by Toby Frost
Anna closed the front door, leaving the forester outside. The dryad girl said, “Here,” and opened a door in the shadows. She held it open, waiting for them to go through.
They looked into a long dining hall. A fire threw light and heat across the room. A table stretched down the middle of the hall, big enough to fit a dozen people. Sitting at the far end were Sethis, Arashina, and a handsome man in late middle age, bearded and grey-haired. They had clearly just finished a meal: plates were stacked at one end of the table. The rest of the table was almost hidden by books, parchments, a pair of pistols and the powder and bullets to load them, several knives, half a loaf of bread and a rough, brown heap of tobacco in a patterned bowl.
The idea of food made Giulia’s stomach turn with anticipation: the others had been eating chicken, from the smell of it.
“Giulia!” Sethis stood up, his eyes gleaming behind his spectacles. “Join us, please; we’ve saved you seats.”
The table was wide enough to sit two across at its narrow end, and the two chairs at the far end were empty. Like a king and queen, Giulia thought. Sethis pulled the chair out for her. She shrugged off her rucksack and took a seat.
Two plates sat on the ledge above the fireplace, and Sethis fetched them and set them down in front of Giulia and Hugh.
“I thought you might be hungry after the ride,” he said. There was a pile of grilled chicken, polenta and cheese on each plate.
“Thanks,” said Hugh. “Good of you.” He pulled a knife from his belt and began to saw into the chicken.
“If you need cutlery…” Sethis added.
“Mmn, fine,” Hugh replied. He hacked out a lump of chicken and jabbed it into the polenta. “I’m rather hungry,” he added. Anna poured out wine for Giulia and Hugh and sat down.
“Arashina you know,” Sethis said, gesturing to her. Giulia nodded to the dryad, who gave her a lazy wave. Judging by the detritus on Arashina’s plate, she’d eaten rather well. Giulia hadn’t expected such a flimsy creature to have much of an appetite.
“And this is Lord Portharion,” Sethis said, indicating the man.
The wizard? Shit, this must be serious for him to be here.
Portharion stood up and bowed. “I’m pleased to meet you both.” His voice was smooth and deep. He sat down.
“You too,” Giulia said, feeling the first stirrings of unease.
“Arashina called me here,” he replied. “We have mutual enemies.”
Arashina blinked slowly and pushed her thick hair away from her face.
Something brushed against Giulia’s leg, and she glanced down. A badger stood beside her chair. Alarmed, she pulled back, and Sethis whistled softly.
“Sorry,” he said. “He’s mine. Come on, boy.”
Portharion shook his head, as though this happened a lot. He was quite attractive, Giulia thought, if a little smug. He would drive a certain type of woman berserk: she felt reassured that she was not quite that sort.
Sethis gestured to Hugh with a long-fingered hand. “Thanks to Sir Hugh here, we were able to escape the Scola with considerably less casualties than would have occurred otherwise. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank him for his help. Everyone?”
There was a rumble of agreement amongst them. Sethis said, “Sir Hugh, everyone,” and they raised their cups.
Hugh looked up, slowly chewing a wad of food. “Very kind,” he said.
The room was quiet. “Now,” Arashina said, “to business. Our enemy has moved against us. The Scola has been broken up, and more importantly, the gate to Faery is closed. Giulia, you’ve come from the city. What’s happening there?”
“Yes,” Giulia said, tearing off a piece of bread. Her mind picked up speed as she tried to work out which bits of her story to leave out. “I was there last night. Where do you want me to start?”
“So that’s the end of it,” Giulia said, hoping that she sounded believable. “I went back to the whorehouse to see Falsi, and they directed me to Iacono. He let me stay in his house overnight, and this morning he gave me directions to come up here. So I headed out of the city and came to find you.”
Sethis nodded. “It makes sense – in a crazy way. But then, this whole business is mad.”
Arashina said, “The Inquisition scum are all insane. And most humans are like stupid sheep. They’d run off a cliff if they thought there was some gold at the bottom.”
