The Fall of Ventaris (28 page)

All except three. Castor stiffened at her side. “Those are no beggars,” he said in a low voice, and she followed his gaze. Two men were making their way through the crowd, but they seemed better fed and better groomed than any beggar had a right. The first was prematurely graying, and the second was darker of hair and expression. They were accompanied by a boy of perhaps twelve, clad in ragged leathers, who pointed in their direction, and Duchess’ heart nearly stopped when she recognized Malleus and Kakios.

Duchess had not seen the Brutes since Baron Eusbius’ party, but she would never forget them and their whispered threats, and that awful moment of decision between her mission and her beautiful Lysander. She glanced at him and saw that he, too, had recognized the pair. Jana blinked in confusion.
 

The gray-haired man moved to the front of the beggars. “What’s this, Kakios?” His voice was soft and gentle, but every head turned in his direction. “Look at all the people.”

“Indeed, Malleus,” came the equally genial reply. “Strangers all...but I think I know that one.” He pointed at Lysander. “Our little rabbit, do you remember?”
 

“Oh yes,” Malleus crooned. “It got away from us before when the baron’s pretty son got in the way, but there’s no baron here, and no pretty son.” He regarded his companion. “Can we play with it now?”

Kakios smiled innocently. “Soon, soon. First to business.” His gaze swept over them all, finally settling on Duchess. In the growing dark his eyes were pits of darkness. “She’ll step away from those barrows like a good little doll and we’ll let her run back to her Shallows. She can even take the lantern rats with her, and the Domae bitch.” Jana’s grasp of Rodaasi was not perfect but she knew that word. She paled, and the beggars drew back, wary but not quite frightened enough to miss this scene. The Thomases exchanged a glance, and Duchess knew that they’d bolt at the first sign of trouble. A few loaves of bread and Zachary’s leadership were not sufficient to make them face the Brutes. Castor moved to her side, hand on his sword, and regarded the pair blandly.

Malleus appraised him coolly. “What’s this then? A wolf amongst the rabbits?”

 
“If it thinks a snap or two will send us away, it’s wrong. So
very
wrong.” Kakios stepped forward, and Duchess noted with a sinking stomach just how large both of the Brutes were, as tall as Castor and much wider.
 

“Walk away, wolf. Take your boys and your women. But leave the barrows.” Malleus smiled coldly. “And the rabbit. We’ll finish with him.”

Kakios nodded. “We always like to finish.”

Castor was an artist with his blade — she’d seen that underneath the city — and a part of her hungered to turn him loose upon the men who wanted to hurt her precious Lysander, to leave the street running red with their blood. One word and the Shallows would be forever free of their whispering malice. One word and she could banish forever from Lysander’s eyes the knowledge of that dreadful decision she’d made, the one that had nearly torn them apart. One simple, sweet word would close the tally sheet.

She wavered. She knew that if Castor killed the Brutes on her order, by morning the story would be on half the tongues in the city. The news would bring Ophion’s attention, and only the gods knew how he might respond. Every blackarm in the Shallows was at his command, and he had influence higher on the hill as well. Even if he dared not strike at one who wore the cloak, he could still vent his ire on Castor, or Jana...or Lysander.
 

Her moment of indecision was broken by Zachary, who leaned over a barrow and pointed. “I see you, damned ‘sider! Get the fuck out of here,
Nell
!” The child Duchess had taken for a boy had been quietly sliding around to the side towards the barrow that held Jana’s looms. From this distance Duchess saw this dirty-faced urchin was indeed a girl, and none other than the leader of the lightboy gang known as the Outsiders, the Tenth Bell Boys’ bitter enemies. So while the Brutes would be battling Castor, Nell and Zachary would be tearing at each other like spitting cats, and the tale of the night’s bloodshed would run up and down the hill.
 

She could not allow this. Gathering her courage, she left the wheelbarrow and moved to confront Malleus and Kakios, Castor close at her heels. The Brutes seemed unarmed, but there were no doubt knives in various places on their very large persons. “Nell
and
the Brutes all in one evening? I’m honored.” She paused long enough to let all attention focus on her, while slipping an unobtrusive hand into her coin pouch, thankful she’d left the gold back at her apartment. “Drinks for everyone!
I’m buying!
” With that, she pulled out a large handful of coins and threw them high into the air. Copper and silver glittered in the last light of the day as coins rained down on the packed mud of Beggar’s Way.

