Starwatch Page 14

  “But you can’t be sure any Draugans will stop Alander.”

  “Naturally. That’s why I plan to make certain they accost him. I’m skilled at convincing strangers to tussle with one another.”

  “They won’t wave him past?”

  “Alander fancies himself a fine Asdori gentleman, and carries a rapier to stress his dignity. A punishable offense during curfew hours for someone without papers. No legionary would turn a blind eye to an infringement like that. And poor unsuspecting Alander won’t hide the blade, since he doesn’t go anywhere without his documents. Or an insatiable need to emphasis his own self-worth. Plus then I’ll know for sure whether you swiped the right parchment. If not, I can return to my assault over the head strategy and take everything he owns to be safe.”

  Desin pointed toward dark glass she held in one hand. “Is that what the bottle is for?”

  “Haven’t decided. I like having versatile tools.”

  “See you back at the inn. Be safe out there.”

  “Don’t you worry. I’m going to enjoy the crap out of this.”

  *

  Hands clasped behind his back, Alander Tysir strolled the deserted avenue with a hooked nose held high. Compensating for being inexplicably spurned by a woman, Maylene surmised. She followed at a discreet distance, hugging walls and remaining within shadows. Light spilled from lanterns at regular intervals and Alander showed no hesitation in walking the streets alone after nightfall. Arroyo residents were a coddled breed living in their tranquil bubble. Let him try such ill-advised arrogance in a city where Maylene’s criminal ilk roamed. She suspected his survival in Ercora or Soroth might last a solitary week. Body collectors would find his stiff, conceited corpse the sunrise after he presumed to think himself untouchable. No doubt still wearing a haughty expression.

  She sighted two female legionaries standing at a crossroads ahead and watching the boulevard opposite. As Alander neared their position Maylene realized with belated frustration that neither sentry would spy his passage. He must be on a less frequented road, since both Draugans faced a broader thoroughfare.

  Cursing in muted tones, Maylene scampered closer and hunched alongside an empty wagon tucked partially beneath one awning. She hoisted the bottle in her hand and hurled it near Alander, missing intentionally high on an arch toward one stone wall. Glass shattered with a piercing shriek and Maylene snickered at Alander’s stupefied reaction. He pitched himself backward and barely remained upright, scrabbling against a lamppost to steady his footing. Legionaries turned at the harsh noise clutching swords and noticed a lone figure. Scarlet cloaks billowed from their shoulders and segmented armor plates clattered as the pair approached at an undignified jog. White and black plumes waved atop iron helms.

  “Hold citizen,” one woman commanded.

  Alander halted in the orange glow beneath a lamp and scratched his chin through coarse hairs, struggling to regain any lost dignity. “Good evening, soldiers. Might I be of assistance?”

  One sucked her teeth and eyed his waist. “Lovely blade strapped to your hip.”

  He patted the burnished pommel and smiled with more affection than he had shown Maylene. “You have a keen eye. Of course, I wouldn’t expect any less from legionaries.”

  “Valmorran steel?”

  “Only the finest for a man of worth. The hilt is wrapped in oceanic vargholskin, and the velvet scabbard rimmed with silver.”

  “Are you aware traveling armed during curfew hours is illegal under Imperial law? Confiscating the weapon at minimum, with the potential for imprisonment.”

  “Same goes for wandering the streets after dark without light,” noted the other woman.

  “I have authorization to do both,” Alander claimed.

  “Happy to hear it. Once we verify the papers you can be on your way.”

  “Certainly.” Alander tucked one hand into a vest pocket and his expression changed from cheerful to distressed. Maylene savored the sight from her hidden vantage point.

  By now the legionaries shifted stances as though their patience was lessening. Alander grew more frazzled, scouring each pocket and nook available on his clothing. “I had it earlier this evening. But I don’t…I don’t know where it is.”

  “You mean to tell us you don’t have exemption documents?” one soldier asked.

  “That doesn’t bode well for your night,” remarked the other.

  “It’s here,” he asserted. “I know it is. I never venture outside without my papers.”