Giulia felt the insult, but said nothing.
Portharion leaned back in his chair. “A boat that travels underwater,” he mused. “Cosimo Lannato has spoken about making a machine like that. Provided it could be sealed, and powered, it’s possible.”
Arashina looked at Giulia; a long, slow, alien stare. Meeting the dryad’s gaze was like looking into a lantern. “It’s quite a story you’ve told us. Shapechangers, smuggling, boats that sail like fish: if I didn’t have it on good authority that you could be trusted, I’d think you were having visions.”
“And you live in a magic forest,” Giulia said. “Strange things happen.”
“True,” Sethis said, before Arashina could reply. “Personally, I don’t actually live in a forest. But you do have a point.”
Arashina muttered something in her own language and reached for the fruit.
Giulia swallowed and said, “So is there anything else you want to know?” She had not mentioned Edwin and Elayne. That was Hugh’s business, and her own.
Something moved at her side. She looked down and saw that the badger was nudging her rucksack. Giulia tugged the rucksack away, and, disappointed, the badger turned and stomped off, snuffling the floor in search of dropped food.
“No, thank you,” Portharion said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“I’ve got questions for you,” Giulia said.
“Oh yes?”
She took a sip of wine. “It’s only one question, to be honest. I want to know what all of this is really about.”
The wizard peered at her. “Really?”
She nodded. “This isn’t just about getting revenge on Azul, is it?” She looked across their faces, human and not, and saw the same suspicious blankness. “I mean, you barely knew who he was when we last spoke. It’s about more than just him, isn’t it?”
She stopped, and the room was silent. Like a lizard, Arashina closed her eyes and opened them again. She looked alluring and thoroughly alien. Giulia glanced to her left: to her surprise, Hugh was nodding in agreement. She had expected him to be shocked that she might make demands of these worthy allies. She picked an orange out of the fruit bowl. “Well?”
“Fair enough,” Sethis said. “It’s only right that you should know what’s going on. You’ve been honest with us; now I suppose it’s our turn.”
“Go on.”
“Putting what you’ve told us together with what we already know, it seems that Azul has been bringing in gold and diamonds, probably collected off a ship moored out to sea—”
“From the New World,” Giulia said. Her thumbs skinned the orange in strips.
“Right. To get the money past the Customs, and to avoid the problems entailed with putting money from a foreign country through Averrio in the usual way, he uses this underwater boat to deliver the gold and gemstones straight to his own people. He takes a cut and then, presumably, he splits up the goods and sends them out.”
“Varro’s books said Azul was in the Glassmakers’ Guild,” Giulia said. “Maybe he uses the guild to distribute the money.”
“We think so,” Portharion replied. “But there’s another step. To make the money look legitimate, Azul puts it through the Fiorenti Bank.”
Giulia swallowed a piece of orange. “I know all this,” she put in. “You thought the bank was hiding something, right? But what about the rest of it? You say Azul’s sending the money out. Where’s it going to?”
“We don’t
know for sure,” Sethis replied, “but we’ve got a pretty good idea. First, to the rest of his crew: whoever helps move the gold and provides protection to him. Bribes, expenses, that sort of thing. But more importantly, he’s sending money to the Hidden Hand. They, in turn—”
“Wait,” Giulia said. “Who’s the Hidden Hand?”
“I’ve heard of them,” Hugh said. “Criminal gang. Recruits old Inquisition men. Didn’t know it was real, though. They must be getting the money.”
“More than that,” Arashina said. “They don’t just want to get rich. They want to restart the War of Faith.”
Giulia said, “What? How?”
“Various ways. Hiring mercenaries. Spreading rumours. Bribing officials, and killing those who won’t be bribed. A lie here, a murder there. Little actions, but they add up. A thousand little pushes towards war.”
Giulia looked into Arashina’s eyes. “So that’s what this is all about, then. He’s bringing in money to fund these people – to help them start a war.”
