Sweet Silver Blues (16 page)

Dojango came with the keg and mugs.

“Tap it. Friend, I’d like to talk to a man so interested in me he’d send you around. Just to find out why, if nothing else. Who sent you?”

He set his jaw. I’d expected that. I opened the packet I’d gotten and tapped bits of its contents into the heads of the beers Dojango drew. “This is a harmless spice guaranteed to put an elephant out for ten hours and a man for twenty-four.” I gestured.

Dojango got hold of his nerve and took a mug to a man near one of the grolls. The thug refused to take it. Morley barked something. Marsha—or Doris—snagged man and mug and put the contents of one inside the other with less trouble than a mother getting milk down a toddler. Then he stripped the thug to the altogether and tossed him out our only window.

If the man had any sense at all, he would get himself hidden fast, before the drug took hold. Folks in Full Harbor have very strong feelings about public nudity. Caught, he could end up spending the rest of his life in the Cantard mines.

The rest of the muscle decided it was time to go. The other groll held the door until his brother came to help. After things settled down, I asked, “Who sent you?”

“You’re a dead man.”

“A thought which will comfort and warm you during those long nights in the mines.” I gave Dojango another mug. This time the other groll took a turn feeding baby. “I keep going till I get that name. You’re last. If I have to do you, you get a short dose. Just enough to make you forget who and where you are, but not enough to put you down so you don’t go wandering into trouble.”

“For heaven’s sake, Switz,” one of the thugs said as I handed Dojango another mug. “We aren’t getting paid enough for this. He’s got us by the balls.”

“Shut up.”

Another said, “You ain’t going to see me in no mines.”

“Shut up. It can be fixed.”

“Bull. You know damned well he wouldn’t bother. He’d say we deserved it. He don’t have that kind of pull, anyway.”

“Shut up.”

One of the grolls snagged the loudest complainer.

“Wait a goddamned minute!” he yelled at me. “It was Zeck Zack that sent us.”

I was startled. I made use of my reaction. “Who the hell is Zeck Zack?”

Fearless leader groaned.

Morley gestured. The grolls put our man down but did not turn him loose. I said, “We won’t be sending the rest of you after all. But I’m still going to need you sleeping. Set yourselves down someplace comfortable. We’ll serve up the brew.”

The leader said,”You’re dead meat, Trask.”

“I bet I’ll last longer than you,” the other thug replied.

While they bickered I got everything settled. I got the three to drink their beer. We settled back for a listen to our songbird.

“One thing,” he said. “The first guy you threw out. He’s my brother. You get him back in here or I don’t say nothing.”

“Morley?”

Morley sent Dojango and Doris.

Trask was able to tell us almost nothing we didn’t already know. He had no idea why Zeck Zack wanted us thumped and run out of town. He had not seen the centaur. Only Switz saw or heard from Zeck Zack. He didn’t know if the centaur was in town or not. Probably not, because he almost never was.

I asked a lot of questions and got almost nothing more. Zeck Zack shielded his infantry from troublesome knowledge about himself.

“You kept your part of the bargain, with one proviso that benefited your brother.” The brother was back inside and redressed, sloppily. “So I’ll keep mine, with a proviso that will benefit me. Dojango is going to tie you up just tightly enough so it will take you a couple of hours to get loose. When you do, take your brother and get lost.”

Dojango did the honors. He had been sneaking some off the keg and was getting braver by the minute.

“Not bad for improvisation,” Morley said.

“Yeah. Thought so myself.”

“What now?”

“We strip the other three and dump them where they’re sure to get got, then we go see a centaur named Zeck Zack.”

Morley didn’t like it, but he went along. He was making top money and staying out of the hands of his creditors, and what more could a guy want? Cabbages and cattail hearts?

30

Morley led the way down the old path from the cemetery to the house. I knew the trail but he had the night eyes. Each fifty paces he stopped and asked the darkness, “Hornbuckle?”

He didn’t get an answer until we neared the waking radius of the peafowl.

I was amazed by the grails. For all their height and mass, they moved through the woods with more stealth than a human.

“Sit,” Morley said when tittering answered him at last.