  “All evidence to the contrary, it seems you might’ve.”

  “Carrying blades without exemption is a criminal offense.”

  “I know what it means!” Alander shouted.

  “Care to try again?” questioned one woman. Her voice held an icy edge.

  “Forgive me.” He removed a hand from his pocket and wiped a sweaty brow. “I’m feeling flustered. I remember having the documents earlier this evening.”

  “Though you have no proof to support this claim.”

  One woman leaned closer for a moment. “And you reek of booze.”

  “My name is Alander Tysir.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance. You can call me Ma’am. Same goes for her.”

  Maylene watched a mystified expression appear on Alander’s face, as though baffled the ignorant legionaries showed no recognition at the mention of his name. The man truly did lug around a colossal ego.

  “Have you never heard of me?” he demanded.

  “Oh, shoot. I’ve been taking the time to memorize every name and face in the city.” She tapped her helm with a faint clink. “All thirty-two thousand of ‘em. But I still have a couple hundred left to go. You must be in that pile. What rotten luck.”

  Her compatriot seemed less inclined to sarcasm. “Unless you’re a commanding officer in the legions, then we damn well don’t know or care who you are.”

  “I’m an employee of Vinaldor himself,” replied Alander.

  “Doing what, filing papers and sealing envelopes? Maybe a little cleaning on the side?”

  “I manage the lending arm of his enterprise.”

  “Sounds important,” one soldier responded, glancing to her companion. “Doesn’t he issue travel documents to his influential staff?”

  “I have one!” Alander bellowed.

  “Not tonight you don’t. And this right here is the only time that matters.”

  “You’ll have to accept my word that I misplaced my exemption papers.”

  “No, we don’t. You might not have heard, but in the Empire civilians don’t command soldiers. Whether you consent to our decision or not, we’re escorting you to a magistrate. You can plead your case before him.” She held out one hand. “And until that time you’ll relinquish your blade.”

  “I’ll make certain your officers hear about this mistreatment,” Alander warned.

  “Is that a promise? Because he’ll be thrilled and might even take me off this shit nightly patrol. Please do complain with my blessing. Ooh, can you claim I roughed you up a little, too? Officers love when we’re hands-on with malcontents.”

  “How dare you refer to me—”

  The other woman lifted her gauntlet and Alander barely stopped himself before making contact. “Be careful what threats and insults you lob at us. Keeping us happy is in your best interest. Otherwise a confiscated sword will be the least of your concerns. We’ve been exceedingly patient with your antics and I’m about to lose my tolerance completely. Follow us willingly or be dragged sobbing hysterically. Your choice.”

  Her companion rested one gauntlet on a protruding sword hilt. “Please choose the second one.”

  Alander’s shoulders sagged and he nodded. “I’ll attend willingly.”

  “Excellent. Now I won’t ask you again. Your sword.”

  He unfastened the scabbard from his belt and slapped velvet into her awaiting palm. “Do not let one scratch mar that blade.”

  “You have my word.” She turned and motioned him onwa
rd. “This way.”

  Maylene watched the legionaries flank Alander and depart from sight. She stood and dusted grit from her trousers, pondering why those soldiers were unaccountably forgiving and polite. In her experience army grunts were not famed for having a sympathetic nature. Small minds given a taste of authority did not promote leniency. Perhaps these ones acted in a peculiar way because Alander looked the part of a respected gentleman not prone to falsehoods. Wearing her normal grubby clothes, Maylene suspected she might be shown less forbearance and courtesies. Given time, a peaceable city with no recent history of conflict also softened garrisoning troops. Plus those soldiers did not look to be hardened veterans of the Almayan rebellion.

  She ambled alongside closed shops, taking care to remain in shadows. Maylene could grow accustomed to undertaking jobs in a place like this. So woefully unprepared for her kind.

  Chapter 10

  Fools are everywhere, and a persuasive tongue can recruit the ideal pawn to do your bidding. Make them feel appreciated, fill their pockets with silver, satisfy a yearning for revenge, it doesn’t matter. I’ve used a dozen different tactics to wrap someone around my finger. And each attempt worked, because I appealed to their sordid desires.

