The Incorruptibles (23 page)

There’s no whorehouse in Hot Springs – at least no obvious one like in New Damnation – so he moseys down the main street, whipping out his pistol, twirling it, and reseating it in the holster. But
fast
. So fast it’s like some sleight of hand – except this trick ends in death and damnation. He takes bead on a lantern in a window, a windvane at the top of a house, the sign of the lares crossroad college at the end of the street. He draws on the doors, the windows. He draws on a falling leaf.

He draws on the moon. He draws on the stars.

When he nears the Croesus Hotel and hears the strains of guests’ voices inside – drunken and full of revelry – filtering through the chill night air, Fisk clicks his heels together like a merry partygoer and mounts the steps. He licks cracked lips, sore from the unaccustomed toothy smile and whistles the chorus of “The White Rose of Cordova”.

He’s framed by light as he pulls the door open and enters.

Livia shook me awake.

She fell backward and sat down hard on her arse as I came up suddenly, brandishing a naked blade.

I stood up, resheathed my knife, went to the wagon, and flipped back the tarpaulin. Agrippina was where she was supposed to be.

But Fisk wasn’t.

Shaking my head, I looked around. Behind Livia stood Titus, bloodied at the temple and holding his arm as though he’d been injured.

‘Oh shit,’ I said, slumping back on the hay.

‘He came to the hotel,’ she said. ‘But there wasn’t much of Fisk in there.’

Titus nodded. ‘He busted in, had the piano man play “The White Rose of Cordova” over and over again and started drinking at the bar. Drinkin’ heavy, like a man desperate for drink. He did that for a while, catcalling and cursing. When I came to him and tried to calm him, because the Croesus brutes were watching, he damn near ripped my arm from the socket.’ He shuddered. ‘I got off easy. The look in his eye … ain’t never gonna forget that.’

Livia, looking more fraught with worry than ever, said, ‘The Crimson Man wanted to play cards.’

‘That’s right. He out-cardsharped the cardsharp. Neat little man from Covenant in a three piece and carrying a hogleg. Name of Piet Mondsall, heard all the whores talkin’ bout him. A ladies’ man and almost as rich as Croesus himself.’

I rubbed my face. This wasn’t going to be good.

‘So they sat down to play, Fisk slinging around a bottle of whiskey and grinning that—’ He paused, swallowed. ‘That hungry grin I ain’t never seen before on him except for recently. They sat down to play, and Fisk was winning. He was taking the cardsharp for a bundle, and folks were gathered around the table. The sharp pulled out that hogleg of his and put it right on the table, pointing at Fisk, and Fisk just smiled bigger and said, “Let me deal, one last time,” and he started flicking them cards out on the table and each one of them landed face-up with a death’s head grinning at the cardsharp.’ Titus shook his head. ‘Like he’d switched decks or something. And the grin on that skull was just like the grin on his face.

‘So the sharp grabbed up his hogleg, put it right in Fisk’s face, and pulled the trigger. But the hammer just clicked. Fisk started laughing, and I can’t remember exactly what he said, because if the truth be told, I was damn near to wetting my britches right then, but he said something like, “That won’t work against me,” and something about Hellfire being at his command and right then all the guns in the room went off.’

‘For that second, when all them guns let go, the room stank of brimstone and we was all surrounded by fire and
imps
and above it all Fisk laughing, and it was like, shit—’ He blinked and swallowed again. ‘Like
Hell on earth
, I guess. Lots of folks got hit then from the gunfire. But I was watching the guards, who nearly jumped out of their skins as their six-guns let go. They came a’barrelin’ into the barroom, holding those smoking pistols that had just blown holes in their holsters. Started pulling the triggers immediately, aiming to gun down Fisk, but he just threw back his head and laughed more. Ain’t a laugh I’ve ever heard before. Ain’t one I want to hear again.’

I pushed myself up from the hay, grabbed the bottle of cacique, and handed it to Titus. He took a long pull and shivered with the alcohol. I offered it to Livia, but she pursed her lips and shook her head no.

‘Fisk’s arm shot out like it weren’t even part of him, and that dead hand around his neck was a’glowin’ like a coal in a fire. Fisk snatched up the cardsharp’s neck. There’s a cracklin’ where all the sharp’s bones start a’breakin, and Fisk swings the man around in one hand like he was a flail or something and beats the guards to the ground with the sharp’s body and paints the room red with the blood a’pourin’ from the sharp’s carcass and the bodies of the guards. At some point the sharp’s head was squeezed right off and rolled across the floor, and that’s when the screaming really started.’

