Knives of Bastion (An Empire Falls Book 2)

by Harry Leighton

  “A bag of wheat,” Elena replied quietly.

  “A bag of wheat?” Daeholf said, confused.

  Elena looked back at her brother. She shook her head, tears in her eyes once again. “I have to go,” she said, moving to the door.

  “What do we do with him?” Trimas asked, indicating Regis, who was now motionless.

  “I don’t care,” Elena said as she left, lying.

  *****

  “Erik made this sound urgent,” Kellan said.

  “I need your help,” Daeholf said.

  “Again?” Kellan gave him a scathing look. “The money is in the chest under the bed as you well know. Help yourself.”

  “No. Not with money. With that,” Daeholf said, indicating the blanket-wrapped lump in the corner.

  “You’ve killed someone, that’s your problem. Unless you’ve done something daft like killing the Governor, which would still make it your problem,” Kellan said. “Though more so, as we’d be very unhappy with you too.”

  “It’s Elena’s brother,” Daeholf said.

  “She can’t be very happy about that,” Kellan said.

  “It was him or me,” Daeholf said. “He came here to kill me.”

  Kellan eyed him for a moment. “Then you must have really pissed him off,” he said eventually. “I can imagine how though. But why can’t the other pair help you?”

  “They’re out following something up. Besides this is more the sort of thing you’d have expertise in.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ve disposed of bodies before.”

  “Once or twice. This one is different though.”

  “How?”

  “We’re going to need to get it back again.”

  “Okay, now I’m curious.”

  “He needs a proper burial.”

  “So? Do it.”

  “The ground is a bit hard for one, but now’s not the time.”

  “Oh?”

  “Elena needs some time.”

  “No doubt. Away from you probably. She can’t be very happy about what you’ve done.”

  Daeholf sighed. “He was a copycat serial killer. He was following the Nightwalker’s methods,” he said as patiently as he could manage.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “I imagine it’s something you’d need to have been pretty sure about before taking it to Elena. Did she believe you then?”

  “Yes,” Daeholf said with a hint of sadness.

  “So, a copycat. Not the actual Nightwalker?” Kellan said, eyebrow raised.

  “No. There are two killers,” Daeholf said firmly. “Were two killers,” he amended.

  “Convenient. You’re still busy with that then.”

  “Hopefully not for much longer.”

  “Hopefully?”

  “We have a lead. Perhaps a good one.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  “In the meantime, we need somewhere safe to put Regis’s body. Somewhere it won’t be disturbed. And somewhere cold so it won’t go off.”

  “I’m still not seeing how this is my problem.”

  “You owe us.”

  “That’s an interesting way of viewing our arrangement. Others might say I’m your boss,” Kellan said, looking amused.

  “Given that we pretty much broke the underworld here for you, I think you owe us.”

  Kellan frowned. “You were … unexpectedly successful, yes. Okay. I’ll help you. This time. But don’t make a habit of it.”

  “She doesn’t have any more family that wants to kill me so I’m not expecting anything.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way between the three of you to get on the wrong side of someone else.”

  “There’s one other thing…”

  “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to make a habit of this?”

  “Help me on with my armour.”

  “Expecting a particularly bad nightmare?”

  “I’m going out.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “If I can take anything from today it’s that I’m fight capable again.”

  “If you say so. So apart from being your corpse remover and your valet, is there anything else you need from me?”

  “No, that’ll do.” Daeholf picked up his sword and strapped the belt around his waist.

  “You can’t go out with that on,” Kellan said.

  “Actually, if you remember, I can,” Daeholf said, rolling up his left sleeve to show his tattoo.

  “Just try not to fall off a roof this time,” Kellan said.

  *****

  Elena’s mind was fizzing with two conflicting drives, grinding against each other like worn out bone.

  Death. Always death.

  A bag of wheat? What on earth did he mean?

  Her brother was dead and he hated her.

  If you wanted wheat, you’d go and buy it. What could that possibly mean?

  Her brother was dead. Giving her a last mystery as punishment.

  Wheat wasn’t relevant to Regis. Wheat meant something else.

  Her brother was dead, pointing her somewhere. Dead surrounded by his knives.

  Wheat. Knives. Didn’t those gangs have a tattoo on them of that?

  Her brother was dead, like all those soldiers, like the Nightwalker’s…

  Plenty of unused warehouses left by that gang since the smuggling and drugs were stopped. Lying with their stock inside. Somewhere to hide.

  Her brother was dead. Could there be a camaraderie among killers? Could he have given a clue?

  Regis had tried to redeem himself. Regis was sending her … to be killed? Or to kill in turn?

  Her brother was dead.

  They knew where the Nightwalker was, and could move to capture him.

  Her brother was dead.

  The Nightwalker was an elf, and if the public realised this it might cause lynchings all over the place.

  Her brother was dead.

