Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1) (8 page)

“Ah! Here it is,” he said, as his hands found the
hidden release, “Bal-Shim’s servants don’t seem to have noticed it!”

He lifted the false bottom loose, and in the shallow
space underneath were several things. There were some childhood trinkets of no
obvious value, other than to Arjun. There was a very fine double-bladed bronze
dagger with a design of a thunderbolt slaying a snake along one blade, there
was an assortment of men’s jewelry in bronze, there were two wax-sealed bronze
vials, and a small leather pouch. Arjun opened the pouch to show Inina, and
inside were gems.

Inina’s eyes widened, “I’d say you are rich still, and
that might be the finest dagger I’ve ever seen, at least up close. Did your
father make that?”

“No, I did,” he replied, “that was done to prove my
worthiness to become a bronze maker of the second circle, and thus gain the
right to work in it without supervision. My father, by comparison, is a bronze
maker of the third and highest circle.”

“What about those vials?” she asked, with curiosity
rising in her voice.

“They are potions I purchased, the one inscribed with
a hand will cause wounds to heal much faster than normal, and the one inscribed
with a flame will burn whatever it touches, if it can be burned, in liquid
fire.”

“I can understand healing, but why did you have something
like the other one?”

“It seemed useful to have a way to make fire
regardless of conditions, but my father disapproved of the idea, as we had
Lamps of Zamisphar. So, I hid the potion to await the time when it might be
needed.”

“Lamps of Zamisphar?”

“Bronze lamps that flame on command for a few hours
each day,” he replied, “They are the focus of shrines in honor of Zamisphar,
since he will have no idols or temples to himself”

“Ah. But now, how could Bal-Shim’s men have missed all
these things rattling around in the bottom of a chest?”

“There are some minor magics placed on it to keep
things from shifting, and to silence any noise they might make.”

“Arjun, the life you led still amazes me…”

“Do not forget that led, rather than lead, is the
correct word. Now, speaking of the Lamps of Zamisphar… I wonder if Bal-Shim
cared enough to keep them? He is, in name at least, a follower of Zamisphar,
and so ought not to sell them, but they would bring in quite a price if he
did.”

They looked for some time, but did not find them. As
they did though, Inina insisted that they gather up as many valuables as they
could in the sacks. Bal-Shim seemed to have personally taken, or at least kept
elsewhere, anything of gold or silver, but there were plenty of bronze items, a
few of them inlayed with lapis lazuli, jade, ebony, or other stones. Arjun had
made some of them with his own hands.

Then they heard a noise.

The front door opened, and a bright light appeared at
that end of the warehouse, as of a full sized lamp. With it came a pair of loud
male voices, in mid-conversation. The conversation stopped abruptly. The lamp
lowered to the floor. Arjun and Inina started to make for the back door.

Two men in armor came running with swords drawn. Inina
stopped, spun, and in the same motion pulled her obsidian dagger. Arjun turned
more slowly, and drew the sword from his back as the men reached them. The man
on the left, bigger, with a damp-looking beard and reeking of wine, brought his
sword down towards Arjun’s head. As Enlil had taught him, Arjun dodged to the
left, tripped the man, and as he did so brought the point of his sword up into
the other’s throat. The charging man’s own weight and momentum drove the blade
deep. Arjun dodged his falling body and turned to face the man on the right.

The other guard was pressing forward with stabbing
moves at Inina, while she dodged backward. Arjun advanced and ran his sword
toward the gap between the man’s bronze breastplate and belt. The guard dodged
the attack and turned to face Arjun, sword raised in defense. At that moment,
Inina darted forward and plunged her obsidian dagger into the same gap Arjun
had tried. It seemed to miss his vitals, but the man roared in pain and fury.
In a furious rage he turned back to Inina and lunged at her, sword level with
her chest.

She jumped backwards like a cat and barely avoided
being run through. Arjun closed and slashed the man’s tendons behind his knee,
he buckled forward, and Arjun ran his blade deep under the man’s arm and into
his chest from behind. He crumpled screaming. Blood streamed from the wounds
and from his mouth.

