Prisoner of Fate (20 page)

Furniture crashed to the floor and the candles scattered, and the brothel girls crowded in the hall entrance behind Rose. Chase released his sister to Rose’s arms and looked into the room. Wahim and the client were fighting. The client was as powerfully built as Wahim and the fighting was brutal, but the client eventually went down to a solid punch. As Wahim bent to pin him, the client kicked at the bouncer’s legs and sent Wahim sprawling across the shattered bed frame.
The client staggered to his feet, sank a quick kick into Wahim’s face before the bouncer could recover, and lunged for the doorway. Chase tripped him. The falling man’s head crashed into the wall, and as he hit the floor Chase kicked him solidly in the right kidney. Resorting to the street-fighting tricks that saved his skin as a youth, he jumped over the prone figure and punched him in the base of the skull and his victim grunted.

Wahim crashed out of the room and fell on the man’s back, pinning him and wheezing, ‘Got you, you bastard.’ He smacked the client’s head with the heel of his hand. ‘And that’s for not knowing when you’re beaten,’ he growled triumphantly.

‘
H
e’s one of Mrs Merchant’s thugs,’ Chase announced, staring at the bound, gagged and bloodied prisoner in the red room.

‘He works for the Joker?’ Wahim rasped, his throat bruised from the brawl.

‘He and his mates gave me a send-off when I went there a couple of weeks ago.’

‘He was asking about you,’ Passion said. ‘When I wouldn’t tell him anything, he said he was going to beat it out of me.’ She glared at the prisoner.

‘Why so much interest in you and your sister?’ Rose asked. ‘Did you do the Joker’s place over?’

‘No,’ Chase replied. ‘I went to see her.’

‘Really?’

Rose’s raunchy tone raised a brief grin from Chase, before he explained, ‘It was a message I promised to deliver from her grandfather when I was in the Bog Pit. He asked me to give it to her.’

‘Well, that’s cute,’ Rose remarked. ‘What did you have to tell her that was so important?’

‘Something about the Seers and the Demon Horsemen,’ Chase explained.

‘The Demon Horsemen? You mean
the
Demon Horsemen of the old religious stories?’ Rose asked.

Chase nodded. ‘The old man said the Seers were going to recall them. It’s a plot to get Prince Shadow on the throne.’

‘Sounds like a load of bullshit to me,’ Wahim growled. ‘All your Kerwyn and Shessian religious stuff’s bullshit.’

‘Well, we know the Demon Horsemen aren’t real,’ Rose protested. ‘I remember hearing all those stories when my mother used to take us to the temples. There were stories about the Demon Horsemen and Jarudha’s Paradise. They scared me when I was a little kid.’

‘So why’d you want to get mixed up in all that religious and political shit?’ Wahim asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Chase replied. ‘I felt sorry for the old man. He’d been in the Bog Pit for more than fifteen years. I figured because he was a Seer maybe he knew something I didn’t.’

‘A Seer?’ Rose queried.

‘Seer Sunlight,’ Passion explained.

‘A Seer was locked in the Bog Pit?’ Rose gasped. ‘And you wanted to help a Seer?’

‘I felt I owed the old man something. He was the only person in that stinking gaol to offer me some kindness when I first got put in there.’

‘The problem is,’ said Wahim, ‘what are we going to do with the Joker’s friend here?’

‘Ask him a few questions first,’ said Chase.

Humiliation was not a state Hunter accepted graciously. The whores, their bouncer and the thief humiliated him by tying him up and interrogating him, and the whores were malicious in what they did to convince him to talk. Not that he had much to share—except the knowledge that Mrs Merchant was trying to find out everything she
could concerning the thief. Then, without returning his clothes, they put him in a cart under a tarpaulin and dropped him within a few paces of King’s Bridge in full view of the Kerwyn soldiers. By the time the laughing soldiers untied him and gave him a scrap of cloth to cover his indignity, he was seething with anger and afraid to return to Mrs Merchant’s house. But he had no alternative. Mrs Merchant’s irritation at his failure, when he told her what had happened, was as abrasive as his colleagues’ derisive teasing. Some time, he’d repay the thief and his whores for what they’d done to him. He swore that to himself as he took the berating from his boss. ‘Thank you, Hunter,’ Crystal said, curtly dismissing her young bodyguard, but when the door to the business chamber closed she turned to Lin and burst out laughing.

‘Oh, how could you?’ Lin asked, catching her breath. ‘Poor Hunter was mortified.’

‘So he should be,’ Crystal replied, wiping her tears. ‘The idiot well and truly got caught with his pants down, didn’t he?’ She laughed again, and rose from her chair. ‘In fact, he’s lucky to be alive, isn’t he? What do you think that means?’

‘It could mean the thief and his friends are very naive,’ Lin offered.

