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Authors: Glen Cook

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BOOK: Cold Copper Tears
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We reached the dining hall without incident. It wasn’t locked. Morley muttered something about moving too slow, that sooner or later there was going to be a change of guard at the gate and an alarm would sound.

I tried to hurry the nun.

 

 

48

 

The nun seemed a little old for clandestine assignations. I guessed she had fifteen years on me. But maybe we never get tired of the great game.

“There’ll be a guard,” Morley whispered. “Let me go first.”

I didn’t argue. He was better at that sort of thing. “Don’t cut him if you don’t have to.”

“Right.” He went down the stair like a ghost. It wasn’t a minute before he called up, “Clear.” I herded the nun down. Morley waited at the bottom. “I’ll watch her. Get the girl.”

Thoughtful of him.

The guard slumped on a stool in front of a massive oak door strapped with iron, hung on huge hinges. There was no opening in it. It was secured by a wooden peg through a hasp. Effective enough, I guessed.

I touched the guard’s throat. His pulse was ragged but it was there. Good for Morley. I opened the door, and saw nothing but darkness. I used the guard’s lamp to give me light.

I found Maya curled in a corner on burlap sacks, asleep, filthy. The dirt on her face had been streaked by tears. I dropped to my knees, placed a hand over her mouth, and shook her. “Wake up.”

She started violently, almost broke loose. “Don’t say a word till we get home. Especially don’t name any names. Understand?”

She nodded.

“Promise?”

She nodded again.

“All right. We’re going out. We’ll collect Jill, then run like hell. We don’t want these people to know who we are.”

“I got it, Garrett. Don’t pound it in with a hammer.”

“You think somebody just heard you? Maybe somebody we forced to show us where you were? Somebody we’d have to kill so they won’t repeat it?”

She got a little pale. Good. “Come on.”

I stepped out and told Morley, “I got her. Watch her while I put this guy away.” The nun didn’t look like she’d heard anything.

I dragged the guard inside, stepped out and shoved the peg home, then told the nun, “Lead on to the guest house.”

She led on. Maya kept her mouth shut. Some notion of the stakes had gotten through.

There were lights on the second floor of the guest house, a cozy two-story limestone cottage of about eight rooms. Morley checked for guards. I watched the women. “Just a few minutes more,” I promised the nun.

She shook. She thought her minutes were numbered. I kept on with the dialectic of nihilism, filling her with arrows pointing at the Sons of Hammon. I wouldn’t let Morley do what he’d want to do after we used her up. I wanted one live, primed witness left behind. I wanted the Orthodox Holy Fathers to foam at the mouth when they thought of the Sons.

The trouble was, there would be some right to Morley’s argument. The nun had had too many chances to get a good look at us.

Maya caught on. She put on a damned good act, pretending to be terrified. She kept whispering tales about her previous stay with the Sons of Hammon.

Maya knew most everything I did. She was able to lay it on thick.

Morley came back. “Guards front and back. One for each door.” “Any problem?” “Not anymore. They weren’t very alert.”

I grunted. “Let’s go,” I told the women. “Sister, behave for a couple more minutes and you’re free.”

We’d gone maybe fifty feet toward the house when Morley said, “There it is.”

“It” was the alarm we’d anticipated.

Bells rang and horns blew. Signal lights and balls of fire arced through the night. “They do get excited, don’t they?” I grabbed the nun’s habit to make sure she didn’t stray.

We stepped over a guard. The door he’d watched was locked but the top half was a leaded glass window, Terrell with a halo. I bashed it in and lifted the inner bar. We shoved inside. I said, “Put her to sleep.” Morley slugged the nun behind the ear. He understood what I was doing.

Someone shouted a question downstairs. A man. I started up. Morley was right behind me. Maya was behind him, armed with a knife she’d taken off the guard as soon as the nun went down.

The hurrah outside got louder.

The stairs took a right angle turn at a landing twelve steps up. A man in a nightshirt met me there. He made a noise that sounded like, “Gorki”

“Not me, brother.”

He was the guy I’d seen at the talk-talk place, the little gink with the nose. I grabbed him by the back of the nightshirt before he could run for it. I softened him up with my stick and shoved him at Morley. “Bonus prize.”

Morley grabbed him. I went on. Maya followed me.

