Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1)

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Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1) Page 20

by Harry Leighton


  “Watching.”

  “Watching me?”

  “In part. Though mostly just keeping an eye out in case of trouble after the last couple of days.”

  “That your idea?”

  “Sort of. Not really.”

  “You been watching all night?”

  “No, shared it with Daeholf. It was his idea to leave the water.”

  “Sensible man, obviously been there before. Where is he?”

  “In my – well, your room.”

  “You two…?”

  “Of course not. Not that it’d be any of your business anyway.”

  “Rarely a good idea in a team on a mission.”

  “You’re a fine one to talk after some of your tales.”

  “I’m a bit wiser now.”

  “Not quite wise enough to stop drinking when you’d had enough though it seems.”

  “I had my reasons.”

  “So you’re going to do the same tonight?”

  “No. You’re right, it was a bad idea.”

  “Talking about it might help.”

  “Not as much as forgetting about it.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “And you’re the boss.”

  “Good of you to notice. Did we agree on a plan last night? It’s a bit hazy at the moment.”

  “We follow the healer.”

  “Ah. Yes. Okay, wake the others then. There’s no point in just me being miserable and an early start is a good idea.”

  “Okay,” Alia said, getting up. “What are you going to do?”

  “I was thinking about throwing up.”

  *****

  Daeholf guided his horse over to Jonas as they rode along the road. “How you feeling this morning?”

  “Been worse,” Jonas said, slumped slightly in the saddle.

  “It doesn’t help,” Daeholf said quietly.

  “What do you mean?” Jonas said, sitting up and looking around. They were riding mostly in a line, Alia and Zedek up ahead scouting, Trimas hanging back slightly as a rearguard. Daeholf had obviously joined him for a talk.

  “Drinking.”

  “Sounds to me like someone that would know.”

  “I do.”

  “Well we’ve all got pasts.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Why don’t you tell me a little more about yours,” Jonas said, indicating Daeholf and Trimas.

  Daeholf signalled Trimas, who joined them.

  “What’s up?” Trimas said.

  “Jonas wants a little history,” Daeholf said.

  “Ex-soldiers,” Trimas said.

  “You’ve already said that. I want a little more,” Jonas said.

  Daeholf made to roll up his sleeve.

  “You’ve already shown me that,” Jonas said. “Tenth Legion, second foot, retired, of course,” he parroted.

  “That’s right,” Daeholf said.

  “It’s a genuine tattoo too as far as I can tell,” Jonas said. “I want to know more.”

  “Fair enough,” Daeholf said. “I was a sergeant. Seen some action, mostly in the south. War down there got very nasty. I saw some ugly things so when my term came up I retired. Not much of a pension to go on, probably should have signed on for a second stint but I didn’t want to be involved in that anymore.”

  Jonas looked at him carefully. “Okay,” he finally said. “What about you?” he said to Trimas.

  “What about me?”

  “You’re a soldier too, that much is obvious. Who and where?”

  “Junior officer in Tenth. Wasn’t really getting anywhere as I didn’t have the money to buy in to a higher rank. That or the family connections.”

  “You two serve together then?”

  “Not directly, no,” Trimas said. “I was cavalry, we didn’t have much to do with the mud-pluggers if we could help it.”

  Daeholf stared at him.

  “How did you two meet then?” Jonas said.

  “Nasty little battle a couple of years ago near Haxus. His division got bogged down and my wing had to rescue him,” Trimas said.

  “That’s not quite how I remember it,” Daeholf said.

  “Details,” Trimas said dismissively.

  “They’re the important bit,” Jonas said.

  “Maybe we were both in trouble,” Trimas admitted.

  “Tenth near Haxus. So you two must know Captain Jomar?”

  “Not since he died five years ago, no. Arrow in the belly, nasty. Long before Haxus,” Trimas said. “You knew him then?”

  “Knew his father. Sad to hear he’s dead,” Jonas said.

  “War’s a dirty business,” Daeholf said.

  Jonas looked at the two of them. Their stories were good, they knew their stuff and at least some of it was probably true, but he had a nagging feeling there was something they were hiding. He decided not to press the issue now. They’d given him no reason to doubt them as companions so far. But they’d also given him no real reason to trust them fully either.

  “What about Zedek then?” Jonas said.

  “Logistics, like we said before. But we’ve been accommodating, it’s your turn now,” Trimas said.

  Daeholf winced. That was a bit of a blunt evasion.

  Jonas made no sign of any annoyance. what do you want to know?”

  “You’re a bounty hunter and Alia’s your apprentice,” Trimas said.

  “That’s right. Anything else?”

  Daeholf winced again. Bluntness was catching it seemed. Maybe Jonas had been irritated.

  “Ah, tell us about it?” Trimas said, faltering.

  Jonas sighed. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. Probably since your mother was still wiping your arse.”

  Daeholf noticed a change in the set of Trimas’s shoulders and the air seemed to become momentarily oppressive.

  Jonas seemed to notice it too. “I apologise,” he said. “Splitting headache this morning, I’m forgetting my manners.”

