The Sword-Edged blonde

by Alex Bledsoe

  “I prefer being self-employed.”

  He shrugged. The gesture made his whole body wobble. “Then I can assume you’re here on business?”

  “Yeah.”

  I watched his every move. I sensed he was dangerous far out of proportion to his appearance. “Buying or selling?” he asked.

  “Neither.”

  “What else is there?”

  “Insurance. I’m taking out a policy on a friend’s life.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re a smart guy to get this far. Don’t turn stupid by threatening me. You think I’d be able to live here all alone if I didn’t know how to protect myself?”

  “I’m sure you can. I’m no slouch myself. I took out Stan Carnahan once, too.”

  It was small, but I saw the muscles in his cheek tremble as he clenched his teeth. “Who?”

  “Let’s move this along. Once upon a time, you washed up on an island and, like most sailors, behaved very badly to the lady who lived there. Bad luck for you that she turned out to be a goddess. She made you into what you are now, and I’m betting you’ve been waiting for your chance to get her back for it ever since. You knew she’d reappear somehow, somewhere, so you kept your eyes and ears open. Maybe that was the whole reason you developed this underground criminal network of yours. You eventually caught wind of her little experiment in the Ogachic Mountains, and paid a bad man a lot of money to insinuate himself into the group. Then you sent a nice girl named Cathy to deliver your little ‘gotcha’ present. And you did get them, all of them, including the goddess who let herself be human enough to die.”

  In the candlelight, his expression changed from amusement through anger until, at last, he seemed about to cry. “How do you know all this?” he asked, his voice raspy with emotion.

  “Because I was there, too, on the night it happened. And I made sure your bad man didn’t walk away.”

  “But she died, didn’t she?” he whispered. “She did die?”

  I nodded.

  He sighed with relief. “For a minute I thought . . . well, it doesn’t matter. She died.”

  I shook my head a little. “You’re a freak in more ways than one. One lethal revenge wasn’t enough for you. Because the lady really was a goddess, she showed up again, as the queen of Arentia. You weren’t going to trust proxies like Stan Carnahan this time, so you wangled an invitation to a state function in Arentia City. I know how it works, with enough money and a couple of connections it wouldn’t have been too hard. Canino was the actual guest, though; he took you along in your monkey suit.” Blond man with the ugly chimpanzee, Vogel had written in his report. “When the queen left the banquet, you slipped away after her. You confronted her somewhere between the main hall and the nursery.” You’re right, though, it couldn’t possibly take that long, Rhiannon had said. “But after all that time, all that effort, she didn’t even remember you, did she? She saw the same thing I do right now: some little, pathetic monster. That must have pissed you off no end.”

  I could imagine his rage, confronting the woman he believed had done this to him and having his grand moment of revenge spoiled by her amnesiac blankness. He swallowed hard, and his eyes grew shiny. “I just wanted her to kill me,” he said softly. “I thought that when she died before, I would, too. But I didn’t.”

  “Sure. You had a ‘plan B,’ though,” I continued. “You drugged her and got her loopy enough to let you into the nursery. You took her baby out hidden in the suit; you probably doped him up a little as well, just to keep him quiet. You took advantage of what was at hand in the castle to set up the murder scene, and used the meat and bones of one of your pet monkeys as the final touch. Then you disposed of the baby until Rhiannon decided she remembered you. But that never happened, and never will.”

  He shook his head, and it dislodged one tear down his cheek. “I’m no baby killer,” he said.

  “I never said you killed him.” Andrew was a decent man, with a kind heart and the ability to feel love, Epona had said. “I know exactly where you left him. You see, I can count to six, even when someone says it’s five.”

  “Then why haven’t you told the bitch?” he snapped petulantly. He sounded for all the world like a teenager caught out past curfew. “I’m sure she’d be just delighted to know her brat wasn’t really murdered.”

  “I will. Once I take out that insurance.”

