The Price of Faith (31 page)

“Cross this one quickly, Arbiter. You don’t want to see what goes on below deck.”

“What could possibly…”

“You don’t want to know, Arbiter. Hells I don’t want to know. Let’s just move on quick.”

Thanquil warred with his curiosity and won, following Ianic as he rushed across the deck of
Dragon’s Dare
. The ex-pirate led them through a winding route across ships and further into the heart of Fortune’s Rest. On each ship he explained its current purpose and what services it had to offer. Thanquil saw midget people fighting and customers betting on the outcome and on the very next ship he heard a roar come from below deck, Ianic explained they set packs of wolves against bears down below. Thanquil couldn’t decide if he was more worried that people would be willing to pay to watch such or that Drake had brought both bear and wolves out to see to satisfy the desire.

The number of customers increased as they approached the centre of the fleet and while some looked a lot like the more common folk of the wilds, many looked to be rich individuals or couples, and many did not look as though they came from the wilds at all.

“Folk travel from everywhere to spend their money at the Rest,” Ianic said. “Some never leave, get in over their heads and have to work it off, find themselves a life.”

“Slaves,” Thanquil said.

Ianic shook his head. “No slaves at the Rest. Not one. Drake don’t allow it. Had a slaver pull up a year or so back, hold full of folk waiting to be sold and the captain of the ship wanting to hold here for a few days while he got himself some pleasure. Drake didn’t look on that too kind. Seized the slave ship, killed the crew, freed the slaves and added the ship to the Rest. Some of those slaves work here still.”

“So the people who get over their heads…” Thanquil prompted.

“Those are willing to work get put to it, pay off their debts and then they’re free to go or stay as they please. Those not willing to work… We have a more permanent solution for them. Makes an example. Not many folk not willing to pay off their debts these days.”

“How have I never heard of this place?” Thanquil asked himself.

Ianic took it upon himself to answer. “Don’t reckon many of your kind have, don’t reckon there’s many witch hunters been invited.”

“For fear we would come in numbers and shut it all down,” Thanquil said looking around in both wonder and disgust. Hundreds upon hundreds of ships and he had seen only a handful and in that handful he had seen much of the worst people had to offer; women and men whoring themselves out to any that had the coin and willing to debase themselves in any way for that coin. People paying money to watch others beat each other to death. Drug addicts so cooked by their own particular choice of vice that they could no longer function without it. Thanquil knew how addiction worked all too well and knew the dangers of indulging. He judged most of the people here were addicted to something; pain, pleasure, drugs. He doubted there were any real heretics here but that wouldn’t stop the Inquisition shutting the place down just in case.

“This is it,” Thanquil said. The ship they had come to was named
Teigun’s Treason
, a sleek craft of Five Kingdoms’ origin and it had a small host of armed guards waiting on the outside of the hatch. Above decks towards the aft of the ship a group of men were sitting, enjoying the cool night and playing a card game on a table lit by a windowed lantern.

“Aye,” said Ianic. “This is it. This and the next two ships on are all gaming dens. But they don’t play for free, Arbiter. You’ll need some coin if you expect to try your luck.”

Thanquil reached into the breast of his still soggy coat and pulled out a small purse, he judged there was only a few coins inside and he doubted they were of anything but the smallest currency but it was a start and he would wager he could have many times the amount in no time.

Ianic looked confused. “Thought you said you’d lost ya purse.”

“I found another one,” Thanquil replied.

Ianic patted down his pockets and was relieved to find his own purse still in his possession. The ex-pirate backed off a step. “Reckon I’ll leave ya here then, Arbiter. One word of warning though; the house always wins.” With that the man turned and walked quickly away. Thanquil watched him go, watched him look backwards more than once to make certain he wasn’t being followed. Only when Ianic was well and truly out of sight did Thanquil turn towards the guards at the hatch and approach with a wide smile.

One of the guards, a woman with a crooked nose, short brown hair and breasts that barely registered as bumps underneath her tunic, stepped forward between Thanquil and the hatch. “What’s your business here, witch hunter.”

