Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1) (18 page)

~

It was a black night. Rain fell in scattered waves as
heavy clouds hung overhead. The air was fresh and the wind blew.  In the
darkness, Arjun approached the house of Bal-Shim iru Shulggi. In the deep
shadows of the alley, he had put on black clothes and darkened his skin with ashes.
He carried a knife and a small kit of gear. Beings of darkness gathered round
him in mute curiosity. From the darkness, he surveyed the back walls of
Bal-Shim’s compound. There was a faint crackle of magic along the parapets. A
guard in full armor walked above, with a spear at his shoulder.

Arjun waited for the man to pass around to the other
side, crept to the base of the wall. Bal-Shim had kept it well-maintained and
too smooth to climb unaided. Arjun studied the enchantment on the parapet, saw
it included Abjuration to disable magics of those trying to cross it, as well
as Conjuration connected with sound, likely an alarm. He silently made the
appropriate Words of Opening, and a section of enchantment vanished. He threw
up a thin knotted rope with a hook. Like the rest of his gear, the rope was
blackened with ash. He climbed up swiftly and pulled the rope up behind him as
he crouched in the shadows. The guard stopped for a moment, looking around
slowly, as if he’d heard or thought he’d seen something. Arjun pressed himself
flat against floor along the parapet, deep in shadows. The guard started
walking again.

As the guard went around, Arjun dropped to the flat
roof of a storehouse, itself piled with yet more goods, hid and got a look at
things. As with many other homes along the Street of Flame, Bal-Shim’s was
constructed with a great house in three stories, and a courtyard and
outbuildings of two.  However, Arjun could see that instead of the usual open
air workshops, Bal-Shim now had storerooms with heavy bronze-bound doors lining
his courtyard, and out in the courtyard itself were towering piles of goods
stacked under tarps. The thief had acquired a lot of loot in recent months.

Arjun could also see the glow of wards at every door,
and more at the doors and windows of the great house. One of those doors was at
the bottom of some deep shadowed stairs, and went into what must be the vaults
under the house. There was a dim light coming from a first floor room next to
what could only be the kitchen, it had open windows, and inside he could see a
long table. Around it sat a few men in plain kilts, plates and cups before
them.

Arjun slipped to the ground on a narrow ladder between
two storehouses, then crept from shadow to shadow among the stacks of goods. He
found a spot where he could both see and listen. The dozen men inside were
talking about work and events in the city. Arjun thought it was odd of Bal-Shim
that in a group of servants that large, none were women. However, he then noted
something more important. One of the servants, dressed a bit better than most,
looked almost identical to him in size and build. His face was similar as well,
looking like Arjun as he was… before, clean shaven and wearing bronze, though
with a big higher bridged a nose and a broader forehead. Still, it was very
strange. He studied the man’s mannerisms, his walk, and the way he spoke.

“Dur-Enki… you’re always in the know. C’mon tell us
what the old man’s got in the works!” said one of the others.

A large man with a rougher look, and a kilt with
bronze plates answered, “That doesn’t mean I can tell you, but don’t worry,
doesn’t Bal-Shim take good care of his own?”

The others laughed their approval, and raised their
drinks. One of them spoke in a voice like gravel, “To good pay, easy loot, and
Master Bal-Shim!”

Dur-Enki and the others gave a rough and enthusiastic
cheer, then gulped their wine.

Then the one who looked like Arjun seemed to let
curiosity get the better of him, and spoke again, “But you know you can trust
us, especially me – I’m the master’s personal valet and food taster, don’t you
think he trusts me?  It won’t hurt to tell where they’re gonna hit next.”

Dur-Enki made a rough chuckling laugh, “Hedu, those
are different kinds of trust. And if Bal-Shim wanted you to know, he’d have
told you himself. Besides, much as I like you and respect the guts it takes to
do your job, it still mystifies me why he hired you on what I hear is rich pay
instead of rounding up an urchin or some cheap reject from the slaver
auctions.”

He continued, sweeping his gaze around the room,
“You’ll all find out soon enough, when the loot rolls in. If you’re lucky, we
might get a girl to pass around before they sell her off. In the meantime, the
master’s got something that should ease your minds… a big party in a week, for
all of us in the crews, you in the household, and even a few of his favorites
from the vigilance committees. Now, somebody pour me another drink.”