  He laughed chillingly, shook his head, then suddenly his eyes opened wide. He snapped his fingers and stared at me. “Wait. I know who you are. Yeah. King Philip’s childhood friend, let me think . . . LaCrosse. Edward, the current Baron LaCrosse.”

  This bothered me a lot more than I let on. How the hell could he know that?

  His demeanor changed almost at once, and his smile grew vicious. “I know a fair bit about you, too. Golden boy gone bad, as I recall. You let a bunch of trail raiders rape and murder the princess of Arentia.”

  I tried to minimize it. “Old news.”

  “To some, maybe. But a fellow like you doesn’t get over something like that, ever.” He waddled toward me, and the candlelight illuminated his cold, malevolent grin. All trace of the hurt victim had vanished. “When you’re built like me, you learn pretty quickly that the only thing stronger than muscle or steel is information. And I know something about that day I just bet you never told anyone.”

  I barely got out the words, “Nothing to do with this.”

  He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “You’re more responsible for the death of the late Princess Janet than you ever let on. See, there were over a dozen thugs involved that day, and by the time they were finally chased down, a couple of them had left and been replaced by new men. One of those veterans ended up working for me, and he told me a very interesting story.”

  This couldn’t be true. The Arentian army had hunted down and slaughtered all of the ones I hadn’t killed. It was in the news broadsheets. I’d read about it myself. I even identified some of the bodies.

  “He said they were riding down the road minding their own business, on their way to a job in Hefron and not even out to cause any trouble, when they passed the spot where you and the princess were picnicking by a lake. One of his buddies made a pretty rude comment about the young lady.”

  Like black bile boiling through a thin crust, that afternoon came back to me. I felt the glorious sunshine, smelled the flowers, saw Janet’s tears of happiness when she accepted my proposal of marriage. Then they rode past.

  I’d do her from behind, the big bearded guy said loud enough for me to hear, and the rest of them laughed.

  “You got all irate about it and acted like you were some hotshot,” the Dwarf continued.

  I’d jumped to my feet and yelled, Hey! You apologize to the lady!

  “They intended to ride on, assuming you were some local farm boy showing off for his girlfriend. But you wouldn’t let it go.”

  Eddie, forget about it, Janet had said. It’s no big deal. Don’t let it ruin the whole day.

  “You hopped the fence and drew your sword.”

  Eddie! she’d yelled, more annoyed than frightened. Stop acting like an idiot!

  “You challenged the guy who’d made the remark to a duel, right there on the spot.”

  Fancy sword you got, the bearded guy said, and took a lazy swipe at me with his own weapon, intending to just smack me with the flat of his blade. But I parried it, and stabbed him in the heart. The entire fight took seconds.

  “And when you killed him, that’s when the rest of them got pissed off.”

  Holy shit, he’s dead! a greasy little guy had exclaimed, bending over the fallen man. Then he looked at me. You son of a bitch, he was just goofin’ around!

  “You were tougher than they thought, and you took down a bunch of them before they finally got you under control. By then everyone was freaking out, and they took it all out on your girlfriend. They made you watch, too, then thought they’d killed you. But they were wrong.”

  Shit, she’s dead, one o
f them had said, rising from Janet’s body, his groin covered in her blood. Then so’s this asshole, another one replied, and drove his sword into me. He missed my heart but got my lung, and I felt like I was burning alive inside my chest. Janet’s eyes were open, and one of the men nudged her head with his boot so that it lolled to the side and stared at me. I gagged on my own blood and felt it run down my chin.

  “When they found you, they called you a hero, didn’t they? But you always knew better.”

  The Dwarf’s words grew distant, even though he was three feet away. My heart was so loud I could barely think.

  He was right, and I’d spent the intervening years rewriting the story in my own head just so I could make it through each day. We’d both been victims, I’d fought heroically, and I left Arentia from my own deep-seated nobility, not . . . not my utter shame at the truth. This was the darkest thing in my soul, and this minute monster had just dragged it into the candlelight of his own little sanctuary.

  “And you think solving this great crime will make it up to her brother, don’t you? That’s the whole reason you’ve done this.” He laughed. “And you called me a freak.”

