Savage (18 page)

Bazur felt a surge of emotions deep within his chest. It had been so long since anyone had cared if he lived or died, he’d forgotten what it felt like. “I should go; you need your sleep.”

“No.”

“No?” asked Bazur.

“You are not leaving me yet. I know you, Bazur. As soon as you feel anything, you turn and run. You don’t think I haven’t noticed this. I know it because I’m the same. But I’m not running from this. You are my partner and my protector, and I don’t want this to be a one-time deal. I don’t want you disappearing back to the badlands the minute you think the job is done.”

Bazur felt his chest pounding. The turmoil within him was intense. On one hand, he wanted Kyra. Wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything before, but he could not take being banished again. The orc part of him recoiled at his sudden cowardice, but this was a battle he could not win with his blade or fists. This was a battle between his heart and his mind. His heart yearned for someone of its own, yet in his mind he knew the pain of being rejected was too much to risk. Perhaps it was better to be alone forever and not feel that pain again.

“When the job is done, you won’t need a partner anymore. Your prince will be glad to see me gone, I’m sure.”

Kyra shook her head. “Actually, the prince was here earlier today. He is very pleased with our results so far. He likes having investigators with strong underworld ties. It gives him options outside of the royal guards. He’s already hinted he wants both of us to continue working for him after this case. He seems confident that we are going to solve the mystery. He’s more confident than I am actually.”

“The prince would be a fool to not want you around. You are the most beautiful and intelligent woman in all of Draisha. You should stay with the prince.”

“Is that a little jealousy I hear in your voice?” teased Kyra.

“Maybe.” It was hard to admit to himself he was jealous, even more so to admit it to her, but Bazur knew that when it came to Kyra his normal boundaries and feelings were all out of whack. “The most powerful man in all the kingdom has taken a personal interest in you. There is no room for men like me when a future king enters the equation.”

Kyra scoffed. “Oh please, I’m not one to get wet knickers at the thought of a throne. Prince Valentine is a good man, and an attractive one who knows how to be charming. However, he isn’t my man, nor could he ever be. He has no understanding of the type of person I am. I will gladly keep working for the prince. It is a good job. In fact, besides the minor fact it’s the most dangerous job I’ve ever done, it is the most interesting. I like the challenge, but I don’t know if I can do it without you.”

It was good to know that Kyra wasn’t interested in the prince. For his own selfish reasons, Bazur hated the idea of her falling for the prince. But the way Kyra explained it made sense. The prince was from a different world from them. That Kyra didn’t want to be part of that world was a relief. But knowing that she wasn’t interested in Prince Valentine didn’t help his own dilemma. It was obvious that Kyra wanted him to stay her partner and possibly more, but the longer he stayed around the spirited little vixen, the deeper he fell. Could he stay in Draisha? Would he dare risk completely falling in love with her, when he didn’t know how she felt about him? “I will consider staying in Draisha as your partner. But for now we have to concentrate on General Vargas. Making plans for the future is pointless as long as he is alive.”

“Fair enough. We can discuss our future later. Let’s talk about Vargas then. What did you discover today besides how to get more injuries?”

“As far as I can tell, if someone wanted to hire a man like Vargas, they would speak to one of three men: Hoggard, Grundal, and Black. I spoke to all three today. Only Black claims to have had any contact with Vargas, and he says that he hasn’t hired the man in years, too bloody.”

“That is a reasonable list. There are a few other names that could be argued but those are the same names I came up with. Do you believe them?”

Did he believe them? Bazur had a naturally high level of distrust, so he never fully believed anyone. “They all told the truth, or at least partial truths. Of the three, I suspect Black of being the least honest when it came to the question of Vargas.”

“Really? He was the only one that admitted having dealings with the man.”

“Yes, but he made sure to suggest that his dealings were all old. I don’t trust that his idea of what old entails is the same as ours. For now, I’m focusing my efforts on the villages to the south. I’m told that mercenaries who might not have allegiances with the royal family are much easier to find there.”

“Good thinking. I would start with Southend. Now about those new wounds?”

“After I visited the Black Widow, I was attacked by a lone assassin. Luckily, he made the mistake of not accounting for the sun. If it weren’t for that, I might not be here. It seems that we have General Vargas’s attention now, and he intends for us to join the previous investigators in permanently ending our investigation.”

“And by permanently ending our investigation you mean we are both dead.”

“Precisely,” said Bazur. “But you should be fine here. Don’t go anywhere or do anything foolish. I can’t be worried about you and investigate the general.”

