Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2)

by Harry Leighton

  “Our contact wasn’t there,” Hal said reluctantly.

  Hood growled. “The watch?” she said, glancing round her office in frustration.

  “No, we kept a good lookout after recent events and there was no sign of any of them. We were very careful.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I even had someone watching along the route our contact was supposed to be coming from too, no sign of the watch hiding there either.”

  “Who told you to do that?”

  “I, ah, it was my idea. For safety.”

  “You used your own initiative?”

  “Um, yes.”

  “Any chance our contact could have seen your spy and been warned off?”

  “It’s possible but I doubt it. She’s very good at hiding.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Thinking can be dangerous. But in this instance you were right. Something does seem to be going on and we need to be alert.”

  “Ah, thanks boss.”

  “So the contact just didn’t turn up?”

  “No. We waited an extra hour to be sure in case they were delayed, but nothing.”

  “That was a risk.”

  “City has been busy with the festival.”

  “Indeed. So where are the weapons now?”

  “Back downstairs, waiting for your orders.”

  “Okay. Dismiss the men for the night.”

  “Will do boss.”

  “I have another job for you though.”

  “You want me to go looking for our buyer? See what happened to him?”

  “You’re catching on fast. But don’t go too far. You know what happens to my rivals.”

  “Yes boss. Of course. I’ll get right on it,” Hal said, backing off and hurrying out.

  This was a worrying development. Either the buyer was out of action or not interested in business anymore. The latter of those two possibilities was the most worrying. She’d come to expect and rely on a certain consistency among her customers. Oh, they were criminals in their own right and completely untrustworthy but you could rely on them to act in their own best interests. Which, in this town, meant dealing with her. Both for goods, and their own safety. Either this person had got out of the game, which was unlikely, or he’d found another supplier. Perhaps Darek would have more information. She’d been unable to do much investigating herself due to her duties as the Thieftaker over the holiday. So many official engagements that it made her head spin. And then no time to rest as she had to keep her underworld business in line.

  Hood found herself nodding at her desk. That wouldn’t do. If she’d been inclined that way there were a number of stimulants that had until recently been available on the streets. Now would really have been the time. But she couldn’t abide the drugs and the effects they had on people. She’d have to tough this one out through good old fashioned endurance and adrenaline. Perhaps a little workout might help to keep her alert...

  There was a scraping at the room’s second door.

  “You’re late,” Hood said, sitting back down.

  “It was more difficult to get away without being spotted than I expected,” Darek said, ducking his way into the room.

  “You’re supposed to be a professional.”

  “Indeed I am. But the Governor runs a tight ship. Or he does now anyway, after what happened to my predecessor.”

  “So we’re not going to get as much out of this as we hoped?”

  “He’s a careful man but I think I’m starting to make progress. I think I’ve got the measure of him.”

  “So soon?”

  “I’ve talked a lot to the rest of his staff, sounded them out on the premise of not wanting to disappoint him as this is a big opportunity for me etcetera.”

  “That’s all well and good but there were too many ‘thinks’ in your previous statement for my liking.” No one liked hood using that tone of voice.

  “He’s brighter than we expected. Possibly even a little suspicious of me. It doesn’t seem that he was appointed here because he was good at sucking the Emperor off or whatever, but on talent instead.”

  “What a colourful image.” It was a verbal sigh from hood.

  “I try my best.”

  “We’ve not seen a lot of his talent so far though.”

  “The city is doing pretty well…”

  “Mostly thanks to us.”

  “As you say.”

  “Speaking of doing well…”

  “What have you found?”

  “Nothing from the Governor so far, he’s annoyingly clean as far as I can tell. But he’s been keeping an eye on things in the city too, and it seems as if he’s also picked up on the new player in town.”

  “Interesting. I didn’t have him pegged as that clever.”

  “You really have something against him don’t you?”

  Hood laughed, “He’s everything we’re not. Noble family, over-privileged and the face of Imperial rule and law.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  “Where is he getting his information? We’ve been drawing a blank on this so far.”

  “He talks to a number of the higher ranking merchants. I’m not supposed to be listening to these conversations but it’s not too difficult to get close and overhear a few things as long as I’m careful.”

  “So?”

  “They’ve been talking about someone new. Someone with money.”

  “Whoever this is is taking a new approach then.”

  “Yes. And this could be a problem for us.”

  “We’ll find them. And deal with them. But the first thing is more information. See what more you can find out. But keep your head down. We don’t want the Governor getting any more suspicious of you.”

  *****

  Imperial generals tended to be publicly against bribery.

  When you’re commanding a force of the most militarily accomplished men and women in the known world you have to put their prowess front and centre, which meant being seen to march your legions to the enemy, crushing them under your blades and boots, and generally redistributing the local wealth. What you were not meant to publicise was marching there, paying some ne’er-do-wells to open a gate, and sneaking in.

  That was not the way to have the capital cheering your name.

  Of course, this meant imperial generals were intimately acquainted with bribery, because it was so damn useful. Open the gate indeed, lead us along the right pass, lead your wing the other way, money was such a useful lubricant to military success that everyone knew about it, they just couldn’t say out loud they knew about it.