Livia said, ‘I heard the shots and came downstairs, fearing the worse. The townsfolk were huddled against the wall, screaming, while Fisk was laughing and beating to death the guards who kept coming. Beating them with their own bodies. But when he saw me …’

‘Miss Livia appeared in the doorway, and Fisk stopped dead and dropped what was left of the guard he had in his hands, so I roused myself and snatched up the sharp’s hogleg and a’clobbered him on the back of the head. He dropped, but not without a couple of licks, and I’m afraid I might’ve cracked something in there.’

Titus took another messy belt from the bottle of cacique.

‘The remaining guards took him and threw him in the jail.’ Livia cocked her head to the stable doors that stood open. ‘He’s to be executed at dawn on the gallows.’

‘And Manius?’

‘Dead.’

‘Reeve?’

‘He caught a swipe from a guard, but he should be along soon. He’s getting Samantha and our gear together.’

I felt poleaxed. I had known the Crimson Man was strong, but not
this
strong, able to take Fisk over completely.

‘What are we gonna do?’

Livia was quiet for a long while.

‘When the sun rises, I will go to the Croesus offices and plead for Fisk’s life and explain the situation we’re all in if we do not recover Isabelle.’

I nodded. It made sense. Croesus was a Hellene, judging from his name. And, even if he was not a Ruman, then surely he was someone who understood the security that the Ruman presence in the Hardscrabble Territories provided. The Medierans were a great power, but most of that power was vested in ships and the sea. Rumans ruled the land – the legions made sure that remained true. Croesus would see his interests lay with Rume if we explained the situation properly.

‘If he doesn’t listen?’

‘If he doesn’t listen, Fisk will die. We will never find Isabelle. If Fisk dies, there will be war.’

TWENTY-FIVE

The winter sun exploded over the plains to the east and the light filtered through the steam and smoke of Hot Springs, colouring the buildings with the orange and yellow of flame.

The sound of falling hammers on pine lumber – the industrious noise of coffins being built – resounded over the cock’s crow and the braying of mules. Already, even in the half-light of dawn, people gathered around the gallows, breath steaming, their booted feet churning the ice and freeze of night.

Livia had returned from her rooms to the stables to gather me and Titus. She was dressed in her finest garb: a beautiful gown, low cut, with a long sable coat, and black leather gloves lined with fur. Jewels at her neck, her ears. Though I would wager gold she had the sawn-off on her person.

She was breathtaking.

To Samantha and Reeve, she said, ‘We need you to remain here and watch the gallows, ready the horses.’ She stopped as though something had just occurred to her. ‘What will happen if Fisk dies? Will the Crimson Man be released?’

‘No.’ Samantha shook her head. ‘He will remain seated in the hand, which can then be destroyed, sending him back to Hell. Or someone else could take up the object and gain his power. The conditions must be exactly right for him to gain his freedom; the hand must be rejoined to Isabelle. She doesn’t need to accept it, but the hand must be joined with her in some way.’

‘Hung over her neck, then, if she isn’t able or willing to take it?’

‘Yes.’

I didn’t like thinking about what would happen then.

‘You’ll be able to protect her, correct?’ Livia gave a frantic, desperate laugh. ‘This is all pointless if you can’t protect her.’

‘Yes, I can. There is no animus toward her from the
daemon
. It’s a strange covenant based on the wholeness of things. Once she takes the hand, she will be whole once more and the conditions of his bindings will be fulfilled and void. However, Fisk, who has served as the Crimson Man’s prison and bearer, I do not know if I can protect him …’

Livia bowed her head. She looked so lovely in the dress, the jewel shining at her throat, the diamonds sparkling at her ears. Strange she had packed such finery for this mission – how could she have known we might have any need for it? – but I was glad she had.

‘We cannot concern ourselves with Fisk’s welfare after we reach Isabelle.’ When she looked at me, I knew she was lying. She would never stop concerning herself with his welfare.

I would save him, if I could. But we weren’t going to make decisions based on that. Not anymore.

As hard as it was to come to that silent agreement with her, come to it I did. Fisk’s life was a small thing in comparison with the lives that would be lost in a war between Rume and Mediera – and possibly the Autumn Lords.

The Ruman army is the largest and finest fighting force in the known world. They’re hundreds of thousands strong and bring with them Hellfire in all its various forms: gun, cannon, mechanized baggage train, and steamship.

But Mediera is mighty, too. It is said that put side to side, her ships could span the seas and could put a fighting force anywhere in the world within days.

And the Autumn Lords? Should they care to make war, they would have all the might of Tchinee behind them, with three thousand years of civilization driving them on. Who knows what kind of army they could marshal?

No, I couldn’t even fathom the cost to the world if we lost the girl.

‘Have all prepared to leave quickly. If I can’t convince Croesus …’ Livia stood straight, clasped her purse close to her breasts, and said, ‘No matter. I
must
convince him or all is lost.’

She turned and left the stables, and I followed her.