“You just make sure you stay alive. Besides, I am here for my brains. I don’t have to go anywhere. I just have to rattle things around long enough to figure this mess out. There is a common thread that will lead us to who is behind the attacks. I am sure of it.”

If anyone could figure it out without leaving her bed, it was Kyra. The reason she was so good at forgery was her perfect recall. Once she saw something, she remembered it precisely. After reading all of the prince’s notes and business ledgers she had a ton of information available, but mentally sifting through it and making sense of it was something Bazur couldn’t imagine trying to do. He would leave that to Kyra. Going to Southend and bashing heads until he got a name was much simpler. “Okay. You figure that out and I’ll deal with Vargas. You should interview the prince again. The prince knows whoever is behind the attacks.”

“You sure about that?” asked Kyra.

“I’d bet a hundred coppers on it. The attacks have all been designed to weaken the prince. To kill off and terrorize his supporters until he is alone. They are doing this now because his father is almost dead. Once King Astor dies, the prince becomes ruler and he’ll implement more reforms. Reforms that will hurt the rich of Draisha. Whoever is behind the attacks either wants the prince so weakened and terrified that he changes his mind, or they intend to kill him after his father dies. Either way, the end result is the reforms die. Greed is a great motivator.”

Kyra smacked her head. “Why didn’t I think of that earlier. I’m such a doe head.”

“Think of what?”

“Death. I’ve been asking Prince Valentine all the wrong questions. I need to rethink everything…”

Bazur could see that something he’d said had clicked in her brain and she was furiously grinding away at this new angle. Having watched her thinking before, he knew she could say nothing for hours as she mentally compared facts. “I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t forget to interview Prince Valentine.”

“Goodnight, my dear. I’ll expect you tomorrow,” said Kyra before she zoned back on her newest train of thought.

Goodnight my dear,
thought Bazur. What had she meant by that? Bazur walked slowly back from the palace towards the Yawning Bear Inn. The city was different in the evening compared to the day. During the day the streets were alive with swarms of people. It had its own sound, its own smell, its own feel. Nighttime changed Draisha. The majority of the people were off the streets, only a few wandering souls like himself making their way down the wide cobblestone boulevards. The musky, sweaty smell of heat was replaced with a fresh evening breeze that hinted of pine and the forests to the west. Something about the feel of the night in Draisha comforted Bazur. It reminded him of his home in the badlands. Solitude. He would never truly be alone like he was back in his cave, but here walking the street at night he felt alone, like he wasn’t being crowded for space, rushed to move and think. It was a pleasant feeling to look up at the night’s sky and see the familiar stars, the dark cover of night.

The idea of staying in Draisha was a seed planted in his mind. It wouldn’t be so bad, not if he could spend his evenings walking the streets enjoying the solitude of the night. The main allure to the idea was Kyra, which was a double edged sword as he hadn’t yet decided if he should be pursuing a relationship with her or staying as far away from her as possible. Yet, when he removed her from the equation, he still found the idea had appeal. The position of royal investigator was intriguing. He didn’t have Kyra’s brain for puzzles and mysteries, but he was enjoying his own role and finding it challenging. He’d assumed when she first approached him about the idea, he’d just be her muscle and protection, a glorified bodyguard. Yet, Kyra treated him as an equal, as did her associates. And his role in the partnership seemed undefined. He’d led the way during the time in the badlands, and now she was trusting him to track down Vargas. His role as royal investigator was ever evolving and changing, but he certainly wasn’t just hired muscle. And yet, he was still able to get his hands dirty as needed. Perhaps he should consider it. These last few weeks had been the most interesting he’d had in a long time. Kyra and Draisha itself pushed him beyond his comfort zones, but there was a degree of satisfaction that came with meeting the challenge. Did he even want to go back to his old ways? Perhaps Draisha was like kemper fish, a tasty dish when taken in small amounts but one that would kill you if you had too much.

“Good evening, Bazur. How is the new bed treating you? I hope it is too your satisfaction.”

Bazur had been so deep into his thoughts about possibly staying in Draisha that he had hardly noticed he was already back to the inn. The innkeeper, his name Bazur couldn’t place at that moment, was waiting to hear his response. “It’s rather comfortable, and sturdy. I cannot remember having a bed as well built.” The statement was true. He’d only ever had one bed growing up, and in his cave, the bed consisted of the ground and furs, no building required. But the innkeeper obviously took pride in having the bed built, so no point bringing up the fact he wasn’t well versed in the quality of different beds. To be fair, it certainly was the best bed he’d ever slept in at an inn. Most were flimsy and not designed for one of his size.