  From the Trial of Farien Taerlon, Day 5

  308 Black Ruin, Year of the Tangled Glade

  16 Kilessin

  Maylene swallowed wine from a pewter goblet and surveyed the tavern’s denizens above its crumpling rim. Scattered twilight struggled to pierce windows evidently not on speaking terms with soap or even water. Perpetual gloom suited her tastes fine for this errand, since clueless males were unlikely to saunter over and mumble some idiotic attempt at flattery or seduction. Men could not lust after a woman enveloped in blissful murk. Or at least with less frequency, since she had already turned one away with a cheerful promise to enlist him in the country’s eunuch ranks free of charge.

  She cast eyes toward a petite figure draped in loose fabrics at the alehouse’s threshold. The delicate girl flitted through the establishment with a hood drawn over her head, unnoticed or dismissed by hardened clientele. Galens were nigh untouchable in this city, though only when traveling in conspicuous garb. Kimiko donned unassuming clothes instead, passing herself as one more lonely wanderer. Maylene clenched fingers around a worn leather grip tucked into her belt and waited for a drunken patron to turn presumptive. Fortunately the newcomer truly was unremarkable and not worth undue attention. Maylene released her weapon and caught Kimiko’s uncertain gaze with an upraised hand.

  “Evening,” she purred. “I’m pleased you were receptive to my invitation.”

  Kimiko settled into a groaning chair and withdrew the hood, uncovering olive hued skin flushed with sweat. She placed small hands on the table and drummed her fingers.

  “Loosen up, girlie. You look all manner of guilty or on the path to a nefarious deed. For a sweet teenager to pull that expression off is saying something. Tone down the stress before we attract undue notice. We can’t have prying chaps wondering why we might be meeting in shadows, looking all suspicious.”

  Kimiko inhaled a breath and tucked one imaginary black strand behind her ear. Since each hair was fastidiously gathered into a solitary braid, Maylene wondered if it might be a habitual compulsion brought on by anxiety. The girl must be a wreck during her examinations.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not used to this.”

  Maylene lifted a clay bottle and grinned. “Do you drink?”

  “Not usually, no.”

  “You do now.” She poured amber liquid into one mug and slid it across to Kimiko. “Down the hatch. It’ll settle your nerves some.”

  She lifted her cup in tentative hands and sipped pear wine sweetened with honey. Droplets glittered on her scowling lips.

  “Feel better? Drink a few more bottles and you’ll like it plenty, I’d wager. Interested in eating at all? It’s on me.”

  “Not hungry,” Kimiko answered, sliding a queasy tongue from her mouth.

  Maylene slouched one arm atop a neighboring chair. “Try not to hate the booze so much. Aren’t you a student? I thought your kind was notorious for carousing and disdaining that woeful affliction of sobriety.”

  “I’m sixteen.”

  “Shit, you galens really are naïve. Cram your noses in ancient books long enough and you forget life in the real world. I’m only ten years your senior, and I have fond memories of drunken escapades stretching back fifteen years. Truthfully, those memories are fuzzy and difficult as hell to recall, but that’s the bloody point. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Kimiko flicked her eyes over a shoulder and hunched in her chair. “This isn’t the sort of place I normally choose to dine.”

  “Course it isn’t. I don’t want your chums spying you with a strange woman and asking questions. No reason to feel a tad squeamish around all these cuddly characters though. This is my territory and I watch over my own.”

  “Your own?”

  “That’s what you are now, lass. My willing agent.”

  “Maybe this is all a mistake.”

  “You need to decide what’s more important to you. Starwatch can keep one dusty scroll no one ever reads, or you can continue your schooling and grow up helping folks. Only one of those can be true. Be honest, which is more appealing to you?”

  The girl swallowed a lump and cast blue eyes to hands folded around her mug. “Staying here and finishing my training.”

  “Correct answer. I hope this realization colors your thinking from here on out.”

  “I won’t forget.”

  “I should hope not. I’m sure there are plenty bribery opportunities for me out there, but I’m your only hope of solving these maddening conundrums.”

