Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2)

by Harry Leighton

  Suicide. It didn’t seem possible. For her to have taken her own life, the situation must have been truly desperate. Perhaps it was as he’d heard, that she’d been cornered and confronted by her dual identity. Her world had come crashing down just as surely as she had to the street. Would he have done the same if he’d been in her position? It was impossible to say. It was difficult to comprehend the fact that one person had been both Hood and Thieftaker at the same time. Both were such busy and powerful figures. It didn’t seem possible. Oh it had been clear that Hood had access to far more resources than would have been readily apparent but still. The Thieftaker? It would have taken a spectacularly talented person to pull that off. And she had been.

  Hood. Despite himself, he felt a sense of loss. This job didn’t call for sentiment. It was even a disadvantage in many ways but she’d very much been a mentor to him, seen his potential and used it.

  He smoothed back his hair reflexively before leaning forward and lighting the fire. The house had grown cold. He’d been busy recently but fortunately he’d still had time to set the fire. Once it was going, he sat back. As he stared into the fire he tried to gather his thoughts.

  There was this new grief, but there was also a loss of direction. There seemed little point in spying on the Governor now if there was no one to report his information back to.

  What to do?

  Left to its own devices, Hood’s organisation would crumble without him. He’d been a strong leader that had commanded with an iron fist. Or she had as it had turned out. He thought about the people he knew of in the organisation. None of the people she’d had working for her were even remotely capable of picking up the reins and running things. Some of them might try but it would fall apart into in-fighting quickly, he was sure. Violence was a way of life for many of these people. A currency even. Unguided, it wouldn’t take long for their natures to emerge and that would then only end up in them splitting into factions and war on the streets. That was no legacy for the Hood.

  There were also the consequences from outside the organisation to consider too. Without the fearful presence of the Hood there was little to stop groups from outside the city muscling their way in. As it seemed one in particular had already. One that may have been involved in her death, though reporting it to the Governor like that made the possibility unlikely. Regardless, once again it would become a free-for-all for the drugs gangs and whoever else was waiting in the wings. War on the streets was again inevitable.

  What to do then? Could he guide whoever it was that assumed the role? Help them with the intelligence side of the operation? Negotiate the deals? But who to back? It would be easy to choose one candidate only for them to be on the losing side of a gang fight and he end up dead with them even if he wanted no part in any of the fighting. Could he even work for someone else, someone that he didn’t know? That he wouldn’t trust. And more importantly, that wouldn’t trust him? No. He couldn’t. It would be too much of a risk for very little likely reward.

  Perhaps in the end he would be better off abandoning the city. Starting again somewhere else, building up both power and trust slowly and carefully. In many ways it was the sensible choice. But this was his home. He had grown up here, made a life for himself here. He wasn’t willing to abandon the city yet.

  So what to do? Could he pick up the operation himself? It wouldn’t be easy, that was sure. He knew little about instilling the proper respect and fear in the sort of people that wouldn’t think twice about sticking a knife into you if it suited them, the sort of people that made up the bulk of Hood’s organisation. People like Hal, for example.

  He also didn’t know most of them and without the Thieftaker to introduce him, who were they to believe that he should be left in charge? Hal knew who he was though. And if Hal didn’t know that Hood was dead, which seemed unlikely, he may play along and introduce him in that capacity to the others. It would be too late then when he found out.

  It was risky. It would need to be handled carefully. Very carefully. Timing was also critical. It wouldn’t take long for the Hood’s absence to be noticed and for it to appear that something was badly amiss. He needed to be well established before then. That meant there was little time to lose. He extinguished the fire. He needed to move quickly, to get to the warehouse and do what he could. It was possible that it may have been compromised from what he had been able to overhear but there wouldn’t yet have been time for people to regroup and move to another location. That was where he needed to go.

  He wrapped up against the cold and made his way quickly through the streets. The city was abuzz. Though the news had not yet broken, in many ways the people seemed to have sensed that something was up. That may have been due in the most part to the actions of the previous night. It had been a bold move but in retrospect a bad one. If she hadn’t left herself so ill-defended, this may not have happened. Still, there was little point reflecting now on what might have been. He needed all his concentration for what he was going to do. But how to do it? If Hal wasn’t there this could be a bit sticky. He could just march up to the front door and start making demands but that may not go well. He could also sneak in through the little-known back entrance and appear from Hood’s office. Hmm. That might help lend him the initial air of authority that he needed. He made his way round the back and through the secret passage unobserved. He emerged into the office and was surprised to see someone already there, looking around. The heavy-set man turned quickly, holding a knife.

  “Darek. It’s you,” Hal said, lowering the knife.

  “Hood isn’t here yet then?” Darek said. “It doesn’t matter, I’m not due to meet him until later anyway.”

  “If you say so,” Hal said doubtfully.

  “Why were you waiting in the office here?” Darek said.

