Daeholf noticed the look. “Falling off a roof is not an experience I’d recommend,” he said. “Fun as it might sound at first.”
“You landed on your face?” Elena said.
“Not quite. Though I gather it did make firm contact with the ground,” Daeholf said. “I can’t say I remember a lot about it though.”
“Did you break anything?” Elena said.
“Just the arrow I think,” Daeholf said.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” Elena said.
“No doubt,” Daeholf said. “Since it seems you called this gathering, what can we do for you, officer?”
“Elena, please,” Elena said.
“Okay, Officer Elena,” Daeholf said.
“Just Elena,” Elena said.
“Interesting,” Daeholf said. “Since you’re not in uniform, I’m guessing this is not an official visit?”
“Not as such, no,” Elena said.
“Didn’t think so,” Trimas said.
“You said you wanted our help?” Zedek said. “Practical help, that is.”
“Yes,” Elena said.
“You’d better start at the beginning then,” Daeholf said.
“You’ve heard of the serial killer in town I assume?” Elena said.
“The Nightwalker, yes,” Trimas said. “The name is on everyone’s lips at the moment.”
“I think that was who shot you on the roof,” Elena said.
“We’d come to that conclusion, yes,” Zedek said.
“The three of you seem tight knit,” Elena said.
“That’s fair,” Trimas said.
“So I assume you’ll be hunting the Nightwalker after what happened,” Elena said.
“Perhaps,” Zedek said.
“We might,” Trimas said. “Would that be something you want to arrest us for?”
“No, of course not,” Elena said.
“Because you don’t want to or you can’t?” Daeholf said, watching for her reaction.
“Ah,” Trimas said, nodding.
Zedek smiled for the first time. “I see,” he said.
Elena’s shoulders slumped. “Am I that obvious?”
“Politics or incompetence?” Trimas said.
Elena bristled at that, giving him an angry look.
“Politics then,” Daeholf said.
“I don’t need this,” Elena said, looking at the door, clearly thinking about leaving.
“You came to us,” Daeholf said politely. “We’re just trying to establish the story.”
“I’m off the case,” Elena said after a moment.
“That was a bit rude of me,” Trimas admitted.
“Tell us what happened,” Daeholf said.
“Please, sit down,” Zedek said, taking their lead.
Elena thought about that for a moment. She needed these people’s help and had to get them on side, at least for a while so she could make use of them. Sitting might make her more vulnerable but it might also make it look as if she wasn’t worried by them. She looked around the room, considering. There was a chair to one side of the bed and a couple of boxes with a blanket over the top at the foot of it. The covered boxes were closer but still far enough from the three of them that she could get out of the way so she perched slightly awkwardly on them. The box creaked slightly as she sat down. As she did she happened to look at Daeholf. There might have been a flash of something in his eyes but if there was, it was gone in a moment and his calm returned.
“The Nightwalker then,” Daeholf said.
“It’s actually kind of your fault,” Elena said. Zedek started at that and Trimas frowned but Daeholf just laughed. The sound wasn’t that healthy.
“I’m sorry my getting shot and falling off the roof dented your career,” he said. “I’ll try to be more careful in future.”
“Sorry,” Elena said. “I suppose I could have put that better.”
“You think?” Trimas said.
“What I mean is, since the killer has changed his method, people are more scared and more heat is coming back on the watch.”
“Changed method?” Zedek said, interested now despite himself.
“Yes, but I’ll get to that. First, cards on the table. I think you’re going to try for the Nightwalker after what happened to you. I’ve been … suspended from the watch for a lack of progress on the case. I still want to get it solved. But I don’t think I can do it by myself.”
“How long were you working on the case?” Daeholf said.
“Not long,” Elena admitted.
“That’s harsh then,” Trimas said.
“Don’t get me started,” Elena said.
“You’re thinking that by solving the case you’ll be reinstated?” Zedek said.
“Something like that,” Elena said.
“Do you have a personal stake in this?” Daeholf said.
“No,” Elena said. “But I’m not happy about how things have gone. So maybe, on reflection, perhaps. But not in the way you were suggesting.”
“Fair enough,” Daeholf said.
“You want my rod don’t you?” Zedek said suddenly.
“Excuse me?” Elena said, somewhat alarmed. Trimas burst out laughing. Daeholf chuckled, before holding his chest and grimacing slightly. There was still amusement in his eyes however.
“My Bounty Hunter rod,” Zedek said, puzzled. “My credentials.”
“Ah,” Elena said. “I see what you mean. Yes, it will come in handy.”
“He has a way with words,” Trimas said between laughs.
“Will you two behave?” Zedek said, exasperated. “It’s obvious what I meant.”
Elena looked at the three of them. They were human. Real people. She’d been right to come here. She could probably work with the three of them. For now, anyway. “So, will you help?” she said.
“What’s in it for us?” Trimas said.
