I Know Not (The Story of Fox Crow) (19 page)

BOOK: I Know Not (The Story of Fox Crow)
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      My first clue was the sharpening of his eyes, the clearness of his voice as rage poured through him, “I am no traitor.”

      While I was holding O’Loinsigh’s right hand to keep him from attacking, it very suddenly became clear that he was left handed. The dagger came out of nowhere, sweeping across my vulnerable belly. Instinctively I recoiled even though I tried to grip his neck tighter as he slipped out of my left hand. He hit the floor hard but bounced to his feet unsteadily, giving me plenty of time to return try something else. I leapt away, sweeping a thick curtain of blankets from his bed over his head and using the momentary confusion to break his nose with a vicious kick. He collapsed immediately, dropping his dagger.

      I swept the knife under the bed and watched him closely but he lay still, allowing me to sit for a moment. Say what you want, but scaling a building, hanging from a roof, gaining entry to a building and then wrestling with a drunk is enough of a night for anyone. Now all I had to do was drag him somewhere his screams would not be heard, let him sober up, and break fingers until he told me who had bribed him to distract his own men.

      I shook my head, walked over to the table, and searched for a bottle that had more liquor than backwash in it. That’s when I that the leather covered jug in the middle of the table was not a jug, but a pouch, stuffed so full it sat upright. With trembling hands, I opened the drawstrings and released the contents to glint in the light. It was a fine scrip, made with several internal pouches for bits of copper or silver, but instead of whatever kind of bric-a-brac the center chamber of the leather vessel was meant to hold, there were instead golden coins.

      “You are a man after my own heart, Captain.” Each coin was thin but heavy, and bent easily to the tooth, testifying to the content of pure gold. “You were expensively bought.“

      But there was something off… I brought forth a fresh coin and examined the edges, experimented with the minting marks and held the gold up to the light so it could catch every sparkle cast by the candles. It brought a chill to my skin as I saw every perfection on every gold coin.

      The whole bundle disappeared into my oversized belt pouch next to a dozen bits of equipment and I turned to the still recumbent and blanketed form of O’Loinsigh.

      “I know who paid you, Captain.” I jostled him with one boot but he lay without twitching. “The game is mine, Captain, get up and I can get you to a place of safety.”

      I kicked him lightly, and then not so lightly, to the same effect. I drew my short sword with my off hand, but he did not move. I felt my scalp prickle and I planted my heel on the thumbnail of his exposed hand. In seconds, I was pressing with my whole weight and getting no response. That’s when I used the tip of the sword to flip the blankets aside to expose his pale face and the explosion of blood leaking from his throat.

      I opened the turncoat Right hand, the hand that had tried to stop him from falling back even as I pulled away from his dagger, the hand I could not use to draw the sword because it was the hand with the finger with the damned ring blade on it. It was just a small nick, but the artery was large and the blood thinned from excessive drink. Now, he only link to the person trying to have Aelia killed was also dead. And I was willing to bet that my escapades on the roof had not been forgotten, but instead were creeping through diplomatic apparatus like caustic chemicals in an alchemist’s lab.

      I had to find a connection that couldn’t be dismissed due to rank or station. Failing that, I needed Aelia to send me after the man with the money. Or even whoever controlled the assassins. A sharp knife in the dark would solve-

      Pain exploded across my back, a lifetime of lashes compressed into a few minutes. I could only make a strangled cry and fall to the floor. My limbs trembled. My vision blurred. It felt like venomous insects crawled underneath my skin, pulling out chunks of skin from the inside, hollowing me out into a bag of useless flesh.

      Fists of agony pounded me again and again, dropping me to the floor where darkness leapt on me like a predator.

      The world was in color, bolder and richer than I had ever seen. Every splinter and stain of the run down room gained a beautiful random life of their own. Everything seemed to fit into a master puzzle I could only guess at, where this rats nest of an inn was so squalid not because of abuse or neglect, but because it was in its very nature. It could not be anything else, but perhaps it could be more… I lifted my head from the floor to stare at a cloaked angel standing above me.