Arjun’s skin crawled at the idea that Bal-Shim must
have hired a personal servant, with the dangerous job of food taster, on the
basis of looking like him. Still he thought, it was an important piece of
information, and considered how to use it.

Carefully avoiding the guard, Arjun scaled back up the
ladder and the wall, then over the parapet where he reversed his Words of
Opening and allowed magic to flow back through the gap in the protective
enchantments. Then he slipped away into the night.

18.
The Tale of Bitter Fruit

Crossing the city some days later from the G’abudim
quarter, Arjun talked to one of Inina’s shady contacts. The man shared that he
had heard rumors that the city believed Enlil iru Heb was connected with Arjun,
whom he knew as Sharur, and thought that trouble would soon be on its way for
the weapon master. Arjun thanked the man, paid him well, and walked as fast as
he could without breaking into a run.  Enlil had been a harsh trainer, and
never one for words, but he’d taught Arjun well.  That teaching had saved
Arjun’s life more than once, and now he reflected on how much gratitude,
respect, and even friendship he felt for the grim older man. However out of
place it might seem to Enlil himself, wanted to tell him. But first he had to
try to keep his trainer alive, and that meant warning him.

At Enlil’s house however, something terrible had
happened. Arjun saw the city guards from a distance, hoped that no one was
around who might see through his beggar’s disguise, and continued forward as
slowly as he dared with that many guards glaring angrily about. For in front of
the house were a full dozen of them, some wounded. On the ground beside them
they were piling, with the help of some of people’s watchmen, the bodies of
eighteen more of their fellows. Next to them were the bodies of Enlil and his
formidable doorman.

“Filthy dog!” cursed one of the guards, as he kicked
Enlil’s corpse. Other guards snarled and joined in, kicking the body or jabbing
it with their spears.

Another guard growled to their captain, who stood by
with a gloomy expression, “They didn’t even say anything! Just fought us
silently to the end…”

Arjun’s mind reeled. His grim old master, who’d
trained him tirelessly, mercilessly, and well, was dead. Killed, murdered by
these men! Only by intense force of will did he keep himself from giving any
visible sign of what he felt. He walked onward.  There was another disturbing
touch to the scene, one that it took Arjun a moment to recognize. That captain
wore a whip at his belt. He’d never once in all his life seen a city guardsmen
armed with the weapon of masters over slaves, and his blood ran cold thinking
of what it might mean.

“Hey!” yelled one of the auxiliaries, “I know that
rat! See that beggar there, he’s actually a young man, calls himself Sharur! No
way he’s up to any good sneaking around like that!”

Arjun remembered the voice, one or another of Inina’s
“friends” from her thieving days, who now must have another line of work. As he
thought this, he was already accelerating into a run. Weary guards muttered
curses, and some of them followed. The people’s watchmen, who looked and
sounded too fresh to have been in the fight in Enlil’s house, enthusiastically
chased after Arjun, howling like a mob.

Arjun darted down a side street, then an alley. He
could hear the sounds of pursuit, and someone was blaring a trumpet over and
over. He muttered curses under his breath, knowing he’d have to lose these
pursuers before he dared go home. He hoped he could. He made a winding course
southward, away from Inina and toward the wharf district and the middle harbor.
It went on for hours.  Considering he hadn’t even been accused of anything in
particular, it was a testament both the apparent fanaticism of the watchmen,
and to the mood of fear and suspicion now hanging over the city.

At last, however, far to the south of where he’d been,
he escaped his pursuers and the other bands of watchmen who’d joined them. He
found he was near the cape that divided the middle and east harbors, an area
favored by sailors and ship captains. He forced down the pain he felt at the
death and cruelty dealt to Enlil, let nothing show, and channeled it into
bitter resolve. He crept back north parallel to the caravan road, then took the
long along the fringes of the great bazaar and the plaza, then crossed the
great road and in the narrow streets between it and the Street of Vipers. Hours
more had passed, and it was now late on a cool night. The streets were nearly
empty. Ahead was the House of Red, and his little home with Inina.

