The warehouse loomed up above them, but the people walking inside were never in any danger. They had been earlier that night, but planning, bribery, murder and more bribery had secured not just their safety, but the eradication of rival gangs from the city.
“Isn’t it a glorious night,” Hood said as the group walked inside the warehouse, and through piles of pallets and boxes.
“We are victorious,” one of the chief heavies replied.
“This city is ours now. There are a few pockets of resistance, but that’s because we haven’t got round to them. We will now.”
“And then peace?” one man asked.
All eyes except those of Hood turned on the treasurer, who shrank back a little defensively from their gaze. It looked like a few would miss violence.
The group had now walked through to the rooms Hood used, but rather than bid them wait outside, the doors to the chamber were flung open and the rest beckoned inside.
The desk stood as it ever did, but now … now there was a chest on it.
Hood walked over, unlocked the chest with a thick key, and began pulling out pouches.
“I have rewards here for all our men,” and a pouch was tossed to a willing recipient. “Make sure all of these are handed out.”
“Very generous.”
“Very generous,” the treasurer repeated, obviously worried.
Hood waved a hand. “We can spare some money to celebrate, can’t we.”
“What will you do with the ship? Sell it?”
It was a good question, and Hood smiled under the cowl. “I wish we could, but it has been promised to the ‘traders’. They will no doubt already have sailed off with it.
“The stores on it were ours,” the treasurer added in shock.
“They won’t be unloaded yet,” a heavy considered.
“It matters not. Let our allies take their share, I have enough for you here.”
“Bad business.”
Hood turned to the treasurer, and drew up to her full height, making the latter shrink. “I employ you for your financial sense. I expect you to be careful with the money. But, tonight, I am ordering you to be happy. Go back to being a penny pincher tomorrow, when it will be welcome.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good.”
Heavies began collecting purses and naming who they would be given to.
Hood surveyed the room, and felt like a good drink would be deserved, a feeling they hadn’t felt for a long while. They weren’t happy with feeling it, and considered giving into it.
But business came first.
“Alright, hurry up and get those purses shifted.”
A heavy, arms full, was getting carried away. “Reckon we should have let that last one go?”
“Our little messenger?”
“Yeah. We could have gutted him too.”
“I see, so you believe making them all into a bonfire would be a better warning?”
“Yeah,” he said, face beaming.
“That is why I am in charge. Because I know there is a city guard in Bastion, a fully functioning city guard who, while unhappy with the docks, would recognise a full-on conflagration. The message we have sent is clear. Besides, that fool won’t live long once word he’s failed gets out.” Hood paused and considered. “Speaking of getting out, take that money and leave me.”
They were only too happy to, and so the purses were taken, and everyone left.
Hood was alone in the room, and the black cowl was pulled back, enabling the person inside to see with their own eyes, without the gauze that masked them.
It was strange to see this part of the building like that, they stayed covered always.
Always.
They sat at their desk, leaned back. Tonight was a celebration. Tonight they had won. This city was theirs and wo…
Someone knocked on the door, so Hood replaced the cowl and called them in.
The Treasurer’s head appeared round. “Sorry to trouble you.”
“Come in, come over.”
Hood stayed leaning, and the new man reached the desk. “I thought I’d start work on settling tonight, if I could have the ledger.”
It was on the desk between them, and Hood waved at it. “Of course.”
The treasurer picked the ledger up, but something else was in his hand. Once on top of the book, but now hanging down.
A long red hair.
“Whose is that?” the treasurer asked.
Hood slowly stood. They had removed their cowl in this room, they had broken protocol, and the hair had given her away.
Hood pulled her hood back, and the treasurer's mouth dropped open.
“Thieftaker … how did you get in here?”
Vika looked at the man. A loyal servant, who had helped her run this underworld without once trying to discover who Hood was.
And now he had to die.
“I won’t tell anyone, I won’t, I won’t tell…”
His nerve failed at the look on her face and he turned and ran. She snatched a dagger from her belt, used the stool to launch her up and leaped over the desk, crashing into him and bringing him down with her on top of him.
With her dagger deep in his back, up and where a lung would be.
The man struggled, breath ragged, and Vika pulled the dagger out and stabbed up and deep where his heart would be, holding him down as he died.
Die he did.
Vika stood back up and listened. No footfalls, no one coming running. Everyone had gone, so no one suspected.
She wiped the dagger off on the dead man’s trousers, found the errant hair still gripped in his hands, and concealed it in her pockets. Then she pulled the hood back over.
Never again would she remove it in this warehouse, or anywhere less than absolutely secure.
But now she had to get this body removed, and she’d need to recruit a new treasurer.
Her gaze wandered to the corpse. He’d been a good, loyal man. You didn’t get many of those in the underworld. This day had gone wrong right at the very end.
*****
Trimas lunged as Daeholf fell but he was agonisingly out of reach and disappeared out of view into the darkness.
