As if she’d give in to that. She could cope with any horror as long as her brother was still safe. Only then, only once, had she been on the verge of giving up. Now … scorn was easy to take.
When she walked into the guard tower and found her captain stood there with a handwritten letter she thought that was it, they’d found a way to eject her… But no. There was only one writer in the city with a seal like that, and it was the one person in the guard hierarchy who hadn’t shown her open contempt.
It was also the person at the very top.
Thieftaker Vika had sent Elena a personal summons, and she smiled as she scanned the faces of the men and women in the guardroom, who were looking at her as if she was about to be thrown off the top of the tower.
“Excellent, I have plenty to report,” and she walked out knowing her less than helpful colleagues would start wondering.
Vika had many reputations, but one was for a fairness towards women. Not favouritism, but fairness. Maybe she would like to hear what had been happening way down there.
Elena found a spring in her step. Such was guard hierarchy that breaking away from who you reported to and marching your way up the levels of command was frowned upon. Elena might be a sergeant, but you weren’t going to earn any favours from the rank and filed by knocking on Vika’s door.
Deciding to have a repast to settle her, Elena paid for a bunch of grapes and ate them as she came closer to the home of the Thief Taker.
For reasons known only to Vika, the building was not part of the government structures which filled one section of the town, nor part of the walls and strong points of the guard. Vika had set up her base of operations in an old temple, the home of a god who was long forgotten. Some said the building was on top of a warren of corridors and cellars, but no one had ever produced a first-hand account.
It had the effect though. No warm government architecture that people could feel at home with. Just oddities to unsettle those being questioned.
Elena tossed the grape stalks into the gutter and stepped up to the temple, which now had guards stationed outside. The stone wasn’t even cut in straight lines, the building seemed at an angle. Elena grinned. How perfectly effective.
Soon she was inside, handing her letter over and being guided through the corridors, until she was knocking on a thick wooden door.
It opened from within, and Elena found herself a footfall away from the Thieftaker.
“Please, come in, help yourself to a drink if you need one.”
Elena nodded, and stepped into a room where your attention was supposed to go to the well water on the central desk, and not on the large map which hung on the wall to the right.
“That looks so useful,” Elena gasped, forgetting ceremony, walking over to it. The city spread out in front of her.
“Oh, you like it. Yes, I wanted to know exactly what was where, so I spent a full month’s budget getting people to make it. Hasn’t failed me yet. Tell me, does the city look like you’d imagined? If you were a bird?”
“I … I think so.”
“Then you’re rare, which is good. Most people don’t realise.”
Vika would have sat if Elena had, but obviously this interview was going to be conducted standing.
“Now, Sergeant, I have invited you here because of some developments.”
Elena snapped herself back into the here and now, turned and walked up to the desk. “Yes, I have been doing some research into the drug gangs formerly operating in the city and…”
“Drugs gangs?”
“Yes. There have been…”
“Gangs importing drugs, I followed that part.”
“Well, I’ve…”
“Been looking into them, yes, you said. The thing is, Elena, if I might use your given name, that’s not why you’re here.”
“Oh.” Elena was fairly sure she wasn’t in any trouble. Unless the bastards had set her up for something…
“No. You’re here because I have a job for you. It’s my understanding your captain likes to send you to every shitty thing, so you are more than aware that, for the past few months, a killer has been mutilating people on our streets.”
“I am very much aware.”
“Someone, age unknown, sex unknown, profession unknown, entire identity unknown, has killed and killed again. It has to stop, and the person who’s been in charge has failed to do so.”
“It must be difficult…” Elena said before realising she was defending someone who probably hated her.
“The thing is, Elena, I know you have the stomach for working on this, because they keep sending you to the bodies.”
“Oh…”
“I know you have the brains for working on this, because you managed to indict the military, you managed to convict the soldiers who attacked your brother.”
“Yes…”
“And I believe you have the commitment to go after this serial killer with every fibre of your being.”
“You’re … putting me in charge of finding them?”
Vika smiled. “Your first deduction of the case. I am certain there will be many more. So yes, you are being taken off your regular duties, and you are being given command of the case. To be fair, that’s command of yourself, but I am sure you can recruit assistants.” If you can find anyone who will help you, which is about nobody. Vika felt this was better left unsaid and just conveyed with a sympathetic head nod.
“I’m honoured, truly, I am.”
“You’ll be honoured, if you catch him or her.”
“That is exactly what I will do.”
“Good,” and Vika came round and clasped Elena on the arm. “Leave the other stuff alone. The drugs and what have you. Go after this like a hunting dog. But try and sleep sometimes. I hear it can be helpful.”
*****
Rast walked slowly to his desk at the watchhouse. No one met his eyes or said anything as he passed.
The case had been given to someone else. The damned case that had been chewing at his head for months.
Finally.
That was one way of looking at it.
Another was enforced early retirement. On half pension.
He felt relieved in many ways.