Arjun stopped for a moment and looked down at this
man. He was just a guard, and no doubt had little part in Bal-Shim’s deeper
plans, but then the guards of Arjun’s household had just been loyal servants
too, and they were pitilessly killed. White hot hate swept through Arjun, and
he ended the man’s misery with a blade through the base of the skull.

Inina looked at him, eyes wide.

“Arjun, I think we’d better go,” she said in a faint
whispered voice.

“Not till I’ve burned this place to the ground.”

Then, there was a new voice from the front door. It
sounded young.

“Ha!” it said, “and Bal-Shim told me I’d find you two
drinking and loafing outside the front door! Where are you, and where’s the
wine? Oh…!”

Arjun ran for the front door, his bronze sword still
running with blood. There stood a very young thin man in a dirty yellow kilt.
He was probably younger than himself, thought Arjun as he advanced. The latter
however bolted at the sight of him, and went running down the street at a speed
that Arjun, heavier and far more tired, couldn’t hope to match.

Inina, thinking quickly, walked forward, closed and
barred the front door, and spoke, “we don’t have much time. Is there oil or
pitch in some of those amphorae?”

“Yes. Follow me!”

She did, and grabbed the big lantern the guards had
used.

They found the amphorae with oil and pitch, and threw
them recklessly around the warehouse, smashing on whatever they might hit.

Then they set fire to makeshift torches, and threw
them into the pitch. Flames began to roar as they fled the building. They
grabbed the sacks of Arjun’s family possessions, darted out the back door, and
raced into the shadows.

8.
The Tale of Consequences

Arjun and Inina arrived at the House of Red, dirty,
exhausted, and carrying heavy sacks of bronze treasures. Considering all of
that, they decided it was best to knock on the back door in the alley to
Lurshiga’s kitchen, and hoped she would hear them.

She did, and boggled.

“WHAT have you two been up to?”

Inina forced a smile, her voice still panting, “Oh,
just a good haul tonight.”

“I’ll say! Did Sharur get you mixed up in whatever
this was?”

“Oh, no, it was all my idea.”

Nonetheless, Lurshiga gave Arjun a skeptical look. For
his part, he tried to soften the intense expression he’d worn since the fight
at the warehouse, and spoke quietly.

“Lurshiga, for a couple extra copper, would you be
able to send up some jugs of water, a little wine, and some clean cloths, if
you have them around?”

“No problem about the water and the wine. For a third
copper I could send a boy to go round up some clean cloth from someone around
here.”

“Done,” he said, and handed her the coins.

Inina peeked around the door and through the curtains
into the common room. Though it was late, there was a decent sized crowd there
tonight.

“I’m not so happy about the attention we’ll attract
coming out of here and going up the stairs with these sacks.”

Lurshiga smiled, “That is why I have a little hidden
back way for just such purposes, and for some occasion where I might need to
leave in a hurry. Inina, you are about to be one of only a few people in the
world who know about this, so be glad I trust you. And you Sharur, be glad she
is your friend.”

“I am, more than I can say,” he whispered exhaustedly.

Lurshiga moved some large pots on the floor level of
one of the plastered brick shelves built into her kitchen walls. She pushed the
wall with a kind of sideways motion, and a panel slid back. Behind it was a
crawlspace, barely big enough for Lurshiga, but roomy enough for the two young
people, at least if they weren’t carrying too much at a time. The base of a
ladder could be seen, going up.

“Here you go, my children. You’ll probably need to
make a few trips, but that ladder is built for me, and definitely sturdy enough
for you.”

Inina kissed Lurshiga on the cheek and gave her a
tight hug. Arjun bowed gravely to the older woman, then set to distributing
goods among more bags. Lurshiga led them up the ladder. It was a dark cramped
space, but the panel at the top worked as easily as the one at the bottom. They
found themselves in Lurshiga’s small but comfortable room on the top floor, and
made several more trips until everything was there. Inina peered out into the
hallway. No one was around. Lurshiga wished them well, and then climbed back
down to her kitchen. In one heavily laden trip they darted to Arjun’s room.

Once inside, they barred the door and hurriedly stowed
the big sacks in Arjun’s hidden alcove, which was now quite full. There would
be time enough to sort things out in the morning. Inina looked around. The room
had changed quite a bit since she’d last seen it. Arjun seemed to have
thoroughly cleaned the place, bought some new bedding, touched up the plaster,
and even done some minor repairs. He’d added a small chest in the one free
corner. It had a tiny bronze incense burner on it that looked to have been used
earlier, and the room carried the scent.

