Fallen Blade 04 - Blade Reforged (10 page)

This unprecedented reward created the possibility of someone cutting purses in the
alleys of the stumbles one day and sitting down to dinner with the great families
of the realm the next. And while
I
might not see all that much of a difference between your gutter criminal and any
high noble, I was pretty sure that wasn’t how the peers of the realm viewed things.

Before the buzz could grow into a roar, the Lord Justicer held up both hands. “Citizens
of Zhan, allow me to finish before you make any decisions. The Baroness Marchon is
the only name on my list.” That brought a bit of quiet, though it didn’t erase the
angry glares. “Further, the king believes that the sorcerer-baroness used magic most
foul to charm and compel the participation of many of those displayed here.” He gestured
over his shoulder at the nailed-up heads and was answered with a sort of low growl
from the crowd.

He continued nonetheless. “While it is possible that some among the nobility joined
the sorceress’s plot of their own free will, the Crown feels that there is no way
to know that for certain. Therefore, though the only possible punishment for rising
in arms against His Most Royal Majesty is a traitor’s death, the Crown will not be
levying any further penalties against the houses and heirs of the traitors here displayed.
Nor will it take any actions in regard to the normal course of succession to the titles
of the condemned.”

A moment later a familiar voice whispered, “Clever” in my ear, and I did my best not
to jump half out of my skin. “That might do it.”

“Hello, Scheroc. How are you?” I asked while I looked around for Captain Fei—the little
air spirit’s bond-mate.

I missed seeing her the first time my eyes flicked across the place where she was
standing, mostly because she was out of uniform. I might have missed her a second
time, too, if not for the matching scars on her cheeks. One pale stripe was twenty
years old, the other only eight months and
probably a goodly part of why she’d agreed to help us get rid of Thauvik. Fei had
chosen to hold up a piece of wall just to the left of a small alley that lay maybe
twenty or so yards around the back of the square from me. I’d checked the spot out
myself, but passed on by because of all the yellow and black uniforms hanging out
in the depths—the city watch swarming among the trash-strewn depths every bit as ominously
as the huge wasps they resembled. But, of course, the “Stingers” would leave Fei alone.

Not only were her officers officially a part of the same organization, but they mostly
scared the liver out of their fellows. The Silent Branch, or the “Mufflers,” as they
were more commonly known, had the equivalent of a letter of marque from the powers
of the city. Their job was to see that things stayed quiet in Tien. If that meant
that the occasional regular officer of the watch ended up facedown in an alley for
making too much noise, well, there were plenty of new recruits ready to sign on to
replace ’em.

Once I made eye contact with Fei, she headed my way. The Lord Justicer had finished
speaking and now the noble section of the crowd was beginning to follow the commoners
out of the square.

“What do you think?” Fei asked me as she got close enough to speak quietly.

“Too many ears around here. Let’s walk.”

“Good plan. I’ll meet you at the intersection where the Last Walk runs into Sailmaker’s
Street.” She jerked her chin toward the road that led from the traitor’s gate to the
Smokeyard, where the Crown held those sentenced to the block or the stake.

When I cocked an eyebrow at that she said, “There’s Stingers in every alley here and
I’d rather not have too many of them see me with someone who looks like you do right
now.”

I nodded sullenly as though I’d just been told to move along and started walking fast
toward Render’s Way, while Fei sauntered up the Last Walk. I needed to cover eight
blocks for her five. When I finally caught up to her, she’d
pulled up the hood of her street clothes, making it much harder to spot those scars.

I fell in beside her and tugged at the lip of my own cowl. “We make a fine pair at
the moment, you and I. Someone’s going to mistake us for a couple of our betters.”

“You, maybe. But there’s not a noble alive that would be caught dead in this rag.”
She shrugged the shoulders of her patched and worn wool cloak, and I had to agree.
“Speaking of which, are you wearing what I think you’re wearing?”

“I am.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little risky?”