‘Or they’re very clever,’ Crystal suggested.

‘If it had been any of our better known enemies, Hunter would be dead,’ said Lin, a serious tone returning to her voice.

‘Exactly,’ Crystal agreed. ‘So now I’m curious. What game is this young man playing?’

‘Be careful. That might be his whole intention. Get you curious, then lead you into making a mistake.’

Crystal smiled at Lin, and said calmly, ‘I’ve thought of that—but I think I need to talk to this thief just the same.’

‘There’s nothing here, lad, for someone of your age without any experience.’ The baker turned his back and shut his door.

Chase scuffed the cobbles with his boot and spat. He ran his hands through his hair and looked along the street. He’d tried the tanner’s shop, the butcher’s, the jeweller’s. He’d tried every factory in the Foundry Quarter. He’d tried the tradesmen. As the plasterer told him, ‘If you’ve never worked before now, lad, what have you been doing?’

He lied at several places about his experience. ‘I was being taught how to build houses, but my father got suddenly ill.’

‘I’ve been a sickly lad all my life, but one of the doctors cured me and now I can work.’

‘I was in the army, but they kicked me out for not wanting to leave the city. I told them I was too scared to fight.’

‘I was apprenticed to a farrier, but the business went bad.’

‘And who was this farrier?’ a factory owner asked warily.

‘Oh, Mr Riverside,’ Chase replied. ‘You wouldn’t know him because he died. Last year.’

‘Convenient death,’ the owner noted, and told Chase there were no vacancies. The answer was always the same. He was seventeen years old, but he’d never worked an honest job since his father’s death when he was eight, and no one wanted a common thief on their books—no one except the soldiers and the prison guards.

He felt in his pocket for the remaining pennies and headed along the street for the tavern he passed earlier. At least a beer would taste good. Then he’d plan a job,
maybe a rich man’s house in the Northern Quarter, and get some money. It seemed he was destined to be a thief forever. It was his trade. He was good at it.
Bugger working, then
, he decided.

As he reached the door to the Iron Will tavern, he sensed a presence behind him, and turned. In the street, three paces away, was Mrs Merchant’s bodyguard, the same one who attacked Passion. He felt his adrenaline pump as he clenched his fists. ‘Mrs Merchant wants to speak with you,’ the strong, tall young man said.

Chase held his ground. ‘Why?’

Hunter sneered and said, ‘How the fuck would I know, mate? I just work for her. She said she wants me to bring you to her.’

‘What if I’m busy right now?’

Hunter glanced at the tavern door and back at Chase. ‘Yeah, mate, real busy. You coming?’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘I don’t care. Much as I’d like to say I’d make you, that’s not the deal. Suit yourself whether you come or not. I’ll just deliver the message.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Riddly Humbleback. What’s it to you, mate?’

Chase blanched at Hunter’s unresolved animosity. He obviously hadn’t forgiven his treatment in the Perfect Pleasures. His better judgement warned him to say no to the bodyguard’s invitation. ‘Tell Mrs Merchant if she wants to speak to me, she can come to the Perfect Pleasures tonight after the twentieth bell.’

‘Mrs Merchant doesn’t go near the Main Way,’ Hunter answered sharply.

‘Then she won’t be speaking with me, will she?’ Chase said. ‘Now, I’ve only got enough for one beer, so I can’t offer you one.’

Hunter gave a threatening glare that Chase couldn’t misinterpret. He noted that he would have to be very
careful not to end up in a small space alone with this enemy. After the Joker’s bodyguard stalked off along the street, heading north, Chase took a deep breath, felt for his coins, and entered the tavern.

‘Come on, Chase. I’ve got some free time. And it’d be nice to do it with someone for the fun of it, instead of work.’

Chase pushed Mouse’s probing hands away from his tunic. ‘Rose will get angry if you go giving away free rides when you’re meant to be working,’ he argued, laughing.

‘She won’t know,’ Mouse persisted. ‘Wahim won’t say anything. None of the girls will dob me in. Come on. Let’s have some real fun.’ She grabbed his hand, pressed it against her firm right breast and slid her free hand to his crotch. ‘See? The little man wants to play,’ she announced, laughing.

‘Leave the poor boy alone,’ Rose chided as she entered the red room. ‘Passion won’t be happy to learn what’s going on.’

Mouse released Chase and pouted as she said, ‘Passion thinks we’d be good together.’

‘Good for what?’ Rose quipped as she squeezed between Chase and Mouse on the settee. ‘Why are you here tonight?’ she asked.

‘Curiosity,’ Chase replied. ‘I was visited by Mrs Merchant’s thug—the one who came here,’ and he explained what had transpired that morning.

Rose’s smile deteriorated. ‘The Joker wouldn’t be seen dead in this district,’ she said. ‘In fact, if she was seen on the Main Way, chances are she’d end up dead. She’s made too many enemies around here.’