  Trimas relaxed.

  “So, anyway I’ve been doing this for many years,” Jonas said. “Been around, hunted down some bad men. Got to know a few ex-soldiers who have taken up the business over the years too.”

  “Never served yourself?” Daeholf said.

  “Not as such, no.”

  “You’re openly wearing weapons though, above and beyond the normal restrictions,” Daeholf said.

  “Aren’t Bounty Hunters allowed to?” Trimas said, looking perplexed.

  “Contrary to popular belief, not really. Alia operates at the upper end of the tolerable range weapon-wise,” Jonas said.

  “Must make life difficult for her?” Trimas asked.

  “Depends on what situation we end up in. And where we are. Laws are a little ‘looser’ the further you get from the capital.”

  “So how come you’re bearing arms then? I thought only soldiers and ex-soldiers were allowed to,” Daeholf persisted. “It’s one of the ‘perks’ for service — opens up job avenues others don’t have.”

  “Grandfathered in,” Jonas said simply.

  “You have been doing this a long time then,” Trimas said. “The public disarming law is quite old now.”

  “Like I said, I’ve been doing this a while.”

  “So what’s Alia’s story?” Trimas asked.

  “Best you ask her,” Jonas said.

  “Your apprentice though. She has something of a soldier about her though she’s far too short to have served,” Daeholf said.

  “Like I said, best you ask her. But no, she’s not been a soldier.”

  They were all quiet for a minute, deciding what to say next.

  “Different subject,” Trimas said. “You been after anyone like this before?”

  “Not as such, no. Now if the two of you don’t mind, I have a bad head and would appreciate being left alone for a while to recover.”

  Trimas and Daeholf exchanged a glance, nodded and dropped their horses back, leaving Jonas to ride on his own.

/>   Jonas rubbed his forehead. It felt like today was going to be a long day.

  *****

  “What did you find?” Marlen said to Kane. Inwardly he was impressed. His man must have run non-stop in both directions but was showing little sign of exhaustion. The improvements were continuing to prove themselves a spectacular success.

  “Base was compromised,” Kane said simply.

  “Details.”

  “Two of us dead. Not sure how they were killed but it was messy and their bodies were burning in the pyre we left to clear up the mess from the farmers.”

  “At the base?”

  “At the base.”

  “Anything else?”

  “The theatre was a real mess, might have been where the fight took place. There was blood everywhere and it looked like it had been ransacked.”

  “Anything missing?”

  “Hard to tell. I had a look and one of the crates might have been missing. There were papers everywhere. As per your instructions, I torched the place.”

  “Papers?”

  “All sorts of stuff.”

  “I’d ordered them moved.”

  “Our men must have been waylaid before they managed it.”

  “Any sign of who did this? Any of them dead at the scene?”

  “Only our men dead.”

  “What?”

  “No sign of anyone else dead at the scene.”

  Marlen started at that. His men may not have been the best of fighters as they came from disparate backgrounds and their training was a bit haphazard but they were durable and should have given a good account of themselves. None of their attackers dead? Maybe there were many of them and they took their dead away? This could be bad on many levels. He had to think.

  “No one dead at the scene, but any other signs?”

  “I asked around in the town. The gatekeeper indicated that someone had been asking questions.”

  “Gatekeeper? He one of ours?”

  “No. But he seemed wary when I asked him about people’s movements, saying that I was the fourth person that had asked him in the space of a day.”

  “Fourth?”

  “Might be nothing.”

  “I don’t believe in coincidences. Did you get any details?”

  “He was wary after all the people had been questioning him. I had to persuade him to talk.”

  “Another body?”

  “No, after everything I thought that might draw too much attention. I bribed him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Three men, mostly unremarkable. Two of them were quite big, and one of them was black.”

  “That all you have?”

  “They may still have been local, I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, especially after what seemed to have happened at the mine.”

  “You’ve done well. Leave me now.”

  “Yes, boss,” Kane said and backed away.

  Maybe three men asking questions that might lead them to him. There was not much in the way of description to go on. A black traveller in this part of the empire was likely either a merchant or a soldier. Why a soldier might be after him he didn’t know. A merchant — maybe they had something to sell him. But as he’d said he wasn’t a big believer in coincidence. That two of his men were dead shortly before people were asking questions about movements in the area was worrying and suggested he’d come to the attention of someone serious. There was no hint of any official action in the area so that meant it was likely to be someone with a personal motive. He’d done enough over the years to build up a long list of enemies so there were no clues there.

  The two men who had died were part of a group of four. The other two were not yet dead but were also not nearby or reported in.

  Still there was the problem of what to do. That someone was coming was clear. Someone who clearly by now had some knowledge of his activities, and someone who was capable of killing his men. Whilst he was tempted to deploy his soldier, there weren’t yet enough of them to risk losing any and they would inevitably draw the sort of official intention he was currently looking to avoid. No, something else needed to be done, something a little more subtle.