“Excellent, excellent. Ms. Kyra is one of my best customers and any friend of hers is a friend of ours.” The innkeeper paused for a moment, like he was debating saying something else. “I have to say, when I first heard you would be staying here… well, I was terrified. I have a cousin in Pera and every time he visits, he tells me stories of the legendary badlands savage who destroys bars, beats up all customers, and eats virgins for breakfast. I feared you’d destroy my establishment, but you’ve been nothing but a gentleman. I’m starting to think my cousin made up those stories.”

Bazur smiled. “Your cousin might’ve embellished a detail or two, but I do have a history in Pera that involves more than a few barroom fights. I can’t say the eating virgins for breakfast is something that happened. Well, at least not often.” Bazur gave the innkeeper a wink. “As you said, Kyra is one of your best customers and my friend. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her accommodations. There will be no barroom brawls here, at least none started by me. I like the Yawning Bear, and there is a possibility that my stay in Draisha is going to be extended. I would think that if that were to happen, I’d stay here. The bed is excellent, and the food is decent. I question the cook’s choices of spices at times, but that is of small consequence.”

“Actually, I do a majority of the cooking around here, but I don’t take offense to that comment about my spices. As a young lad I had a perverse obsession with spicy food, hotter the better. Damned if I didn’t destroy my taste. I can hardly tell the difference between spices any more. If I don’t keep things in the right order, all chaos breaks out. I deliberately under spice things these days as to not destroy meals, something I’ve done in the past. Any time you’d like to join me in the kitchen, I would gladly accept having a taste tester around. But if you do decide to stay in Draisha longer, you will need a bigger room. One with a view. I have just the room. Say the word, and I’ll have your bed moved into it. Also, it has the benefit of being by the back staircase. You could come and go without having to walk through entire Inn.”

The friendly innkeeper’s name popped into Bazur’s mind. “I’ll keep that in mind, Abal. I will come visit you in the kitchen tomorrow morning and discuss spices and bigger rooms.”

“What do you want for breakfast? I am going to bake tonight.”

“That pumpkin pan bread was good. This time add a pinch more of salt and cinnamon. You could add just a touch of ground borga leaf if you have it.”

“Pumpkin pan bread and a half dozen eggs. See you in the morning.”

Bazur left Abal and headed to his room. He added the friendly innkeeper to the positive column of his mental checklist comparing the pros and cons of staying in Draisha. Kyra may have planted the seed, but the friendly Abal had just added water to the mix.

“HOW is my favorite patient doing?” asked Marcus.

“Favorite patient? Only patient from what I can see,” replied Kyra.

“Only royal family members and special guests use the royal infirmary. I also oversee the city infirmary, but there are several healers who do the day-to-day tasks.”

“I am lucky then,” said Kyra.

“No, I would say that it is a perk of the position. Royal investigator is a dangerous business, access to the royal infirmary is logical. You shouldn’t consider yourself lucky. That underrates the skillset you possess. You wouldn’t be in the position if you were without unique talents. Is it true you have near perfect recall?”

“I don’t know if it is perfect recall, but if I’ve seen something, I can remember it forever. Sometimes the details get lost, but once I remember they are there, I can see them,” said Kyra.

“Fascinating. I’ve read about such things. Very rare occurrence, and not one based in magic.” Marcus paused for a moment. “The studies I’ve read, the healers only learned of these individuals because they went mad. It was like they had an overload of information. Their brains could store more than they could handle. As if the brain was a glass of water. Normally, when you overfill a glass, an amount of water will spill out, but with these people, the water would keep piling up until the glass shattered. Do you understand my poor analogy?”

“Yes. I don’t know how others do it, but I have to organize myself. Put memories into big piles that go together. Otherwise things are always popping up. It is something I’ve learned to control.”

“How do you control it?” asked Marcus.

I meditate a lot, and in emergencies, I have a secret weapon.”

“A secret weapon, you must share.”

“I drink. A lot,” said Kyra.

“Yes, I suppose that could work,” said Marcus. “Now, how is your body feeling?” He gently pushed and prodded around her knee as he spoke.

“It feels good. Really good actually. Your salves must have done the trick.”

“Skin heals faster than bones, especially when the salve is applied to the skin. Your leg will look fine far sooner than the leg will be healed. At the present rate, I would say that you could be out of here in week or two.”

“A week or two? Can’t it be any sooner? I feel like I could walk on it right now.”

“Would you rather have a fully functional leg or live the rest of your life with a limp?” asked Marcus.

“Damn it. I suppose a week won’t hurt.”

“Trust me child, you don’t want to push it too hard. The alternative is we splint your leg up and you hobble around for months and possibly regain full function. A week here getting daily treatment is your best option by far.”

