particular interest in mystical ones. Seems just lately he’s been looking to buy some more.”
“Sounds like he’s a prime candidate for a visit by the Inquisition,” said Rik. He was thinking this sounded like classic behaviour of one of the Dark Brotherhoods, those legendary conspiracies so-beloved of chap-book writers. Rik knew that they were more than legendary though. He had seen some strange things during his time in Shadzar.
“Not if he’s buying on behalf of his patron.” Rik saw where this was leading and did not like it one little bit, although there was not much he could do about it at the moment. It was a factor’s business to do what his master’s wanted, and if some Selari Terrarch collected old tomes, it would be his business to furnish the library. He did sound like a good candidate for a sale, unfortunately.
“Ours are not exactly the sort of book that the Exalted approve of.”
“So much the better. Apparently this guy’s patron has a particular interest in such things. Pays good coin for them. Ari claims some of his lads got extra leverage just by hinting their wares were in the Scarlet Index.”
“Ari’s boys robbing libraries, are they?”
“Some of them do high wire work just like you and Leon, Halfbreed. Sometimes when they lift from a house they find books in the treasure chests along with the gold. You know as well as I do they are always worth something.”
Rik did indeed. He thought back to some of the things he had found in strongboxes. Account books with complete lists of debtors, letters that incriminated certain wealthy, respectable and very married citizens, a collection of vintage pornography. It had all been worth something. When very young and naive he had even come across a book in one of the Dead Tongues that he knew now was a grimoire. Foolishly he had given it to the Old Witch. He supposed there just might be something to this tale.
“Assuming this Bertragh is interested, how do we contact him without giving the game away?”
“You’re getting slow in your old age, Halfbreed. I thought it would be obvious.” It was when he thought about it.
“We tell him Ari sent us…”
“Sometimes you are even quicker than the Barbarian is.”
Rik smiled. He needed to be seen to go along with just now. He needed time to work out a way to push an iron bar through the spokes of this deal. Another thought struck him like a blow.
“I reckon we should ask brother Vosh some more questions, some very hard questions.”
“Way ahead of you,” said Weasel. “I already sent Leon to fetch him. The lad’s an early riser.”
“What about finding these tribesmen ourselves,” said the Barbarian. “Get them before they get us.”
Weasel sucked his teeth and shook his head slightly. “It might take a little time.”
“Well, when you do find the bastards let me know,” said the Barbarian. “I’ll make sure they never trouble anybody ever again.”
Weasel nodded. It looked like they were finished here for the moment. He drummed his finger on his thigh, waiting for Rena to come back so they could go eat. Just then Leon came in. His face was pale and he looked more than a little sick. Rik guessed it was not because of his hangover either.
“Somebody got Vosh,” he said. “He’s deader than a dragon’s dinner.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sardec woke from strange dreams of far times and other days. He wondered if they were true visions of the Blessed Land and things that had happened there, or mere fantasies. Sometimes, the Dreamwalker let the Farborn see true. He had heard that some of those born on the soil of Gaeia had visions of things only the Everborn could know, and the truth of their dreams had been confirmed by their elders. Such visions were especially common around Solace, and were said to be a good omen.
Sardec tried to remember exactly what he had seen but already it was fading, receding into those caverns where dreams go when they wish to avoid scrutiny. All he could recall was the presence of two Terrarchs so similar looking they could only be brothers. Both had cast very long shadows. There had been a dragon there too, the power of its halo so intense that Sardec could recall it vividly. The great beast had been far more alive, far more wrapped in power than anything born on Gaeia. He shook his head. If there had been a dream-reader close by, he might have gone to her, but there were no true interpreters of visions in a provincial place like this.
He rose and strode into the outer chamber. His bath was already drawn, warm as he liked it, and filled with the scented oils his mother had sent from the capital, and which he preferred because they reminded him of home. On a silver plate on a mirrored chest of drawers were two envelopes, both of expensive paper and bearing the seal of Princess Asea. One was an invitation to visit her at noon.
The second was a beautifully engraved invitation to the Solace Ball, at Asea’s palace. He swiftly penned a response to both and dispatched them into town by courier before settling himself into the warm waters of the tub.
Vosh had not died easily. Blood was everywhere, soaking the bed, forming sticky congealing pools on the floor. Flies lapped it up. A gag had stoppered his screams.
Rik looked at Weasel. The poacher was a little paler than usual but his face was stony. The Barbarian whistled jauntily but something about his eyes told Rik he was no happier than Weasel. Leon did not even pretend nonchalance. He was busy being noisily sick in a chamber pot.
No wonder the boy was so thin, Rik thought. He seemed to have trouble keeping anything down. He guessed it was not the corpse alone that was bothering them. God knows they had all seen plenty of those before. It was the incongruousness of it, finding a body so mutilated in a place where they had been drinking the night before, that had no connection with the scene of any battle.
“What in the Seven Hells happened here?” The landlord Shugh seemed to have forgotten all about his threats of the previous evening. He was perplexed that such a thing could have happened in his inn, and seemed to welcome anyone who might give him a clue. Seemed was the appropriate word. It was possible he had been in league with whoever had done this and did not want anyone to know. It would not do his business any good, if people thought things like this could happen to them in his hourly rate rooms.
Rik looked at him coldly. “What I would like to know is how something like this could happen without anybody noticing?”
Shugh looked at him, read the suspicion in his eyes and replied quickly; “He was bound hand and foot. He had a gag in his mouth. He had paid for the room for the night. No one was going to trouble him till he refused to get up when your friend here came calling this morning.”
“He was alone then?”
“No. He went up with a girl. Marla was her name.”
“She didn’t do this on her own.”
“She left an hour later. Said Vosh was asleep, and did not want to be disturbed.”
“Somebody disturbed him,” said the Barbarian, his voice a little thicker than usual. “Somebody disturbed him quite a lot.”
Weasel started as if he suddenly remembered something, strode forward and undid the rag from around Vosh’s mouth. Something like a small shrivelled sausage fell out.
“They stuffed his dick in his mouth,” said Weasel, with a certain gloomy satisfaction. “Hill-men did this for sure. It’s their favourite punishment for traitors. They did it while he was still alive and bleeding to death.”
Rik nodded. He had heard the stories. It was one thing to hear about them. It was another thing to witness them from this close. Leon got even paler when he heard this. His eyes locked on Weasel’s face.
“You think they want to do this to us.” It was an alarming prospect Rik thought. Weasel shot Leon a warning look. This was not the sort of thing to be discussed in front of Shugh.
Shugh just looked at him. “We’re going to have to get rid of this body,” he said.
“Don’t be cutting it up and putting it in your pies,” said Weasel.
“It might improve the taste,” said the Barbarian. Not surprisingly Shugh did not appreciate the joke. He lumbered off downstairs shouting for his sons. Nobody had suggested calling the Watch. Nobody would.