That Jill was a quick mover. When I charged in she had a window open and was shoving a leg through. It wasn’t wide enough for a fast exit. I got to her while she was still trying to scrunch up small enough to fit. I grabbed an arm and pulled. She popped out like a cork. “Anybody’d think you weren’t thrilled to see me. After all the trouble I’ve gone through to rescue you.”

She regained her balance and dignity, then gave me a lethal look. “You’ve got no right.”

I grinned. “Maybe not. But here I am. And there you are. And here we go. You’ve got one minute to get dressed. You’re not ready then, you take it through the streets like that.”

The proverbial jaybird wore more than she had on. I couldn’t help admiring the landscape. Maya said, “Put your eyes back in, Garrett. You’ll have me suspecting you of immoral thoughts.”

“The gods forefend. Jill?”

Maya moved between Jill and the window. I gave her an approving smile and retreated to the door to check Morley and the bald gink. “We’ve got her. She’s got to get dressed.”

“Don’t waste time. The whole place is awake.”

“Speaking of. See if you can wake him up. He’s going with us.”

Morley scowled.

“If anybody knows the answers, he does.”

“If you say so. Find something we can put on him. Can’t drag him around like this.”

I looked around. The little man’s clothes were on a chair, neatly folded. Jill was almost ready. She hadn’t bothered with underwear. Maya was giving her some song and dance about us telling the nun that she’d been sent ahead to soften up the little guy for the grabbing. I raised an eyebrow, then winked. The girl could think on her feet.

I said, “Jill, carry your friend’s clothes. He’s going with us.”

“I’m sorry I ever came to you.”

“So am I, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

We stepped out of the room, me first, Maya last and brandishing her knife. She was having fun.

Morley had the little guy organized enough to stumble along. They were halfway down the stair. We caught up at the bottom. Morley said, “We’d better head for the nearest fence.”

“Right.” Though that would put us on the side of the Dream Quarter farthest from where I wanted to be.

We went out the door we’d entered. It faced the center of the grounds. There was all kinds of excitement over there. Some was moving our way fast.

Morley came up with a piece of cord. He slipped a loop around the little man’s neck. “One peep and I choke you. We didn’t come after you so we won’t be brokenhearted if we kill you. Got me?”

The little man nodded.

Morley headed due south. Maya and I followed with Jill between us. Maya threatened to stab Jill in the behind if she didn’t move faster.

She was having a good time.

I’d like to turn the whole thing into high drama with harrowing near misses, ferocious battles with fanatic priests, and a skin-of-the-teeth getaway when all seemed lost, but it didn’t work that way. We never came close to getting caught. A dozen priests with torches thundered up to the house as we fled, but they didn’t see us. We were at the enclosure wall, with Morley and Maya and Jill and the little gink perched on top and me reaching for Morley’s hand, before the gang charged out of the house again. We were gone before they found a trail.

We got ourselves lost in the alleys of the industrial district south of the Dream Quarter and made the little guy get dressed. He didn’t have much to say. No threats, no bluster. Once he’d taken stock he remained calm, silent, and cooperative.

We spent the rest of the night working around the Dream Quarter the long way, out to the western parts of the city, beyond the Hill, then back down to my place. I was damned tired when home hove into view.

I was pleased with myself, too. I’d pulled off a grand stunt and it’d proven easier than I’d expected. The raid on Chattaree hadn’t been necessary. I still had all my little bottles in my pockets.

 

 

49

 

There was a problem. The Watch had the house surrounded. And it was light out. There’d be no sneaking past them.

We hadn’t talked much but I’d mentioned my notion of getting Jill and Warden Agire together with the Dead Man. The little guy had proven to be exactly whom I’d suspected. I’d gotten that from Jill, not him. She’d been the one to try bluster, dropping his name. It hadn’t done her any good.

Morley said, “What now, genius? Want to hide them out at my place?’’

“We’ll get in. We just need a distraction.”

“Better come up with it quick. Five of us hanging around is going to catch somebody’s eye.”

“Right. Maya. Could I buy a little help from the Doom?”

She was surprised. “What kind?”

“Like maybe have Tey run to the door and tell Dean to tell the Dead Man we’re out here. Better, have her send one of the young ones. They wouldn’t do anything to a kid.”