Shit. ShitShitSHIT.
There was a heavy thump.
This was bad.
And the archer was vanishing into the night.
The roof was treacherous but he scampered to the edge as fast as he could and looked down. He could see nothing.
“See where he goes,” he said to Zedek, waving vaguely in the direction of the fleeing archer. Without looking back, he grabbed the edge of the roof and swung himself over, dangling above the street before dropping down.
It was a long way down, far further than he remembered. It seemed to take an eternity to reach the ground. That couldn’t be good. A fall from that distance. The street squelched under his boots as he landed, tucking and rolling to absorb the impact.
It was muddy. That might be good. It wasn’t cold enough for the ground to have frozen. Maybe that had softened the fall. And maybe the arrow hadn’t hit somewhere as vital as it had appeared. Or maybe it hadn’t gone that deep. Maybe.
He got up. He looked.
Daeholf was face down, not far away.
Limp.
Immobile.
Maybe that helped. If he’d been like that when he fell, it might be like falling drunk. You did yourself less damage.
If only he could believe that.
After all the madness and battles, it couldn’t be like this. Wars, sieges and a mad mage. All survived. Then an arrow in the night and a fall.
He rushed to his friend’s side. He reached out to check but as he did there was a thump behind him. He looked around quickly, hand on weapon, expecting trouble.
“What the fuck Zedek,” he said.
“Is he alive?” Zedek said, rushing over.
“I don’t… The archer?” Trimas said.
“This is more important,” Zedek said, moving to his side. “And
no time to argue,” he added when he saw the look on Trimas’s face.
Trimas squatted and carefully rolled his friend over. He was limp, unresisting and made no sound. A broken stub of the arrow shaft was still sticking from his chest, the rest shattered in the mud.
Daeholf’s tunic was a mess.
“Veklaf,” Zedek said.
“He’s bleeding,” Trimas said, looking closely and probing carefully with his fingers. There was hope in his voice.
“Bleeding?” Zedek said, confused.
“Bleeding. He’s still bleeding. He’s still alive.” He moved close to Daeholf’s face. “Still breathing. Faintly.”
Zedek muttered something unintelligible that might have been a prayer.
“Stay with us princess,” Trimas said to the prone Daeholf.
“What do we do?” Zedek said.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re a soldier. You’ve seen this. Come on. You know what to do.”
“Causing this rather than fixing it is my area.”
“Think.”
Trimas flashed back to all the battlefields he’d been on and injuries he’d seen. Dragging downed allies to the nearest sawbones. More often than not watching them die. Sometimes slowly. Not this time.
“We can’t leave the arrow in him. We need to get it out. He’ll die a nasty death as it turns bad,” he said after an uncomfortable silence.
“If this doesn’t kill him outright.”
“He’s not dead yet.”
“So how do we get it out? Without killing him.”
“We need to pull it. Or maybe push it the rest of the way through if the tip is close to his back.”
“We don’t know what we’re doing, do we? What we’re dealing with.”
“No. Not really.”
“The state he’s in, we killed the only man we knew who could do this safely.”
"I don't think he'd have wanted to wake up with a third arm though."
"You have a point. Though we still don't know what to do."
"No.”
“And we’re talking whilst he’s bleeding,” Zedek said, frustrated.
"So what do you suggest?" Trimas said, staring at him.
"Like you said, we need to get the arrow out of him."
"Obviously. But neither of us has the skill."
"Karina would know someone good."
"She's a long way from here."
"But Kellan isn't."
"We've not seen him for days. We've no idea where he is."
"What about that watchwoman?"
"She arrested us. We’re not exactly on good terms."
"We were being difficult."
"That's as may be. But we’ve also got no idea how to get in touch other than running around upsetting shopkeepers."
“I don’t know then.”
"I might. I think I have an idea," Trimas said with a frown.
"Go on," Zedek said.
"You're not going to like it."
"We don’t have much choice."
"We're staying above a butcher's shop..."
"You're not suggesting..."
"The butcher is pretty handy with a knife. And on a crude level, we are basically meat.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“No.”
“Then hold something on the wound whilst we move him and hope that the fall didn’t break anything we’re going to make worse by doing so."
*****
Elena knocked on the door. Maybe it would just be a progress report he wanted. She doubted it somehow.
“Come in,” came a voice from the other side. Somewhat reluctantly, Elena opened the door and entered the Captain’s office, closing it behind her. No sense in the rest of the station hearing any sort of dressing down she might be about to get. Though doubtless they would find out about it later anyway. Not that it would exactly do her reputation any more harm, but she would rather do without the comments.
“So there’s been another one.”
“Yes, Captain,” Elena said politely.
“An important one.”
“Yes. Unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately? One of the city’s executioners is dead. Executed.”
“Indeed. I’ve examined the body.”