The effect was immediate. The beggars’ greed outweighed their fear, and in an instant every single one was scrambling for a share. The onlookers got into it as well, and soon dozens of grabbing, cursing and shoving people swarmed around the Brutes, fighting for the coins scattered on the road. Malleus and Kakios were lost in a boiling mass of humanity, and even they could not easily win free.

Nell tried to slip away, but Castor reached out and snagged her in a grip of iron. Duchess turned to the others. “Push! Down that alley and around.” They put their backs into it and moved as quickly as they could along the narrow way between buildings, hoping to cut around the riot in the street. Ordinarily Duchess would never have dared travel the alleys of the Deeps, but today was hardly ordinary. Nothing ahead could be worse than what they were leaving behind.

It was slow going in the narrow alleys choked with trash, and Nell kicked and scratched like a cat, but they finally struggled their way around a few corners and back to Beggar’s Way, now farther up the hill and above the mess Duchess and her money had made. The fracas could no longer be seen, but shouts could still be heard coming up the slope, just ahead of the evening fog. They crossed into the Shallows and Duchess breathed a sigh of relief. Even with Ophion’s protection the Brutes would not dare commit murder openly, not here. Still, it was best not to linger. They moved as quickly as they could, the six of them plus one struggling prisoner, passing north and east through the Shallows and back down the hill to the Wharves and the Foreign Quarter. A few passersby eyed them, but a dark look from Castor dampened their curiosity.
 

They reached the building Tyford had rented her: a three-story wooden construction not far from the docks. A wooden stair zig-zagged its way up the side of the building, providing access to the third floor. The second could be reached from an internal stair. Duchess was relieved to see a red hand painted on the door frame. The protection of the Red did not come cheaply, but it was a necessary expense for a Domae who hoped to trade unmolested. Not even Malleus and Kakios would dare rouse the wrath of the Uncle. That gave her a notion. She handed the key to Jana and started the lightboys unloading the barrows, then turned to the girl Castor still held. She was thin as a broomstick and dirty as might be expected of any Shallows child, but had a fearless look and what Duchess suspected was a rather heavy purse in one of her pockets.

“Let her go,” she said, and Castor released his grip and stood back. The girl shrugged her stained tunic back into place and shot the man a spiteful look, then faced Duchess squarely. “Hello, Nell,” Duchess said, calm as if they’d met in the middle of Market Square. “I’ve heard a good deal about you.” Most of what she’d heard had come from Zachary, before that business with the baron’s dagger. It seemed a lifetime ago, but clearly not much in the Deeps had changed. Rumor held that Nell ruled her pack of lightboys more ruthlessly than any male, having risen to its primacy by wits, cunning and, some insisted, murder. Rumors were as common as rats in the Shallows, but whatever the truth, Nell certainly seemed unfazed by her current plight.

Lysander regarded her sternly, shaking his head. “What on earth possessed you to take up with the Brutes? Is business slow, or are you running out of lightboys to kill?”

Nell sneered. “I thought I’d try killing men for a change. Do you know any?” The Thomases snorted laughter, but Zachary never cracked a smile. Malleus and Kakios were, technically, blackarms, and by custom lightboys
never
cooperated with blackarms.

Unruffled, Lysander flashed a grin. “I know a few men. How
is
your father, by the by? You don’t take much after him, do you? He was uglier but his tits were bigger.”
 

“The only tits you’ve ever seen are on those Shallows dogs you fuck.”

“I knew you looked familiar!” Now Zachary was guffawing loudly and the Thomases were egging on the combatants, but Duchess decided to intervene before Nell responded with something sharper than a jibe.
 

“I respect your nerve,” Duchess said, “although I wish you’d found another use for it tonight besides harassing me and my business partner. But that’s all behind us.” Duchess found herself admiring the girl’s grit. She herself might have ended up like Nell were it not for the intervention of Noam and the Grey. She considered how best to handle this situation, then remembered what the Uncle had said about friendship. “I don’t know who hired you, but I imagine from that purse in your pocket it was someone with a bit of coin to spare. Considering how things fell out, I doubt you’re going to get the rest of your pay. Still, you obviously have good sources of information. You knew exactly where we’d be tonight, and when. I could use a friend like that.” She let that sink in. “I can pay for any other information you come across...so long as you whisper your secrets only to me. That’s how friends should be, don’t you think?”