“You’ve fixed the place up!” she said.

“I decided since I might live here a long time, at
least I should like it.”

“I’m surprised you were fine with doing that much
manual labor… I mean considering the way you grew up, I mean, that doesn’t
sound nice of me, sorry,” she said, looking apologetic.

Arjun however, wasn’t bothered, and he noticed how
beautifully her eyes peered up through the disheveled braids of her hair as she
said it.

“Bronze makers work with our hands,” he said, “even
when we also have other hands to help us. It is dirty work, at a forge. I’m
used to it.”

There was a knock at the door.

“This is Lurshiga, I’ve got everything.”

Arjun unbarred the door. She was there with two of her
street urchin part-time helpers, several jugs, a carafe of wine, a tiny clay
jar, and a stack of fresh cotton cloth.

“What’s in the jar?” asked Inina.

“A little soap-salt with spices in it. Thought you
might like it after the night you’ve had. I keep a few around for nights when I
really need to forget the world. Tell Sharur not to worry, my sweet, this is on
me.”

Arjun bowed to her again, and with a smile, she
departed.

Inina barred the door, opened the little jar, sniffed
it, and spoke, “This smells like you did, the morning I met you… ah, uh, I am
so glad tomorrow is a festival and you don’t have to go train…”

Then she began to blush, realizing where she was, and
how close they were.

Arjun steeled himself, “Let’s get washed up. I have
some cheese and dried spiced meat in that bag hanging on the wall. Here, I’ll
turn around, pour you some wine and get everything ready while you wash… while
you wash privately.”

Inina flushed again, but started pouring water into
the room’s basin, then scrubbed with water and the salts. Arjun did his best
not to look back at her as he assembled their little meal. In Zakran, people
were not particularly modest about exposed skin, but there were some limits,
and what might have felt fine at a public bath seemed very different here, in a
small room together.

A little while later, clean and fresh, they shared the
food and wine cross-legged on the little mats Arjun had put on the floor.
Despite their increasingly sleepy efforts at light talk, the conversation
turned to the fire and death at the warehouse, and what might come of it,

“Arjun, you know they’re going to send out a manhunt
for you, and whatever reward they might have had out, it is going to be a lot
higher now.”

“I have expected nothing else. However, this is the
largest city in the world. The number of people who know me personally, by
sight as Arjun, is not that large by comparison, and none of them in this
neighborhood.”

“Still, you should watch yourself, and I think change
your look… not that I want your look to change, I mean how you look is
beautiful, but you need to hide out, and oh… I don’t know what I mean…” she
said, with drowsing eyes and drifting voice. Her head nodded.

Arjun picked her up. He had the strong arms of a
smith, and she felt very light in them. He put her in his small bed, blew out
the lamp, and curled up on the floor next to her.

Some hours later, in the dim light before dawn, Inina
awoke with a start. Arjun turned around, and instinctively put his arms around
her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Arjun, I had a terrible dream that you were being
chased by shadowy men whose eyes were wells of darkness! They had long serrated
spears that turned into snakes! I…”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and their faces
touched, then their lips. Inina breathed in his scent, and emotions
long-repressed flooded her mind and heart. Arjun held back for the briefest
moment, then his blood ran with fire, and he gripped her tight in his arms, she
gasped and kissed him again. He joined her in the bed as their hands, lips, and
bodies shared the very fire of life.

~

Far east across the city, Bal-Shim looked with black
rage at the ruins of his warehouse. The thick mud-brick walls had contained the
fire, and city slaves had come to douse it, but not before everything flammable
inside had been burnt to ash. The bronze had survived, though some items were
partly melted, but Bal-Shim could see there was a lot less of it, particularly
among the smaller pieces.

He had many armed men with him, both of the city and
his own personal guard, as well as a captain of the fire watch and two sleepy
city scribes. Beside him stood his otherwise worthless slave Eb-Heb, who had
reported the news and described the culprits. Bal-Shim had no idea about the
girl, but the young man could only be Arjun.