“Not really. The world believes that my kind died out almost a decade ago. Besides,
we were always more legend than reality for most—a few hundred half-mythical shadows
hiding amongst the untold millions who people the eleven kingdoms. In the old days
the goddess twisted the tongues of those who would have described us in more than
the sketchiest of detail, just as she blurred the memories of any artist who tried
to draw one of us.”

“So, you’re a ghost?” Fei sounded more than a little skeptical.

“In more ways than you can really imagine, yes.”

We’re not quite dead yet,
Triss whispered into my mind.

Not completely anyway.

Fei shrugged. “Good thing I’m not frightened by ghosts then. So, now that the ears
are fewer, what did you think of Lord Vyan’s little speech back there?”

“Smart. Very, very smart,” I answered. “Show them the naked blade in the form of that
line of noble heads, place the blame squarely on Maylien, then offer up the candy
of no further reprisals. I’m actually surprised that Thauvik was able to restrain
his tendency to spill blood long enough to make it happen.”

“Oh, I’m sure the king reserves the right to add more heads to the wall as the whim
takes him. I’ll be downright shocked if the first of those doesn’t go up within the
week. The king has mostly avoided indulging his more violent impulses among the peers,
but I know for a fact there’s at
least a double dozen more noble heads he’d love to see off the shoulders that currently
support them.”

“How do you know that?”

Fei smiled. “The wind blows many tales to ears that are ready to hear them.”

Scheroc, then—the qamasiin sure came in handy for its bond-mate. “Has the wind blown
you any whispers about a link between Thauvik and the Son of Heaven?”

“No. Should it have?”

“Possibly. I wasn’t the only shadow behind a chair at the Council of Jade.”

“Another Blade?” she asked, and I nodded. “And, that would imply a connection with
the Son of Heaven how? Wasn’t your friend Devin planning to replace Thauvik with Maylien’s
older sister?”

“He’s not my friend, though he was once, and…it’s complicated.”

“So, buy me a drink and tell me about it. I’ve a few complicated things of my own
that I need to share with you.”

“Spinnerfish?” I asked.

Fei shook her head. “No, Erk would keep anyone from actually listening in or interfering
with us, but his doors are open to everyone. At times like these that means spies
holding down a lot of the chairs out front. There’s no way we could get in and out
without someone marking who I was, that I was out of uniform, and getting a very good
description of who I was there with. I presume after all the trouble you went through
to erase your old face, you’d rather not have this one showing up in anyone’s official
reports.”

“All right. Where then?”

“I’m not sure. We could buy a flask and keep walking. That’s got its plusses by way
of making it very hard to listen in, but the longer we stay out in the open, the better
the chance of someone spotting me and sniffing along behind, playing the hound.”

“That or trying to eavesdrop mage-style,” I said.

“Wouldn’t do them much good. I’ve got a really nasty little drum-ringer in my pocket.
Anyone tries to cock a
magic ear our way is going to hear bells loud enough to half deafen ’em.”

“Mine’s a subtler version, it garbles as much as it drowns out. I’ve an oil-smear
to foil eyespys as well, and a compass bender to prevent findings and mappings.” There
was a reason my Blade’s vest had so many little inner pockets. “I presume you’re carrying
similar toys, but the mere fact that we’re both loaded with blinds and countercharms
is going to tell any mage-nosed hound things I’d rather they didn’t know. How about
you?”

Fei shrugged. “I don’t think it’s any secret I prefer muffler business stay as quiet
as I try to keep the city, but the fewer people who know how much magic I carry the
better. Do you have a thought?”

I nodded. “I think so. I know a very quiet spot, if you don’t mind putting off our
chat till nightfall.”

“I have things that need doing, so that works for me.”

“I’ll have to check in with the…proprietor—to make sure it’s all right. Meet me on
Sanjin Island’s north bridge an hour after sunset. If things are good, we can walk
from there. If not, we’ll have to come up with another plan. Hire a sampan maybe.”

“Oh yeah, that’d be great fun, out on the river playing tag with the customs boats.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

“You really know how to reassure a girl,” said Fei. “See you then.”