Nell watched her warily, and Duchess was nearly taken off-guard when the girl lunged suddenly towards Jana and the loom she was removing from one of the barrows. Nell was as quick as a cat, but Duchess had caught cats who were quicker and she seized the girl by the arm before she could do any damage. She whirled and Duchess snatched back her hand when she saw the gleam of metal from her sleeve, slicing down where Duchess’ fingers had been. Duchess whipped out her own blade and held it at the ready, but before Nell could make a second strike Castor seized her. “Drop it, girl,” he said almost casually. His hand tightened slowly on the arm that held the blade. Nell hung on grimly for a long moment, teeth gritted. Lysander was shaking his head, the lightboys were goggling, and Jana looked shocked at the whole affair. Finally, Nell released her knife, which Castor swept up with a deft motion and handed to Duchess.

Duchess took a deep breath to focus her anger. Minette had once said that a quiet word was louder than a shout. “I’m disappointed, Nell, but I guess I can’t blame you for trying. Your job was to break the looms, wasn’t it?” Nell glared at her and did not reply. “If you’d like to make the other half of your pay you can talk to me. If not, you can leave with no harm done. But if you turn down my friendship now, I don’t want any more trouble from you. Ever. Because the next time I have to draw a blade on you will be the last.”

Jana gave her a wide-eyed look, but Nell’s gaze was more speculative, and just as Duchess was about to speak she said, “They told us to take ‘em or break ‘em.” She gave Duchess a defiant look. “But I won’t tell you who paid me, so you can keep your gods-damned money.” She spat on the street.

Duchess smiled. “Fair enough,” she said, tossing the dagger at the girl’s feet. “Come back and see me when you’re ready for my friendship. And my gods-damned money.” Nell snatched up the blade and ran off, disappearing around a bend.

“Are you sure you want friendship from that one?” Lysander asked. “She didn’t tell you anything about who hired her.”

“That’s a point in her favor,” Duchess replied, shooing the lightboys back to work. “If she won’t give up someone to me, she probably wouldn’t give me up to someone else.”

Lysander and Zachary exchanged a dubious look. “All the same, I wouldn’t turn my back on her if I were you,” Lysander said. “Last person to do that got his head bashed in with a rock.”

Duchess flapped a hand. “People are always saying things like that about women who make their own way,” she told him. “That rumor was probably started by whatever lightboy lost the leadership of the Outsiders to her.” Lysander said nothing more, instead accepting Zachary’s help to heft a rolled carpet from the wheelbarrow.
 

Duchess felt a touch on her arm, and turned to see Jana, looking both frazzled and weary. “Those men, who made their threats...they were thieves?”

Duchess saw no point in lying. “Blackarms, actually. I’ve had...some dealings with them in the past.”

“But do not blackarms keep the peace?”

Duchess frowned. “Well, yes, but sometimes...in the Shallows, you see, there’s a man named Ophion, and he...” Jana was already giving her a puzzled look. She thought for a moment of trying to explain the whole ordered insanity that was Rodaas. Instead, she just threw up her hands. “I’ll explain later. Let’s just get you unloaded.”

*
 
*
 
*

The barrows had been unpacked, the lightboys paid and dismissed, and Castor had gone to a tavern and fetched them supper: cold meats, bread, and ale. They were finished most of the remaining work by the time he returned and were ready for a break. The Domae weaver had a way of making even the rudest accommodations seem comfortable, and that night was no exception. Jana had unpacked and arranged all of her floor-pillows and spread out some fabric like a tablecloth, making an impromptu but suitable dining area.

Duchess appraised her new rental. The place needed a serious cleaning, but any repairs would have to wait until she and Jana actually began to sell cloth. The first-floor room would soon serve as the main shop area and work space, Jana would use the second floor for storage and her own sleeping quarters. The third floor they had yet to find a use for. Perhaps Tyford would allow her to rent it out herself, so she could reduce costs. Of course, that would mean letting a stranger hang around the property, but Lysander would no doubt know of someone trustworthy who was looking for a place to live.