She threw a few hooks into the bag. Jabs were all well and good but they were rarely a one-punch fight finisher and that’s really what you wanted with the unexpected strike. She put a bit more into these, really making the bag move. She grinned. No one that had been on the receiving end of a clean hook from her had been happy about it. She threw a few more, really getting into it.
Working out also gave her a chance to clear her mind. There was a lot going on at the moment. She had fingers in more things than ever before and keeping control of everything made her head spin a little at times. A little time focusing on something she was in complete control of helped to keep things in order.
As she settled into her workout, some thoughts started to intrude and break her concentration. Things were proceeding in Bastion faster than she had been expecting. It had clearly been a good idea to send the three heavies up to deal with issues that her agent had been facing, but it was apparent that there was a lot going on in the city and it had been time to move plans up so it was handy to have some effective muscle on site. It was rather unfortunate that one of them had been hurt, but according to Kellan’s reports he seemed to be on the mend and would probably be up and about in some capacity in a couple of weeks. That in itself had caused something of a problem however, beyond the obvious. All three of them were now obsessed with catching his attacker. Whilst she didn’t mind them having hobbies, this person was clearly dangerous — he’d already taken one of them down after all. She didn’t have any more similar people close by to take their places if they were killed.
She pulled herself up short at that, standing motionless in front of the punchbag. It was a hard way to think about these three, just as assets on the field. They had been friends and allies of one of her oldest and most trusted companions after all. And, as it happened, her newest and probably most useful friend too. They had also done her a major favour in taking down Marlen.
She felt guilty about manipulating them. Not only were they friends by association, they also seemed like good people who had got mixed up in a bad situation. Whilst she had done them a favour by getting them well clear of the events of the failed rebellion, it hadn’t really been fair to throw them into her schemes the way she had. And despite all that, though they were somewhat wilful, they seemed to be pulling in the right direction with a little guidance.
She sighed. That was where the hard decisions had to come in. Whilst she didn’t like using friends like this, sometimes it was necessary. And usually the less they knew about it the better, both for her protection and theirs. It wasn’t all bad though. Or wouldn’t be. Kellan was managing them well, and if the opportunity arose — and they survived all of what may be coming — she’d make it up to them in some way.
Kellan’s reports had been a little concerning though, if not entirely unexpected. There was one head of underworld as they’d feared, one who seemed to have much of the city under control. For now. Things were moving in the right direction now the money was being used to buy off Hood’s customers and suppliers, choking him off without much of a fight. And as long as Hood didn’t find out where the money was coming from her people were safe and he’d be unable to stop it. She trusted Kellan to oversee their operations there and make sure things turned out the way they wanted. She’d trained him well after all.
There was one niggling concern though and that was the weapons trade. Far more were being sold than they had expected and this was a concern — where exactly were they all going? The pirates were taking a lot of them and though they claimed to be transporting them and selling them on for profit, she had her doubts. Once she had control of the city it might be something she looked to ratchet down a little until she had a better idea of exactly what was going on and what they were — or were going to be used for.
She shook herself off. This wasn’t getting the workout done.
“Ahem.”
Karina turned to look at one of her aides who was studying her curiously. Kellan’s stand-in.
“What is it?” she said.
“There’s a messenger for you, mistress.”
“From who?”
“The Magistrate.”
“Again?”
“It would seem so.”
“I’m going to have to talk to this one then.”
“He seems insistent. I think that would be prudent.”
Karina frowned. “Tell me about this messenger.”
“We’ve not seen this one before. He’s young and keen and seems to think quite a lot of himself.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He’s been studying himself in one of the mirrors.”
“Well, I was just about done here anyway. Go back and tell him I’m in my bath and will be some time. I will see him when I am done.”
“He’s demanding to see you now.”
“I see. Have my bath prepared and let slip to him where it is. I have a feeling he might be enterprising and try and interrupt.”
“Are you sure that is wise?”
“You’ve spent too much time with Kellan.”
“He has been training me.”
“All his bad habits it seems. I know what I’m doing. Either he’ll wait which suits me, or he’ll burst in on me whilst I’m bathing. Which also suits me. But make sure there are sufficient salts in the water that whilst he can get a hint of seeing something he shouldn’t, it is only vague and suggestive.”
“I have done this before you know.”
“Are you sure you’re not Kellan in disguise?”
“I take that as a compliment.”
“You have your instructions. Dismissed.”
The man bowed to her and walked off.
Karina stared after him, thinking. This magistrate was starting to become annoying. It was time that she demonstrated just who was in charge in this arrangement. Messing with his staff was just going to be the warm up.