‘Bad drug deals?’

‘Worse. She gets rid of any competition the same way her husband used to. Some people take exception to that.’

‘What happened to her husband?’

‘Wound up dead. That’s what happened. No one could prove anything on anyone, but rumours have always been that a few of the local proprietors of the taverns and entertainment businesses arranged for Will Merchant to have a nasty accident. And, sadly, he did. She won’t be coming here, Chase. She’s not that stupid.’

‘Then I guess I have to accept her offer and visit her again.’

Rose took Chase’s hand and looked him in the eye. ‘My advice, Chase, is to leave this whole thing alone. It smells of trouble, big trouble. Anything to do with the Joker brings grief. Let it go.’

Passion emerged from the hallway, adjusting her thin chemise, and handed a small bag of coins to Wahim. She approached Chase and ruffled her brother’s hair affectionately. ‘I’m going to bathe,’ she announced. ‘Then I’m done for tonight. Nutmeg’s coming in.’ She sashayed through the door to the tub room.

‘Go home with your sister, get a good night’s sleep, and forget this whole thing about the Joker,’ Rose told him firmly. She turned to Mouse and said with a grin, ‘Come on, you little slut. You can help me wash some linen while we’re waiting.’

Mouse pulled a face behind Rose’s retreating back, before leaning across to kiss Chase’s cheek and touching his crotch playfully. ‘I’ll be here any time for you,’ she whispered, as she followed her colleague.

Chase grinned, but his attention was drawn to Wahim who was talking softly to a hooded stranger who’d suddenly appeared in the hallway entrance. Wahim looked at Chase, and pointed. Seeing the shock on the man’s face, Chase stood and asked, ‘What’s the matter?’

‘You have a visitor,’ Wahim replied hesitantly.

The stranger lowered her hood. Chase stared at the dark-haired woman who’d pretended to be a maid and said quietly, ‘Mrs Merchant?’

‘I’ve never been in a brothel,’ Crystal said, as she sat on the solitary stool in the cramped bedroom. Chase perched on the edge of the crumpled bed and studied the woman dressed in men’s clothes in the flickering candlelight. His intuitive guess that she’d pretended to be the maid at their first meeting was correct. She was attractive for an older woman. Her large eyes, high cheekbones and full lips made her look younger. Her black hair was tied tightly to her head to accommodate the hood she wore to hide her features, but he could tell that she wore her hair long normally. It suited her. ‘So your sister works here?’ Crystal asked, to break the hiatus.

‘Yes,’ Chase replied.

‘How old is she?’

‘Twenty-three.’

Crystal’s left eyebrow rose slightly. ‘When did she start?’

‘Why are you so interested in my sister?’ he asked defensively.

‘Polite conversation,’ she replied calmly.

‘You came to see me for a reason.’

Crystal smiled her business smile, and said, ‘In fact, you came to see me for a reason, and then you told Hunter that if I wanted to speak with you that I should meet you here. So here I am. To listen.’

‘You didn’t want to listen when I came to your house,’ he reminded her.

‘You could have been anybody,’ she said perfunctorily. ‘In my position I have to be very careful. I have a lot of enemies.’

‘Why do they call you the Joker?’

She smiled again. ‘It’s my business card.’

‘So why didn’t you believe me?’

She took a breath and met his accusing gaze. ‘You said you knew my grandfather, but I know for a fact that he’s been dead more than fifteen years.’

‘Who told you he was dead?’

‘My father,’ she explained. ‘He petitioned every month for Grandfather’s release, but just as it was going to be granted he was told Grandfather had died in prison.’

‘Did you see the body?’

‘No.’

‘Then how could you have been so sure?’

‘This is absurd,’ Crystal complained irritably. ‘Can you give me any proof that you knew my grandfather?’

‘His name was Sunlight. He was a Royal Seer, but because he knew of a plot by the younger Seers to help Prince Shadow seize power from his brothers, the Seers had him imprisoned. He spent two years in the Royal Gaol, until the authorities shifted him into the Bog Pit where he was supposed to die like everyone does. Only he didn’t die because he used his magical skills to maintain his health and he stayed out of trouble with the guards. He survived in there for fifteen years before I was put inside. He was blind and frail by then, and he was dying because some thug named Boss was deliberately starving him. He befriended me because I sneaked food to him. When I told him I was going to get out of the Bog Pit, either by escaping or when they took my arm, he told me his story and told me to see you. He told me about the opal kangaroo tooth you wear to ward off evil. He gave that to you before they took him away, but it’s really a key to a secret door in the tunnels under your house. And then Boss and those bastards beat him to death because he was old and sick.’ As he paused in his story, he saw her astonished
expression. ‘You know it’s true,’ he said quietly. ‘I couldn’t make that stuff up.’