  I’d been prepared for anything, I thought, but not this. The room seemed impossibly small and hot now, and my breath came in shallow, rapid bursts. My chest tightened painfully, especially around the old sword scar. I’d spent so long holding all this inside, keeping it hidden, that I had no idea how to let it out. It logjammed in my throat, choking me.

  But luckily, my professional reflexes weren’t emotionally involved. When the Dwarf aimed his tiny, probably poisoned stiletto at me, my arm reacted before I even knew it. I palmed the knife in my sleeve and stepped aside, avoiding his blow and striking my own right in the little bozo’s heart. As I spun, I drew my sword and slammed my back into the door, ready to defend myself, although I knew I’d dealt him a lethal blow.

  The Dwarf wobbled a little, then regained his balance. He looked down curiously at the knife stuck in his chest. A trickle of blood oozed out around it. “Hmph,” he said, wincing. “You are quicker than you look.”

  I stared and didn’t move. My knife was stuck in his heart. I’d felt it strike home; no bone or hidden armor had deflected it. He should be dead, or at least seriously inconvenienced. But it seemed no more urgent than a mosquito bite.

  He looked up at me, amused by my shock. “Come on, you know what she did to me. She wouldn’t let me die. That means no one can kill me. That’s why I went to see her in Arentia.”

  Then something occurred to him. With a grin of comprehension, he said, “My God, you never really believed her until this moment, did you?” He threw back his head and positively cackled. “That’s great!”

  “What the fuck are you?” I said. My voice sounded weak and raw.

  He sang, “I’m Andrew Reese, and I’m broken to pieces.” He laughed again. “You think that’s hard to believe? How’s this: that time I spent on her island?”

  He stepped closer and looked into my eyes. “That was five hundred years ago.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  The sky grew lighter in the east by the time I left the Dwarf’s estate. As I crossed the yard toward the gate, the monkeys in the trees stirred and hooted at me. The noise was both loud and somehow arrogant. I bet the neighbors loved this guy.

  I was numb in every imaginable way. I walked out in a true daze, not caring if anyone saw me. Since I was splattered with dirt and blood, and carried something that would have been impossible to explain, only dumb luck or divine guidance got me out of the house and down the street unseen. I even left the gate open, out of some perverse desire to show off my gory handiwork.

  I shambled along the curb toward my horse. If anyone saw me, they must have assumed I was some drunken reveler returning home. Lola still waited patiently under the tree branch, although a ticket stuck over my saddle horn warned me against leaving my horse on the street in the future. She snorted and pawed nervously as I approached, overpowered by the smell of blood and violence around me.

  “Shh, girl, I know, just take it easy,” I murmured. She quieted down but still watched me closely, especially the package I carried wrapped in part of a fancy tablecloth. If animals are as sensitive as some people say, this object must have well and truly terrified her.

  I climbed onto her back and nudged her into the street. It was bright enough to see the city below us as we descended toward it, and the sails of ships in the harbor glowed pink with the dawn. I passed a milk wagon laboring its way toward the mansions; I hoped it wasn’t the day the milkman collected his bills.

  In my room, I undressed and stuffed all my bloody clothes, even my boots, into the fireplace. There wasn’t much kindling available, since most travelers didn’t use fires in the summer, but the owner accepted my story that I needed to sweat out a case of the sniffles and scrounged up some extra wood for me.

  The intense heat and perspiration helped me reconnect to the world outside my addled head. I lay naked on the floor in front of the hearth, shivering despite the fire, and let my mind go back over the night. It wasn’t pleasant, but I knew if I tried to deny it, or rewrite it as I had Janet’s death, it too would blindside me in the future. I was through lying to myself, about anything.

  Eventually I fell asleep. At first my dreams mingled Janet’s awful death with what I had done at the Dwarf’s mansion, but suddenly all that fell away and I found myself, surprisingly, standing outside Epona Gray’s cottage. The sun was bright, and multicolored birds flitted through the air leaving trails of shimmering sparks. The little building was neat and intact.

