The Telastrian Song (25 page)

G
iura had spent
the entire morning in conference with Austorga, but they had finally decided on a plan that he was confident could work. It was the first time he had felt positive in many days, and planned on taking the news straight to Soren. The fact that he had not been at his inn the last time Giura called was of slight concern, but he didn’t intend to worry himself overly for the time being. Like as not, Soren would be there when Giura called this time, and any worrying would be for naught.

He exited the bank by one of the discreet side doors that led to the alleys surrounding the bank. He came to an abrupt halt when he reached the junction of the alley and the main street, bemused.

Three men were walking up the steps to the bank. They had not spotted Giura, but he instantly recognised one of them. Dal Lupard. Of the other two, one was a mountain of muscle, and the other was so badly beaten, his face barely looked like that of a human being. In spite of that, there was something familiar about it. It was Soren.

The question of what Soren was doing with dal Lupard was swiftly replaced by the realisation that there was trouble. He had to assume that dal Lupard knew who Soren was, and what his history was. Why that brought them to the bank was not so clear. Giura would have thought that dal Lupard would scurry straight back to the Duke with his prize. Amero was still looking for Soren as far as he was aware, albeit discreetly. Curious as their being at the bank was, it didn’t change the fact that this was a serious problem.

Could they be there to see Austorga? Giura thought it unlikely; Soren still knew nothing of their plans beyond their general intentions. It seemed too tenuous to make it worthwhile going to see Austorga, not when there was so much to be gained by bringing Soren straight to the Duke.

Giura considered going into the bank after them, but instead decided to wait to see what happened. There was little he could do to help Soren in the bank.

‘
B
anneret Soren
, here to open box number forty-six, and retake possession of its contents.’

The clerk looked at him with wide eyes. Soren doubted if he had ever seen anyone beaten quite so badly before. His face was only the half of it however. Dal Lupard had a long and vindictive memory, and had repaid Soren for his insults in the Ventish opera house—deserved though they might have been—many times over. He suspected at least two of his ribs were broken, possibly more, and that did not take into account the other untold damage that generated so much pain whenever he moved. The chance to make a break for it hadn’t presented itself on the way to the bank, and Soren was concerned that one wouldn’t.

‘I’ll fetch Burgess Dellero,’ the clerk said, before disappearing into a back room.

Dellero was the man in charge of the deposit boxes at the bank. His job was one of great responsibility. He was entrusted with remembering the face of each man who left items in the boxes contained within the strong room. That, coupled with a signature, were both required before the goods would be discharged. If the face did not match Burgess Dellero’s recollection, significant paperwork would be required.

Dellero had the same reaction that the clerk did to Soren’s appearance. Dal Lupard shifted uncomfortably, no doubt wishing he had known of the recognition requirement prior to having the large torturer stave Soren’s face in.

‘Banneret Soren?’ Dellero said, haltingly.

‘The very same,’ Soren said, in as cavalier a fashion as he could manage. ‘Riding accident.’

‘I see,’ Dellero said. ‘Perhaps I could have a sample of your signature.’

Soren nodded and took the copper tipped pen from the receptacle on the clerk’s desk. He dipped it in the pot of ink and, suppressing the pain in his ribs, scrawled an untidy signature on the ledger the clerk put before him.

Dellero looked at the signature closely, and compared it to the previous sample Soren had given. He gave Soren another look and frowned, as though trying to decide what to do. After a further moment’s hesitation, he spoke.

‘I believe everything is in order,’ Dellero said. He turned to the clerk. ‘Please show the Banneret to his box.’

Soren could sense dal Lupard relax beside him. He would have to wait while Soren retrieved the contents of the box, but he was close to realising his goal.

Soren followed the clerk through to the strong room, where the clerk unlocked his deposit box and handed it to Soren. Soren took it to the table in the small room and opened it. Inside were the two socks, stuffed to capacity with diamonds just as he had left them. In hindsight he wished he’d put a dagger in the box, but he hadn’t thought there would be the need. He took the socks out and hefted them in his hands. It was the first moment that he had to himself since encountering dal Lupard and he used it to think.

Soren reckoned Dal Lupard was going to kill him as soon after he got the diamonds as he could. That wouldn’t be possible in the bank, or on the street outside for it was too busy. They might take him down a quiet street or back to the warehouse. Murder in broad daylight would draw too much attention. He would have to make a break for it at the first opportunity. None had presented themselves on the way, and with time running out he would have to take whatever chance he got, good, bad or indifferent.

The ox was waiting for them outside; perhaps his chance would already be gone at that point. Could he make his break while still in the huge foyer of the bank?

G
iura leaned
against the wall of a building opposite Austorgas’ as he waited for Soren to reappear. The huge, muscled brute of a man who was with Soren and dal Lupard waited by the enormous double doors on the bank’s architrave. Something was up, and Giura felt confident that there would be violence. He didn’t fancy tangling with the big man, and if Soren’s face was anything to go by, he wasn’t in any state to deal with both him and dal Lupard alone.