“All right.” She sounded doubtful but she trotted off.

Those Watchmen were on their best behavior. TunFaire is a funny city some ways. One way is a popular determination to protect the common-law sanctity of the home. Our worst tyrants haven’t dared overstep people’s rights within their homes. An invasion of a home without a lot of legal due process will stir up a riot quick. People will put up with almost anything else but will shed blood in an instant over their right to retreat into and remain inviolate within their castles. It’s odd.

Those Watchmen would be under close scrutiny and they would be intensely aware of it. The whole neighborhood might come boiling out if they made a wrong move.

So there was a good chance an unknown could stroll right to my door without interference. They might try a grab once they saw where the messenger was headed but I was sure Dean would be alert. Once the messenger got inside there’d be nothing the Watch could do.

Maya wasn’t gone long. She looked bleak when she came back.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I had to pay a price.”

She was upset. I took her hand without knowing why. She squeezed hard. “Tell me about it.”

“You got what you need. They’re sending a girl. But she made me pay.”

Oh-oh. I had a feeling Maya had given more than she should have. “What?”

“I had to step out. Leave the Doom. Give her war-chief.”

“Maya! We could’ve worked something else out.”

“It’s all right. You said it. I’m getting too old. It’s time I grew up.”

It was all true, but I felt guilty because she’d done it for me, not for her.

They sent the ragamuffin in a gunnysack who let me in that time I visited Maya. Tey would make a deadly warchief. That kid was perfect. Every one of those Watchmen stared and thought filthy, shameful thoughts, and not one considered interfering until she pounded on the door. By the time somebody reacted she was making her pitch to Dean.

Dean let her in.

Morley muttered, “That kid is a witch.” He’d felt it, too.

I said, “Some are at that age. Even when they don’t know what they’re doing.”

“She knows,” Maya said. “She is a witch. She’ll own the Doom before she’s sixteen.”

The Watchmen snapped to attention. I felt the lightest touch from the Dead Man as they presented arms. “Time to go, kids.” Jill and Agire balked.

Agire refused to move. Morley cured that with a quick kick to the foundation of his dignity. Jill wanted to yell. Maya laid a roundhouse on her nose. “That’s for the way Garrett looked at you.”

“Take it easy.” I knew she was spending her disappointment.

“Sorry.” She didn’t mean it and apologized to me instead of Jill. I let it slide. Jill had decided to cooperate.

We walked over to the house. Near as I could tell the Watchmen didn’t see us. Dean let us in, croggled by the numbers. I told him, “Breakfast for all. In with his nibs.”

“Not me,” Morley said. “I did my part. You have it under control. I have to see if there’s anything left of my place.”

I thought he was in an awful hurry but I didn’t argue. He’d done his share and hadn’t tried to hit me with an inflated fee. He had something on his mind. I didn’t want to interrupt.

Dean let him out after I had Jill and Agire installed with the Dead Man. Jill was frightened. Agire was terrified. He clung to self-control by concentrating on offenses to his dignity.

I trust there is some significance to the presence of these people,
the Dead Man thought at me.

“Yep. How’d it go with the civil servants?”

They kept losing track of what they were doing and wandered off to drink beer or indulge other vices.

“What about those Watchmen? They going to call down the wrath of the Hill?”

They believe one of the stormwardens just went past. Once Mr. Dotes is out of sight they will return to their duties unaware that anyone has come or gone.

The little witch from the Doom was gone, too. I hadn’t seen her go. Dean must have planted her in the front parlor, then hustled her out behind me.

These two?
the Dead Man reminded me.

I made the introductions and suggested we might tie things up if he’d help out for a few minutes. He could, after all, plunder their minds if he wanted.

He astounded me by agreeing without being bullied. He went after Agire first. The Warden let out a squeal of panic. He yelled, “You have no right! What’s going on is none of your business.”

“Wrong. I have two paying clients and a personal interest. A friend of mine got caught in your game. It killed him. One of my clients died, too. Magister Peridont. Heard of him? His death doesn’t end the commitment. And my other client is too damned nasty to walk out on. His name is Chodo Contague. He took offense at the Sons of Hammon. He’s after scalps. If you know anything about him, you know you don’t want to get on his bad side.”

BOOK: Cold Copper Tears
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