*****
Daeholf leaned back in bed. His chest hurt like a bastard, so he decided to take some enjoyment in his recent discovery.
“So we’re already doing better than the guard then?” he said, looking directly at Elena.
She looked up defensively, saw the smile on his face, then laughed. “Yes, we are doing better than my old employers…”
“Good.”
“There is another way of looking at it,” Zedek added forlornly.
“Go on, ruin our day.”
“Before, we had one killer to catch. Now we have two killers, and no actual clues.”
“Alright, we do have two killers, but that must count as a clue.” Daeholf looked at the documents lying next to him. “Knowing there’s two means we need to re-evaluate everything, and we’ll probably come across something.”
Elena had been seated, but she shot up in excitement. “The victims … we don’t know who killed who, but maybe we couldn’t find a link between the victims because we need to find two links between the victims…”
“Yes, good idea,” and Daeholf held up the paper he’d compiled the names, dates, locations and jobs on.
“Last night was a drunken soldier, and someone considerably up the social scale,” Trimas finished and looked at the way the room was looking back at him. “I do pay attention you know. I do.”
“Soldiers…” Daeholf realised he had something. “On this list there is a magistrate, a priest, an executioner, a load of roles, but only one features more than once, and that is soldiers…”
They all subconsciously tilted their heads as they looked at the paper.
“Soldiers…”
“Soldiers?”
“Soldiers.”
“Can we be sure of this?” Zedek asked, running the deduction down in his mind.
“No,” Elena told him, “we can never be sure because we can’t examine the bodies...”
“Burned, buried and eaten away, rotting,” Trimas said with a little too much relish.
“But,” Elena carried on, “it makes sense. There could very well
be a connection between the dead soldiers, which leaves the others…”
“A total mess of jobs.”
“So maybe there is a link in there too.”
“Killing soldiers,” Trimas said, crossing his arms. “This Nightwalker is getting more and more personal.”
“Except,” Daeholf pointed out, “the killings started before. The Nightwalker is the one killing magistrates and such. The soldier killer is our copycat.”
“Then we need a name for them!” Zedek exclaimed.
“Perhaps put that a little down the list of priorities?”
“Oh, right.”
Elena tapped her fingers on the bedstead. “That tells us something too.”
“Go on.”
“Ignore what the Nightwalker might be like. This second killer isn’t some drunken lout who likes a fight with soldiers. He or she is using the killings as deliberate cover. This is a clever, calculated murderer.”
“Hence the ordered wounds they create.”
“Yes.”
Daeholf smiled. “Whereas the Nightwalker might be less calculated.”
“Also yes.”
They paused, and looked at each other. They had been excited, full of urgent looks and twitching hands, grand gestures and hearts booming with pride.
But realisation had begun to set in.
Hearts sinking, eyes falling.
“We don’t actually have a way forward, do we?” Daeholf concluded out loud.
“No.”
“We have come further than anyone else,” Elena said to rally Daeholf, but even she had to admit, “I’m not sure what we do next. We can’t exactly put all the soldiers under surveillance. We couldn’t even in the guard.”
“Do we warn them?”
“What, Zedek?”
“Can we somehow warn the soldiers someone is after them?”
“A nice idea,” and Trimas meant it, “but there is a horrible combination at work here, of people trained for years to not bow to people being after them and the fact we are, basically, some very untested bounty hunters. There is no way we could make enough soldiers act more warily to justify the time. We need to catch this killer. We can’t speak to every little group of ex-military in every inn and doss house in this city.”
“Stubborn lot.”
“We live for years thinking our own superiors are trying to kill us. No decent veteran is going to start worrying about whatever we call this second killer.”
“In fairness to Zedek,” Daeholf began, “we do need a quicker way of referring to the killer than ‘the second killer’.” He was pleased to see Zedek brighten and nod.
“Any objections to ‘Second’ until we have a placeholder?”
“None Elena.”
“We could go with ‘Arsehole’?”
“Second it is then,” Daeholf confirmed to Trimas. “I think I need to go through these other people and see what link there might be.”
“Good idea.”
“You two can go through the soldiers and see if there’s a particular regiment or something that links them all.”
“Also a good idea.”
Elena smirked. “Son’t I get told what to do?”
“You don’t need orders, you do alright on your own.”
“A compliment…”
“Of course. Don’t get used to it.”
*****
There was a banging on the door.
Regis ignored it. He was busy.
The door thumped again.
He tried to shut it out, concentrating on the knife in front of him, passing it delicately over the strop. He wanted it sharp. It was all part of the procedure. He had the bandages and ointment set out ready. A little cut to ease the day and then he could sleep.
