The Eyes of a Doll (The World of Shijuren Book 2) (9 page)

Heavy pounding on the door woke me.

“Be gettin’ up, Sevener, and be comin’ down to the taproom.”

Ragnar’s terse sentence bothered me more than the brusque awakening. He only became terse when he was livid.

I quickly threw on a tunic and pants and buckled on my belt with my saex. With my winingas and turnshoes in my left hand and my scabbarded sword in my right, I hustled downstairs.

I found Zoe with her kit of herbs and salves taking care of Honker, who had clearly been beaten. He sat there leaning to his left, favoring the ribs that Zoe was examining. A trail of dried blood ran from his nose down his chin to stain his tunic. Both eyes were blackening.

Karah sat a steaming bowl of honeyed gruel in front of him. He barely noticed.

“What happened, Ragnar?”

“Someone was to be settin’ on Honk when he was to be walkin’ to work.”

“Who.”

“I’m not to be knowin’ yet. We’ll be askin’ him, won’t we?”

I suddenly had a dreadful thought.

“Where’s Eirik?”

“He’s to be bein’ in the stables.”

“He hasn’t left?”

“To be sending the message to Zvono and Kapric?”

I nodded.

“No, I’m to have been stopping that. I’m not wantin’ him to be leavin’ just now.”

“Good. Let me wrap my legs and put my shoes on, and I’ll go get them.”

He left me to finish dressing, returning as I buckled on my sword belt.

“I’m to be thinkin’ yer to be payin’ attention to them as around you out there, me lad.”

“That I will.”

He followed me into the Fourth Serpent and we looked around. For the moment, the sun still sat behind the building across the street, so our eyes adjusted quickly. The people passing by cheerfully greeted Ragnar.

“I’ll be back soon, Northman.”

He nodded. “I’ll be sendin’ word from them as live around here that Honker’s family is to be needin’ to come here.”

“Good.”

I walked down the Fourth Serpent with Ragnar keeping an eye on me until the road curved away from the Faerie.

Lack of attention to my surroundings had gotten me mugged by Andreyev, Markov, and Gibroz’s other two thugs. It had been a long month since. I made my way to the Heartsquare briskly, but not so swiftly I did not notice that someone was following me.

Desimir had taught me the basics of following someone, lessons he had learned as a child in this corrupt city. My follower, a slight man in rough clothes not unlike those Aca had been found in, seemed to be as rudimentarily skilled in the process as I was.

I decided my best choice was to keep going, but my right hand was ready for sword or saex as needed. I had watched Frano, a messenger of the Gropas, assassinated swiftly and easily in the Stracara in part because he had been an easy target. I wanted to at least make them work to kill me.

I wound my way back and forth amongst the wagons and the walkers instead of cutting a straight path. The occasional curses as I cut through traffic were a cheap price to pay for not remaining exactly where any assailants might expect me.

As I reached Heartsquare, I stopped briefly to look for threats. Other than the man following me, I saw none. I went up the steps into the Imperial building and immediately downstairs into the labyrinth of its lower floor. With only two missteps, I successfully wove my way to the room where the Emperor’s quaesitors made their home.

Zvono was standing at the back of the large hall when I walked in.

“Sevener,” she called. “Get back here.”

I walked to Kapric’s small office at the back. Zvono leaned on the wall.

“What have you learned?”

“I’ve learned more than I can tell you right now. You need to come to the Faerie.”

“We do?”

Kapric leaned back in his chair.

“Yes, you do,” I snapped. “For one, Honker’s there with black eyes, a bloodied nose, and ribs that feel like Weyland’s been using them for a forge. I’m thinking he’s got these things because of our bodies, and I bet you want to be there when we talk to him.”

“You do like to push things, Sevener,” said Zvono.

“I’m not in a good mood right now. He’s a good man, harmless, and he’s just gotten pounded. I think you two are the key to me doing some pounding of my own, and I’ve got this self-satisfied statue sitting smugly behind his desk.”

Kapric started to respond in kind to my anger, but suddenly smiled broadly. Well, broadly for him.

“Well, you’re right about all that.” He glanced at Zvono. “Let’s go see what he wants, shall we?”

Zvono shook her head.

“You two damned herd bulls.”

“One more thing, a person tailed me from the Faerie. I’d be shocked if he weren’t waiting for us. Honker was ambushed in the street, so…”

“So we should be prepared.”