Thanquil leaned in close and was rewarded by the woman taking a hasty step backwards. “I prefer Arbiter. No business. I’m here for pleasure,” he said spreading both his hands. “Gambling is a hobby of mine and I hear there’s no better place to lose a few bits.”

The woman looked far from convinced. She looked Thanquil up and down, her eyes lingering on the covered blade that hung at his belt. The lure of Myorzo had become such a constant in his world Thanquil had almost forgotten he had it. Now he thought about it he could hear the whispers again and, judging by the woman’s slack expression, she could hear the voices too. Thanquil quickly pulled his coat closer about him, covering the blade with its leather embrace. The woman shook herself free from the trance and wrenched her attention back to Thanquil.

“We don’t take weapons from folk, Arbiter, but we do ask that you don’t use them. If asking fails we then tend to insist and I assure you we don’t insist peacefully.”

Thanquil started towards the hatch. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He descended in a dimly lit clamour heavy with the smell of sweat and casher weed. The ship was full of tables bolted to the wooden floor and each was in use. Betting games from card gambling to dice rolling to scorpion racing, there were even some Thanquil had never heard of including one that seemed to involve small clay tiles each with a symbol scribed upon it, some of them actually looked a little like runes and Thanquil quickly decided to thieve a few of the tiles to replenish his own lost supply of prepared runes.

A few of the customers had taken notice of him, some watched with wary eyes, others eyed him up only as a mark, one more body to take money from. Ianic may have warned that the house always wins but not all games of chance were played against a house and it was always far easier to cheat other gamblers than it was the establishment.

Thanquil couldn’t help but notice there were even more armed pirates masquerading as guards down below. He was sure if any of them caught him cheating he would soon find himself back in the water and that was something he most certainly did not want but he was also well aware that he had never been caught yet.

There was a trick to gambling and it was different from the art of thieving. Pick pocketing took nimble fingers, quick reactions and the ability to assess potential marks, to determine which were paranoid and paying attention to their purses or jewellery and which were oblivious to the epidemic of thievery that infested every part of humanity. Cheating at gambling required misdirection or, as Thanquil had long ago learned, he could just use magic to cheat.

The three schools of magic each Arbiter received tutoring in were Runes and Charms, Blessings and Curses, and Sorcery. Of the three Thanquil had always excelled at the use of Blessings and Curses; he was, in fact, one of only four members of the Inquisition who could weave together five Blessings into a single stream, that was a feat even the Grand Inquisitor had never mastered. Sorcery, however, was not one of Thanquil’s specialities.

The school of Sorcery was most akin to the power of witches. It was not the Arbiter’s own power fuelling the magic but instead that of Volmar. The Arbiter used their body as a conduit for the God’s power to effect the world and in doing so Volmar could wreak his own changes upon it. There were some Arbiters, not to mention both Inquisitors of the family Vance, who specialised in Sorcery and they were without a doubt a force to be reckoned with and one Thanquil truly hoped he never had to. His own use of Sorcery was confined to parlour tricks and the occasional exploding wall and he was well aware the latter wouldn’t so much help in this situation as it would cause a watery death.

Stepping up to a dice table Thanquil reached into his stolen purse and pulled out a coin, a single silver bit; wilds currency. “Mind if I roll,” he said already reaching for the dice.

The gambler beside him backed away a step but the pirate watching over the table, dolling out any winning and collecting the losses, inclined her head. “Simple game, witch hunter. You name the number and roll. Your number comes up you take your coin plus another. Your number don’t come up, I take your coin and you get to put down another. Savvy?”

“Sounds fair. Four.” He picked up the dice, whispered a word to them and rolled a double two.

“It’s one o’ them, ain’t it.” Came the voice from behind. Thanquil ignored it.

After just a few hours he was well and truly up. The regular use of magic was leaving him feeling a little drained especially coupled with the lack of sleep but he had turned a few silver bits into a handful of gold. The trick was not to play one game for too long so as not to garner too much in the way of suspicion. Also he was fairly certain being a much maligned witch hunter and feared by everyone helped with avoiding said suspicion.

“You know I do believe she’s right, boss. He does look quite like one of them,” the second voice was male and carried the unmistakeable lightness of good humour.

