of Falsi’s room, the layout of the place. She slipped into the alley and worked her way to the back of the Watch-house. It wasn’t promising: there was a window on the first floor, but its shutters were closed.

  She looked at the tenement behind the Watch-house. Ten feet off the ground, a balcony jutted out. The balcony had a railing around the edge.

  I could pull myself up on that. Maybe I could lean out and open the shutters.

  She took a deep breath and rubbed her hands on her thighs. This wasn’t going to be easy. Or quiet.

  Giulia ran at the Watch-house wall. She jumped, hit the wall with both boots, pushed off and leaped at the balcony.

  Her fingers brushed the railing, but it was too high. She dropped back down into the alleyway. She landed in a crouch and froze there, listening.

  Did they hear that? No? No.

  She stood up, took another deep breath.

  “Thought it came from round the corner.” A man’s voice.

  Oh, shit.

  Giulia threw herself at the Watch-house. Her boots st
ruck the wall and she kicked down, drove out with both legs across the alleyway. She caught the railing with both hands, gritted her teeth and arched her back.

  Footsteps close below. Giulia pulled herself up, over the railing, and dropped onto the balcony. She tugged her hood up and lay there, flat on the dirty floor. Her arms ached.

  Go away. Keep walking. There’s nothing to see.

  Light seeped between the railings: the men below had a lantern. “Sounded like it came from here.”

  Something touched her shoulder: a single delicate push, as if a rod was being gently pressed against her body. Then another, and another. An animal.

  “Raaaow.”

  Fucking cat.

  “Come on, there’s nothing here.”

  A second man: “I don’t know. I thought…”

  It’s nothing.

  The cat jumped off her.

  “Shit! There’s something up there!”

  She froze, tensed, held her breath.

  The other man burst out laughing. “It’s a cat! Saints, you’re fucking jumpy!”

  Giulia listened to them walk off, bickering. She rose to a crouch and peeked over the railing. The coast was clear.

  She pulled the stiletto from her sleeve, climbed over the balcony railing and leaned out across the road.

  The tip of the stiletto slipped between the shutters. She drew it up, felt a catch flick loose and used the point to ease the shutters apart. Behind them was the darkness of the room where she had spoken to Falsi.

  Giulia replaced the knife and braced herself against the railings. Then she jumped.

  Half a second in the air and she hit Falsi’s window, grabbed stone and swung her legs up and through the window in the same movement. Giulia dropped into the Watch-house on all fours, held her breath and counted to thirty. Only then did she stand up.

  She closed the shutters and locked the catch. The moon crept through the slats into the room.

  There were two tables, including Falsi’s own: big things that reminded her of tombs in the bad light. There was nothing to search: no drawers, no locked chests or cabinets. She found a chunky crossbow, a couple of bolts and a bag of lead bullets on a shelf – otherwise, it was bare.