“Yes, Zvono.”

“I think we’ll be, Sevener, but thanks for your concern.”

The two quaesitors shared a dark smile. They smiled again, once, when they recognized the man tailing us. Nevertheless, we reached the Faerie without hindrance. The follower stopped in the Square of Legends, presumably staying there to watch for my return.

By this point, Honker looked significantly better. The blood had been cleaned off his chin. He wore a different tunic, one of Ragnar’s I assumed. He was finishing the honeyed gruel, not swiftly or smoothly, but capably despite the pain.

Judging from his posture, his ribs probably felt better. I guessed that one of Zoe’s salves had helped.

Kapric and Zvono were polite as they sat at the table. I joined them.

“What happened, Harald?”

“Well, uh, quaesitors, uh, it was nothing.”

Kapric snorted. “Nothing? I’ve been beat on before. That nothing is something.”

I tried to picture Kapric on the end of the same kind of beating Honker had received. I could not.

“Uh, no, it was something, but I mean it was nothing for you.”

“This is my job, Harald. The Emperor expects me to look into people getting beaten. Are you willing to tell the Emperor I can’t do my job?”

Harald looked panicked, flicking his eyes from Kapric to Zvono to me to Ragnar and back.

“But, I…” He paused.

“Did they tell you not to talk about it?”

Honker looked at me with a wild stare but finally nodded slightly.

“Who was it?”

He started shaking his head. Kapric moved to say something, but I forestalled him with a hand.

“Honker, look at me.”

He looked up.

“They know you’re here. They know I’m here. They might think you’re telling me right now.”

His look turned horrified.

“We have to find them before we can stop this. They won’t stop on their own.”

“But they said they would”

“Are they the kind of people who’ll keep their word?”

“Uh…”

“I bet not. Ragnar will let you stay here while I figure out who they are and how to handle them.”

“That’s to be bein’ true, and yer to be knowin’ that goes for you and all yer family, not that I’m to be thinkin’ any ill of yer neighbors or yer son’s forgemates. It’s to be bein’ time that yer to be all stayin’ here. Yer lad and mine can reshoe all the horses and repair a number of things in the stables. I’m to be bein’ appreciative of that. Yer bonny lasses can be helpin’ Zoe in the kitchens and maybe pickin’ up some of her talents. Yer to be knowin’ this is to be bein’ this is best of choices.”

Honker looked around and finally slumped over. “You’re bein’ right of course, it’s just…”

“It’s just a hard set of choices you and your family face and it’s no fault of your own.”

He nodded.

“Anyway, they said that this beatin’ was because I’d been talkin’ to you in the first place. They said I should know better than to stick my nose into kral business.”

“We’re glad you did,” said Zvono. She flipped out her wax tablet. “Tell me everything.” Her purr was almost as loud as Melia’s.

“Uh, well, I was walking to work this morning, and three of them stopped me.”

“Go on.”

“They beat me.”

“Yes, they did. Did they say anything?”

“Uh… yes, they did.”

“What did they tell you?”

“They told me, uh, this is, uh, what people get for talking to queasies… uh, I mean quaesitors.” He looked down and mumbled, “Sorry.”

“We’ve heard the term before, Harald.” Zvono smiled.

He nodded but continued to look at the table.

“So they told you not to talk to the queasies?”

He smiled slightly and nodded again.

“What else did they say?”

“Uh, that I should keep out of their business.”

“What is their business?”

He looked suddenly confused. “I don’t, uh, know, at least not surely.”

“They didn’t tell you?”

“Uh, no, they just told me not to mess with it.”

“Alright.”

Zvono paused.

“What did they look like?”

“Huh?”

“Were they dressed well?”

He shook his head. “Not particularly.”

“What kind of clothes did they wear?”

“Uh, nothing fancy. I mean, the kind of things I might wear.”

“Workman’s clothes?”

He nodded.

“Rips and tears, or nice and new?”

“Rips and tears.”

“Did the clothes fit?”

He looked at Zvono questioningly.

“Were the clothes they wore obviously too big or too small?”

He shook his head hesitatingly.

“Did they have jewelry?”

He thought for a moment.

“Not that I saw.”

“Did they have armor?”

He shook his head.

“Weapons?”

“I guess,” he said after a pause. “I mean, long knives and daggers and what-not.”