At least she’d given him that much. The chief could just have thrown him out and no one would have argued with her. Or could have argued with her. His captain certainly hadn’t. Probably just glad not to have been given the heave himself. That or the bastard had laid all the blame on him to cover his arse. And the captain was far from visible now. Probably hiding in case the chief changed her mind and got rid of him too.
It didn’t matter now though; there were no takebacks as far as the Thieftaker was concerned. She was unhappy with progress on the case so fur flew. He wondered if someone had been pushing her for progress. It seemed unlikely. Few people had much influence or leverage on her.
Not that there was much progress to be had on the case though. The man was a fucking ghost. He didn’t subscribe to the theories that it was a woman. All the victims had been men so far, it was true. But there was no link between them that anyone could find, despite months of exhaustive researching. And frankly he’d never come across a woman that scorned.
Though, if he tried, he could think of one woman capable. Maybe the Thieftaker herself was doing it to get rid of her enemies. Or maybe she was just insane. She was certainly frightening enough.
He swallowed those thoughts and looked around guiltily. She had ways of knowing things. Things she really shouldn’t have. She probably had spies everywhere.
But still, even now as he cleared his things no one looked at him. She’d inspired that much fear, having come down here in person.
Perhaps she was a witch.
He swallowed that thought quickly too. Though if she was that probably wouldn’t help.
He looked around at the place. He was really too young to be ‘retiring’, but he’d been here some time. It was like a second home. And somewhere he felt like maybe he�
�d been making a difference.
Until this bloody case. And bloody was the right word.
He felt sorry for the poor sod who’d inherited the case from him. They were more than welcome to it. But they didn’t deserve it.
Whoever it was, they were going to be on a hiding to nothing. There was little chance of it being solved unless the killer got really sloppy. That chewed a little at Rast but it was far outweighed by the relief that it was now someone else’s problem. Far, far outweighed.
But still…
“Does anyone know who has been given the Night Walker case?” he said. Not that he was really expecting anyone to reply. They all seemed to be getting a headstart on ignoring him, something watchmen routinely seemed to do to their ex-colleagues. No longer one of them. He’d never much understood it himself. Maybe when you were young you didn’t want to be reminded of what you might become.
“Sergeant Elena,” came a voice from nearby. There was more than a hint of triumph in the voice.
Rast choked back a laugh. He supposed he should have seen that one coming. She did get thrown a lot of the shitty jobs. Though she did actually have a decent record at them. And this was probably the shittiest of the shitty jobs. Nasty, unsolvable and with oversight right from the top.
He didn’t much like Elena, but he still pitied her this. She tried to be good at her job and that thing with her brother was impressive. If stupid. But that was probably why the case had now been given to her.
Just another scapegoat.
Ah well. Good luck to her.
Rast looked at the small pile of stuff he’d kept at the station. It wasn’t much. He chucked it in a bag and looked around. Still ignoring him. Well screw them. They still got to be knee deep in the city’s shit whilst he was now a man of leisure. Well, limited leisure. His early retirement wasn’t that generous. And the city had been getting more expensive of late. Maybe he should move somewhere down south. His wife would probably like that. When the weather broke though. It was starting to get a bit cold for long distance travel.
Speaking of his wife. How was he going to explain all this to her? Would she be pleased that he’d be at home more?
On balance, Rast was.
*****
Pirates. Traders. Pirates… It was an interesting distinction and one Kellan had determined to assess closer than any of his associates had before. Which, he thought grimly to himself, meant getting pretty close.
He was walking through Bastion’s docks, smelling the salt and the cold, watching the boats bobbing up and down, passing grim looking men and women used to weather that could kill you in a moment, and sea creatures who it was rumoured would do the same.
Were there monsters out at sea? Kellan had never been sure, and sailors certainly liked mentioning them. He suspected they were the sort of legends and trappings people maintained for effect.
Some of the people he passed looked at him closely, clearly wondering if he had money, or places on a crew, or wanted to hire a crew, and Kellan didn’t wish to discuss any of these so he kept his face set, which was normally enough to repel attention. Except the barbs of the three people he’d arrived in this city with, they were an interesting group.
Kellan stopped, because a tavern rose before him. It didn’t need a guard on the door because the customers were self-regulating and fights were encouraged, and the walls looked like they would fall down in the next big storm.
He smiled to himself and walked inside, entering a fug of smoke, sweat and people who would terrify the wealthier parts of the city.
Walking to the bar, he ordered a drink, and then turned to where his targets were sat.
They’d taken up a corner table. Four men and one woman, only nine eyes between them, laughing corrosively.
Traders. Pirates.
Kellan walked over. “I’m looking for the skipper.”
The oldest of the men looked at him. “Plenty of skippers round here. Plenty of boats. Plenty of crews. Odd you come to us first.”
Kellan nodded. “There’s only one skipper though,” and he emphasised the word.
“I see. You want me. Why?”
