The messenger broke and ran. She barely reached the edge of the clearing when the butt of Brigid’s spear snapped out and caught her in the gut.
The girl doubled over and fell to the ground.
Brigid stepped out of her hiding place and pointed her spear at the girl. “Where do you think you’re going?”
The girl clutched her stomach and moaned. Gerard stalked over, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her back to the center of the clearing.
He slapped the messenger across the face. “Where is Lord Cobb? Talk or you’ll get worse than that.”
Her moans turned to laughter. “You got me, I admit it. Doesn’t matter though. I’ll never break.”
Gerard backhanded her and set her lip to bleeding. The girl glared at him, but stayed silent. Gerard raised his hand again.
“I don’t believe you’ll convince her that way,” Yaz said. “The young lady is a true believer. Mundane methods of interrogation will avail you nothing.”
“You have a better idea?”
“Indeed. Let me introduce you to the third member of our group. Silas?”
Silas stepped into the clearing with Wicked floating at his shoulder. He made quite an entrance. The girl stared at him or more precisely the little floating skull.
“My friend is very skilled in both lightning magic and necromancy. What do you think, Silas? Are there any spells in your bag of tricks to compel her to speak?”
“Not while she’s still alive,” Silas said. “But if we kill her, I can call her spirit back and question that. Better yet I can force the recalled spirit to tell the truth. You wouldn’t think it, but a soul can feel pain if you know the right spell. Lucky for us, I do.”
“Gerard, since she’s holding your employer hostage, do you want to do the honors?” Yaz asked.
Gerard dropped the bag of gold and drew his sword. “With pleasure.”
The messenger stared at the length of steel then looked at Silas who stood grinning and rubbing his hands together like a villain in a child’s story book. It was an almost comically excessive display, but from her worried expression, it seemed to be working.
Gerard raised his sword and she screamed, “Wait! Please. I’ll tell you. Just don’t do anything unnatural to me.”
“Speak, girl, and speak fast.” Gerard lowered his sword.
“The society is holding him in a warehouse near the docks. It’s owned by Three Dragons Trading.”
“Assuming your plan had succeeded, what were you going to do with Randall?”
“Kill him and toss his body in the river. I don’t know why, but Master Tor made it clear he was to talk to no one.”
“That’s stupid,” Yaz said. “If you weren’t going through with the swap anyway, why keep him alive at all? It makes no sense.”
“You’re right. No matter their talk, I doubt the higher-ups have the stomach to kill him. Most likely they’d have chickened out and decided to keep him in a cell for the rest of his life. Stupid, as you say, but it’s not my place to question.”
Yaz nodded. It wasn’t impossible to believe. There was a big difference between holding someone captive and killing them. It was surprising to hear that the society leaders had scruples enough to refrain from murder, but it made things easier for them.
“Silas,” Yaz said. “A moment?”
They moved a little ways away from the others and Yaz whispered, “I think she’s telling the truth. Is there anything you can do to confirm it?”
“Not directly,” he said. “But a while back I had to run a con on someone to get information and I used a fake curse to get them to think if they lied, they were going to die horribly. We could try that.”
“Okay, think I get the idea. I’ll set it up then follow your lead.”
Yaz and Silas went back to the messenger.
“I believe you,” Yaz said. “But I can’t discount the possibility that you’re a really good liar. Just to be safe, Silas is going to put a spell on you.”
Silas stood over her, shadows already gathering around him. “This spell is called The Curse of Living Death. It binds your soul to your body so no matter what happens, you can’t die. You will be forced to experience the pain of dying for all eternity. The only way to end it is if I come back and lift the curse or you find a necromancer more powerful than me to do it. If you want to add anything to your story to assure I come back safely, now is the time.”
“No,” the messenger said. “I told you everything, I swear. Please don’t do this. I’ll do anything. Please.”
“Sorry, can’t risk it.” Silas chanted and the darkness grew deeper. A pair of red eyes appeared in the swirling shadows. He pointed and it all slammed into the girl who struggled and tried to escape without success.
And then it was done. The shadows vanished, leaving Silas looking like his usual self.
“Let’s tie these two up and get going,” Yaz said. “It won’t take long before the society realizes something’s gone wrong.”
Though it was smaller, Fort Kane felt busier to Yaz than The City of Bells. Wagons raced far too quickly through narrow streets putting pedestrians in harm’s way. Curses flew back and forth, though no one seemed to take them very seriously. Yaz had never visited anywhere like this and had no great desire to do so again.
After dropping their prisoners and the sack of gold off back at the Cobbs’ manor, Yaz, Brigid, and Silas had made plans to locate the warehouse and free Randall. Gerard had insisted on joining them and no one objected. He’d already risked his life to free his master, so they had no doubts about his loyalty. Besides, having someone with local knowledge might be handy.
When they arrived, the gate guards had given them no trouble. It seemed that before he started working for Randall, Gerard had served in the city watch and still had good relations with them. Given their business, Yaz was glad to have him along in case things went bad.
They’d been walking for ten minutes and weren’t far from the warehouse district when the smell hit them. The stink wasn’t as strong as the sewers, but it held the same flavor.