The door thumped again. And again. Whoever was banging on it was very determined that it be answered. Regis sighed. He was tired and really didn’t want this now. Normally Elena would deal with visitors, not that they had that many. He normally just ignored them until they went away. But this one apparently didn’t understand the protocol and Elena was out, probably playing with her new boyfriends or whatever they were. She didn’t talk much about them. Apparently they were helping her with her case but he didn’t see how. It wasn’t as if they’d made any noticeable progress and she always came back from seeing them looking happier in herself, though there wasn’t much in either of their lives to be cheerful about at the moment.
Taking one last wistful glance at the knife, he put it down on his bed. The pounding was now continuous. Carry on like that and they wouldn’t need him to answer the door, they’d have it open all by themselves.
He walked up to the door. “Who is it?” he called.
“Open up,” came a hard voice from the other side.
“Who is it?” Regis repeated.
“The watch. Open up.”
Regis had a flash of panic. Why were they here?
“This is the residence of Elena of the watch?” came the voice again.
Ah, they were here for his sister. “She’s not here,” Regis said.
“Are you hiding something?”
“No, not at all.”
“Then open the door.”
Regis swallowed. He didn’t want to provoke a confrontation and from the sound of it they were perfectly capable and willing to smash the door in if he didn’t open it. He unlatched the door. Two burly looking men dressed in watch uniforms were standing outside. He didn’t recognise either of them, though it wasn’t that surprising — he’d done his best to stay away from people in general and the military and pseudo-military in particular. He was only familiar with a couple of his sister’s colleagues and even then not really to speak to.
“She’s not here,” Regis said as confidently as he could manage, though the men in front of him made his skin crawl.
“Go look,” the watchman on the left said to his colleague. The man pushed past Regis into their lodgings.
“Hey,” Regis said.
“We want to be sure she’s not hiding from us,” the remaining watchman said.
“Why would she be?”
“That’s none of your business.”
There was a crashing noise from behind them as the watchman rushed round the lodgings.
“Is this necessary?”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Beyond the obvious armed men forcing their way into my home you mean?”
“My apologies for that. We have a time-sensitive message.”
“I told you, she’s not here.”
“We need to be sure.”
Regis just stared at him, trying to resist the urge to punch the man in the face. The watchman was much bigger he told himself. It would end badly.
“She’s not here,” the second guardsman said, returning. “I did find this though,” he said, holding up Regis’s knife.
Regis looked at what he was holding. His knife. He had a flash of anger. “Give me that back,” he said.
The guardsman tested the edge. He swore. “That’s fucking sharp,” he said.
“That’s my job,” Regis said. “I sharpen things for my cousin, the smith.”
“So what’s with the bandages and the ointment? Why were they next to the knife?”
“Splinter,” Regis said quickly.
“Don’t you have any tweezers?”
“I couldn’t find them so I was improvising.”
The guardsman shrugged and handed Regis the knife. He resisted the temptation to plunge it straight back into the man.
“Do you know where she might be?” the first watchman said to Regis.
“I have no idea. She often goes out for the day. Though usually that was to go to work. She probably isn’t there though since you lot threw her off the force.”
“Yes, well, if you see her, tell her the Thieftaker wants to see her today.”
“I’ll pass it on,” Regis said as he waved at the second man to leave. The two watchmen exchanged a glance before wa
lking off. Regis slammed the door behind them.
...and breathe.
Regis sagged against the door. He hated confrontations even more than he hated most people. Dealing with people in authority was the worst of that. He looked down at the knife. This was going to take more than just the one cut to get him level again.
No.
Not this time.
He was proud of himself. He was strong. Look at what he’d just accomplished.
He walked back to his room and put the knife back in its sheath carefully before placing it back on the table. Not so long ago, that much contact with strangers would have broken him, had him curled up in a ball. And here he was, holding a rational conversation against armed men that had practically broken in. He’d even fashioned a believable lie, right on the spot. They had suspected nothing.
It had taken a lot out of him though. He sat on the bed, trembling. He looked at the knife on the table. Maybe he could just...
No.
Be strong.
He lay back on the bed and tried to calm himself by controlling his breathing. It helped a little. Slowly he started to relax. He regretted the recent friction with Elena and hoped she’d be home soon. Though they argued, he found her strength comforting and something to hold on to. Why did the watch want her though? It clearly hadn’t been to give her job back. Maybe it was about the case. Wanted to find out what she knew? She wouldn’t tell them anything, he was sure. Not until they reinstated her.
The watch? Fuck them.
*****
“Hello again,” Elena said from the door.
“Am I pleased to see you,” Daeholf said, turning to face her.
“Perhaps I should come back later then?” Elena said, looking carefully at the covers over the middle of his body.
Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2) Page 34