We mounted the steps to the Croesus Mining Company building under the watchful gaze of two over-muscled bullyboys. They did not look happy, but opened the door for Livia and scowled at me as we passed inside.

It was a beautiful building, white stone, and the interior was accoutred like any affluent counting house or seat of industry in New Damnation or Harbor Town – even Sulla or Novo Ludnum – with dark imported woods, leather chairs, bookcases and filing cabinets filled with tomes and ledgers.

We were led into a waiting room. The bullyboys remained with us, breathing through their mouths and fingering shotguns. After a few minutes, another brute appeared in the door and waved us back into a small but well-appointed office. The guards withdrew.

A tall, studious-looking man sat at a large desk littered with papers. His suit-jacket was slung over his chair-back, and his vest looked rumpled. Ink stained his fingers, speckled his cuffs. He was as lean as a harpoon and stared over his spectacles down his long nose at us. He had the officious look of a secretary, bred in the bone.

Behind him was a large closed door, with a gilt C embossed on its front.

‘Can I help you?’

‘We’re here to see Mr Croesus.’

He put down his pen, leaned back in his chair. ‘Are you, now? I don’t recall Mr Croesus having any visitors on his schedule.’

‘Good.’ Livia smiled ‘Then he shouldn’t be too busy to talk with me.’

‘I don’t think you understand, ma’am, but Mr Croesus isn’t a man to have conversations with every passerby. It’s my job to weed out the crackpots and ne’er-do-wells.’

‘My message for Mr Croesus is of the utmost importance. I assure you, he will want to speak with me.’

The man held up his hands in a reasonable gesture. ‘You are a person of means and high-birth, judging from your speech and manner of dress. But why should I allow you access to Mr Croesus? After all, you could have weapons stored about your person and a desire to do him harm. Will you submit to a search?’

Livia looked disdainful at this – quite an expression on her beautiful face. You never want to be on the receiving end of her scorn. She said, ‘My name is Livia Saturninus Cornelius, daughter of Gnaeus Saturnalius Cornelius, and I am here on Imperial business.’

The man’s eyes narrowed. ‘Cornelius, eh? And why would the governor of the Hardscrabble Territories send a woman – however fetching – to our little town, accompanied only by a
dvergar
servant?’

Livia sighed and removed her gloves. ‘We came here with more in our company. But one is dead, and another you have incarcerated and intend to hang.’

The man steepled his fingers and narrowed his eyes. I had the distinct impression that he was enjoying himself. Immensely.

‘Ah, the possessed man who destroyed the hotel and killed the guards.’

‘Yes. He bears something that is vital to the safety of this region.’

The man laughed and said, ‘The black hand that we cannot remove?’

‘Yes. We are on a mission of the utmost importance.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘I think that information would be better suited for Mr Croesus’ ears.’

He pulled an ornate watch from his vest pocket and checked the time. ‘Very soon, your companion will be hanged by the neck until dead. I suggest you start talking.’

Livia hesitated only a moment before outlining our mission. She told him of Isabelle, Banty, and the
vaettir
, the
Cornelian
locked frozen in a stretch of the Big Rill, miles away from anything else.

‘If we cannot reclaim her, there will be full-scale war. I must make sure Mr Croesus understands that even this little town will be drawn into it.’

The man laughed, throwing back his head and holding his stomach. A full laugh. He was vastly amused. This went on until I thought he might have lost his mind or been drinking cacique. But finally he stopped and began wiping his eyes.

‘Oh, gods, that is
rich
.’ He chuckled again and placed his spectacles back on his long, bladelike nose. ‘You Rumans have fucked things up royally, haven’t you?’ He looked to the atrium. ‘Mykos! Dinus!’

Two bullyboys popped their heads around the corner. ‘Yes, Mr Croesus?’

The expression on Livia’s face wasn’t one I’d like to see again. It seems being duped wasn’t high on her favourites list.

Ia-damn him.

‘Take our visitors into custody.’

I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a patrician of high intelligence and fierce motivation curse because she has been thwarted, but it is something very memorable. When she was done, Croesus’ smile had faltered and he looked grim.

‘Ah. There’s the Ruman superiority we’ve come to know.’

He stood up, picked up his jacket from the chairback, and put it on. ‘Fortunately, the cell we have for you has a good view of the gallows.’

Livia looked like she wanted to throttle the man, and I wondered if she truly did have the shotgun under her dress.

‘But
why
? Why would you want to risk war? Surely that can’t be good for business?’

He gave a tight smile, opened an ornate box on his desk, and withdrew a cigar. He trimmed the end with a pocketknife, scraped a match on his desk blotter and then stood there puffing on the cigar, getting a good cherry going and filling the room with redolent smoke.