  “We’ve had a break in,” Hal said. “A group of people attacked whilst we were out last night.”

  “Surely there were guards?” Darek said. “How far did they get?”

  “Yes there were. But they managed to get all the way in here,” Hal said.

  “In here?” Darek said. “That’s madness.”

  “Whoever it was seems to have known the best time to strike. It may have been an inside job,” Hal said, watching for his reaction.

  “That’s troubling,” Darek said calmly. “I doubt it though. I’m not sure anyone would be brave enough to risk Hood’s wrath like that.”

  “You may be right,” Hal said. “What are you doing here then?”

  “Hood said that I would need assistance with calming the storm that last night caused. I’m here for some men,” Darek said.

  “I see,” Hal said. “Who did you have in mind?”

  “I’ll take your advice on that. I think it’s probably time to introduce me too. We didn’t really have time for that last time,” Darek said.

  “Shouldn’t we wait for Hood to do that?” Hal said.

  “He already has. To you,” Darek said firmly.

  “I suppose so,” Hal said.

  “I’ve got a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. Let’s get on with it,” Darek said.

  “This way then,” Hal said.

  *****

  It was a short walk from the warehouse Vika had used as a base to an inn on the waterfront. This dockside watering hole was one of the natural homes of the sailors and the people who worked for merchants but didn’t have the sense of safety their prominent bosses cultivated, and at this moment a series of less prominent and far more recent merchants had begun to gather.

  The heavy door opened, and in walked a bearded, one-eyed man who hadn’t been off his ship the whole time it had been moored here unloading and loading, but who now had a reason to talk. He walked across the smoke filled room, caught the eyes of the people he knew, and trusted his followers — literally, as they were behind him — to get the drinks.

  He followed in turn several of the faces he knew, as they stood and walked into a back room.

  Once eight people
were inside, the door was closed behind them.

  All bearded, all haggard from the wind and the spray, all with lives spent on boats, they would never smile at each other, but their very presence together betrayed friendship.

  “The old captains together again,” one rasped.

  “The old pirates,” another added, slapping the table.

  “Merchants now,” one said, clearly unhappy.

  “Being a merchant has made us money.”

  “Money isn’t everything.”

  “Being a merchant has kept us alive. And I’ve still got a working eye.”

  “Is life worth it when I’m this bored?”

  “Oh, course you are, bored of not risking a sword through your ribs every time a ship comes near. How did we ever not get bored of that before.”

  “Excitement keeps you alive. I do not get excited over the cost of, oh, whatever the fuck I shipped in yesterday.”

  “Perhaps if you paid attention to what that was?”

  “Yeah, nuts or some shit, that’ll get the blood up.”

  The oldest man, quiet so far, now joined in. “How any one man who sails the oceans of the north can complain about being bored I do not know.”

  “I didn’t mean…”

  “If you are bored, it is not piracy you miss. Go and sail to the lands of ice and find a way through there to whatever is on the other side of this world. That, my friend, will not bore you, and you will soon discover whether you like to be alive.”

  There was now silence, before someone couldn’t resist saying a few words.

  “The people think this city is cold. Fuckers ain’t been near the lands of ice.”

  “Aye. Bastion thinks it is hard, but it’s simply soft. They have no concept of cold.”

  “If we could bring our snows down with us we could conquer this city simply by walking past their frozen forms.”

  The elder did not look happy, and frowned.

  “We need to come to today’s business.”

  “You didn’t just call us here for a friendly round of abuse then?”

  “No. I realise most of you stay away from the citizens of Bastion…”

  “Apart from the whores.”

  “...because they are problematic for us, but … there is some news I want to know how you react to.”

  “Go on.”

  “Thieftaker Vika is dead.”

  “A shame, she looked fuckable.”

  “I’m sure she is looking down pleased her career has been summed up so. Vika is dead, the guard are in chaos, the criminal elements of this city are slowly waking up to having to deal with their master being assassinated…”

  “Someone killed Hood?”

  “I believe so.”

  “That’s not what I heard. I heard Hood crushed a rival.”

  “The precise details are not the point. This city is open, that’s the point.”

  “Ah.”

  The elder watched every man around the table drift into the realm of imagination. “So?”

  “So what?”

  “So what do you think?”

  “They lost a lynchpin, maybe two, this city is going to be, as you say, wide open.”

  “Indeed.”

  “He fucking means, are we going to raid this city or stay as fucking merchants.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well someone tell me one of you is going to fucking do it.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Not first, no. I told you, I honour my oath. Which lasts until one of you fuckers breaks theirs. So. Who?”

  “Well I’m happy being a merchant.”

  “Liar.”

  “I’m content being a merchant. You can go ruin that for the rest of us if you want.”

  “Because you do want it, really.”

  “I would hope,” the elder began, “that we could agree not to get involved with any trouble in Bastion while the city works things out.”