We sat.

Diminutive forms pranced around and among us. Morley gave each a piece of sugar candy, the most certain bribe there is. They wanted more. He promised it. If . . . They scattered to do our scouting for us.

I’ll bet Morley hated himself. He certainly looked disgusted as he tucked the rest of the candy inside his shirt.

I asked, “Can we trust them?”

“Not much. But they want the rest of the candy. I don’t plan to run out till we’re on our way again.”

After that we stayed quiet, waiting. I got itchy between the shoulder blades, that feeling you get when someone is watching. Or you think someone is.

That scalawag Hornbuckle flipped Morley a mock salute.

“How many?”

“Four. Two humans. Very nervous. One centaur. Worried and grumpy. One
other.
They’re awaiting a report from someone and that someone is late. Sugar?”

“Not yet. Are there wardspells? Alarms? Booby traps? Dangerous guard animals?”

“None.”

“Any reason for us to fear?”

“They are wicked creatures. All.”

“Silence the peafowl so we can pass.”

“Sugar?”

“All the sugar I have when we come out.”

“You might not get out.”

“Why not?”

Titter. “They are wicked creatures. Very wicked. Especially one.”

“All right.” Morley took out his candy. “One piece for you. A half piece for each of your friends. The rest if we come out. Tell me the best way to get to them.”

Their boy Switz did it to us, so we did it to them.

Kaboom!
One groll after another went through the huge double doors of the ballroom. Then Morley. Then me. Then Dojango to guard our rear.

It was thoughtful of them to have waited in the only room where the grolls would have space to maneuver. The ceilings were eighteen feet high.

They scattered like squeaking mice when the cat pounces.

Doris and Marsha each snagged a man. Morley streaked between them, pursuing a shadowy something that crashed through a window at the far end of the ballroom.

Where the hell was the centaur?

There he was, a one-critter cavalry charge. I managed a leg whip that tangled some fetlocks or forelocks or whatever they’re called. It was a sin, what his hooves did to the carpets and flooring.

Impetus flung me against something made of mahogany or teak, very hard and very immovable. I practiced exhaling a bushel more air than any human being normally inhales. Somebody was hollering.

“Help, Morley! I got him, Morley! Help!”

I staggered to my feet.

Dojango had him all right.

Zeck Zack was about average for his tribe, about the size of a small pony. He was not built to carry a hundred thirty pounds of Dojango on his back. His problem was complicated by Dojango having his arms and legs wrapped around his skinny chest. He couldn’t breathe. He staggered around, banging into things, then went down on his knees.

I got a choke rope on him, pried Dojango loose, then looked around.

The grolls had their men subdued. Morley was coming back from the window empty-handed and looking puzzled.

I caught my breath, straightened my clothing, and led Zeck Zack into a better light, where Morley patted him down for hardware and other lethal surprises. The centaur remained glassy-eyed.

“What happened?” I asked Morley.

“I don’t know. I got there three seconds after it went through the glass. And there was nothing. Not a sign of it.”

“What was it?”

“I can’t even tell you that. I never got a good look.”

The grolls brought the two men over and plunked them down on the floor. They were in a playful mood after events at the inn. They had plucked these birds, too.

“Did you see me, Morley?” Dojango bubbled. “Did you see me? I mean, actually, I took the damned thing down. Did you see me, Morley?”

“Yes. I saw. Shut up, Dojango.”

Morley seemed troubled.

He kept looking toward the broken window.

“Well, you’ve got him, Garrett. Are you going to do something with him?”

“Yeah. All right.” I looked at Zeck Zack. “I have a problem, Mr. Zeck.” Centaurs stick their family names up front, figuring their antecedents are more important. “People keep trying to whip me and I can’t figure out why.”

Zeck Zack had nothing to say. He’d heard me, though.

“All right. I’m going to tell you a story. Then you can tell me one. If I like yours we can part as friends.”

Still no reaction. I had a feeling Zeck Zack was tough, and had been through the narrow passage before. He was cool enough. He would do what had to be done.

