Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2)

by Harry Leighton

  “So a legionary archer?”

  “No. Well, look. The legions use archers in a mass block. They are trained to shoot efficiently, and at a large target. One block firing at a block of troopers. Your average legionary archer is not trained for what you described.”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  “Yeah. Because some archers train after hours, and they become good at non-unit work. Then you have the legion’s scouts, who are the opposite: they will fire at individuals, not a mass. They will fire at animals if they need to.”

  “So this Nightwalker … he won’t be your average archer. But he could be a military specialist?”

  “Aye. He could.”

  Wasn’t Daeholf a scout? But she’d come here because she had two questions.

  “Do you know what I’m going to ask now?”

  “Aye to that too. Have I been training anyone who could be the killer, or does anyone practice here the same.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I’ve been thinking on it, since I heard the news. You gotta think on it, even if it’s just how bad for business it would be. And … I honestly don’t know.”

  “Ah.”

  “I’m not saying my clients are harmless, or innocent. Some are neither, but I’m saying no one stands out.”

  “I understand y—”

  “I’m not protecting anyone, miss, I’m not. I’ve been in the military, I’ve seen people under pressure and when they’re bored, I’ve been around level headed people and psychopaths. And I can’t tell if any of my clients are the killer.”

  “I appreciate your candour. I know there’s a tendency to assume killers are frothing monsters, when they’re often just like you or I. What about non military? Would a civilian be that good?”

  “There’s very good civilians, they train for sport and hunting. But … not too many who train here, and this is the only official place in the city.”

  “Hmm. And they’re known to you?”

  “Someone could have trained elsewhere and just be very good by themselves.”

  “We are covering all the bases here aren’t we.”

  “I am afraid we are.

  “Okay. But if you detect anything, any clue at all, please tell me.”

  “I thought I’d tell the guard, yunno?”

  And there was a punch to the stomach, but Elena forced herself to smile and not buckle.

  “Of course, do that first, but … I will tell you where I can be reached and I would appreciate the note. I intend to find this killer”—best keep this cover going—“and collect the bounty.”

  Assuming there was a bounty. She didn’t know, it wasn’t even on the list when you worked for the guard. You were paid your wages. That was how you lived. She needed to know if there was a bounty.

  “I’ll let you know, aye.”

  “Thank you. One last thing…”

  “Sure.”

  “The killer tries to remove his arrows. So the barbs must be a clue, right?”

  “No. Lots of people remove arrows, helps save money.”

  “Money…” Interesting.

  What social class was this killer from? What did the victims tell you about that? No connection, all across. So the killer came from someone you’d expect to travel between the classes.

  So what would that entail?

  “Thanks again,” and she turned to walk away.

  “I could give you some lessons?” he asked hopefully, ever after custom.

  “No, but thanks.” I have some people who would help me with that.

  Someone who crossed the classes…

  *****

  Elena entered the bedroom. Daeholf was laying in the bed, still looking like he’d gone eight rounds with the entire stevedore’s guild. He stirred at the sound.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

  “No, I’m up. Well not up, but I am awake if you see what I mean,” Daeholf said, smiling at her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

  “Your friend said it was okay to come up. He was up to his elbows in a turkey I think. There were feathers everywhere. The butcher didn’t look happy.”

  “We’re still a bit new at this. Learning the ropes.”

  There was a pause as Elena studied him. “How ... how are you?” She laughed slightly at herself, self consciously. “Sorry. Look at you. That’s a silly question.”

  “No. It’s fine. It hurts. But I’m mending slowly.”

  “Good,” Elena said, nodding. “Good to the mending that is. Not the slowly,” she added quickly.

  “Thanks. So what brings you here?”

  “There’s … well, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  “Oh?” Daeholf said, eyebrows raised.

  “It’s kind of important, I’m not sure if you’ll want to answer it.”

  “Please, go ahead.”

  “Um, why does Trimas call you princess?”

  Daeholf laughed. “You really want to know?”

  “Yes. It’s been bugging me.”

  “Basically, he thinks he’s being funny. I’m in bed and he’s doing all the work. Him and Zedek anyway.”

  “But why princess and not prince?”

  “Because of my ladylike bearing no doubt,” Daeholf said, absolutely deadpan.

  Elena couldn’t help laughing. Daeholf smiled. “Humour seems to be a big thing with you three from what I see,” she said after a moment.

  “That’s what helps us get through the day.”

  “What, laugh at your troubles? That sort of thing?”

  “I suppose you could put it that way, yes.”

  “Does it help?” Elena said seriously.

  “We’re still here.”

  “You fell off a roof with an arrow in your chest. How is that funny?”

  “Well, I should have looked where I was going.”

  “That’s a very strange way of looking at things.”

  “Perhaps. But it keeps us going. And believe me, we’ve seen some very strange things. It’s laugh or go mad.”

  “Or go mad and laugh?”

  “Perhaps,” Daeholf conceded. “I’ll have to leave that judgement to others though.”