“Exactly.”
Sethis adjusted his spectacles and took a deep breath. “There is a man in the Hidden Hand who regrets his former actions. This man lives a long way from here. He remains within their ranks, but passes information on to us. Several of the Old Crusaders, as the members of the Hidden Hand like to refer to themselves, have received letters in the last few months telling them to await the call to arms. They are planning something big.”
Arashina leaned forward, and her dark eyes stared at Giulia, as fierce and keen as a beast’s. “The letter mentioned a meeting place,” she said. “This city. Azul is gathering his old comrades. They may well already be here.”
“Where, exactly?”
“We don’t know. We’ve got ideas—”
“Show me,” Giulia said. She leaned down and took out Iacono’s map-case. “Here.”
Hugh helped her clear a space on the table. They gathered around the map like generals drawing up a battle line.
“This is Varro’s boatyard, and this is the warehouse where they’ve been unloading the gold,” Giulia said. “But after last night, they’d be mad to meet there again.”
Hugh rubbed his chin. “If these friends of Azul used to be inquisitors, they’ll be rich, and old. They’ll want somewhere comfortable.”
“Well, Azul’s in the guild of glassmakers…. Sethis, where do the Glassmakers have their guildhouse?”
Sethis leaned across and tapped the map twice with a long finger. “The Glass Islands,” he replied. “They do all their work on Miriano and Buriano, to the north-east.”
“Could they be hiding out there?”
Arashina said, “It’s possible. But both islands are busy places. People would notice it if he brought in a legion of conspirators. Some of Azul’s comrades are wanted men. They’d be afraid of being recognised…”
“Sirinara.” Portharion stood a little way back, arms folded. “If it was me, that’s where I’d go.”
Giulia said, “What’s that?”
Portharion drew an arc across the sea with his hand, parallel to the bay. “Here are the defence towers, yes? And here’s the Golden Griffon. The island of Sirinara is beyond that, almost past the Isle of Quarantine.
“It’s just a little place, really, a rock. But years ago the Glassmakers built a tower there from enchanted glass, a sort of fortress. They used it to show off their skill.”
Giulia peered at the map, at the tiny hand-drawn waves, past a sea-monster rearing up like the thing in the glass that Elayne had showed her back in the Old Arms. Sirinara was a tiny circle, no more than half a mile across. “Does anyone still use it?”
“It fell into disrepair,” Portharion replied. “During the War of Faith, it was too far outside the city to be worth having a garrison. It wasn’t of any military use, and it’s not a safe place to be, especially in a ship: there’s a lot of rocks, and wild griffons nest out there.”
Giulia said, “Sounds perfect.”
“Doesn’t it?” Arashina replied.
“So, what’s the plan?” Giulia asked. “We can’t just show up there and ransack the place. If we go in quietly, we risk being heavily outnumbered. We need allies – but I’ve no idea who would help us now.”
“I’m going to return to the city tonight,” Portharion replied. “We can’t risk taking this to the City Watch, but I know people close to General Attelani, people with links to the Customs. That way we can bypass the Watchmen.”
“What if they don’t want to help?”
“I’ll make them an offer. If they assist, I’ll call up a trade-wind that’ll get the port busy. If they don’t, they’ll find a lot of ships suddenly get becalmed.” The wizard smiled. “That’s bad for business.”
“Right,” Giulia said. “So, if we get them to help – and we can trust them – all we need to know for sure is whether Azul and his men will be meeting on Sirinara.”
“That’s right. Tomorrow morning, I’ll send word back here on the situation in the city,” Portharion said. “You may have to return in disguise.”
Giulia said, “We can do that.”
The wizard pushed his chair back. “Then I’d suggest you all rest while you can. We’re going to have a busy time ahead of us.”
***
Giulia and Hugh stood outside, drinking wine. It was warmer than she had expected, and she could not see her breath when she exhaled. Dusk glowed between the trees.