‘Well, that’s an interesting speculation, ma’am, but one that’s not quite on the mark.’ He smiled again, but this time there were teeth involved. Seeing the smile, my stomach sank a little. I was reminded of Beleth, and his thousand cuts. ‘I don’t like Rumans. But that alone is not enough reason for me to execute Imperial emissaries, which I am planning to. However I’ll think of something.’ He pointed at Livia and me with the burning tip of the cigar. ‘Once the man is dead, you’ll be dangling shortly after.’

‘But
why?
I demand an answer!’

‘You are in no position to demand anything.’ But that smile crossed his features again and he said, ‘War. That’s my favourite word. You know what goes with war? What goes with war in this age of the infernal?’

He walked around his desk. One of the bullyboys grabbed Livia’s arm. I was wrenched around by the elbow and felt something hard jam into my side – a pistol nose.

‘
Silver
. The whole world will war on – and for – silver.’

He made a great bow, hand in flourish, his head almost touching the floor. ‘I thank you for the advance warning. We will be well fortified when the first shots are fired. And if I give better rates to the Medierans? Who will know?’

Livia laughed then, even though her arm being twisted behind her obviously hurt.

‘You’re an idiot, Croesus,’ she said, and the scorn, the complete disdain for him, was like acid. ‘If you think you’re going to be allowed to keep this little—’ She wiped the air with her free gloved hand to indicate the building, the town. ‘This
pipedream
, well, there are three legions between Harbor Town and Fort Brust. And Mediera? They have
maybe
five hundred men in Passasuego, you fool. The only reason we Rumans haven’t taken this whole land with Hellfire and sword are certain treaties that will mean absolutely
shit
if Isabelle cannot be recovered. You’ll be overrun and the silver ours.’

Croesus nodded at his guards, and they hauled us through the waiting room and into the cold air of the street.

‘We shall see, ma’am. Unfortunately,
you
won’t.’ He turned to her guard. ‘Mykos, make sure she has a view of the gallows.’

It seemed like a long walk, back down the main street to the gallows. Strange how time can stretch when your life is coming to an end. The two guards kept our arms twisted behind our backs quite painfully, and there was no way for Livia to get to her gun, if she even had it.

I had a short blade I could get to, but to what end? Livia being killed? A bit of Hellfire ripping through my back?

The jail was built of the same white stone as the Croesus Mining Company building, but it resembled a short squat block, more reminiscent of a legion’s carcer – the army holding cell – than a jail. They led us in and placed us in a cell with a barred window facing the gallows, but not before frisking us. Although they did frisk Livia, either her outraged expression – or their reticence to maul a woman – kept them away from her most private areas. It amazes me that propriety would make even brutes act so stupidly.

‘Do you still have your—’ I whispered, leaving the question unfinished. At the front steps of the jail two guards stood with their backs to our cell, looking toward the gathering crowd waiting for Fisk’s hanging.

Livia didn’t reply but I somehow I got the impression that she did. They had removed all my sharp pointy things.

We watched the gallows. A single guard accompanied by a swinging noose stood on the upraised platform, holding a shotgun.

The time stretched out and a dog barked hoarsely into the morning air. The murmur of the crowd increased, and a trio of dirty boys ran around the gallows, swinging sticks. Soon the noise grew – something was happening. But even craning my neck I couldn’t see what was occurring on the street.

Soon enough, Croesus’ lean figure appeared, along with a brace of guards leading a hooded figure in dusty grey garb. Fisk.

The murmur of the crowd died, and the mass of folk in front of the gallows parted. Croesus, the guards and Fisk mounted the steps up to the gallows. It was very short work whipping the hood off Fisk’s head and replacing it with the noose.

Fisk looked drugged and bleary, and I remembered that Titus had brained him good with the cardsharp’s pistol, to the point he feared he might have cracked Fisk’s skull. Fisk was pale, and his mouth was slack.

But the
daemon
hand still hung from his neck.

Croesus walked to the front of the platform and raised his arms as though welcoming the multitude before him to a dance or a dinner.

‘My friends,’ he said, his voice loud. He was a politician, born and bred. He infused his tone with goodwill and understanding tinged with regret. ‘I’m sorry you are all gathered here today to witness this. This has to be the worst part of my job as city founder and mayor – the execution of criminals.’

He bowed his head and appeared overcome with emotion. But when he looked again at the crowd, his face was furious.

‘Friends, this man …’ Croesus pointed a finger at Fisk. ‘This
monster
! He came into our loving town, our beautiful hamlet, and killed! Many of you witnessed his violence at the hotel, saw how he was possessed of some infernal madness.’ He jabbed a long finger at the sky. ‘But I will not allow this to stand! It is my duty to protect you all. And in the course of my investigation into his origins and companions, I discovered a terrible secret! This man has brought with him agents, agents of Rume, working toward the downfall of our beloved town!’