“Okay, okay. Message received.” As much as Kyra wanted to leave, there was really no point rushing it. Here she had everything she needed. A bed, food, water, security, and most importantly, access to the prince. With his help, she would solve the mystery soon.

“Good. Now, do you want some more herbs to reduce the pain and help you sleep?”

“Perhaps at night, but I need my wits about me during the day. I do have a request though,” said Kyra.

“What is that?” asked Marcus.

“I need parchment, a quill, and ink.”

“We have plenty available. I’ll have them brought to you right away.”

“Thank you. Oh, and Marcus, I’m going to need lots of parchment. At least a dozen sheets to start.”

“Is there anything else I can get you? I know that Prince Valentine wants me to assist you in any way necessary.”

“Now that you mention it, there is one more thing…”

…

Kyra was writing on her sixteenth piece of parchment when Prince Valentine walked into her infirmary room.

“Hello, Kyra, it looks like you’ve been busy. Sorry I took so long to get here today. Had a small crop crisis to deal with and then a formal dinner with the Ambassador from Bluvia.”

“Your Highness, good to see you. It is no problem that it took you so long. I needed some time to collect data and get things sorted in my mind. Now that you are here, we can really get something accomplished.” Kyra had been busy all morning and afternoon creating lists and sorting through others. She’d had Marcus send royal guards to all the shipping companies in Draisha formally requesting their manifests for the last year. She then went through all the records, comparing the companies’ normal shipments to those since the attacks started. She also made separate lists of all of the king’s associates and every wealthy member of Draisha’s elite. “Your Highness, I need you to look at this list. I want you to rank them in order from most wealthy to least, as to the best of your knowledge.” Kyra handed him the list and the quill.

“Sure, but what good will this do?” asked Prince Valentine.

“Humor me, it will become more obvious when we are done.” Kyra had a theory, but she needed a few more details before she dared to explain it.

Prince Valentine handed her back the list after having marked a number beside each name. Kyra didn’t look at it, she simply put it aside for now and gave the prince a new blank piece of parchment.

“Now, this next list you have to make. Name all the royal family members who could possibly make a claim on the throne if both you and your father were dead.”

“Do you want them in order of rightful succession?” asked the prince.

“Yes, and make sure to add all the names, even if their claim would be questionable at best.”

Patiently, Kyra waited while the prince scribbled down the list. When he was done she handed him another list. “I just need you to check this list, make sure I didn’t make any mistakes.” The list was of everyone that had suffered from attacks by General Vargas, from the murdered down to those whose property was stolen or vandalized. It also included all of his supporters who’d not yet been attacked.

“The list looks good. Except you have Owen Pickett a little too low. He was attacked but only suffered a small wound, and he lost a major caravan shipment traveling across the desert.”

“Right, my mistake.” Kyra took the list from the prince and put all of the lists if front of him. Now let’s see if we can narrow down our list. Circle the top five names from each list and see whose name shows up the most.”

“There are only two. Elise Vanderhoff and Owen Pickett. But Elise was killed and Owen barely survived. This list doesn’t help us,” said the prince in frustration.

“Here, take a look at this,” said Kyra as she handed Prince Valentine a stack of papers. “Start with the top sheet. I’d read it carefully.”

“This can’t be right. These numbers don’t match up with the tax records. I went over them myself a dozen times if not more trying to figure this mess out. Where did you get these numbers?”

“Those are the shipping companies’ manifests for the last year. I wanted to see if there were any large abnormalities in any of the companies’ shipments that would be explained by the attacks, and I wanted to see who lied on their taxes.”

“Did any of them lie?”

“Actually, almost all of them did, but not enough to quibble about. Except for one.”

The prince looked down at the manifests. “Yes, I can see myself that the size of these shipments, and the timing of them, is very suspect. Someone made a small fortune knowing which caravans would be hit.”

“That same someone who claimed substantial losses.”

“It doesn’t prove anything,” said the prince, but his protest was halfhearted at best.

“Here, let’s look at the big picture. Someone in Draisha hired General Vargas and has been carrying out an expensive campaign against you and all your associates. Now General Vargas isn’t your average run of the mill mercenary. He has a name and a track record. He is expensive. As is hiring groups of a dozen or more mercenaries at a time. So whoever is behind the attacks has enough money to afford such things and can do it in a way no one would even notice. So the odds are very good that the person we are looking for is on that list of wealthy citizens of Draisha, correct?”

“Yes, that makes sense. But that still leaves a long list,” argued the prince.

“Now exclude all the people who don’t have a shot at the throne if you die.”