  Vika had been right to conceal the knowledge, and now Elena had to make sure the killer was stopped with similar discretion.

  Her brother was fucking dead.

  She stopped, bent over, hands on her knees. There was neither the time to dwell on that or to delay, because a killer had to be stopped.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as the pain washed over her. Her brother was a killer, had been a killer, was a dead killer and had been killed.

  By Daeholf. Her lover.

  The family centric part of her mind screamed for vengeance, but it was drowned out by the city guard part which knew her brother had it and many more deaths coming. That he would have been hanged had she arrested him first.

  That she had failed him utterly by letting it get this far.

  She stood, gasped for air and forced herself along as the other drive returned to the surface. The Nightwalker was in those warehouses and her friends were going to stop him.

  She just had to make sure this could happen.

  Turning a corner, she saw a guardhouse, squeezed her hands tight and expelled all thoughts of Regis. Now she was a sergeant, now she was going to pull rank.

  A firm, fast walk right inside the blockhouse, the guard on the door not giving her the time of day. All eyes in the room looking up, shakes of heads, and then ignoring her.

  “I need the captain, now,” she called out.

  No one moved.

  Alright, then, let’s do this.

  A moment later her hand banged on the captain's door and she opened it before he could reply.

  “Oh, you,” he replied.

  “I need every guard in the vicinity of the warehouses pulled out now.”

  The sneering regard faltered as the captain considered this.

  “The warehouses?”

  “Yes. They are in the vicinity of this guardhouse. I want an order out now to pull all your men and women out.”

  “Er…”

  “What’s the problem? Pull…”

  “Yes, yes I know what yo
u said. Remove the guard. What I’m struggling with is why…”

  “Why?”

  “Yes. They are warehouses. They need protection.”

  “Obviously.” Your brother is dead, your brother…

  “So why remove the guard?”

  “I am ordering you to do it.”

  “You’re a sergeant, I’m a captain.”

  Elena leaned in. “I was appointed to lead the investigation into the Nightwalker by no less than the Governor. So you do as I tell you or I go file a report to him and get a decree or something to order you!”

  The captain pursed his lips. That might be accurate. It might not be accurate. She was appointed by the Governor, but no one mentioned she outranked the captains.

  But … this was Elena. The troublemaker. The one who enforced the law over the army. There was no doubt she would come marching back here with the Governor’s seal if she had to.

  It was best to avoid things where the Governor was involved, especially if you wanted to be the new thieftaker.

  “Alright, I will write you an order,” and he picked a quill up.

  “Good. Thanks.”

  “I am ordering all guard to withdraw from the warehouse district for … how long?”

  Good question.

  “Until six bells.”

  “Alright, until six bells. I will have runners go and find them all.”

  There wasn’t an all, Elena knew, just a handful.

  “I appreciate it.”

  “If you catch the Nightwalker during this … exercise, I want you to report on my part in this … exercise.”

  “Of course.”

  “And if a warehouse is robbed of all its contents because the guard are absent, I expect you to take full responsibility. The Governor certainly won’t accept any.”

  Just hurry up.

  “Yes,” Elena tried to smile.

  A document was thrust out. “Here you are. Enact it now.”

  Elena snatched it away, walked out and used it to give orders. People began running.

  Then Elena found herself in the guardhouse, facing a choice.

  She had to go and find her friends and tell them what was happening. Tell them the guard were going, wait for the guard to go.

  She should go and see Daeholf.

  Why was the thought of that so painful. He’d killed a killer, was about to stop another. It was everything Elena stood for.

  Why was the thought of seeing Regis’s killer so obviously difficult despite what he’d done.

  She couldn’t close her eyes again. She was in the middle of a guardhouse. So she had to decide on just ignoring what was around her.

  Go and see him or wait here and avoid it. Hope they realised.

  How had that captain looked at her? As the vermin who did everything properly?

  Well she’d stopped doing that recently.

  She would finish this bending of the rules. She would face her lover.

  She would go back.

  *****

  Elena stood in the doorway, looking at the three of them. All clearly tooling up, preparing for trouble. “Can you give me a minute?” she said to Zedek and Trimas. The two of them looked at each other, shrugged and left the room, Elena standing aside to let them pass. She turned back to see Daeholf studying her.

  “You’re armed,” she said after a moment.

  “I’m sorry,” Daeholf said sincerely.

  “Not now,” Elena replied quickly.

  “But…”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Daeholf inclined his head before fiddling with the buckles on his armour again, struggling to get it comfortable. “Doesn’t fit me very well,” he said. “That’s what I get for letting the other two sort it out for me I suppose.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “Where is he?” Elena said eventually, voice a little rough.

  “Safe,” Daeholf said gently, looking her in the eyes.

  “Where?” Elena said, looking away, unable to hold his gaze.

  “Safe. We can get him back when you are ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “To lay him to rest.”

  “I…”

  “You don’t need to think about that now. We have a job to finish.”