“Gods, why did I ever want to leave home?” Brigid asked with her hand over her nose.
“I believe you mentioned adventure and seeing the world,” Yaz said. “Who would have guessed so much of the world smelled like an outhouse?”
“Fort Kane uses the river to carry their waste away,” Gerard said. “The rains have been few and far between this summer and the water level is low. It is not a pleasant combination. When Lord Cobb offered me a job, getting away from the river was a welcome benefit. I can’t thank you all enough for helping rescue him.”
“We haven’t rescued him yet,” Yaz said. “Plus, we’ve got our own reasons for wanting to save him.”
“It’s a shame you had to use such a nasty curse on that girl,” Brigid said.
Yaz and Silas shared at look.
“The truth is,” Silas said. “That was all bluff and illusion. I doubt there’s such a thing as a living death curse and even if there was, it would take a necromancer far stronger than me to cast it. So few people know anything about magic that it’s easy to trick them.”
Brigid gave Yaz a hard look. “I suppose it was your idea.”
Yaz shrugged. “The concept was. For all our sakes I had to make sure she was telling the truth. If scaring that girl is the price for us walking out of here alive with Randall and learning more about our people’s fate I’m happy to make that trade.”
Brigid blanched. “I hadn’t thought of it in quite those terms.”
Gerard was watching the interplay with the hint of a smile dancing around his lips.
“What?” Yaz asked.
“Nothing. It’s just you all seem to get along well. That’s good. I’ve seen many squads torn apart because the members didn’t fit together as well as they should. Having people you can depend on is the most valuable thing in the world.”
“And yet the Scaled Society seems to prefer gold.” Yaz paused when he spotte
d a long row of warehouses. “I think we’re here. How do you want to do this?”
“Let’s just walk by and see if we can figure out which warehouse is theirs,” Gerard said. “Once we know that, we can decide how to approach.”
No one found fault with that suggestion and they started walking again. Every warehouse had a sign on the front above the main doors. Some had writing, others just designs. Wagons were being loaded and unloaded by swearing teamsters at every warehouse but one. The quiet building had a sign featuring three dragons chasing each other’s tails. That had to be their target.
The group continued past, careful not to give the place a second look in case someone was watching. When they reached the end of the street they stopped in the shade of a rundown tavern.
Yaz scratched his chin. “You’d think they’d have something going on, just to blend in a little. Anyone paying the least attention could tell something strange was happening at that warehouse.”
“No one was, though,” Brigid said. “Everyone’s so busy with their own work, they don’t give anyone else a thought. That would never happen back home. Even out on the farms, everyone knew everyone else’s business.”
“I didn’t see any guards,” Silas said. “I expected at least a lookout.”
“Someone standing around and not working would look even more suspicious than the quiet warehouse,” Yaz said. “They have a dock. Maybe we could attack from the river.”
“We’d be sitting ducks coming from that way,” Gerard said. “Maybe—”
His thought was cut off by the clatter of a wagon rumbling to a stop in front of them. The driver climbed down, tied off his team to the rail in front of the tavern, and said, “You’re blocking the door.”
“Sorry,” Yaz said. He looked at the wagon and grinned. “I’ll give you two silver scales for the use of your wagon for half an hour.”
“Five,” the man said without missing a beat.
“Three, I don’t need you to drive it.”
“Deal.” The driver stuck out his filthy hand and Yaz shook it. “You pay for any damage.”
“Fair enough.” Yaz counted the coins out and passed them over.
The driver went in looking well pleased. Yaz eyed the empty wagon.
“What was that about?” Gerard asked.
“Lost teamsters making a delivery.” Yaz untied the horses. “It’s a warehouse, right? What could be less threatening than a wagon pulling up to the door to make a delivery?”
“That could work,” Gerard said.
“Great.” Yaz looked at each of them in turn. “Anyone know how to drive one of these things?”
The wagon clattered up to the Three Dragons warehouse with Gerard driving and Yaz riding beside him. Apparently in his youth, Gerard had worked as a teamster on three caravans before moving to Fort Kane and getting a position with the watch. Brigid and Silas hid under a tarp in the back posing as cargo.
“Whoa.” Gerard pulled back on the reins. They waited a full minute for someone to come out and see what they wanted, but no one obliged. “What do you want to do now?”
Yaz hopped down from the wagon seat. “Knock.”
He pulled a dagger and held it hidden along his forearm then marched straight up to the heavy wooden doors and rapped good and hard half a dozen times. Half a minute passed and he feared he was going to be ignored a second time when the doors finally opened enough for a grizzled face to appear in the gap.
“What the bloody hell do you want?” he asked.
“I got a delivery.” Yaz jerked a thumb toward the wagon.
“We’re not expecting a delivery.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, pal. We just go where we’re sent. This is the Three Dragons warehouse, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have another warehouse around here do you?”
“No.”
“There you go. Could you let us in? If we hurry, my partner and I might get another load today.”
“We’re in the middle of something here,” the man said. “I’m telling you this isn’t the warehouse you want.”