  “Your head seems reasonably well fixed on at the moment. The fall doesn’t seem to have shaken it too loose from what I can tell.”

  “Thanks. I think. That wasn’t your real question though was it?” he said, looking her in the eye.

  “What do you mean?” Elena said, trying not to shift uncomfortably.

  “You probably were curious about our banter. We’re a bit noisy with it at times. People notice. Sometimes it winds them up. But that wasn’t your question was it?”

  “Well, it was one of my questions,” Elena admitted.

  “Aha. So there are others.”

  “Yes. But I’m not sure how fair it is to press a man in your condition.”

  “I’m okay. Ask.”

  “You’re weak though.”

  “Yeah? Come over here and say that.”

  Elena started at that but she caught his grin. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond. It was a long time since anyone she wasn’t related to had been willing to have a joke with her. A long time. And the first time she’d met the three of them she’d arrested them. All business and antagonism. And here was one of them in front of her, clearly not bearing her any grudge. Maybe these people really were okay. What the hell. “You’re stuck in a bed. It’d be no problem for me to kick your arse.”

  “You’ve got me there,” Daeholf admitted. “So what was your other question? The main question.”

  “When I arrested you…” She paused, trying to find the best way of putting it.

  “Now we’re getting to the heart of it.”

  “You said that you’d have come quietly even if I had been alone.”

  “I did.”

  “Did you mean it?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you’re a soldier.”

  �
��I was. I’m very much not now.”

  “What happened?”

  “That’s a story for another day. But yes, in answer to your question, I would have come quietly.”

  “Why?” Elena said intently.

  “Because I should have. Because we should have.”

  “Do you always do as you’re told?”

  Daeholf laughed. “Definitely not. Only when it’s the right thing to do.”

  “That why you’re out of the army?”

  “No. But like I said, some other time for that.”

  “Fair enough. So what about your friends?”

  “What about them?”

  “You knelt first. And they deferred to you.”

  “Not really.”

  “But you are the leader aren’t you? Despite what you said before.”

  “No.”

  “So why did they kneel too?”

  “Because they agreed that it made sense.”

  “You all came to the same decision independently?” Elena said, looking sceptical.

  “Yeah, kind of. Bit of prompting, but yes. We think a lot alike. We’re a close team.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Elena had an almost wistful look in her eyes.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Daeholf said seriously.

  “It’s only fair.”

  “If I offend you, please feel free to kick my arse.”

  “I will. When you’re better, when it’d be more fun.”

  “A reason to get better if ever I’ve heard one.”

  “Ask your question then.”

  “It’s going to be very intrusive.”

  “Inevitably.”

  “What happened between you and the watch? That made you a pariah amongst them?”

  Elena frowned. Friendly as this conversation was, she really didn’t know the man lying in front of her. And though she was predisposed against soldiers after what had happened to her brother, Daeholf wasn’t making her feel uncomfortable. But she had no real reason to trust him very far yet. Business was ultimately the reason she was here. But it didn’t make any sense to antagonise her new allies either.

  Daeholf raised an eyebrow as he watched her think. “I did say,” he said.

  “You did.”

  “So?”

  “Tell you what, I’ll do you a deal.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You tell me how and why you left the army, and I’ll tell you what happened that darkened my name. The real story, not any rumours that you might pick up.”

  “Well now I’m intrigued. How can I say no to an offer like that. Deal. Though I do have a condition.”

  Elena frowned. “Let’s hear it.”

  “There will need to be beer involved. It’s a bloody maudlin story at my end.”

  “Okay, now I’m intrigued. We have a deal,” she said, smile prominent.

  “Good. Now back to business then, I suppose,” Daeholf said, serious. “I’ve read through your reports, such as you’ve managed to sneak out anyway. I’m inclined to come to a similar conclusion you did. Any pattern if there is one is going to be hard to find. We’ve got a very rough description and a list of victims. And not really a lot more at the moment.”

  “I can’t say I expected any more than that,” Elena said, smile disappearing.

  “Our main clue really is the archer angle. But I’ve seen the arrowhead that came out of me. That in itself doesn’t tell us much. I’ve seen thousands similar. There’s nothing to distinguish it from anything any person on the street would be able to buy from an armourer.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’ve had plenty of experience in this area. So yes.”

  “Damn.”

  “It’s not a complete loss. Zedek did manage to retrieve a bit of the fletching from the street from where I fell on the arrow and broke it.”

  “So?”

  “Goose. Not chicken.”

  “You’re giving me the impression that is significant but I’m not quite getting how.”

  “Our man takes some care over it. Not just buying cheap arrows in bulk. Goose fletching is more expensive. It may have even been something he did himself.”

  “But? I sense there is a ‘but’ coming here.”

  “Yes. You’re right. It is something that a lot of people know how to do. I do for example. Zedek does. Hundreds of people in the city likely do. But maybe it gives us something else to look at.”