  Most generals wanted the capital cheering their name.

  Trimas had experienced that, but remained hesitant about bribery. Perhaps if he’d accepted it more wholeheartedly he’d still be playing politics in the capital and not walking through Bastion on a mission to do just the thing he’d once avoided.

  He had a traveller’s cloak around him, partly to hide the sword at his side because then you looked like a man hiding a sword, and mainly to hide the coin purse.

  It was a risk, sending one man off with this money, but not the usual risk Kellan faced, that the money would go missing. He was content with the conclusion Trimas and his two friends were actually loyal and honest, and slightly concerned he was dealing with people genuinely like that. No, the problem was he might get mugged by chance, hence the sword and the fact they’d given the purse to Trimas rather than Zedek.

  “What do you mean he’s more imposing?” Zedek had said, feeling slightly hurt.

  Kellan had turned to Daeholf, who gave an ‘it’s your problem’ shrug and left him to explain, and then Trimas had been packed off with the money, with the directions, and with the time.

  Arrive by the time the sun had set.

  Sit at the table opposite the door.

  Await a man with a red beard.

  So, Trimas turned a corner and saw the inn and shook his head slightly at going alone into a
building set back from passing trade. This was a specialist inn for specialist people, and if the head of the underworld didn’t turn up every so often to check the piles of corpses in the cellar then he’d lose a bet for being too cynical.

  But the sun was setting, people were lighting lamps and torches, and he was on time. That was a start.

  He opened the door and stepped into a fog that began to hook into his lungs. If he was able to walk out of here in a straight line it would be a good night, another reason why he was here and not the tall, thin one.

  As he stepped inside he managed not to cough, which was a small victory of self worth, and he noticed the table opposite the door was clear.

  No other tables, just that one.

  So, a business desk in the form of a beer-stained piece of dodgy wood on legs. Fair enough, but first a drink.

  The woman behind the bar had started pouring a drink the moment Trimas had come in through the door, and now she slammed it onto the bar.

  “Don’t I get a choice?” Trimas asked, as he handed a coin over from a pocket far from the coin purse.

  “Not newcomers, no.”

  Which, he had to admit, was a new way to run an inn to him.

  He went back over to the free table, sat down, and felt every eye boring into him.

  Turned out that feeling was the same as the first time you have to march people around a parade ground, the same feeling that you were a newcomer not worthy of these soldiers hate, let alone like.

  Sat here, with an ale he wasn’t going to drink, sticking out like a bare arse. Marvellous Kellan, marvellous.

  Oh fuck it, he wasn’t going to be poisoned was he, and he raised the tankard, which was when he realised someone had carved something on the inside.

  ‘Out Back.’

  Ah. The table out the front was for filtering. The clientele were probably for murdering anyone left on the table. He’d been told the real place.

  He downed the tankard, stood, left through the front door and then slipped down a side passage, past where the barrels were pushed down, and came out into a yard.

  Three men were standing in a huddle, talking and spitting on the ground.

  “Evening,” Trimas said as he walked over.

  “You the fella with the money?”

  “You the people I’m supposed to give it to?”

  He knew there was a fourth man, standing just inside the door of the inn, and didn’t need to move to watch as this red bearded newcomer also came into the yard.

  “That’s me.”

  Trimas nodded. You couldn’t do more than follow the instructions. He wasn’t here to investigate who was who.

  That meant opening his cloak and removing the heavy purse.

  “A lot of coin,” the recipient said as he took the bag and hefted it.

  “You’re expensive,” Trimas replied, “like wine and noble women.”

  A calculated risk that last comment, one he’d made judging the faces and poses of the people around him. It would, he was sure, put them at ease.

  And if he was wrong he wouldn’t draw. He would talk.

  “Aye, that’s me, a fine wine. More than you can afford. Go tell your mistress,” and he stressed the word, “that the deal is agreed.”

  Then he smiled at Trimas, and the pair clasped hands.

  “If we ever need a new man, someone like you?”

  “I am employed. But if I ever need a new mistress…”

  The men all roared with laughter.

  Money could do that.

  *****

  “Zedek, when I said to go out and gather me information for a report, I didn’t expect you to write it in perfect imperial chancellery script.”

  Daeholf was looking at a piece of parchment with an ordered, scrupulous piece of text on it, which probably had rulers involved.

  “I like to make sure the information arrives clearly,” he said, slightly wounded.

  “Yeah, remind me to make sure Trimas helps next time, it’ll be done quicker.”

  “But not as clear!”

  Daeholf looked up from the document and realised he had ruffled his friend. They hadn’t operated as a pair much before, and clearly this intense side of Zedek could get out of hand.

  “Sorry, it’s appreciated, but it’s for me, Zedek. It’s for me, an old soldier. It’s not for a lawyer or an accountant.”

  “Either of which would strenuously object to our current activities.”

  “There is also that.”

  They heard a door going downstairs, so Zedek turned. “I’ll see if that’s Trimas or Elena.”