“No swords or spears?”

He shook his head firmly.

“Excellent, you’re doing great.”

He looked up and smiled shyly at Zvono.

“Did they say any names?”

He thought for a moment and then shook his head.

Zvono, as was her way, asked all of these questions several times, each times phrasing them differently. After a while, she looked at her notes for a moment.

“Three men dressed in well-used working clothes beat you on your way to work. They told you to keep out of their business, a business presumably illegal. They didn’t have weapons or armor. Do I have this right?”

He nodded.

I leaned forward. “I have a question.”

Honker looked at me.

“How did they speak?”

He looked confused, but Zvono slapped the table in frustration.

“Idiot!”

I smiled at her as she shook her head. Honker recoiled in fear.

“She’s not angry at you, Honker.”

“No, goodman, I’m referring to me.”

“You don’t make mistakes often. Don’t dwell on it.”

She sighed and nodded her thanks. I turned back to Harald.

“Honker, how did they talk?”

Still nervous, he hesitated, before admitting, “Well, I only heard the one.”

“That’s fine. How did he talk?”

“Uh, he, uh, just talked.”

“I’m sorry, let me sharpen the question. Did he have an accent?”

“An accent?”

“Yes.”

“Uh, I mean, I can’t say. I didn’t hear nothin’.”

“They talked like Kapric and Zvono talk?”

He looked nervously at Kapric but nodded.

“No accent that you noticed.”

He frowned.

“Was I supposed to be hearin’ an accent? I wasn’t really payin’ attention.”

“No, Honk, you weren’t, I was just making sure they didn’t talk like Lezhans.”

“Oh, no, that they didn’t.” He beamed in his relief.

“Thank you, Goodman Harald,” smiled Zvono. “You were very helpful. And don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

He nodded, still clearly uncertain.

I looked up.

“Zoe, you have a place to put him? He’ll be stiff tomorrow of course, but he should probably lie down for a while.”

Zoe agreed and shepherded Harald upstairs, calling back, “I’ll be sendin’ them as is his kin up to the same room as they’ve begun arrivin’.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a seat at my table,” I told Kapric and Zvono. “I need to get something from my room.”

By the time I had returned with Gibroz’s scrolls, they were at my table, drinking from the pitcher of lakewater Karah had left.

“I’m an idiot,” Zvono was muttering as I sat.

“Never mind that,” insisted Kapric.

I nodded.

“You’d have remembered the accent soon enough.”

“Still…”

“Enough,” ordered Kapric.

“Let’s just focus on what that tells us,” I added.

“That it’s not just Lezhans who are involved.”

“Yes, Zvono, but there’s more to it than that.”

They looked at me.

“Your dead man was named Aca, and he was one of Gibroz’s men.”

“Aca? I didn’t recognize him.”

Kapric snorted. “He’s not one of ours, Zvono, so you probably wouldn’t have.”

Confused, I looked at Kapric. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s not like the Blazevics who kept attacking you. We deal with them and their ilk quite often. We know Aca does things for Gibroz, but he’s not hired muscle. As far as we know, he’s never killed anyone.”

“So he might be known to other quaesitors?”

Kapric shrugged, and I continued.

“But in any case, you don’t pay that much attention to him.”

He nodded.

“Well, somebody was,” I declared. “Or at least someone was looking for anyone who might be tracking what was passing along the Kopayalitsa right now. Gibroz told me that a Lezhan kraljevic named Ylli is cheating him by sending more along the Kopayalitsa than he is reporting to Gibroz. So, he sent Aca to look into it.”

“And you think that’s why Aca was murdered,” muttered Zvono as she noted his name in her tablet.

“It’s the simplest reason that supports what we know.”

They nodded.

“It’s a working theory, but let’s not forget it’s only a theory.”

“That’s your job, to keep looking at other possibilities. My job is to deal with Ylli.”

They looked at me sharply.

“What do you mean, Sevener?” Kapric shook his head. “You realize you cannot take him on by yourself, right? He is a kraljevic with scores of blades at his disposal.”

“Yes, but I’m not really trying to get rid of him, just find out if he’s behind Aca’s murder and get him to stop worrying about Harald.”

“Which he clearly is.”

“Which someone clearly is. The lack of a Lezhan accent bothers me.”

“Me as well, Sevener, me as well.”

“Whose lack of a Lezhan accent?”