Daeholf raised a hand, forestalling her reply. “We need local knowledge,” he said. “We’ve already discussed that,” he added to Trimas.
“You’re showing our hand here,” Trimas said admonishingly.
“We’re not trying to negotiate a deal here,” Daeholf said. “Just a mutually agreeable arrangement to catch someone we both have an interest in.” Elena gave him an interested look. That was an unexpectedly reasonable answer for someone who had nearly been killed. Maybe the fall from the roof had scrambled his brains. Or maybe he was just that pragmatic. Either way, one to watch.
“What are you going to do with him when we catch him?” Zedek said.
“When?” Elena said. “I’d like to think we will, but these things are never sure.”
“When,” Zedek said firmly.
“He’ll be imprisoned. There will be a trial,” Elena said.
“We want him dead,” Trimas said.
“Let me be clear. No offence to you, but there have been a number of high profile victims. The trial will just be for show. We catch him, he gets executed,” Elena said.
Trimas, Zedek and Daeholf exchanged glances. “In which case we have a deal,” Daeholf said.
“What comes now?” Zedek said.
“I’ll go get my copies of the casefiles. We pool our knowledge. And then we go and find a lead. And catch him,” Elena said.
“We need rest,” Trimas said. “Come back in the morning?”
“That suits me,” Elena said.
“I’ll see you out then,” Trimas said, indicating the door.
Elena stood up and nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She moved towards the door, Trimas moved to follow her. She took one last surreptitious glance back. Zedek started to move also but was stopped by a glare from Daeholf. She left the room and Trimas followed, closing the door behind them. As they descended the stairs she could hear voices from the room though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Daeholf didn’t sound happy though. Well they clearly had their secrets. But if she wanted their help, now was not really the time to be looking into them.
*****
“I never remembered it being this cold.” He finished by slamming his tankard down onto the already sticky table.
“You told me it was nice here. Nice you said.”
“It is nice. Just … colder than I thought.”
“Cold? It’s fucking freezing. God would have to thaw his bollocks out, never mind me. Seriously, if I’d known all those tales you told us about your home city and how you’d retire once your times in the legion were up were so much fucking shit I’d have stabbed you myself and left you in a fucking ditch.”
“Bit harsh.”
“I could have stayed in the fucking south, signed up again, earned some more coins, not followed you stupid fucks up here.” This soldier kept his tankard close to him, and he glowered at the ones sat at the table around him.
“I like the cold…” one began.
“Oh fucking hell. I’m going home while it’s still dry. Last night I nearly froze to death, er, what do they call it when you really freeze to death?”
“Literally.”
“Right, I literally nearly froze after getting wet.”
“If you’d bought a fucking cloak or sommat,” one chipped in.
“Oh, right, a cloak. And then walk all the way here to get it.”
The soldier sighed, stood up to his full height, downed his drink and threw the tankard down onto the table.
Behind them all, in the far corner of the inn, a watcher saw the tankard actually bounce off the table and into the hands of a passing server.
No, literally bounce.
The soldier swore in a language no one in Bastion used, and walked out of the inn and into the cold.
The watcher left the drink he had only been nursing, and walked outside too. A quick look left and right, and the soldier’s path was clear, so they fell into a rhythm, both walking swiftly through the city.
Swiftly, but not too steadily. The watcher was fine, straight as a good sword, but the soldier staggered left and right. Not too much, not a walking accident, but slowly veering. People were getting out of his way.
From the south, the watcher thought, where they’d been fighting.
From the south, where the debris of this empire was falling and being crushed in a great war to finally solve — well, he didn’t care.
All the watcher knew was this soldier had travelled all the way up here, and now he was going to die. The finer details were all that had to be arranged.
With any luck the soldier would be boarding somewhere cheap, where the streets were narrow and twisting, because the last thing the killer needed was to get caught. He’d had enough problems already, but managed to stay free, but he knew he wasn’t unstoppable.
The soldier stopped in the street and openly pissed against a building.
When the inhabitants came out with a broom and tried to chase the soldier off, the killer felt he might be left blunted, unfulfilled, that someone else would be doing the killing, but remarkably the soldier swore and moved on.
On, across the city, and off the main streets, down an alley.
The killer now sped up, exceeding the soldier’s movements, and a hand grasped round the handle of a knife.
Not any knife, but one selected especially for this task.
The alley was short, and the soldier was nearing the end, but the killer was within an arm’s reach and could smell the man’s stink.
The knife came out, the killer dived forward, and as a hand grasped a shoulder the knife was used to slice the man’s throat open from behind.
The soldier didn’t lose consciousness at first, he simply felt the great pain in his throat and the hot sensation as blood pumped down his body. As his drunken mind realised what had happened, the killer kicked his knee from behind, sending him sprawling onto the ground.
The killer now dropped down onto the soldier’s back, and all the latter could manage was a gurgle rather than a cry.
It took a few minutes, but soon the soldier was dead and still, and the killer’s brutal work was done.