  Did he rush off a little bit too quickly?

  But Daeholf was ill in bed, he didn’t have the energy for that now. All his strength had to be focused onto these reports.

  So, Elena had been in quickly after the morning had brought rumours, and the news had been bad: two murders the night of the festival. She had then dashed out to gather information on one, while Zedek was sent to the other.

  Well, as far as Elena knew, Zedek and Trimas were sent, but the latter had to go off on Kellan’s business. Which meant Elena was back promptly with the details, and Daeholf had been made to wait for Zedek who seemed to have returned and written a court order.

  But it was here now, and he was clearly getting frustrated at this bed.

  A second murder, and…

  No, there was a mistake.

  According to Zedek’s report, the second murder wasn’t actually a second murder. It hadn’t taken place later in the evening, it had taken place at basically the same time.

  On the other side of the city.

  Daeholf pulled himself up, winced, ignored it and re-read the documents. Both people had been killed by the Nightwalker, because they had been sliced into pieces. But both people had been killed at the same time.

  Which meant one of two things.

  Daeholf picked up the chair that was to his side, and banged it on the ground until he heard people coming up the stairs. Easy and efficient.

  Trimas came barging in first. “Everything alright?”

  “No.”

  “God, your wounds are bad?”

  He had now come fully in, and Daeholf was pleased to see Elena following Zedek in.

  “Not my wounds.”

  “Then what?”

  “Elena, I have a question for you first. How confident are you in the details you’ve brought in?”

  “Er, you can never be totally confident, but the people I spoke to were nearby and, well, what details?”

  “Time and location.”

  “No doubt about location, and they seemed accurate on time.”

  “Right, right, and Zedek, your writing was crisp, were the people you spoke to?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Right, in that case we have a major problem.”

  Trimas was growing impatient. “Which is?”

  “Both these murders were at the same time, too far apart to be the same killer.”

  “We have two killers…”

  “Yes Elena. We have two killers. I think.”

  Elena began pacing around. “Okay, okay, we have a theory, we have two, how do we prove this? How do we know?”

  “The morgue,” Trimas said. “Boneyard, whatever we call it in this city. The bodies will still be there. We can examine the bodies.”

  “Imperial law would let a bounty hunter in to look,” Zedek confirmed.

  “Forget that, the coroner likes me,” Elena said. “I can get us straight in.”

  “Right, then you three go and see what you can find.”

  They all heard the frustration in his voice, and it was why Trimas and Zedek marched their way through the city in order to get back to Daeholf and report as soon as possible. For her part, Elena was intrigued enough to speed too.

  When they arrived, she knocked on the door, which was tardily opened.

  “Hello, one of my friends returns!”

  “Are we disturbing you?”

&nb
sp; “I am having to discern if the three people fished out of the river by your colleagues were in there because they were drunk or if someone had knocked them unconscious. They literally need their heads examined.”

  He laughed, the others didn’t.

  “Could I ask a favour?”

  “Of course.”

  “We need to look at the bodies of the Nightwalker’s victims…”

  “I have them both, yes I do. In my careful, er, care.”

  “Can we examine them please?”

  “I need to get this report on the heads done. But I’m sure you can do your own investigation. I will be in the next room…” And he turned and walked away.

  Trimas and Zedek exchanged looks, and followed Elena in. Through an ante-room, then into a storeroom with stone walls and recesses within them. As the three could read they soon found the right bodies, and Trimas put them onto stone slabs at the front.

  Zedek picked up a curved tool and began looking.

  “This body shows what we’re looking for in a Nightwalker killing. A cut throat, and then a large amount of wounds inflicted by a blade, the body torn up in a frenzy.”

  “Yep.”

  “And if we look at this body…”

  “It’s exactly the same.”

  “No. No, Trimas, it isn’t!”

  Trimas and Elena took a step closer. “What?”

  “The first body is frenzy, cuts of varying depth and random placement. It is chaos, pure angry chaos, there is no pattern. But this body … look. These are not random wounds, they are spaced. The depths are not different, but equal. Someone is trying to look like the Nightwalker by making the same marks, but they are being clinical. We really do have two killers!”

  “Two people prepared to cut a human into shreds, one a lunatic and the other the sort of lunatic who pretends to be a lunatic.” Trimas shook his head. “I don’t know which one is worse.”

  *****

  Karina launched a left jab into the heavy bag. She followed up with a couple more to warm herself up. Developing a good punch was something she’d worked long and hard on and despite not being a big person it was a useful surprise weapon that had gotten her out of trouble on a number of occasions. Like any weapon, it needed maintenance to keep it at peak effectiveness so this was one of the sessions she tried to fit in at least twice a week to keep her edge. The exercise also had the benefit of keeping her in shape. She was pleased with the way she still looked despite her age and was confident that her regular workout sessions were an important part of that, though if she was honest, Marlen’s actions in the past were probably the main reason. Still, it didn’t hurt to look after herself. She’d have liked to spar a little but Kellan was away and none of the other trusted current staff presented much of a challenge so the bag would have to do.