“Funny bunch, the fey,” Hugh said. “Good people, for pagans, but… odd.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” She stared between the trees and thought, This is going to be difficult.
A horse trotted out of the stable. Portharion sat on it, bolt upright. His expression, at once wise and stern, made him look like a Quaestan emperor. He gave them both a quick wave, then headed off down the path. Giulia was mildly surprised to see him ride. She had expected the sorcerer to vanish into thin air. On the other hand, it seemed that he would be riding through the dark. Even with a full moon, that wasn’t easy or safe. Unless you were a wizard.
Funny how the mind latched on to irrelevancies at times like this, as though it grabbed at any chance to wander off the path it had to take.
I really don’t think I can do this.
“Hugh,” Giulia said, “there’s something we need to talk about.”
The front door opened and Sethis stepped out, holding a bottle. “Do either of you want another drink?” He walked down between them. His friendliness made him look naive.
Giulia held out her cup.
“How’s your arm?” Sethis asked.
“Sometimes it aches a bit. Otherwise, not too bad. But I try not to think about it too much.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” He poured Giulia a drink, then Hugh. “I’d suggest getting an early night. There are beds upstairs; they’re quite comfortable. We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning.”
Hugh said, “Look, Sethis: all this business of getting the Customs men involved in this – are you sure we can trust any of these people? Can’t you just get some of your fellows together and raid these buggers instead? Summon up one of those, what’s it, wickermen you have. That’d give these fellows a bit of a surprise, eh?”
“Too risky,” the dryad replied. “The fey exist on sufferance here, the same as in most of your cities. To bring something like that into the city, especially without permission – our enemies would use it as an excuse to turn on us. Besides, wickermen are more Arashina’s side of things than mine.”
“I suppose so.” Hugh looked him over. “You know, I could almost mistake you for one of us,” he added.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sethis replied. “That’s the worst of living in the city: too human for my own people and not human enough for yours.” He smiled wearily. “Well, I’d best be getting back. Sleep well.”
He turned and walked inside. Giulia watched him go. The door closed behind Sethis, and she looked back to Hugh.
“You wanted to talk,” he said.
Fear and guilt moved within her stomach, twisting together like mating snakes.
Of course I don’t “want” to. I’m sorry, Hugh, but Edwin and Elayne are traitors. Bad luck, old fellow, your best friend and your damsel have sold out to the enemy. Sorry, but there you go.
“Let’s go down the path a bit,” she said.
Hugh lowered his voice. “Private stuff, is it? Right then, let’s go.”
They walked down together, towards the road. They were still out of view to anyone on the road. Giulia blew across her hands and rubbed them together.
So much for chivalry. You rescue me from Azul and I give you this in return.
“Edwin and Elayne are still in the city,” she said.
Hugh stopped. “Sorry?”
“When I went after Azul last night, while I was breaking into his warehouse, I saw their ship moored up on the dockyards on the Great Canal. It was just down from the warehouse. It looked as if it was being repaired.”
“Are you sure it was theirs?”
“I’m certain. I saw them both. They were on the deck.”
“I thought they’d gone.”
“So did I,” she said. “Look, I’m certain it was them. I recognised the ship, too, the Margaret of Cheswick. I’m absolutely sure.”
His voice flat, Hugh said, “Did you talk to them?”
“No. I was trying to get into the warehouse. I figured there might be a way to get inside via the ships, so I sneaked onto the ship next to theirs. Anyway, I saw two men on the deck of Edwin’s ship, so I hid and waited for them to go away. One was Cortaag, the man you ran through. Big, tall, with a beard.”
He stared. “What, the man from the cellar? I thought he was dead. He bloody well should be.”
She licked her lips. “He must’ve healed up, like Varro did. The other man was Edwin. They were talking.”
Hugh said, “What about? Was he threatening him?”
“Nobody was threatening anyone. They were just talking. Like you and I are now. Like friends.”