  “Just a little raid?”

  “No.”

  “A practice, keep our eyes in.”

  “No.”

  “Bollocks. So what, we sit and watch like it’s one of their fucking plays?”

  “We are building wealth, contacts, supplies. We do not throw that away because this city ran into a terrible coincidence.”

  A merchant raised an eyebrow, and pondered how long this elder would stay alive. Because without the people who’d overseen maintaining their change, he might be a pirate again soon enough.

  They might all be.

  “Alright. We watch. We leave all the tasty goods where they are.”

  “I am pleased with your decision. Does anyone disagree?”

  *****

  It was amazing the difference a day could make Kellan thought as he sat back in his chair. It was barely a moment ago that he had been on the run, certain he’d been uncovered due to being a bit sloppy and overeager. And now instead here he was, relaxing. He still marvelled at the news. He’d made Daeholf tell him twice, the story was that unbelievable. Somehow in the space of a couple of days, the problem three had gone from borderline defying Karina’s wishes and barely making any effort on following the bribery plan to cleanly taking out the head of the local underworld — the opposition. Well, cleanly...ish. Nothing that would come back to them or him from the look of it. Perhaps they were deserving of their reputations after all. Though it seemed a shame they didn’t apply themselves more, instead hiding their talents under a veneer of buffoonery. He considered that. Maybe it was better that they didn’t apply themselves if they were that good. Action like this on a regular basis and who knows what the outcome might be. It was an uncomfortable thought. Maybe instead they were the fools that they appeared to be most of the time and just occasionally got lucky. Very lucky.

  No matter. What was important was what happened next. The main plan had been thrown completely sideways by events. What had been intended to be a staged takeover was in danger of unravelling if he didn’t move fast but he wasn’t sure he had the resources available to take the next step. The best he could do might be to hold station as much as possible until he could get some new instructions from Karina. The fact that in the same step as taking out Hood they had also taken out the head of the city’s law enforcement further complicated issues and could make the city more troublesome in the near future.

  He started framing a letter but this time he struggled for the right words.

  Karina,

  Things have been a little crazy here and it is long past time for an update.

  The news I have is difficult to believe, but our rival is dead.

  It seems our mission has been a complete and utter success, but in an entirely different way than we expected.

  Let me start from the beginning. Our strategy of financing our rival into submission had been working well and Hood was becoming desperate…

  That wouldn’t do. Far too waffly and it wasn’t as if he was going to be able to send a book. He tried again.

  Karina,

  Hood dead unexpectedly, need instructions.

  Kellan.

  Too brief and didn’t cover some rather important information. He tried again.

  Karina,

  Hood is dead, killed unexpectedly by the “three”.

  It turns out Hood was actually an alias and the operation was actually being run by Bastion’s Thieftaker, Lady Vika. This leads to a complication. In taking out the head of the underworld they have also taken out the head of the city’s law enforcement. This leaves the city and our plans in an uncertain state. I will endeavour to maintain our assets in the region but I believe we will need some assistance in the near future.

  Rest assured I have double checked and this information is certain.

  Awaiting your instructions,

  Kellan

  *****

  Daeholf put the plate in his lap, and licked a stray piece of juice off his finger. It was at this point he realised Trimas hadn’t eaten anything and was staring straight t
hrough the opposing wall.

  “Are you alright?” he asked his friend.

  Everyone in the room turned to look, which included Zedek and Elena stick eating, and Trimas who replied, “Sorry?”

  “You, yes you, are you alright?”

  “Fine.”

  “You’re just not eating,” Daeholf pointed out, “for the first time ever.”

  “Ah, yeah, that would be a giveaway.”

  “A normal person would now tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It’s just … have we fucked things up again?”

  “Again?” Elena asked.

  “Yeah, yunno, last time we take a body to the authorities and it all snowballs and we sort of become responsible for a rebellion.”

  “I see.”

  “And this time, we go after a crooked person, take a body to the authorities and … well who knows where this is going.”

  Zedek decided to try and have a crack at banter. “It’s like you’re a genius on the battlefield but a political disaster zone.”

  Trimas looked sheepish. “Alright, that’s going a bit far.”

  Daeholf opened his mouth to speak, but Elena held a finger up. “This time I get to do the talking.”

  “Okay,” Daeholf conceded.

  “I can’t speak for life in this other part of the empire, but you have not fucked things up here. Our governor is a capable man, and he will not let this go out of control.”

  “All governors think they’re capable.”

  “But this one is. There is panic on the streets, but do you know what? He’s already in control. He dressed up Vika’s death as a tragedy instead of corruption, he’s turning her into a heroine. There’ll be a statue and a reward for best guards in her name or some such. There might be riots, but there won’t be rebellion. The right people will be kept loyal.”

  “Keeping peace through medals,” Trimas suggested.

  “You’d know more about that than me.”

  “All you really need to know is it works.”