“You think this is funny?”
“No. Not at all sir. The sooner this killer is caught the better.”
“Exactly. Another high profile killing. And the Thieftaker herself is observing the case. This isn’t looking good.”
“I know what happened to Rast, sir. I know my job is on the line here.”
“Yes, your job. That’s what I was referring to,” the Captain said hurriedly.
Elena wisely remained silent.
“Do you at least have any leads?” the Captain said after the awkward pause.
“I have a number of theories and a piece of physical evidence,” Elena said, putting the best spin on it she could.
“Suspects?”
“I’m working on a profile.”
“Working on a profile.”
“Yes sir.”
“So no witnesses. No suspects. And little evidence.”
“We have something new sir.”
“This had better be good.”
“Our killer is now using a bow, using it to disable his victims from distance before gutting them. From the angle, I think the shot was taken from a roof or a window.”
“A bow. From a roof or a window. How does this help us?”
“It indicates that our killer is also a skilled archer. That will help with the investigation.”
“Perhaps. A bow though? Are you sure it is the same killer?”
“Yes. Very.”
“Then it’s not good news really is it?”
“I’m not sure I follow, sir.”
“Now we have a killer stalking the rooftops, taking people out when they can’t see it coming. As if people weren’t scared enough about being jumped randomly in an alley by a knife wielding madman.”
“I…”
There was another knock at the door.
“We’ll pick this back up again in a minute,” the Captain said firmly. “Who is it?” he said loudly to the person knocking.
“Messenger. From the Thieftaker,” came the reply.
“Shit,” the Captain said. “Let him in then wait outside,” he said to Elena. “Let’s hope you’ve not brought her wrath down on us.”
“Captain,” Elena said calmly, burying her anger deep inside. She walked to the door, opened it and let the messenger in. The thin man was flushed, clearly having come in a rush. “Please,” she said, motioning him into the room. The man entered.
“Close the door behind you,” the Captain said.
“Yes sir,” Elena said, resisting the temptation to slam it, closing it softly and standing outside, trying to look calm. It was hardly her fault that there had been another murder. How on earth did they expect her to solve it in this short period of time after all the time Rast had on the case? And how could she be blamed for the choice of victim. If indeed it was a choice rather than random. She still harboured some doubts about that.
“...the docks,” came a voice from the other side of the door. Interesting. The Captain’s door wasn’t quite as thick as it looked. Surreptitiously she tried to listen.
“Why … we … involved … the docks?” she made out the Captain saying. “...far away,” he added.
The docks? What was going on? That was outside the usual jurisdiction of this station. Why would the Thieftaker be issuing instructions here about the docks?
"...battle ... gangs. Investigating ... herself."
Some sort of big gang fight had gone down on the docks? And they were being warned off? But why? One or two of the team did live over that way, maybe they’d seen something but that was hardly grounds for starting their own investigation. Though if it had been her, she might have done.
The door opened a
nd she tried to look uninterested, as if there had been nothing heard or to hear. She wasn’t sure if she pulled it off but the messenger paid her little mind as he rushed off, presumably to another station to issue similar baffling instructions.
“Come back in,” the Captain said. Elena looked at him and could see he was frowning.
“Sir,” she said, entering the office again and closing the door behind her, for all the good that did as she now knew.
“You probably overheard that?" the Captain said.
"Something about the docks?" Elena admitted. It wasn't as if she could be in much more trouble and the Captain would doubt her if she played dumb.
“Something serious went down, enough that the Thieftaker is going to investigate it herself. She doesn’t want anyone else getting in the way. And we have a history of people doing that sort of thing here.”
“I’m sure she’ll get to the bottom of it quickly, sir,” Elena said.
"Yes, well it seems at least that the Thieftaker has more on her mind than any failings from your investigation into the Night Walker at the moment.”
“Sir.”
“Well since you seem to be making little useful progress on that, there is one way you can make yourself useful.”
“Captain?” Elena said, frowning.
“It seems a cart was stolen near here a night ago.”
“Sir?” Elena said, confused.
“Yes, no one is actually laying claim to it but we have a couple of witnesses that claim to have seen it. Or heard it. I forget. Strange one. Make yourself useful, go investigate.”
“But the Night Walker case sir?”
“Maybe a few hours away from it will clear your head and give you the time to think of some suspects. Dismissed.”
*****
The darkness was enveloping, and the night str…
No. The darkness has been enveloping, it had been his way of escaping into the safety of obscurity, but as he ran he was overwhelmed with the shock of it being dispelled.
They had seen him. They had wanted to come after him.
After taking the shot, Vesek had seen enough to know the arrow had struck home, and he hadn’t waited for the corpse to slide off the roof. He had instead sprinted as best he could over the rooftops, until he reached a point where he could get onto the ground, and from there disappear into the warren of streets.
Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2) Page 20