“The list gets very small,” said the prince with a sigh.

“It is a list of one, Your Highness. And it is not only a matter of being able to gain the throne. I made a list of all the wealthy people who would lose money if you were able to implement all your reforms. His name is at the top of that list as well. There is only one man with enough money to finance this terror campaign and no one has more reasons to do so than him. And I checked with Marcus. His ‘wound’ from his would-be assassination attempt was a thin cut on his arm. Every other target was hit with precision and deadly accuracy, except one. That man escaped with a minor injury. That man also lied to you about the shipments he’s been making, and has been profiting from your associates’ misfortunes. His shipments have been abnormal in comparison to his previous months, but they all were to places that were facing shortages because of the attacks.”

“Owen Pickett,” said the prince.

“Lord Owen Pickett. He has the means, the motive, and he has been lying this whole time. His attack was a subterfuge to throw people off his trail.”

Prince Valentine tapped the bed with his fist. “This is somewhat flimsy. I can’t accuse the man publicly, but I believe you. What do we do now?”

“I have an idea, but it depends how civil you want to be towards your cousin.”

“The man has paid for a terror campaign against my associates, murdered friends of mine, and has plans for my throne. I have no civility for that man. What have you in mind?”

“When Bazur is done dealing with General Vargas, he pays dear cousin Owen a visit. He gently persuades Owen to tell the truth.”

“I get the feeling I don’t want to know what gentle persuasion looks like,” said the prince.

“I suspect it is not pretty. After all, he is, as you say, a savage, and if it is true, that means Owen Pickett is responsible for trying to kill me, something Bazur will not take lightly.” It comforting to know that Bazur would protect her against any man, no matter how rich or powerful.

“Have I ever told you that you are a dangerous woman? Make it happen. I will expect a full report when this is over. This was impressive work you did, Kyra. What made you decide to check the shipping manifests?”

“It was something Bazur said. “Greed is a great motivator.” I decided that if it was me planning all these attacks, I would make sure that I profited from them.  The caravans were by far the biggest sources of income lost and your tax records indicated that. But what if someone was lying about the caravans and how much they lost. So I checked the shipping manifests. After that it was a matter of connecting the facts and ruling out other possibilities. If it weren’t for the fact that she is dead, I would’ve had a hard time ruling Lady Vanderhoff out. But the manifests were what did it.”

The prince scowled. “Greedy bastard couldn’t suffer like the rest. I wish I could kill him myself.”

“I think he’ll suffer more this way,” said Kyra.

“True.” The prince broke out laughing. “That poor bastard. He doesn’t know what is coming for him. He’s been a chicken shit since he was a little boy. Acts tough and rough, but I’ve seen him in battle. He is a coward at heart. He’ll think that telling the truth about hiring Vargas will gain him mercy. He’ll be so focused on the crown and the money, it won’t even register that he’s admitting to having paid Vargas to try kill you.”

It surprised Kyra to hear the prince laughing. The death of Owen Pickett was no laughing matter. Kyra didn’t take lightly the offer to have Bazur interrogate the man. But the prince had been under a significant amount of pressure the last few months because of his cousin’s evil plots. Perhaps his laughter was only a result of that pressure?

“Kyra, I can’t thank you enough. Knowing that this ordeal is coming to an end is a relief beyond imagination. I will leave you now, but I will be back to discuss what it is going to take to keep both you and Bazur working for me. There must be something I can do to facilitate that outcome. In the meantime, I am going to bed. I think I might be able to sleep the night through for the first time in months.” The prince took Kyra’s hand and kissed it. “I am in your debt.”

As the prince walked away, Kyra cleared her bed of all the parchment. She too needed some sleep. While the magic salves Marcus had given her might be healing her wounds faster, they weren’t doing anything to counter the lingering effects of his pain dulling herbs. They seemed to exhaust her. The only thing that kept her going all day was the desire to finish her investigation. All night she’d dreamed about Bazur’s comments about greed and in the morning she knew what to do. Now that the mystery was solved, all she wanted to do was sleep. Kyra lied down, shutting her eyes but sleep didn’t come. If anything, she was now overtired and her body was confused. “Damn it,” she swore.

“Everything alright?” asked Marcus as he popped his head in her room.

“I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep.”

Marcus nodded and disappeared again. Moments later, he returned with a jug and two glasses. “It is perfectly normal given the circumstances to have sleep issues. Your body needs rest, but you pushed your mind hard today. The two are now in conflict. I spoke to Prince Valentine. He seemed more relaxed than I’ve seen him in months. You’ve had a breakthrough on your investigation?” said Marcus as he poured two glasses full.