The killer stood, and held the knife out before him.
A straight blade that was well made.
A handle that fitted his hand perfectly.
An edge that had been expertly produced.
A weapon that would kill anyone, certainly a drunken soldier in a strange town he didn’t even like.
A lovely weapon, one that would need a little repair work now, before it was next used…
Should this one be rested? Should it consider its work done and a new one be promoted into use?
Hmm, that was a thought. Something that required careful consideration.
The body twitched, and the killer flinched… But as the knife was readied for yet another bloody puncture the body stilled. Just that odd thing corpses did.
You think that would be common knowledge given we all died. Some far sooner than others, of course.
The killer produced a rag, and cleaned the knife as best he could, so it could be taken back and properly looked after. Then he looked at the ground.
He’d never taken a memento of killing. Maybe he should. An ear, or a finger, or some piece of jewellery. A possession.
No, he thought to himself as the fear rose.
No, because that was a clue, a tie. If someone found them and linked it together … it would be the end of him. No clues, no mementos, nothing that would lead the guard his way.
Poor fools didn’t appreciate the knives properly. The knives wouldn’t lead them his way, even though, to the right eye, they could.
*****
Zedek stuck his head around the bedroom door and into the room. “Good, you’re awake. She’ll be here soon.”
“Erik okay downstairs?” Daeholf said, carefully moving himself into a sitting position with a grimace.
“He’ll shout if anyone suspicious appears,” Zedek said, coming into the room.
Trimas stood up from the chair, stretching. “How are we going to play this?” he said.
“I thought perhaps I’d stay here, keep out of any fighting for the time being,” Daeholf said smiling.
“I guess that leaves you and me then,” Zedek said to Trimas.
“No offence but as we agreed, you're shithouse with a sword,” Trimas said, continuing to stretch.
“I have your training to thank for that,” Zedek said.
“Ouch,” Daeholf said.
“It wasn't quite what I had in mind anyway,” Zedek said, moving to the bottom of the bed. He shifted the blanket, lifted the lid and reached into the top crate, picking up a spear. “This is more like it.” He twirled the spear experimentally. “Much more like it.”
“Really?” Trimas said, an amused look on his face.
Zedek feinted with the point causing Trimas to step back. Zedek angled the point upwards, following through with an upwards sweep of the butt, landing a solid blow to Trimas’s groin. Trimas doubled over immediately, swearing breathlessly as he tumbled to the floor.
“Really,” Zedek said with a grin.
Daeholf looked on amused from his position in bed. “Why didn't we put a spear in your hands in the battle?”
“It was felt I'd be more useful with a bow.”
Trimas got gingerly to his feet. “Thanks for that,” he said, voice pained. “Point taken. When did you get so good with a spear?”
“Basic training.”
“Basic training?”
“Yes. Keeping an enemy at a distance is a very elf way of fighting. Spear is the preferred combat weapon.”
“Interesting,” Daeholf said. “Good to know if our people are ever at war.”
“Don't even joke about that,” Zedek said seriously.
Trimas adjusted himself carefully. “Did you have to hit me that hard?”
“How many times did you hit me with a stick when we were fencing?”
“Well lots, but…”
“Well now we’re even.”
“We'll see,” Trimas said.
Zedek rais
ed the spear again.
“Okay, okay. Even,” Trimas said.
“Please don't hit me in the groin,” Daeholf said. “I'm in enough pain already.”
“When you're mended then,” Zedek.
“Well that’s something to look forward to,” Daeholf said. “And can you two please move those crates finally? The sergeant might be on our side for the time being but I doubt we’d be able to explain this to her satisfaction.”
“We talked about this last night,” Zedek said. “Where exactly do you propose we put them? Even after his wife left to be with her sister, Erik still refuses to have them in his room.”
“We need to have another word with him about swapping rooms,” Trimas said.
“He’s our host,” Daeholf said.
“That’s easy to say from your comfy position in bed,” Trimas said grumpily.
“Happy to swap lives with you right now if you can find a way,” Daeholf said.
“Um, no thanks,” Trimas said, looking at the battered state of his friend.
“His room isn’t much bigger anyway,” Zedek said. “And there’s still only one bed in there.”
“It’s a bit bigger though,” Trimas said.
“I’ll spoon if you insist,” Daeholf said.
“I’m not sure the bed is strong enough for two of us in there,” Trimas said.
“It depends what you try to do to me,” Daeholf said.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Trimas said. “You’re not my type.”
“Married you mean?” Zedek said. Daeholf and Trimas both looked at him. “What, am I not allowed to join in?” he added.
Daeholf grinned. Trimas sighed. “Unappreciated,” he muttered.
“The crates,” Daeholf reminded them.
Trimas looked. “They might fit under the bed. It’ll be tight though. And be like sleeping on a board.”
“Happy to do my bit,” Daeholf said.
Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2) Page 25