  The door opened, and Epona emerged. She was staggeringly beautiful, her dark hair loose and shiny and her skin radiant. She was barefoot and wore a flowing, low-cut gown. Her eyes twinkled with amusement. She crossed her arms and leaned against the lintel. “So you figured it out.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Neither of us lied.”

  “I know.”

  “And you believe it?”

  An emotion I couldn’t identify swelled in me. My vision blurred with tears. “I believe it. I believe you. I believe in you.”

  She laughed, but gently. “Please, Eddie, don’t get maudlin on me now. You still have a lot of work to do. But you fought down the darkest things within you, and you deserve a rest. So take this as a gift.”

  Three of the shimmering birds flew down and hovered, like hummingbirds, before me. I held out my hand, and one of them tentatively came forward, nudged me with his tiny beak and then settled into my palm. At the instant of contact, I felt lighter, younger and happier than I could ever remember. All the weight of guilt, self-doubt and regret left me. I think I cried out.

  But whatever happened, it woke me up. The position of the sun through the window told me it was well past noon. My muscles ached, and my joints popped as I uncurled from my fetal position. The fire had done its job and consumed all my incriminating belongings, and was now reduced to smoldering coals. I spread the ashes so they would extinguish on their own, and poured water in the basin so I could clean up.

  I looked at myself in the mirror, pale and still shaky, and accepted that the person I saw there had indeed done the things I had done. The weight of a lifetime of deceit was gone, and I recalled Epona’s magical bird from the dream. Had it been a genuine vision, or just my own mind rationalizing me out of my despair? At this point, I could accept anything as real.

  I washed up, put on some clean clothes and my extra pair of boots, packed the rest of my stuff and prepared to leave. I took special care with my souvenir from the Dwarf’s house; an awful lot depended on it reaching its destination. Just as I tossed the bag over my shoulder, someone knocked at my door. I knew it was Bernie before I opened it.

  He wore a neat, pressed official uniform and was freshly shaved. His eyes were cold and professional. “Leaving town?” he said without even glancing at my bag.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I said as I stepped aside to let him enter.
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br />   “It’s afternoon,” he snapped, and closed the door behind him. “You know where I’ve been for the last five hours? Up on Brillion Hill investigating the murders of Clarence Canino and Gretchen Paltrow. Some delivery man found ’em dead on a back porch, and the folks in that part of town like to feel safe. So they expect an arrest to happen quickly.” His eyes swept the room, taking in the fresh ashes. “Know anything about it?”

  “Nah. Tanko gave me a bogus address. The number didn’t even exist.”

  He held out his hand. “Let me see it.”

  I looked him in the eye. “I threw it away.”

  He walked to the window and opened it. “It’s hot as my fat wife’s armpit in here,” he muttered. The salty wind lifted the curtains and stirred the ash in the fire as it made a breeze up the chimney. Bernie knelt by the hearth. “Buttons in with the coals,” he said. “Somebody burning clothes?”

  “Not much firewood this time of year.”

  He looked up at me. “Did you kill ’em, Eddie?”

  I shook my head. “I shot Canino, but the girl killed him. He gutted her before he died.”

  “What about the Dwarf?’

  I shrugged. “Apparently he doesn’t exist.”

  “You mean anymore.”

  I smiled. “Bernie, if I’d killed the guy, I’d tell you. You know that.”

  “We found a whole house laid out for special access. We found clothes cut to fit a dwarf. We found an awful lot of blood in the wine cellar, and what looked for all the world like a fresh grave. But when we dug it up, no one was in it.”

  “And you think I did all that?”

  “Somebody did.”

  I went to the window and looked out at the clean, twinkling ocean far below. “Bernie, I swear to you, I didn’t kill anybody. Not Canino, not the girl, not the Dwarf. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have, just that I didn’t. And that’ll have to do you. I’m still working for my client, so I can’t tell you any more than that.” I turned to face him. “I’m going to leave now, unless you plan to arrest me.”