But then he saw his miseries had just begun.

In front of the House of Red was a pair of city
guards, flanking the cramped doorway. He felt bitter cold entering his mind.
There was only one reason they’d be there like that. Right or not, he went
straight towards them. At first they ignored him, and he remembered he still
looked like a dirty beggar in rags, a harmless fool at worst. As he kept
coming, one of them looked at him curiously, hand at his belt and his sheathed
sword. He had his shield slung on his back, and a spear resting against the
wall.

“Hey you, filth, get back! This place is off limits…”
the man said, his speech cut off as Arjun’s sword pierced his windpipe. The
other man wheeled in shock, drawing his sword. Arjun was faster, and lunged
forward, running his sword clean through the guard’s waist, then pulling it out
as he doubled over, bringing it round, and with a chopping motion from above
nearly severing the man’s head.

There was a shriek of horror from somewhere out on the
street. Arjun ignored it and raced inside. Lurshiga was nowhere around, nor
anyone else. Benches and stools were piled against one wall, and goods from the
kitchen were assembled in a pile on the other. There was a lamp on the floor by
the entrance. Three of Bal-Shims watchmen looked to have gotten the duty of
hauling Lurshiga’s wine amphorae from their niches and to a pile near the door,
but they’d stopped and were squatting in a little circle on the floor drinking
some of the wine.

Arjun kicked the lamp over, and it went out. The three
men were already rising, but then stumbled blinded as their eyes adjusted to
the sudden darkness. But to Arjun it was all the same. As the watchmen clumsily
reached for their spears and clubs, he cut them down like so much wheat.
Without further thought of them, he ran toward the stairs. His heart raced as
panic and rage battled for control of his mind. Down the stairs came two more
guards with drawn swords, in a hurry as if they’d heard the shriek. One of them
was a sergeant with silver and copper trim on his kilt and cloak. Like the
captain from earlier, he had a whip at his belt.

Seeing Arjun, the guards charged. He dove low, dodged
the downward slash of the ordinary guardsman, and brought his own sword back
around to sever the tendons of one of the man’s legs. The sergeant wheeled to
face him, but Arjun brought up his free hand and loosed a gout of flame a foot
long into the man’s face. The sergeant roared in pain and staggered back. Arjun
glanced at the other guardsman. He was trying to rise, his head tiled forward
and exposing a gap between his helmet and his armor. Arjun brought the point of
his sword down into that gap, and the man dropped like a stone. Then he turned
again to the sergeant who was clutching his burned and blinded face. Arjun gave
him another blast of fire through the neck, and the man fell dead.

Before he hit the ground, Arjun was racing up the
stairs.

On the upper floors, rooms had been emptied and their
meager furniture piled in the hallways. Arjun spared a half-second’s
consideration that the place must have been searched from top to bottom. He
didn’t slow or stop, and raced to his room at the end of the top floor hallway.
The door was open. He felt his world go black. Inside, things had been
ransacked even more thoroughly than the rest of the place. The window however
was still closed and barred. There were signs of a fight, and blood.

Arjun yelled in fury. He wheeled around the room,
sword out, not knowing what to do next. Then he stopped, forced his terror and
rage back down, and considered what he had to do next. First was to listen, he
thought he could hear commotion downstairs. No doubt, he thought, guards were
on the way in force. Second, he had to see if their secret had been found. He
looked in the hidden corner alcove. It was open. He leaned in and checked the
false floor they’d added, it was still there. He moved it aside, and there was
the red granite seal stone, on its string. He grabbed it, put it around his
neck, and immediately went to the window. He unbarred it. He could hear the
sound of yells, clanking metal, and many running feet below on the second
floor.

He climbed onto the sill of the window, tensed
himself, and made the desperate leap across the narrow alley to the flat-roofed
building there. He almost missed, grabbed hold of the little parapet, pulled
himself up, and raced across, then leapt, at full speed, over higher wall of
the next building in line. Behind him, he could hear yells from the open
window. As he raced from roof to roof away from the fading lantern light, the
stars looked deceptively beautiful overhead.