  A crate was missing Kane had said, and papers were strewn everywhere. He thought about what might have been contained in them. His operation notes he mostly kept with him or back at his main facility. There would probably have been some inventory lists and shipping dockets, however that may well have led them where he didn’t want them. Most of his stuff was being shipped to his backup facility near the village of Kalam. Whilst the documents were encoded, anyone that had the sort of resources to find that base and kill his men would probably be able to get the information out of them within a couple of days. That gave him an idea. He had an idea of where his new opposition would probably be going and maybe when. It was time to set a trap, and given their apparent ability to deal with his men, something that they wouldn’t expect.

  He might also have to resume his experiments rather than just altering people.

  *****

  He was drinking in a bar near the dockside in Bastion. He was too young but that didn’t matter since he was big for his age —tall and broad shouldered. Too big in fact, he reflected sadly, looking down at the big roll of fat around his middle.

  He sighed, hunched, looking into his beer. More than big enough to get served in a bar, and that was why he’d ended up doing what he did for a living. Imposing men were in demand as enforcers and he’d been unlucky enough to end up as an enforcer for someone without much in the way of morals.

  Well, ‘end up’ wasn’t quite the way to put it — he’d grown up from a boy with his boss, keeping his ‘friend’ out of trouble as he advanced from shady dealing to shadier dealing. Mostly by standing at his side and looking menacing.

  He’d had enough of it now. He didn’t mind looking tough but roughing people up for their money felt wrong and was only leading in one direction. It was time to get out.

  That’s where his fat was proving useful — people assumed that because he was fat, he was also stupid — certainly he’d done nothing to contradict them. He’d even been dubbed‘Lump’, called that for many years, mostly because of his weight, but in part because of what he sometimes did to people.

  So now here he was, sitting in a small, dingy tavern a couple of alleys from the docks, his escape plotted and waiting for it to play out.

  He looked around. Sitting as he was at a corner table at the back of the bar, he had a good view of the other patrons. It was still early evening and so business was slow, the fishermen still at sea and most of the sailors still on the docks unloading their ships. Most others from the city didn’t frequent places like this — dockside bars were usually rowdy and catered for a certain type of customer — and didn’t really welcome others.

  He studied the other patrons. There were two seamen playing dice quietly to themselves — maybe they’d finished early or perhaps they’d snuck off whilst their merchant master wasn’t looking. He paid them little attention.

  The only other customer was a well-dressed man of medium height, with a neatly groomed beard, smoking a long-stemmed pipe and engrossed in a book. This was certainly unusual for this part of town and this level of establishment. The man was an unknown and that could be an unpredictable element in how things might play out later.

  He decided it might be an idea to go over and find out a bit more.

  “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked, walking over to the man.

  The man looked up and studied him briefly.

  “No, not at all. Please,” the man said, indicating a stool opposite him at the table with the stem of his pipe.

  He sat, his bulk causing the stool to creak. He smiled, slightly embarrassed.

  “You don’t see many people sitting in places like this reading a book,” he ventured.

  The man smiled. “Perhaps not, but I’m waiting for someone and it seemed a reasonable way to pass the time.” The man paused. “Marlen,
” he said, putting down his pipe and offering his hand.

  He paused, deliberating.

  “Jonas," he said after a moment, the taste of it unfamiliar in his mouth.

  Probably better not to use his more usual name yet. Until he knew more about Marlen anyway.

  “Well Jonas, you know why I’m here now, what’s your story?”.

  “I’m waiting for someone too.”

  “Ah. There’s a bit of that going around it seems.” Marlen looked amused.

  “So, ah, what are you reading?” Jonas asked, not really knowing what to say.

  “A biography of General Lath. It’s quite informative.”

  “Hah. The man was an arse. Taking credit for his captain’s achievements.” He regretted this outburst immediately.

  Marlen studied him for a moment.

  “You’re remarkably well-informed on history from over a century ago for someone so … young.”

  “When it was cold, sometimes we used to break into the library to keep warm.”

  “We?”

  “Just me and a few friends”.

  “Ah. Do carry on.”

  “Nothing more to tell. Sometimes I read when we were there.”

  “Fair enough. What else did you read?”

  He paused, thinking for a moment, then said, “I read that he thought he was good at chess.”

  Marlen looked amused.

  “So he claimed.”

  “Do you play?”

  “You’re an interesting young man. Yes, I do. And, indeed, I have a set with me.”

  “Perhaps it would help pass the time while we both wait?”

  “Indeed,” Marlen said with a smile. He reached down into a bag below the table and pulled out a battered looking box with a checkered pattern on the top and the bottom. He opened the box, emptied the pieces out and laid the box down such that the top and bottom formed the board.

  “That’s seen some use,” Jonas said.

  “It’s old. Man I acquired it from told me it was General Lath’s, though I’m not sure I believe him.”

  Jonas picked up one of the pieces and studied it. Expensive. His soon-to-be-old boss would have very much liked to get his hands on a set like this. Though maybe he wouldn’t know what it was worth.

  “Black or white?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Do you want the black pieces or the white pieces?”

 

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