  “I probably met a few today as well. Hmm. Geese are common enough which probably makes their feathers pretty easy to come by,” Elena mused. “Every little bit adds together to give us a picture though. And it is something I didn’t know before I came in.”

  “It’s not much. But I’ll keep looking. Speaking of, do you think you can get me the full coroner’s reports? What you have here is just the summaries and it’s not like I’m going to be able to visit him any time soon. Not for any reason I might want to anyway.”

  “Don’t joke about that.”

  “Ah, I’m okay. I’ve had worse.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, perhaps not. But I’m mending. And I need something to keep me occupied. Those reports might be useful.”

  “Getting them might be difficult. Why are they important?”

  “Sadly a fair bit of my life has been spent around the injured or the dead. I know quite a bit about how people end up that way. Maybe there’s something a fresh pair of eyes can pick up that has been missed so far.”

  “Maybe. I’ll see what I can do.”

  *****

  The first thing that Hood noticed as she entered the warehouse was the smell. Her people weren’t always the freshest smelling bunch, but this was taking things too far. Much too far. She could set her sensibilities aside to an extent given the people she was dealing with, but something about that level of unwashed was not something she could ignore.

  “Whichever of you it is that has decided to imitate an open sewer had better be cleaner within the hour or I’ll open them up and see if their insides smell any better,” she stated loudly to the men and women gathered in various positions around the building. All heads turned to look at her. It didn’t really matter what her instructions were. They followed them unless they dared defy her. And none of them had been that brave. Yet, anyway. Her reputation saw to that. And sometimes it helped to give out unexpected instructions. It kept people off balance.

  “It’s a visitor.”

  Hood turned to look at who had spoken. Hal. Since she’d started giving him more assignments, some of the others had started deferring to him a little. That perhaps gave him a bit more confidence to speak.

  “A visitor. Here,” Hood said. She scanned the vicinity. The pile of rags to one side moved. “This had better be good.”

  “Information, Chief,” Hal said, moving closer but giving the stinking person a wide berth.

  “And you let the cesspool in here?”

  “I hear there is a reward. For information,” the pile of rags said, also moving closer.

  “That will do,” Hood said. “I can hear you. And the only reward you’re in danger of receiving at the moment is being thrown into the sea.”

  The beggar stopped moving. Perhaps hurt.

  “Talk,” Hood said.

  “I heard you were looking. For someone.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “The Nightwalker.”

  “You’ve seen them?”

  “Him.”

  “And you know where he is?”

  “No. But I saw him. Up close. Describe him to you maybe. Is there a reward?”

  “That depends on whether you are wasting my time.” Hood looked at the beggar. He didn’t seem fazed. Maybe years on the streets in the cold and wet meant that death might be a release. “Describe him and I’ll decide.”

  “Wore a hood.”

  “So do I. Are you suggesting that I am the Nightwalker?” There was nervous laughter in the background.

  “Medium height but quit
e broad shouldered. Thin. Sort of wiry. Wrapped up all in dark clothes.”

  “You’ve just described what could be about half of the men in the city, just dressed up like they’re trying to hide. That doesn’t help at all. You’d better have more than that.”

  “He had a knife.”

  “We know. The whole city knows. You’re wasting my time. Take him away.” She started walking towards the stairs and her office.

  “But it was special,” the beggar said loudly as people started to approach. “The knife. It might help.”

  Hood paused, despite herself. She held up a hand which stalled the people moving in on the beggar. “Talk.”

  “It was a funny colour. Like it was made from a different metal. Not steel. Copper or bronze maybe.”

  “A bronze knife? That’s what you saw?”

  “Yes. Held it up to threaten me. Couldn’t mistake it. Surely that helps? That was worth it?”

  “Threatened you? Didn’t try to kill you?”

  “I ran away.”

  Hood considered this for a moment. The description of the man was utterly useless. But the knife. It was a new detail. And an unusual one. Perhaps it was something that she could do something with. Who the hell used a bronze knife now? Unless the beggar was lying. But that was a very unusual detail to have invented. She came to a decision.

  “Find him some better clothes. Give him something to eat and a few coins. But chuck a barrel of water over him first. And do it outside.”

  “Chief.”

  Hood walked to the stairs without looking back. It would be dealt with. Besides which, the man sickened her. Oh there were plenty of homeless in the city, though the number would thin out when the winter stopped being unseasonably warm. But these were people she had little reason to deal with. She had never been there herself, thank the heavens. Sure she’d put a few people there in her capacity as the Thieftaker. But she had no intention of visiting. She could enjoy their discomfort from a distance. And as the Hood, if people got in her way, they got dead. Simple as that. No need to encourage anyone.

  Once in her office, she closed the door but it didn't help. She couldn’t get the smell from her nostrils. It was a peculiar kind of persistent stink that people sometimes had. There was a cup and a flask of wine in the desk. Normally it was bad practise, but sometimes the occasion called for it. She sat down and pulled it out and poured generously. Holding it in front of her nose, she took a deep breath. That helped. A bit anyway.