“Reckon ya jus’ took piss, I do,” the first voice again, female and unrefined. Thanquil sighed and picked up his cards; a tree and the sun, all he needed now was a fire and…

“You know it’s really not becoming for such a small lady to speak in such a way.”

“Oh, I see. An’ tell me; how becomin’ is it fer a small lady ta forcefully interpose a dagger up ya posterior?”

There was a moment’s silence. “Not very.”

“Right, so how’s ‘bout ya shut the fuck up?”

“There really is no communicating with her when she gets like this, boss. Could we not just put her back in the alley from which we took her?”

Thanquil paid for another card and pulled a spear, he flicked the edge of the card once and it took on the appearance of a fire. He laid all three cards on the table to a collective sigh from the other gamblers and then pulled the bits toward him.

“Well ain’t ya gonna kill him?” said the first voice again. Thanquil started shoving the ill-gotten gains into his purse and decided it might be time to turn around to face his oncoming killer.

“Don’t reckon I will, no,” came another male voice, one Thanquil recognised. “Don’t do that no more, Ril. Besides…”

Thanquil turned around and stared into the face of a ghost. The Black Thorn stopped mid-sentence with his mouth slightly ajar. He looked different; less hair on his head and more on his face, a couple more scars around the burn maybe but it was hard to tell. Also his left eye appeared to be missing unless he was wearing the patch as a fashion statement.

“Thorn?”

The Black Thorn winced as Thanquil’s compulsion locked onto his will. “Aye,” he said with a grunt. “Was that really fuckin’ necessary, Thanquil?”

Thanquil broke into a wide grin and was relieved to see it mirrored on the Black Thorn’s face though distorted into a horrific pulling of melted flesh on the left side.

“I heard ya were dead,” Thorn said, walking forwards and clapping Thanquil so hard on the shoulder he stumbled.

“That so. I heard the same about you.”

Thorn laughed. “Aye, that one’s been doin’ the rounds fer a while now as it happens. Truth is it’s a bit harder ta kill me than most folk realise. Never seems ta stop ‘em tryin’ though.”

Thanquil laughed. “It’s good to see you again, Thorn. Looks like you have a whole new crew these days.”

“Aye,” Thorn said nodding. “I’ll introduce ya. This fancy fuck is Anders, the little cunt is Rilly, that one is Ben…”

“Six-Cities Ben,” said Ben.

Thorn ignored the interruption. “The big one at the back is Suzku and I reckon ya already know Henry.”

Thanquil had overlooked the small woman hiding at the back of the group but now she tilted back her cavalier hat and gave Thanquil a lopsided grin. “Arbiter,” she said by way of greeting.

“Good to see you again, Henry. Wasn’t sure you made it out of Hostown,” Thanquil replied. “You should have seen Thorn, cried like a newborn.”

The little murderess laughed and shoved her hands into her pockets, she seemed less angry than Thanquil remembered. “Where’s that whore ya used ta crew with?” Henry asked. “The one that near threw me into the Jorl.”

“Aye,” Thorn butt in. “Where is Jezzet?”

It was the last thing Thanquil wanted reminding of, not that it had ever been far from his mind. “Drake has her.”

Anders stepped up beside Thorn. “Drake has her? He kidnapped her?”

“Well…” Thanquil started, stopped and scratched at his scarred arm. “Not exactly. She kind of went willingly.”

“That makes more sense,” Anders replied. There was something familiar about him, Thanquil couldn’t quite shake the feeling he had seen the man before.

“Sorry, Thanquil,” the Black Thorn said. “Hard ta keep the interest of a lass like Jezzet Vel’urn, I reckon.”

“No,” Thanquil said. “That’s not it. She… She had to go or… I’m looking for Drake. He has her and I need the truth from him.”

“Ya should try askin’ Anders where the bastard is,” the little woman called Rilly said while picking at something between her teeth. “Blooded cocksucker works fer him.”

The Black Thorn let out a groan.

Thanquil looked at Anders. Anders smiled back at Thanquil.

He grabbed Anders by the collar and dragged him forwards, span him around and slammed the man down onto the card table. He struggled a little, attempting to push back but Thanquil was the stronger of the two and he just slammed Anders back down again. “Where is here?” he demanded.