      I had always known he was there.

      Something began to scrape my heart with veins of frost as the figure raised his arms. Two hands, carved of aged alabaster, emerged from within the robe woven of webs and night. He held a crooked staff topped by a regal raven in his right hand, carved of ebon wood so pitted and worm–eaten it seemed to wither and crumble in his grasp. His left held the most powerful weapon I had ever be held. Easily ransomed for a king’s crown, the gold and ruby blazed in the shape of a lidless eye. Set in a golden lattice of razor sharp metal, every time I judged I had the hilt marked, the precise method to wield it escaped my grasp. He seemed offering the statuettes to me, waiting with the patience of one who has no life left to trickle through the hourglass. Power. Secrets. Wealth. I reached for the eye–

      And the door to the room smashed open. Corpses, dressed in rags, piled in with hands clasping poisoned blades. Chained to the floor by thick links bolted to my back, I had nowhere to run as they piled upon me, teeth flashing black and rotten.

      I awoke too frightened to scream. Then the room swam into focus, a plain place of dirt and desolation. I shook off the vision, or at least pushed it back into the fog. The pain didn’t stop. Not really. It just started to fade until it was tolerable. I sat up, tears and snot streaming off my face into my lap. It faded further and further, but it never went completely away, never. For all I knew it would always be there, a phantom agony waiting to pounce and torment me forever. It had kept me prisoner until morning, and if the man at my feet was not a wanted criminal I would be in a lot of trouble trying to explain his unlawful exsanguination.

      But right now I needed a way to get back to Aelia and convince the other nobles that I had sat all night on the roof, and caught an assassin, because I am a hero, not a scoundrel. After all, in a dragon’s cave you will find dragons, but also you will find knights. The Captain would help greatly to that end. Then I remembered that O’Loinsigh was dead.

      But I also remembered a head was easier to carry than a body.

 

 

12 

     

The Missing Pieces

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The jugglers, musicians, and acrobats looked quite entertaining. The bear baiter was a bit much. Moreover every bodyguard in the room watched the bear intently, perfectly willing - the only question was able - to turn the damn thing into a rug the instant it twitched toward the nobles sitting behind the feast tables.

      I strode into the great hall without fanfare, or much in the way of cleaning. I had the look of a man who had ridden far and wide in a short amount of time. In fact I had gone to a dry patch of dust in a back alley and splashed my clothes to make sure that’s just what I looked like. Once the damned bear and his owner cleared the way I pushed past the next series of acts, the functionary trying to keep everyone in line, and the two guards at the entrance to the makeshift stage and stood at the center.

      The murmurs of the great and the good pattered on the ground like the last lingering moments of a contrarian rain. As their disapproving stares grew in intensity, I stiffly went to one knee before them. Horatio left me there for a good, long time before he recognized me, “Ah, the rooftop bodyguard. Why have you interrupted our entertainment?”

      People starving, barbarians sacking and burning farms, nobles dropping like flies, and he’s worried about delaying his entertainment
. By way of answer, I walked to the front of his place - causing all four of his bodyguards to coil for attack. I pretended not to notice and I sat the tied bundle of blankets on the table. I said, “Your Grand Lordship: A gift from your cousin Aelia Conaill, Grand Duchess of Conaill.”

      I left without being dismissed. I smiled only a little when I passed by the doors to the corridor beyond, for the great hall behind me erupted into exclamations of all kinds as Horatio unwrapped O’Loinsigh’s head. By the time I made it back to the apartment, a warm glow was growing inside my chest. The idea of shocking a room full of blue bloods and especially laying the head of his traitor at the feet of his employer, brought a smile that filled me from beard to boot leather. I passed Jon on guard duty on my way into Aelia’s suite. He started to say something, but a raised hand stopped him. Fine, the fact that that raised hand was covered in Captain’s blood may have stopped him more than the hand, but he shut up and that’s what mattered.