The big man was drawing inquiring looks from the bank’s guards, but he had done nothing to incite their hostility so for the time being their scrutiny was all he had attracted. Giura wondered how they might be used to his advantage should the need arise. All things considered, he would prefer to deal with things quietly, and out of sight, but if that was not possible, quickly would do.

S
oren had thought
of using the diamond-filled socks as weapons, but they were too full for him to be able to swing them like a cosh, and not heavy enough to cause injury sufficient to make it worthwhile. He handed them over, hoping that holding so much wealth in his hands would distract dal Lupard.

He took the two socks greedily and hefted them in his hands, a smile splitting his face. ‘Diamonds. I hadn’t expected that. I presume they come from your friend dal Bragad— excuse me, dal Medenmeer’s mine.’

Soren said nothing.

‘I thought we’d have to get your new friend to haul a chest of coins back with us. Far more sensible way to go about things, this. Shall we?’ He gestured toward the exit.

Soren nodded, doing his best to give the impression of being cowed and defeated. Most men would have been after the beating he had suffered. Dal Lupard had him lead the way out of the bank.

‘Got it?’ the ox said, when they emerged from the cool shade of the bank out into the warm sunshine.

It was the first time Soren had heard him speak in the day or so of their acquaintance.

‘Indeed,’ dal Lupard said, patting the pockets of his doublet. ‘Straight to the Grey Tower.’

If Soren had any control of his facial muscles, he would have raised an eyebrow. The Grey Tower could mean sustained torture or secure housing until he could be handed over to the Duke, not a quick murder as he expected. He wasn’t sure which eventuality he preferred. Could dal Lupard be after the bounty on Soren’s head? It all made sense. That must have been why dal Lupard came back from Venter.

‘You’re aware of the bounty, then?’ Soren said, expecting the answer to be yes, but eager to throw a new factor into the situation.

‘Happily I’m one of the few who are,’ dal Lupard said. ‘Otherwise I might have missed this opportunity. When Balcio told me about the money you were supposed to give him, I thought all my luck had come at once.’

They started toward the Tower, Soren going as slowly as he could and emphasising a limp. Every second he delayed them gave him a greater opportunity to avoid ever arriving at the Grey Tower.

He watched each passing person, each gap in the crowd, whether they carried a weapon, whether they carried anything that he could use to effect his escape. Then he saw a face he recognised, and one that certainly noticed and recognised him. Giura.

Soren could tell by his expression that Giura did not want him to react, so he continued on, dragging his foot behind him and slowing them as much as he could. He wondered if dal Lupard and Giura were known to one another, both being Intelligenciers, but dal Lupard didn’t appear to have noticed Giura’s approach.

‘What awaits me in the Tower?’ Soren said, hoping to ensure dal Lupard’s attention remained directed away from Giura.

‘You’ll be held there securely until I can notify the Duke and pass you over to his custody. I presume you are aware of how eager he is to see you again?’

‘I am, but tell me this, how do you plan on holding me securely there, when you haven’t even taken the precaution of binding my hands?’

This caught dal Lupard’s attention and he stopped and turned to face Soren.

Giura tossed his sword to Soren and in the same movement punched his dagger into the large man’s chest, driving him back and away down a side alley where the killing would be as concealed as could be hoped for.

The sword was in Soren’s hand for no more than an instant before he had its blade pressed to dal Lupard’s throat.

‘A rather abrupt change of circumstances, wouldn’t you say?’ Breathing was agony, but this was too triumphant a moment to allow pain to impose on it.

Dal Lupard spluttered, but then composed himself enough to give an oily smile. ‘I’m forced to agree. I presume you’d like your diamonds back?’

‘I’d like a damn sight more than that, you sack of shit.’

‘Finish him quick,’ Giura said, re-emerging from the alley. ‘The Watch’ll be here soon.’

Soren held his sword where it was, studying dal Lupard intently. There was so much Soren wished to pay him back for, one death seemed hardly enough.

‘Don’t fuck about, Soren. We don’t have the time,’ Giura said.

Soren ignored him. All he could think of was the hurt dal Lupard had caused Alessandra, and the beating he had visited upon him. He wanted to demonstrate to dal Lupard the pain he had caused, to make him suffer for the things he had done. He stared at dal Lupard’s face, smug even now but showing traces of fear.

Soren could hear Giura’s voice in the background, the sound of people passing by and the noise of city, but it was all distant. For Soren, there was only he and dal Lupard and the anger the former Intelligencier inspired in him.

Slowly, all the pain made its way back into his mind. The sound all around him grew louder. He became aware of the odd looks people who walked by gave him, most trying to pretend they had not noticed the strange scene of one man holding a sword to another’s neck. He remembered the desire he felt to cause dal Lupard pain, to make him suffer, and felt ashamed. In spite of all the things he had said and done to Alessandra and Soren, that behaviour was beneath him, was reserved for men like dal Lupard and Amero. Soren didn’t want to be like them.