As Fei turned and walked away Triss sent,
Harad?

There’s nowhere quieter than a library.

Do you think he’ll go for it?

Only one way to find out.

The Ismere Library was a private facility associated with the club of the same name.
Both were founded several hundred years earlier by a Kadeshi-born merchant who had
wanted to put a sheen of legitimacy on a family name whose fortune had its roots as
much in smuggling and banditry as legitimate trade. The effort had taken several generations,
but the fact that yesterday’s Council of Jade survivor’s list
had included the name Nasima Dan Ismere, Countess of Zien said all that needed to
be said about its success.

Harad, another Kadeshi who had headed south looking for a better life, was the master
librarian of the Ismere, and one of my few real friends. He was also one of the most
powerful sorcerers I’d ever met, a teacher at the Temple of Namara well before my
birth, and personally older than the Pridu dynasty. As usual, I entered via a long
jump from roof to roof and a drop from there onto a third floor balcony.

When I landed, the wards flared so faintly I wouldn’t have even noticed them if Harad
hadn’t shown them to me the day he set them up to fry any Blade who wasn’t me. He’d
since changed them to allow Faran to come and go as well, but she was the only other
exception. I found Harad himself wandering in a row of shelves on the second floor,
setting the day’s misplacements to rights. I waited for him to finish the row before
clearing my throat to draw his attention—not that I made the mistake of believing
he didn’t know exactly where I was.

“Hello, Aral. It has been some months, and I expected to see you sooner. Did your
trip to the south not go well?”

“Better than I feared, worse than I hoped.”

“The very story of life. Young Triss?”

My familiar shaped himself into a dragon’s shadow on the floor between us and bobbed
his long neck in a bow. “Most honored Master Harad. It is good to see you.”

The librarian smiled at Triss’s use of the greeting normally reserved for a senior
Blade. “I share the pleasure,
Resshath
Triss.” He glanced at me. “Where is your apprentice Faran? I trust that she is well.”

“Not as well as I’d like. She took a serious injury in our business to the south,
a blow to the head that very nearly cost her an eye. She’s staying with friends while
she recovers.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Harad shook his head sadly. “I quite like the child. What
do the healers say?”

“That they hope she will regain her sight and that the headaches will fade, but that
they are not at all certain.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” He frowned for several
long seconds before finally nodding and saying, “I think that
would
be best. Bring her to me. I do not generally involve myself in business beyond the
bounds of my library these days, and it has been a good two centuries since I last
seriously practiced the healing arts, but I think I must make an exception here. Yes,
bring her to me.” He made a scooting motion.

“She’s in Dalridia,” I said.

“Then fetch her back. I have resources not available to the general run of healers,
I may be able to do things for her that they could not.”

“I appreciate the offer and the sentiment, Harad. And, I promise that if I live through
the next few weeks that I will go and get her for you, but there’s nothing I can do
about it right this moment.”

Harad peered skeptically down his long nose at me.

“It’s true,” said Triss. “If we leave the city now, many lives that might otherwise
have been saved may be lost.”

“I take it then that you are involved in the forthcoming civil war?” he asked, not
at all happily. “On the Marchon girl’s side as you were against her sister?” I nodded.
“I suppose that does take precedence then, but I absolutely will not accept the idea
that you dying should interfere with me doing what I can for Faran. That’s just sloppy
thinking on your part, Aral, and shows no consideration from properly arranging your
affairs to deal with the high risks of your profession. I want your promise that you
will send a message to Faran telling her that she must come visit me.”

“In the middle of that forthcoming civil war you mentioned?” I asked, though my voice
sounded weak even to me.

“If necessary, yes. Don’t tell me that she couldn’t slip in to see me without either
side ever catching sight of her. I know her better than that.”

Triss hissed sharply and interjected, “Then you ought to know her well enough to know
that the only way to keep her out of that war, injury or no, is to prevent her from
hearing of Aral’s involvement before it’s wrapped up.”

“You may have a point there. All right. Then you must
promise to arrange to have a message sent after the war in the event of your death.”