      I was delighted to find a basin of lukewarm water on my dresser, and aghast I had left the door unfastened so that any random functionary could gain entrance. It was unlike me. So unlike me I checked every fingerlength of the room, then I sniffed the water but detected no traps or poisons. Still, the nagging voices that echoed out of the fog spurred me to toss out the contents and go fetch fresh myself from the kitchens. Each time I passed Jon he acted like a puppy with the bladder of a mouse. I made it a special note to stop him from talking to me each time.

      It wasn’t mean. Not really. I just had enough on my mind and now I just had to figure out the next step.

      Once again ensconced in the safety of my room I carefully removed the heavy weight of gold from inside my shirt, as well as a dozen means of stealthy death. I stripped down and washed down, careful of the old wound that must lay, buzzing, across my upper back. The skin felt slightly textured, but otherwise unbroken. I pushed thoughts of the malady aside, however, because the auction would begin in four days. Four days was a long time with a price on one’s head. Before one more poxy bastard was allowed to try to kill me, I was going to eat like a noble and then sleep like a child. I pulled on warm clothing across my damp skin and fastened only three blades to various locations - practically going naked - as I strode out into the common area, right into Theo who was sitting at the table, eating thick stew with gusto.

      I exclaimed wordlessly as he came to his feet and he embraced me like a brother. I felt a cold shock as he touched me, but then relaxed and embraced him back, feeling nascent tears press at the back of my eyes. I held him at arm’s length and stared at him up and down, finding no hurt nor malady. But then a doubt, “Godwin?”

      “Still abed. He’s been denying himself sleep, making himself sick with guilt that we killed the first set of horses.” He smiled as he ladled out stew into a bowl for me.

      I accepted it gratefully and set to it, “One set, I would think both. you are back far earlier than any could have hoped.”

      “Captain Roehm had decided it had been too long without word, and started toward Carolaughan with a hundred men. We met him on the road and joined him for the return trip.”

      Another army outside the gates, just what we needed
, I thought on one hand, but at the same time a great, crushing weight was lifted from my shoulders. Well, a few weights: Theo and Godwin were safe, and suddenly I wasn’t solely - or at least mostly solely - responsible for the good lady’s safety anymore. I was suddenly very cheery, “Well one thing’s for certain, you’re assured of a promotion after this. Bravery in the field and... and.. and why are you making that face?”

      And it was true: Blessed with the talent for concealment reserved for particularly naive nuns and surpassed in dissembly by toddlers, his face had twisted around his mouth as if he were chewing on bitter herbs, or perhaps bitter words. He sat there for a moment, trying to contain himself until I arched my eyebrow, the tiniest of actions that pushed him over the cliff, “I’m being punished.”

      I nearly gagged on a mouthful of stew, “Punished? For Gods’ sakes why?”

      “Three month’s pay gone.” Godwin’s sulky voice slopped over my shoulder, “For leaving the Grand Lady Aelia in your care. Your care.”

      I don’t know if he meant to repeat that as a way to underscore my part in Theodemar’s newfound poverty, or if he repeated it because he repeats everything, but Godwin stared at me in a distinctly unfriendly manner when he came an joined us. I shook my head, willing my ears to leave me and go get a pair that would do the job properly. I dredged up all my wit and witticism to blurt, “What?”

      Godwin got his own bowl of stew and picked at it as if it were made of horse meat, “He was the ranking man, his responsibility to stay, to stay here with her. Here with her.”

     
Another problem. Fine
. I mentally ticked off how severe a beating I would hand out for this transgression against Theo, “On who’s authority?”

      “Captain Roehm.” Theo said. “He lead the party himself.”

      I smoldered in my seat, and suddenly Theodemar wasn’t quite as hungry, “Have I taught you boys nothing? Question everything. Question everyone. There is nobody looking out for you but you, and everyone, including and especially the nobles, will use you as a cobble stone rather than twist an ankle. You must look more deeply!”

      And both boys stared at me like I had gone insane. Quite possibly I had, speaking so much bold truth to them so blatantly. I slapped Theo on the back and motioned for him to take another serving. “Eat. You too, Godwin. This is my mess and I will address it one way or another.”