“Can’t you at least take a look? If we return with the load, our boss is going to be furious. Please?”
The man stepped out revealing an apron-covered pot belly and bowed legs. “I can’t let you in no matter your cargo. I feel for you, really. I’ve worked for my share of assholes, but it’s out of my hands.”
Yaz snapped the dagger up and pressed the tip hard against his neck. “That’s a shame. Because if you don’t open that door and let us in, I’m going to have to kill you and do it myself. You don’t strike me as a Scaled Society true believer. No reason to die for fanatics, right?”
“Gods damn it. I told them not to bring the merchant here, but did anyone listen to me? No, I’m just the warehouse manager. What do I know?”
“Where are they holding Randall?” Yaz asked.
“Rear left corner. He’s tied up on the floor. Two guards.”
“Anything else? Be honest, don’t do anything stupid, and you might live through this.”
“No. It’s just the three of us. Not like a man bound hand and foot’s going to cause us any trouble. Not beyond shutting my business down and getting me taken hostage at least.”
“I feel for you,” Yaz said. “Let’s get those doors open. I’m going to let you go, but I won’t be far away, get me?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
Yaz lowered the dagger and pushed the right-side door open while the manager pushed the left. As soon as it opened enough, Gerard snapped his reins and guided the wagon through. Yaz fell in behind them.
The inside of the building was lit by oil lanterns that cast a ruddy glow over dozens of stacks of crates. Two men in leather armor, big, strong and fit, unlike the manager, came running from deeper in the warehouse. Both of them held drawn long swords.
“Hey! What are you doing?” the left-hand guard shouted.
“Silas!” Yaz shouted.
The wizard popped up from under the tarp and hurled lightning from both hands striking each man in the chest and sending them flying across the warehouse into a pile of crates where they stayed very still.
No other threat presented itself as Silas and Brigid climbed down out of the wagon. The warehouse manager closed the doors and came over, hands raised. “I guess you weren’t messing around. Those two had a fair reputation as fighters. They worked for us as caravan guards plenty of times over the years.”
Gerard leapt down from the driver’s seat and ran toward the rear of the warehouse. Yaz and the others followed more slowly. When they reached the back left section, Randall was free of his bindings and rubbing his wrists.
“Are you well, my lord?” Gerard asked.
“Yes. And for the thousandth time call me Randall. I figured I was going to die here. Should’ve known you and Emma wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Lady Cobb and I will always do our utmost to keep you safe,” Gerard said. “But much of our success is due to these three.”
Randall looked Yaz and his friends over before settling his gaze on Yaz. “You look familiar.”
“Yazgrim Yeager. I sold you wolf hides two years ago. My father’s chief of Dragonspire Village.”
Randall snapped his fingers. “Right, I remember now. How did you escape?”
“Escape?” Yaz shook his head. “Brigid and I were out of the valley when whatever happened, happened. Our parents are missing along with all the other villagers and visitors. We found your lucky coin and came hoping for answers. Saving you seemed like the best way to get them.”
“Not that we weren’t happy to help,” Brigid added.
“Whatever your reasons, I’m glad for the rescue. As for what happened, I’m not entirely sure myself. Last thing I remember was eating a late supper at the inn when a wave of exhaustion rolled over me. Next thing I know I’m manacled and locked in the hold of a ship along with scores of others. When my captors finally bring me up on deck,
we’re in Port Steel harbor.”
Yaz knew all the maps of Carttoom and there was no way for a ship to travel from the valley to Port Steel directly. Even the deepest rivers would accommodate only shallow barges. Trading ships sailed along the coast and that was it.
“How?” Yaz asked.
Randall stood and stretched, cracking his back and neck. “I asked myself that more times than I can count and still have no good answers. Anyway, from the docks we were taken to a slave processing center. Men and women were separated, questioned, and divided further based on any skills they possessed. Yazguard and the other warriors ended up in a third area, far from the rest of us.”
“My mother?” Yaz asked.
“I’m sorry, I saw no sign of her. When my turn came and I gave my name, I was quickly taken aside. Among the merchant class at least, I’m fairly well known. Any attempt to sell me in an open auction wasn’t going to go well. Many of the bidders were apt to be my colleagues and none of them would believe for a moment that I was a debt slave and the idea of having a peer kidnapped and sold into bondage wouldn’t please them any better.”
“But no one would care about poor farmers like my parents,” Brigid said.
Randall shook his head and refused to meet her angry glare. “That’s the way of the world I fear. No one ever claimed it’s fair. The bosses got into an argument about what to do with me. I only recognized one of them. Korbin Breaker runs the Slavers Guild. He wanted to kill me and feed my body to the sharks. A few of the others agreed, but an old bearded man, an elder in the Scaled Society I think, asked that I be turned over to him. They’d try to get my wife to pay a ransom for me before finishing me off. The others seemed to think he’d done something to earn an extra reward and they agreed on the condition that I never speak to anyone about what happened.”
“How could they promise that?” Brigid asked.
“By killing me once they got the gold. I’m delighted that they failed thanks to you all. I hope my story was suitable reward for saving my life.”
The Mysterious Coin Page 16