Near the ashes of the back door, he could see the
charred remnants of two bodies in bronze armor, the armor of his guards. Full
of concealed fury, he wanted to go kick them, smash the burnt bones for their
failure, but he had his living guards watching him, and did something else
entirely. He walked over to the bodies, kneeled beside them, and bowed his head
in prayer.

“O’ gods, lords of all, guide and protect the spirits
of these good men, who died faithfully in their duty. May I be worthy to honor
their memory, and may I be able to avenge them.”

Bal-Shim rose, turned, and looked at his men. There
was worship in their eyes. He spoke again.

“And we WILL avenge them, men! We’ll show this
aristocrat, this corrupt leftover of the dark times of the kings what it means
to anger the good honest common men of Zakran, men like you and me! I am now
adding to the city’s reward for the capture of Arjun dra Artashad with a
personal bounty of fifty gold suns!”

At the mention of that sum, the men’s eyes, his guards
and city alike, now gleamed with something more akin to hunger.

To Eb-Heb, he whispered quietly, “Run to the house of
Zash-Ulshad, and speak to the doorman. Ask him if his master will speak with me
today, and give him the following words, exactly, ‘it may be wise to spare the
bird in the cage, so we may lure the hatchling’, repeat it now to me.”

Eb-Heb looked at him uncomprehendingly, and then tried
to repeat it. It took him three more tries, but at last he had it memorized.

“Go now!”

The slave bowed to his master, and set off at a trot.
The master watched him go, and finished his business with the fire watch and
guardsmen. Then Bal-Shim decided it would be wise to visit the temple of
Ur-Laggu. Even as open as religion was in Zakran, he could not be known to take
part in the true festival underground, but could at least pay his respects
during the first cycle of worship just after dawn. There he also had need to
speak with certain persons. Later, after his visit with Naram dra Zash-Ulshad,
he might take part in the public, surface festival that was open to all. Open
even, he thought with cynical pleasure, to one believed to be a devotee of
Zamisphar.

~

Arjun and Inina awoke late in the day, intertwined
close together on his little bed. He covered her in kisses, and she melted in
his arms. After a time, they arose, washed again, anointed themselves with
perfume, and dressed in clothes Arjun had taken from his family’s things at the
warehouse. He wore his old kilt and cloak of purple and black, with bronze
discs giving weight along the hems. She wore an outfit belonging to one of the
serving girls, but plain as it was, it was cleaner and newer than much of what
she owned. He found various bronze ornaments from his treasures, and bedecked
them both from ears to ankles.

“Arjun,” she smiled and spoke to him in a soft voice,
“We can’t go outside like this!”

“No indeed, but it feels good, does it not?”

Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, “I feel like
a princess...”

“You have always been like one to me, as much in your
plainest clothes as now sparkling with bronze and lapis. From the moment I saw
you, I thought you were one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen. Now that
I know you, I see that beauty in your heart as well.”

She clung to him tightly, kissed his neck, breathed in
his scent and felt his strong arms around her. Her body shook with emotion.
She’d known him, what, a month? And yet no one had ever been as close to her
heart as he. She had many friends, but few she’d trust with her life.  Him, she
did. She’d felt it early on, even if she didn’t dare say it to herself, and she
felt more, so much more. But what was she? A poor thief of the streets, daughter
of no one, maker of nothing, unworthy of such as him! And he… was so strange,
lofty, learned, and dangerous, yet so unworldly as well. She guessed from his
stories of his life, and his own shyness, that she had been his first lover. He
was not hers, though he was the first she’d had any reason to enjoy.

She cried on his shoulder, tears running down her
skin, and his.

“Inina, what is wrong?”

“I don’t want this to ever end, being here with you,
safe from the world, in your arms, and wearing your treasures.”

“I wish that too. We’ll have to move some time, at
least to eat and get some wine,” he said with a little smile.

She looked up at him, sniffled, wiped her eyes, and
managed a smile.

He continued, “But as to that last part, wearing my
treasures, that you can go on doing. Half of what we took last night is yours.”

“What? It belongs to you, to your family!”

“I wouldn’t have it now if not for your help, and I
want you to have it. You will have enough money now that, if you use it wisely,
you will never even need to work again,” he smiled, “thought it doesn’t rule
out using your old skills for better ends!”