  “Ah. Back to business then,” Elena said, straightening her shoulders, face turning expressionless.

  Daeholf looked at her sadly. “That’s not…”

  “We have a job to do,” Elena said firmly.

  “We do,” Daeholf said after a moment.

  “Why are you getting ready for trouble?” Elena said.

  “We think Regis gave us a clue. We’ve been looking into it and we think it relates to one of the drugs gangs.”

  “No. Why are you getting ready for trouble?” she said.

  “I’m coming too.”

  “No. You’re not.”

  “This is my fight.”

  “You’re hurt. Barely walking. Last time, fully fit, you nearly died.”

  Daeholf rapped his knuckles on his breastplate. “This time I’m prepared.”

  “You’re not ready.”

  “It’s been a shitty few hours, for you most of all, but if I’ve learned anything it’s that I’m mobile and active again. I’m not sitting this one out.”

  “You’ve done it before.”

  “I can’t do it again. I’m not letting you go into danger without me,” Daeholf said. “Any of you,” he added quickly as she raised an eyebrow.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes,” Daeholf said firmly.

  “And if I say no?”

  “Then we’ll try to do this without you.”

  Elena started at that. “How?” she said after a moment.

  “You know where he is don’t you?” Daeholf said, deflecting.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I think the clue meant more to you. I think you’ve been looking it up.”

  “You think you know me?”

  “As far as work goes, yes.”

  Elena looked at him hard for a long moment. “I know where he is,” she admitted.

  “Then let’s do this.”

  *****

  The group were walking down a deserted street, all pretence of investigation gone. All held their weapons, from Daeholf’s sword to Zedek’s spear, and it appeared that when the guard had rushed out the people had gone with them.

  Not exactly a surprise then, but if you were hiding inside one of the warehouses … well you wouldn’t know.

  A street led away from them to the left, and slightly down there…

  “So we’re sure this is the location,” Zedek asked.

  “Nope.”

  “We are somewhat confident this is the location?”

  “Yes.”

  “That will have to do.”

  Daeholf nodded. “If you’re unsure…”

  “About?”

  “This. Tracking and stopping an elf.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  Trimas and Daeholf didn’t move their heads but they did mentally exchange a telling glance about just that.

  The group walked slowly down the street, coming to a building that was dark and lacked even the stamped, repeated footprints of a guard.

  Daeholf looked at the doors closely, and gestured to the others.

  Someone comes and goes, his hands explained, one person. Sneaking.

  Daeholf now rested a hand on the door of a warehouse. Funny thing is, they’re built to be locked up from the outside. If Vesek came in, he might not have barred it inside. Which is very handy indeed.

  Daeholf held a blade up, gesturing to get ready.

  Zedek shot a hand up, waved it. The group nodded and they walked a short distance away.

  “What’s wrong?” Daeholf asked.

  Zedek steeled himself. “Let me go in alone.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I have to go in alone.”
/>   “To do what?”

  “I have to … finish this myself.”

  “Does that mean talk to him? Or let him…”

  “I will not let him escape,” Zedek hissed. “I just need to … see what he is doing.”

  “Risky,” Daeholf concluded.

  “I will not let him escape. But … I need to ask certain things.”

  “What if he won’t talk?”

  “Then I will kill him.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Okay, I trust him,” Trimas weighed in.

  “I’m not saying I don’t…” Daehold stopped. “Alright, go in first.”

  They nodded, walked back to the door, and this time Zedek held the spear point up. Then he put a hand on the door and moved it.

  *****

  Vesek was stood behind an easel, a brush in his hands and a table filled with mixed oils to his right. There was something strange about painting by the light of a single oil lamp, and there was really no need now he’d gone into hiding, but it turned out he liked painting.

  He really liked it. Like killing.

  Vesek smiled and tilted his head to get a different angle. This one was coming along very nicely, it just needed some…

  The sound of the warehouse doors opening slightly.

  Vesek moved swiftly, his head snapping round, his brush being rested and him slipping into the many dark corners of this warehouse. A hand drew his blade as easily as it might run through his hair, and he watched and waited.

  Had his hideout been discovered? Would he have to move? Was this a thief he could take care of?

  All thoughts stopped. His heartbeat nearly followed.

  A figure had stepped out into the edge of the light. A tall man, with long hair covering his ears, a spear in his hands and a sick look on his face. There was absolutely no doubt.

  Vesek knew he was looking at another elf.

  Another elf!

  Finally, here, after all this isolation, there was another elf!

  Vesek gasped and stepped forward from the shadows, the blade by his side, the other hand raised.

  Zedek said a greeting in elven, and saw that after all this time among humans Vesek struggled to adapt to it again. Zedek followed up with “hello”, and finally saw this killer.

  Tall, thin, with ears which had been professionally cut short to appear human.

  “It is good to see a brother after all this time,” and Vesek found himself walking forward to embrace the man.