      Theo smiled weakly and went back to eating, but Godwin’s smirk had more than a dash of nasty to it. “You will address it, will you? I’m sure. Sure.”

      I had ordered him to ride one of his prize horses to death, and so I suppose it was inevitable that Godwin was to be slightly peeved. I would have to talk to him about it later. That, or slap him until he saw things my way. Still, punishment meant authority, and that meant a new commanding officer in residence. “The Captain: What kind of man is he?”

      “Old and pressed.” Said Godwin. “Old.”

      “Unforgiving.” Said Theo.

      “Fond of his rules.” Said Godwin. “Rules.”

      “Strangely enough, he wasn’t a soldier until after the Grand Duke died.” Said Theo.

      “Was his personal bodyguard since birth.” Godwin spooned a hunk of beef into his mouth and spoke around it, “After he was assassinated Aelia made him commander of the house guard. Commander.”

      And then she left him behind. That’s telling. Telling what, precisely, I cannot say
. “I will make him see reason.”

      Theo reached across the table and caught my spoon hand midway to my mouth, “Do not tangle with him, Crow. He has killed more men than the pox.”

      Normally when people say things like ‘He’s killed more men than the pox.’ it is a rhetorical flourish, a play on words, a little game with language to drive home a point. When Theo said it, however, he did it with utter, literal, certainty.

      Jon opened the door to the apartment, and the Grand Lady herself entered unannounced. She came into the room, steaming over something, and when the boys shot to their feet I waited only a half a beat before following suit. Aelia shot past in a blur of blue velvet and pink silk, trailed by the worried white form of Gelia, who cast me a pitying glance before disappearing into the Lady’s room. Striding proudly in their perfumed wake was House Captain Roehm, who both needed no introduction and deserved none. After all I was probably going to murder him before I learned how to spell his name.

      He was as if cast in iron; gray, weathered, and dulled from age. His lines were still clear, his uniform sharp, his long moustache well cared for, but he had the brittle stiffness of a man who has determined he can scream at the universe and make it do what he wants. His back was straight, his gait long and proud. Though painfully thin, I had no doubt of the strength of his limbs. The pommel of his sword was excessively decorated, with inlayed silver roses with virdigrised copper leaves and stems, but the whole things was hard to distinguish since it had been used so often they had nearly worn down to nothing. He had the discipline to become dangerous with a blade, and the further strength of will to continue practicing into his advanced years.

      Pox, indeed
.

      As he closed in on me, I wondered if I could really kill him in a fair fight. Thankfully the chance of me engaging him in a fair fight was fleetingly slim. He towered at least a fingerlength above my head as he brought his formidable stare down upon me… where it shattered on my indifference. He growled quietly, making Theo and Godwin jump to a whole new level of attention with his words, “The next time you fail to come to your feet when the Grand Lady enters the room, I will cut them off.”

      A familiar viper raised its head inside my gut, slithering around with the need to bite him in undignified places. I looked downward and then back up to his cold grey eyes, “Strange. I thought I was standing. Betrayed by my feet again. Taking them would be a blessing.”

      Both boys gasped. His eyes became specks of flint beneath brows that would be long and wiry bushes if he hadn’t been intimidating them into behaving since shortly after birth, “Jest all you want, Fool. I will be keeping my eyes on you.”

      But he had exposed the chink in his armor, his unflagging and largely unwarranted pride and dignity, “I am flattered beyond measure, Lieutenant, but I think I can do better than you.”

      He wheeled upon me like a wind borne death, “I am Captain of the house Guards to the Grand and Noble House of Conaill and you will-”

      I love it when they tell me what I will do
, “-Actually, I heard that you were the bodyguard to the late Grand Duke. So, how is he?”

      Godwin and Theo stood agape, literally at attention with their mouths scraping the floor. As for his captainess, blood infused every exposed inch of skin. Veins began to pulse across his neck and forehead. His fingers twitched with the need to feel cold steel. I planned six ways to kill him before the blade left the scabbard. Then I planned on taking that sword. It had class.

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