We looked up as a new voice intruded into our conversation.

“Sebastijan,” hissed Kapric.

“It’s good to see you too, brother.”

“Never mind that,” I interjected. “I need both of you right now. Fight amongst yourselves later.”

Kapric grunted, which was the best I could expect. Sebastijan merely shrugged and sat down.

“Whose lack of a Lezhan accent?” he repeated.

“Honker was attacked this morning by three thugs. One of them told him to stay out of their business and not to talk to the quaesitors. The speaker didn’t have a Lezhan accent.”

“Interesting.”

He thought for a moment.

“Either Ylli has Achridan help or Ylli’s not involved.”

“How likely would it be for him to have some Achridans taking his money?”

“Very, but it would be risky for whoever is helping him without Gibroz or Katarina allowing it. Like maybe someone helping Ylli and Gibroz work together. Neither Gibroz nor Katarina would want to let Lezhans work for Ylli on their turf. Anyone caught helping Ylli or other Lezhans would likely be killed out of hand.”

Karah brought him a mug, and Sebastijan immediately filled it with lakewater. She took the pitcher to refill it.

“Whoever did this is open enough to attack Harald,” I mused as he took his first sip.

“Exactly. It’s not impossible, but it’s not a given that this person could be working with Ylli.”

“Are you saying that now you don’t think Ylli’s involved?”

“No, not at all, only that it’s not clear. Remember, Lezhans working for Gibroz or Katarina would be just as likely to get killed by Ylli and the other Lezhans krals for the same reason.”

“To keep and hold what they’ve got.”

“That’s what Gibroz wasn’t telling you yesterday,” chuckled Sebastijan.

“I think he told me, but I think he’s hoping I’ll get killed.”

“Get killed doing what?” asked Zvono.

“Gibroz wants me to visit Lezh and see what Ylli has planned.”

Kapric raised his eyebrows.

Zvono sat her tablet on the table. “And you’re doing this?”

I nodded.

“That is an insane idea.”

I shrugged. “Probably. But I need to find out who’s threatening Harald. I can’t leave things like this.”

“This is not your fault.”

I grinned at Kapric. “You just want to get rid of me.”

He started to bluster but I cut him off. “I know that’s not true. I also know it’s not my fault and I appreciate you saying so. But I just can’t leave Harald and his family in such a risky position. It’s not their fault either.”

Calmed, Kapric returned to his normal, stony demeanor. “In that case, what do you plan to do? Mostly, I’d rather you lived than died.”

“Thank you, Kapric.” I smiled and unrolled Gibroz’s scrolls. “Gibroz gave me these lists. One is of people working for Ylli that Gibroz knows about. The other is a list of schemes Ylli is involved in.”

Kapric and Zvono looked in amazement at them.

“Gibroz gave you these?” Zvono clearly itched to somehow fit all that was in the scrolls into her tablet.

“Yes, and I think they are purposefully obscure.”

They questioned me with their looks.

“I think Gibroz is smarter than he normally looks.”

“You think he wanted you to get help from us,” mused Kapric, “meaning we would have information we could give to quaesitors in Lezh that might damage Ylli’s organization.”

“Exactly. He must know I simply don’t understand Lezh enough to get much value out of what’s in these. But you and Sebastijan do, especially working together.”

Kapric and Sebastijan glared at each other for a moment and then shrugged.

“Mother will be happy.” Sebastijan was now grinning.

Kapric snorted. “Ecstatic, more like. She wants you to visit her, by the way.”

“Radovan told me.”

Kapric turned back to me. “I don’t want to leave things as they are, either. If this escalates, then we’ll have paperwork to do for all of Honker and his family, and I do not want that.”

“Is paperwork the only issue, Kapric?”

He started to snap back at me but sighed. “No, but it’s the way I deal with some of the deaths I see.”

We looked at each other for a long while. Something had happened there, though I was not entirely sure what.

“In any case, let’s look at these scrolls. You all pass them around and look at them closely for a bit, and then we’ll compare what we remember.”

“What
we
remember, Sevener?”

I laughed. “Alright, Zvono, what
you
remember.”

With small chuckles they started looking at the scrolls. While they alternated between examining the scrolls and staring at nothing, I got up and looked for Ragnar and Zoe.

Zoe I found walking down steps from the wing of rooms opposite to mine.

“How is Harald?”