“You had a reputation for acquiring things.”
“Acquiring…”
“Yes. My boss has, too.”
“See lad, acquiring is just a fancy word. Why don’t you say what you mean. Sit down, but say what you mean.”
Grabbing a stool, Kellan sat. “Alright, you were the most feared pirate in the northern seas.”
“I was. Yes, I was. Your boss a pirate then? I know him?”
Kellan smiled. “Her, and not a pirate, but certainly an acquirer.”
“Right, so she stole stuff on land. I stole it at sea. Don’t explain why you’re here. Unless you want me to steal something.”
“Do you still do that?”
“No. None of us do.” And the man leant forward, a crusty white beard dipping into ale spilt on the table. “We trade now. We bring in cargo, we get paid, we go. No ships filled with angry soldiers, a thief taker ordered to accept us. How you say — legitimacy.”
“Makes sense.”
“No it doesn’t, lad. It makes money.”
“Money is sense,” and he was pleased they returned his smile.
“So if you’re looking for someone to steal something…”
“Perhaps.”
“Then it ain’t us.”
“But you import. From the islands?”
“Yeah. Many islands. All got something different.”
“The ruins of a great kingdom, torn asunder by the dead.”
“They ain’t got the dead anymore. They got us.”
“A pirate kingdom … also turned legitimate?”
“You are keen to learn.”
“Yes. Very.”
“Maybe we should pressgang you and take you, then you’d learn.”
“I do wonder what a pirate kingdom is like. How it works, but not that keen.”
“We ain’t got an emperor. Don’t feel left out because of it.”
“Luckily for you the empire is a bit touchy about the dead.”
“Lucky? Lad, the empire can’t conquer pirates, we’d scatter then come back. The emperor needs a system to take. A people to enslave. Not us. Never us.”
Kellan felt his probing had gone well, but perhaps this was time to leave. Maybe just a few more things.
“Anyone in your world still steal?”
“Oh, trying to get us to badmouth someone?” He laughed heartily. “You gotta keep an eye on your cargo. It’ll get delivered, but maybe not by the people who left harbour with it. And if someone tries to trade who’s not, how shall I say, approved, things can get difficult for them.”
“That’s interesting to know.”
“Boss, should have got him to buy us drinks.”
“It’s like I never pay you.”
“Could pay us more.”
“Could toss you overboard and let the shavvers eat you.”
“I’ll get you a round of drinks,” and Kellan waved at their mugs, “providing you order what you’ve been drinking and don’t get fine wine.”
“Fine wine gives me the shits.”
“When you ever had wine?”
“Lots of times. Remember that ship with the fat guy we hanged off the main…”
“Our guest doesn’t need to know that…”
“Oh right, yeah, I, er, fell into some wine one time.”
“Let the ale be my parting gift to you. Please, I insist.”
Kellan rose, having drained his own mug.
“A pleasure then. You, er, got a name? Case I need something on land acquiring?”
“Kellan.”
“You round these parts much?”
“There’s a few things in the works. If they work out I’ll be round these parts a lot more.”
“Aye, well, good luck in your plans. You picked a good city.”
Kellan smiled, and went to the bar to order.
*****
“Still don’t know why Kellan didn’t bring us here himself,” Zedek said.
“He’s messing with us,” Trimas said. “Which is why the password is what it is.”
“Yeah,” Daeholf said smiling. “And why you have to say it.”
“Don’t start,” Trimas said, staring at him.
“Well the shop seems shut. Do we knock?” Zedek said.
“We’ve made enough noise. I’m sure they’re watching,” Daeholf said.
Trimas sighed, walked over and put his mouth next to the boarded door and whispered, “I’m a princess,” through it.
“I don’t think they could have heard you,” Zedek said, face carefully neutral.
Trimas looked around. Daeholf shrugged, trying to suppress a grin and pointing at Zedek.
Trimas turned back to the door. “I’m a princess,” he said more loudly.
They all heard a shuffling from the other side. There was some rattling and the door slowly opened inwards. A tall, broad-shouldered but tired looking man limped out. “So I see,” he said, eyebrow raised.
“You were expecting us?” Trimas said.
“Yes, Kellan gave me your descriptions,” the man said.
“You must be Erik,” Daeholf said, looking the man over. The man nodded.
“Let’s get inside before the rest of the introductions,” Erik said, motioning into the shop before retreating back in there himself. Trimas led the others in before closing the door behind them.
“I assume Kellan isn’t here,” Daeholf said.
“No, he gave me a quick update and then left,” Erik said.
“Shame,” Trimas said. “I was expecting him to be here to witness our entrance.”
“He’s a busy man,” Erik said, shrugging.
“So you must be the butcher then,” Zedek said.
“And you’ll be Zedek, the tall, ah, ‘princess’ will be Trimas and that just leaves you to be Daeholf,” Erik said, indicating the three of them in turn. They nodded.
Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2) Page 7