Sourcethief (Book 3) (30 page)

Brannis took the handcart and pulled their
belongings down to
Poet's Hammer's
berth. Sailors met them there and
carried their belongings aboard without question. A few of the sailors were
from Mongrel Khesh: smaller, thinner, and darker-skinned than the rest, from
blood that had been mixed more times than anyone bothered to count. The Mongrel
Kheshi, those from the north of the empire, were the ones more often seen
outside its borders. The remainder of the crew was bigger, more muscular, and
fairer-skinned. The southern Kheshi kept more to themselves and took pride in
their purity of bloodlines. Like the sorcerers of Kadrin, pure blood paid
dividends in producing more extreme traits—in this case, size. The southerners also
seemed more inclined to forego precautions against the Acardian weather.

Captain Kaisson returned as Brannis and Soria were
settling in. Rakashi had come aboard as well along with a heavy pack filled
with his belongings, but he was not yet

officially a passenger. Brannis meant to remedy
that.

"Captain, thank you for all your help,"
Brannis greeted the man. "I understand our passage was already arranged
but I would like to add one more."

"The Takalishman? If he pays, he sails. Good
fighters always welcome. Make up mind fast though, we do not wait to seven
bells to leave or even five. We sail now. I can find my way across harbor even
with the half tide," Captain Kaisson said.

"We'll pay, just get us under sail. Actually, I
want to know how much Lord Harwick is paying you," Soria said. She took up
a position between Brannis and the captain. Acardians might expect a woman to
be subservient to her man but the Kheshi captain seemed nonplussed. "I
intend to buy you away from him."

Captain Kaisson laughed. "This trip makes me a
rich man. Twice I get a new price, better than the last. I picked the time to
be in Scar Harbor, yes?"

"Someone hired you before Lord Harwick?"
Brannis asked. He moved up to stand beside Soria. He was not quite prepared to
cede leadership to her entirely.

Kaisson nodded. "For a price I will even tell
you who. While at sea, you have no fear someone else will pay me more."

The captain had a disarming smile for such a large
man. He piloted them through the sand bars that guarded Scar Harbor at low
tide, and out into the open Katamic. No harbormaster had given them leave to
go, but there were no ships in port that seemed inclined to chase them. All the
while, sailors kept about the deck, sweeping it clear of snow as it fell from a
storm that could not tell it was still only autumn.

Safely out to sea, the crew began to settle into a
routine and one of the mates took over at the helm. As the passengers went to
see about their accommodations, Captain Kaisson pulled Brannis aside.

"Your girl, she is Acardia?" the captain
asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. Despite the cold, the man was sweating
and stank of ale. Only the copious fresh air kept the reek from being
unbearable in the close quarters.

"Yes, but Kheshi raised," Brannis
confirmed.

"Ah, I hear it in her voice. I hear too that
she is Tezuan. Is that true also?"

"Yes. I think your men saw some of her
handiwork. The ones who died with no great gash out of them and with their
heads attached, those were her doing," Brannis said.

"Good. We find pirates, I know I have three
more warriors on my ship," Kaisson said. The captain looked about with a
paranoid glance before leaning in closer and lowering his voice. "I have
one more question. I must know one way or two way: are you Acardians from
Kadrin or Azzat?"

Brannis tensed. If Jhorn Kaisson was twinborn, he
was likely Ghelkan. If he did not know whether Brannis and Soria were Kadrin or
Azzatian, he certainly had not been told their identities.
Same plan as with
Rashan ...

"Kadrin. Is that a problem?" Brannis
asked. He disliked his odds against the massive Kheshi in a wrestling match but
there were two companions he could fall back on in case of violence. There was
no upside to be had in lying and being thought Azzatian. Worse, it was
implausible that anyone would go to the trouble of starting a bidding war over
the fate of an Azzatian twinborn.

"You had the chance of lie, Kadrin. You did
not. I might have job for you one day. Maybe." Captain Kaisson shrugged.
"Knowing Kadrins might be good idea."

Eyes inside Ghelk? I could pay you a great deal if
there is a traitor behind that shaggy blond beard of yours, Captain.

* * * * * * *
*

A white stone monolith, blocky and little adorned,
was stationed at one side of the plaza. The only windows it had were high above
the ground and mere slits, too small for even a child to squeeze through. Most
of those who came and went by the wide stone stairs were well-dressed Takalish
natives bearing parcels. The lettering above the entrance was foreign, but it
did not take any knowledge of Takalish to puzzle out that it was a bank.

Tanner's emergence was enough to warrant a second
look from passersby. He was grubby and travel-stained, white-skinned, and
carrying himself with a swagger unbefitting a gentleman. Had he gone in armed
as was his habit, he would have caused more than a fair stir among the bank's
guards and likely would have landed himself in jail. He quickstepped down the
stairs to where Stalyart stood waiting with his gear.

"Have we delayed our task quite long enough?"
Stalyart asked as he handed Tanner his sword belt. "These moneylenders put
us half a day’s ride out of our way."

"Worth every minute," Tanner replied. He
buckled on his sword and felt all the safer for it. "Besides, I think
we're going to find that we're ahead of the game. I got the kid to tell me
where they were heading before your friend kidnapped us ... well me, I guess
the boy was going with him either way."

"A precaution. Captain Zayne wished to ensure
you held to your end of the bargain. He always holds to his," Stalyart
said. He handed Tanner his Errol-made pistol and the leather sash that held his
spare bullets.