“Once upon a time up north a guy died. He left everything to a gal he knew when he was in the army. His father hired me to come find her and see if she wanted the legacy. A simple job. A kind I do all the time. Only this time I get people ambushing me and sending thugs to work me over, and nobody anywhere giving me a straight answer. So you might say I’m a little fussed.”

I gave him a chance to comment. He did not. I hadn’t thought he would.

“People are trying to push me. So now I’m pushing back. I’m asking questions. I want answers. What’s with this woman Kayean that’s worth knocking heads?”

He had nothing to say.

“What’s in this to die for? Are you ready to die for it?”

I got a reaction that time. Just a flicker around the eyes. He didn’t think I looked the killer type. But he didn’t know me so couldn’t be sure.

“He’s starting to listen, Garrett,” Morley said. “But we ought to convene this somewhere else. The one that got away could bring reinforcements.”

“I have faith in sugar as an alarm potential. You know anything about centaurs? I’ve never dealt with one.”

“A little. They’re vain, avaricious, mean in most senses of the word, miserly. Overall, not much to recommend. Did I mention that most of them are thieves and liars?”

“Where are their pressure points?”

“Did I mention cowardly? You’re on the right track with that rope. Strangle him slowly. He’ll come across.”

“I don’t want to do it the hard way. Nobody’s been hurt yet. I’d rather talk, work something out where we could get off each other’s backs, and get on with finding the woman. I’m tired of this job. Too many people are interested in us and I don’t know why.”

Zeck Zack sort of nibbled at the bait. He spoke for the first time, piping. I almost laughed at his voice. “Can you prove you’re what you say you are? If you were nothing more, there would be no difficulty between us.”

A wedge!

Morley told Dojango, “Tie up those guys so Doris and Marsha can have their hands free.” One of the two was the greeter who had thought we were hilarious gagsters. He looked the worse for wear.

The grolls helped form a circle around Zeck Zack once they were free of their baby-sitting chores. I handed over every piece of documentation I had. He examined it all minutely. Meanwhile, Morley got antsy.

Zeck Zack said, “This is all silly enough to be true. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. For the moment.”

Morley said, “Garrett, we’re running out of time. Choke him.”

“That would do you no good,” Zeck Zack said. “I might tell you many interesting things but I would tell you nothing of value. My position is exposed. Therefore, I am allowed to know nothing of importance. However, I do know one thing of value to you. If you are what you say you are.”

I waited.

“I know someone who knows someone who could bring you face-to-face with the woman.”

“Yeah?”

“Did I mention treacherous?” Morley asked.

“One more test, of sorts,” Zeck Zack said. “I will recite a list of names, phrases, places. You tell me if you know or have heard of them. I have an ear for the truth.”

I’ve lied successfully to men who thought that. Many times. “Go ahead.”

I scored a mere one half on this one. The same half I scored on the army list. Zeck Zack was amazed by what he heard with his ear for the truth. “You could just be what you say.” He gave me a squint-eyed look. “Yes. It might even make sense . . . I think I know what is happening. It should be put to the test.”

He did some thinking. The rest of us did some waiting, Morley with very poor grace.

Zeck Zack asked,”Where can I leave you a message?”

I used my best raised eyebrow.

“Not trusting me, you will, of course, remove from your present lodgings. I will not possess sufficient manpower to locate you again quickly. I am going to attempt to arrange for you to see the woman and complete your mission. If I am successful, I must be able to get that word to you.”

I had a strong feeling he meant to do just what he said, though not out of any inclination to make my life easier. He had motives I couldn’t fathom. Everyone but me seemed to have shadowed motives.

“The innkeeper where we’re staying now. We’ll leave him feeling kindly toward us.” I removed the choke rope. “I’m going to play a hunch, a long shot, and take a chance on you, centaur. Maybe because I’m getting desperate. If you’ve been bullshitting me to get your behind out of a bind, or if you’re planning on taking another crack at me, you have a problem.”

“Indeed I do. As I said, I am exposed. And vulnerable, as you have demonstrated tonight.”

I thought I would leave everything on that very unsatisfactory note.

Morley, who had been eager to evacuate some time ago, now jumped all over me for wasting half a night.

“Come on, Morley. It’s time to go.”