  Kimiko scratched a furrowed brow. “What, um, happens now?”

  “We’ve chosen to bequeath you with enough silver for your next semester, but nothing more. Not until you’ve proven a worthwhile investment.”

  “And afterward?”

  “You’ll get what you’ve earned for services rendered. If you can’t answer most questions I have, don’t hoist your expectations high. But prove yourself invaluable and we’ll see to it you never have to want for money again. A month’s servitude to us and you can reside here until you’re a full galen. I know the thought pleases you, kid.”

  “Before I do this, I need your word that no one will be hurt. Please.”

  “I suppose now is as good a time as any to offer this warning. Don’t get into the habit of making demands and listing stipulations. I won’t be accommodating if you do. But I’ll tolerate this one because you’re still young and practicing naiveté like it’s a summer fashion. No one will be hurt by our hands. Our business is acquiring artifacts without being seen, and we’re enviably skilled at it. I have never killed while on the job before and I don’t intend to forego my streak. You’re free to think my hesitation stems from sentimentality, but the fact is killing makes my task messier. I abhor murder because it slows me down and smacks of amateurish handiwork. Morality is a useless concept conjured by philosophers so they have something to waste time discussing. I’m a professional, not some sloppy novice. You can trust my word for that reason alone. Don’t misunderstand me however, because I’m no saint. I have killed many people in my life. I have a knack for committing the deed. Just none while performing what I was hired for.” Maylene slurped sweet wine and cleaned her mouth with a sleeve. “But if it makes you sleep easy, fine. I solemnly vow not to hurt a living soul. I can’t promise one of your literati chums won’t get stupid and force my hand, but I’ll do what I can to avoid the situation. Beyond that there aren’t guarantees in this profession.”

  “Okay,” Kimiko consented, licking one slender lip. “What is it you’re stealing?”

  “Sorry, sweetie. You don’t find that out. It’ll need to be enough for you to learn our valuable item is kept in the library.”

  “You’re certain what you want is in the House of Wisdom? Not every ar
tifact is kept on those floors.”

  “Quite certain. The relic we covet is on the third story, but we haven’t any clue beyond that.”

  “I’m only a learner,” explained Kimiko. “I can’t enter the highest library. Not until I’m an adept, and that’ll be years from now.”

  “I don’t need you to stroll in and stuff the parchment into your pocket. That’s for us to accomplish. We only need to learn about obstacles awaiting us. I don’t doubt you can discover what those are. The more thorough you are, the greater our chances of achieving this without trouble. In return you won’t need to pack your bags and mope about an unjust expulsion. If you miss a challenge that confounds us, you get nothing. It’s in your best interest to be meticulous.”

  Kimiko nodded, unravelling a bang from her knotted hair. “I can…I can do that. I already know some elements that might help you.”

  “By all means, share with the rest of us.”

  “The third level is restricted at all times except to those with a key. All senior librarians carry one, and beyond that only two others that I know about, though there might be others. I’d be surprised if members of the Governing Circle don’t each have one. But the ones I know for certain are Galen Chaereas and Almar Graycloak, Captain of the Starwatch Guard.”

  “Look at you, proving beneficial at the outset. We didn’t know who had keys. Who’s this Chayray?”

  “Chaereas. He’s the Headmaster for Starwatch. The honcho galen, I guess you could say.”

  “Can you tell me where the chambers are for anyone with a key?”

  “The librarians share a common dormitory in the west atrium on ground level. Galen Chaereas and others in the Governing Circle have studies on the eighth floor and Captain Graycloak resides on the first. I can draw you a rough layout.”

  “Make sure you do.” Maylene rubbed an inexplicably itchy chin and pursed her lips. “Dormitories are notoriously difficult to breach. It’s a damned certainty someone will always be loitering about. For now let’s ignore the librarians. The other two are promising though. Far easier to ensure one man is away and unlikely to return. I might need to go with the study up on floor eight. There’ll be less foot traffic than down on the ground level. But we’ll explore this topic later. For now I’ve some questions to toss your way.”