~

Arjun hoped he was right. Hoped the guards had
prisoners and were taking them back to the citadel. There had been no bodies,
and no trails of blood, so Inina, Lurshiga, and whoever else might be alive. He
reasoned that if they were, they’d probably use a cart, maybe with a prison
cage. That meant they’d go slowly. They would likely take the most direct route
back, following the Street of Vipers to the great road, then across the plaza,
but avoiding the bazaar and instead going through one of the two main east-west
roads across the inn and tavern district.

He raced down the near-deserted streets. Near the
plaza, he saw a patrol of city guards far ahead, coming the other way, and
ducked into a side street at full speed, hoping he hadn’t been seen. He raced the
long way round past where he thought they’d conceivably be, and darted back
onto the main road, turning his head as he went. The guards must not have seen
him, and had continued onward.

Luck was with him the rest of the way, and he
encountered no more guards, until he found the ones he’d hoped for.

There ahead were two guards in armor with swords, and
four watchmen with spears walking alongside a four wheeled cart pulled by a
tired-looking little donkey. The two leading watchmen also carried lamps. On the
cart was a cage, and in the cage were two bodies. Arjun felt joy rise in him,
then a red wrath at the men escorting the wagon.

The men themselves looked weary, and sleepy. They were
caught by surprise at the madman who leapt out of the shadows in their midst.
That surprise turned to shock as Arjun’s charge sent one of the lamp-bearers
flying, and Arjun’s sword gutted the other. Both lamps clattered to the ground
and went out. The other four readied weapons and advanced, eyes adjusting to
the sudden darkness. However, their enemy was nowhere to be seen.

Arjun slipped under the cart, darted forward, slashed
across the leg of one man, and thrust his sword behind the knee of another,
then darted out the other side as the remaining two active men, a guard and a
watchman, wheeled. Arjun moved toward the front of the cart in the dark, but
silently made Words of Opening directed at the warded and chained grating at
the back of the cage. There was a cracking sound, and as the guards moved to
look, Arjun slipped behind them and put his sword through the spine of one,
aimed a tripping kick at the other, and then wheeled forward to put his sword
through the man’s cheek and into his head.

As he did so, he felt agony as a spear pierced his
flesh along his ribs. He’d forgotten the first lamp-bearer, the one he’d sent
flying! Arjun hopped forward and spun, raising his sword to deflect the
oncoming spear tip. He skittered back again, and stood up. The watchman yelled
for help, though none seemed around, and then jabbed his spear forward again at
Arjun. The latter dodged, and did something unexpected. He grabbed the spear
with his free hand, and gouts of flame incinerated the wooden shaft. For an
instant, the man stood in dumb shock looking at what had happened. In that
instant, Arjun closed on him, and ended his life with a stab to the throat. He
then advanced on the two men with ruined legs, who were screaming for more
guards through their own pain, and trying to limp away. Arjun cut them down
without pity.

He turned back to the cart, where there was motion.
Inside was Lurshiga, who was now sitting up, with many bruises on her shoulders
and arms, and the mark of a whip across her face. The wound had left a deep
cut, and dried blood was encrusted wherever she hadn’t managed to wipe it away.

“Arjun! My sweet,” she said weakly, “come here, help
me get Inina.”

He climbed up, dread in his heart, and it sank at what
he saw.

“My boy, don’t look, just help…” pleaded Inina.

Inina’s body was a mass of hideous black bruises, some
bearing the marks of hobnails from guardsman’s boots. She had whip marks on her
back. Her face was bloody and swollen.

Arjun reeled, he fell against the cold metal bars of
the cage. Lurshiga’s hand, weaker than he’d ever felt it, gripped his arm.

“She’s alive… We just need to get her out of here NOW,
Arjun!”

He gripped his mind, forced his body under control,
and reached into the little bag at his waist, and pulled out a bronze vial. He
opened it, and poured a reddish liquid, faintly glowing with magic, into
Inina’s mouth. Lurshiga looked at him in surprise, then comprehension. Inina
swallowed, then gulped and gasped. Her eyes opened, then shut as she lost
consciousness again. He and Lurshiga moved her out of the cage, then he
gathered her in his arms and set out for an alley. As they walked, he looked
around, and saw terrified faces peeking from one or two windows.  He knew too
that after all that noise, guards would be on their way.