City of Dragons

“So. You will begin by finding Sinad Arich and Begasti Cored. There is a small box for each of them, there beside your fine desk. Each contains a gift that they will value above their lives from the Duke. Don’t lose either of them. They are irreplaceable. If they are lost, you will pay for them with your life. When you deliver them, you should remind each of them that their eldest son sends greetings to them and assure them that their heir-sons are prospering in the Duke’s care. This is not something that every member of their families can say, but for their eldest sons, it is still true. For it to remain true, all they must do is complete their missions. Suitably motivated, we are certain that these two will be eager to help you locate your runaway slave. And the merchandise that we have been promised.”

Hest’s heart had sunk deeper into despair with every word the man uttered. He made a final effort. “It may not be possible to obtain dragon parts. The dragons have left Cassarick. They and their keepers are gone. All of them may be dead for all I know.”

“Well. You should hope that at least one of them is still alive. And that your slave is in a position to keep the bargain he made on your behalf. If it is otherwise. . Well. I am sure neither of us desires to think of how that ends. And now I must be going.”

Abruptly, the man sheathed his gleaming blade. The tiny throwing knife vanished back to wherever it had come from. The relief Hest felt weakened his knees almost more than his terror had.

“I will do what I can.”

It was easy to say the words, to make any promise as the Chalcedean moved toward the door. “I know you will,” the man replied. He paused, his fingers closing on the hilt of the knife he had thrown, and with a sudden jerk he freed it from the dark paneling. He examined it for a moment. “Your parents have a lovely home,” he observed. “And for her years, your mother is still quite an attractive woman. Plump and pretty. Unscarred.” He smiled as he said the word and made the knife disappear.

Then he worked the latch on the door, stepped through it, and was gone. Hest reached it in two bounds, slammed it shut, and latched it firmly. His legs gave out under him and he sank to the floor. He took deep, ragged breaths in an attempt to calm himself. “I’m safe now,” he said aloud. “I’m safe.” But the words were hollow. The man’s threat to his family had been clear. If he thought Hest wasn’t obeying him, he’d kill Hest’s mother and probably his father. And then he’d come after Hest himself again.

With difficulty he got to his feet and staggered to his chair, not yet daring to open the door and shout for Ched. The Chalcedean might still be lurking outside it. He poured himself a cup of the tea. It still steamed as it came out of the pot. Had it been such a short time ago that that idiot Ched had left the tea and abandoned Hest to a sadistic assassin? Was it possible it was still morning? It felt as if days had passed.

He gripped the cup with two shaking hands and sipped the tea, letting the hot liquid steady him. His glance fell on the satchel the man had left beside his desk. It was in the Chalcedean style, an open-topped loosely woven bag. Inside it there were two boxes of wood with enamel insets. The sigil worked in gleaming scarlet and black was the Duke’s symbol, the grasping claw of a raptor. The edges of the box were studded with alternating pearls and small rubies. The boxes alone were worth a small fortune. What did they hold? Something irreplaceable. He turned one over and over in his hands, looking for a hidden catch. His napkin-wrapped hand leaked blood onto the pearls, making them rosy.

Whatever was in them would be fair compensation for what he had gone through this morning. Someone owed him recompense for that. Anger was beginning to assert itself. He would go to the City Guard. The Bingtown Traders had small tolerance for Chalcedeans at the best of times. When they heard that an insane assassin was loose in the city, they’d hunt him down like a dog. And, Hest reflected, if word got out that it was the treachery of Sedric Meldar that had lured such a villain to Bingtown. . well, Sedric and his family’s reputation were not Hest’s concern. He should have thought of those things before he stole from him.

A sharp rap at the door jerked him from the chair. He stood trembling, the box forgotten in his hands. Then another sharp knock, and Ched’s voice.

“Sir? Your guest is gone. I thought you’d like to know I found the scroll you wanted. The one in the glass- topped rosewood box? It had been stored in one of the cabinets, along with several others. Sir?”

Hest staggered to the door. With his good hand, he lifted the latch. “Call a healer, you fool! You left me at the mercy of a madman! And fetch the City Guard, right away!”

The man stood gaping at him, the precious scroll in its decorative box in his hands. The box that Hest held made a sudden small click; his unwary touch had released a hidden catch. The twin halves of the lid rose of their own accord. There was a smell, of spices and dirty salt. Hest looked inside.

The hand inside the box was small but well preserved. A child’s hand, palm up, the fingers open as if pleading. The silver bracelet that bound the ragged stump of the wrist did not conceal the two arm bones that protruded. They were uneven, crushed as much as cut.

“Sweet Sa, have mercy,” Ched gasped. He looked as if he might faint.

Hest found breath to speak. “Just a healer, Ched. A discreet one.”

“Not the City Guard, sir?” The servant looked baffled.

“No. And not a word of this to anyone.”

Day the 12th of the Change Moon

Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug

To Reyall, Acting Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown

Reyall, I regret to inform you that we have now received a complaint of tampering. Malta Vestrit Khuprus entered a notice with the Trehaug bird keepers that her last two messages from her mother, Keffria Vestrit Haven of Bingtown, appear to have been opened, read, and resealed with inferior wax. While she reports that neither message contained any sensitive material, being only family news and a discussion of the disappearance of Selden Vestrit, both women are concerned that a pattern of damaged wax or oddly spindled messages is developing for all their correspondence by bird. The integrity of the bird keepers is at stake here. I do not need to remind you that keeping Trader business private and protecting confidential communication is the only foundation that protects our Guild from private competition. If the Traders lose faith in our integrity, all our livelihoods will be at risk. Although I am sure there will be formal discussions at all levels of the Guild, I beg you to keep all communication with Erek and me at a professional level and to keep your eyes open for any discrepancies. Log anything you notice faithfully, and please keep Erek and me informed of anything you notice about birds, message tubes, wax and lead seals, and conditions of messages received. We are gravely concerned.

Detozi and Erek

Chapter Six

MARKED BY THE RAIN WILDS

“You’re packing.”

Malta could tell that Jani was trying not to sound accusing. She set down her powder brush and replied easily, “Yes. I’m going to Cassarick with Reyn.” She regarded Jani in the mirror before her. Only a soft tap at the door had warned her of her mother-in-law’s entrance. Malta tried not to frown. She’d been toying with her cosmetics, trying to disguise the deepening darkness under her eyes. The fine scaling on her face made the masquerade of powder and paint much more difficult than it had been when she was a smooth-faced young woman.

“You don’t think he could attend to this on his own? It’s only a problem with the diggers, and Reyn knows more about excavation issues than any of us.”

“Of course he does.” Malta had always taken pride in her husband’s competence in that difficult area. “But I want to go. There may be news of the Tarman expedition. Even if it’s only rumor. Cassarick is only a day’s journey up the river. And I don’t think we’ll stay more than two weeks.”

She took up the powder brush and gave one final quick swipe to the back of her neck. Her upswept hair bared