“I think some ribs are broken.”

“Should we get one of the Helpers?”

“I’m sending word to the shrine of Cosmas.”

“Is that one of the Helpers?”

Zoe chuckled.

“You don’t have all of the godlings venerated here memorized yet? I fear you shall not be comfortable here until you do.”

I smiled. “No, I haven’t, and I have no doubt you are correct.”

“Yes, Cosmas is one of the Helpers, and he and his twin brother Damian were physicians. We get help from those who serve Cosmas when we deal with broken bones.”

I nodded, remembering that each of the Helpers had their own particular focus.

“I will help pay whatever is needed.”

“Those who serve Cosmas will not accept money in return.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I send over food as a donation. That they will accept, but not pay for service.”

“That’s good of them.”

“That is their way.”

“I didn’t get the sense that those of Panteleimon would turn down payment.”

“Each Helper is different.”

I nodded.

“In any case,” she continued, “I think we’ll have Honker’s ribs mending soon, and I’ve salved his bruises and cuts. He won’t be fully healthy for a while, but at least he’ll be mending.”

“Good.”

“It’s not your fault, Edward.”

“No, it’s not. I can’t help feeling somewhat responsible for him, though.”

“You’re not so bad a man, for an outlander,” she teased.

“And you’re not so bad a woman, for an Imperial.”

We laughed.

“We’ll be needing lunch soon, and I wanted to check and see if I could help while they’re studying scrolls.”

“Breakfast in your case, I’m thinking.”

I laughed. “Yes.”

“Well, you’re not to be touching my kitchen. I’ll have something out to you and the rest soon.”

“Thank you.”

“No, dear, thank you.”

I left to find Ragnar. He was standing outside the Faerie’s stable door, looking up and down the Fourth Serpent, idly tapping a large stick in one hand. He wore the baldric with his sheathed broadsword as well.

He had clearly passed on to the neighbors that, at the very least, something was happening, and a number of other men and older boys lounged around the street, clearly on alert.

“Ragnar.”

“Yes, me boy?”

“Zoe says Harald will be alright soon enough.”

“I’m to be knowin’ that, but it’s to be bein’ nice of you to be sayin’.”

“You’re waiting on the rest of Honk’s family aren’t you?”

“You’re not to be bein’ as stupid as you look, me boy.”

I smiled.

“Let me get my sword, and I’ll go check.”

He nodded.

Before I left, I told the others that lunch was coming soon and that I needed to make sure Honker’s family was safe.

I did not have far to go. Just before the Fifth Serpent, I saw the large mass of neighbors, warded by Sebastijan’s thugs, start down Medusa’s Way. In their midst I saw Soraya and their older daughter. I assumed Ludmilja was in their midst, hidden from view.

That assumption was quickly confirmed when Ludmilja came running out of the crowd to hug me, with Nadja held with a firm grasp.

“Nadja’s friend!”

I laughed. “Yes, and we are going back to the Faerie for a long party.”

Ludmilja squealed and grabbed my right hand with the one not holding Nadja.

I let Honker’s neighbors encircle us, and we walked back to the Faerie.

I was not sure what I would do if I had to use my sword, but I could not let go of Ludmilja’s hand for the moment. Fortunately, we arrived at the front door before I needed to answer that question.

Ragnar ushered them in, only pausing to give me a small wink as he saw Ludmilja and me holding hands.

Once inside I kneeled down to Ludmilja. “Take Nadja and go play with your family. I have to talk with my friends over there.”

She pouted for a moment but soon nodded and went with her mother.

“You’ll make a great father,” laughed Sebastijan. His men echoed his laughter. He pointed them to the table nearest the door, following that with a gesture to Ragnar, who nodded in return.

He turned back to me. “In fact, you should go sit with Nadja and Honker for a while.”

I looked at Sebastijan with an eyebrow raised.

“Zvono, Kapric, and I still have work to do. You’ll just get in the way.”

“In the way?”

“Yes, we’ll find ourselves explaining everything to you as we compare notes.”

“From each side of the law?”

He nodded with a smile. “Don’t forget we’re dealing with half-remembered memories that are sometimes years old.”

“I understand. It’s Lezh, not Achrida.”

“Yes. Sit over there and work on your fathering skills while we see what we see.”

I thought about it for a moment, shrugged, and spent the rest of the morning with Ludmilja and Nadja.