"Don't mind me being skeptical of liars
vouching for one another. You pirates have reputations too, you know. He'd have
been better off taking the deal as I presented it to Kyrus. Give him the staff,
and I think he'd have a good chance of beating Rashan in a fight." Tanner
slung the sash crosswise over his shoulder and tucked the pistol into his
pants.

"Yes, perhaps. Then we would have Kyrus and the
Staff of Gehlen instead of a demon. Better. Still not good. I place my wager on
Jinzan Fehr because, should I bet against him, I lose either way,"
Stalyart reasoned. "As for you, I had not expected you were the type to
patronize banks. It seems a gamble in itself to one who flouts laws with such
abandon as you."

"Hey, keep that quiet," Tanner replied.
"It's not like we're the only ones around who can speak Acardian. As for
my gamble, banks provide a few services you can't get anywhere else. For instance,
I can leave them names of associates who can draw on my deposit, in case I die
with my money in their hands. Let's just say I don't have a real good feeling
about this whole venture."

Their horses were hitched at the far side of the
plaza. Once they had retrieved the animals, they departed the city, heading
west. It would be days still before they caught up with Jadon Zayne's path even
if the boy's guardians kept to it.

They rode together across the silent, icy landscape.
Stalyart broke the silence in mid-afternoon with a few quips about the locals
but Tanner answered with nothing but a sidelong glare. Tales of his adventures
at sea were interesting but Tanner managed to keep from showing interest.

"You ever live on a farm, Stalyart?"
Tanner asked in response to an unrelated query about card games.

"Interesting choice to break your silence with.
No, I grew up with boats and fishing. I had sea legs before I could walk on
land," Stalyart replied. He brought his horse to within an arm's reach of
Tanner's as the promise of engaging in conversation loomed.

"Well, neither have I, but I've met a lot of
farm folk in my time—army attracts them like crows. They taught me about the
animals they raise, how they have to avoid ... you know ..." Tanner
trailed off.

"Is this some jest about improprieties with the
animals?" Stalyart asked, clearly confused.

 Tanner snapped his head to face Stalyart directly.
"No, brine-brain. I'm trying to say I might need to kill you and I'm not
in the habit of killing friends. Keep that in mind if it ever comes down to a
choice of what happens to me in Veydrus. Maybe you get the chance to slip me
loose, maybe you hear about the order to kill me and do something about it. I
can see that you come out ahead here. I've got more coin than Zayne if that's
what you're after. Play it the other way, gambling man, and you'll lose."
Tanner unlimbered his sword in its sheath, but did not take it in hand. He gave
Stalyart one more look before returning his attention to the road. Stalyart took
heed and moved his horse out of sword's reach.

"Mr. Tanner, I do think you must have been
piecing those words together in your head for hours. Bravo! This is more like
what I expected from a nefarious coinblade when I agreed to accompany one. You
have me out of my element—now is the time to press an advantage. Of course, you
assume that I would not best you with swords or simply slit your throat in the
night. I am, after all, a pirate." Stalyart spread his arms wide at the
astonishing admission.

"I sleep lighter than you might think, and you
wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of my blade," Tanner replied.
"Maybe you're some slick-oiled blade with the dregs you sail with, but
you're just a sailor at heart. Pick a navy ship out there, there's as good a
chance as not they've got a man your equal with a saber. Me? In the whole
Kadrin Empire when they have a knight they need taught sword fighting, they
send him to me. I wouldn't be winded by the time you bled your last."

"I ... I am having difficulty with something. I
cannot tell if you are just acting the braggart for your own pride or if you
are trying to goad me to challenge you. I think I will take my time to think
for now," Stalyart said.

"When the time comes, pirate, just moo. So long
as your friends keep me locked up, I'm ready to butcher you."

With Tanner's threat casting a pall over the ride,
they managed to pass the hours in silence. They ate in the saddle without
slowing their pace. The only hint of a break in their standoff was when Tanner
turned them southwest at a crossroads. Stalyart had seemed ready to comment,
but a stern glare from Tanner forestalled him. As evening approached, they came
upon a tiny village—a dozen buildings clustered around a crossroads, with a
cobbled town square where the roads met.

"You knew this was here?" Stalyart
inquired. It was the first words either of them had spoken since Tanner's final
threat.

"Yeah. I know this part of Takalia a bit,"
Tanner said. He climbed from his horse and shook loose stiff muscles that
fought to continue forming the shape of a horse's back. There was a hitching
post in front of an inn, the largest structure in the village with no close
second. Tanner tied his mare to it and walked around to the side of the
building rather than approaching the entrance. Stalyart followed suit once his
own gelding had been hitched.

"What is this?" Stalyart asked. There was
a small area tucked between the inn and the dry goods store next door where
there was a square of flagstones laid out, perhaps four paces across. It met
with neither the road nor either building. At each corner, just off the edge of
the square, was an iron pot. Nearby on the wall of the inn, there was a rack of
wooden swords under a small awning. "A shrine of some kind?"

"There's a sword school nearby. It's not a
religion here like it is there, but it's not far off from the Safschan
teachings," Tanner explained. "Silver in each bowl and we could have
use of the wooden swords for a duel. The inn would keep half, the other half
goes to the school."

"You wish a sporting contest, then?"
Stalyart's voice brightened to its usual cheery hue.

"For a gold in each bowl, they'd let us duel
with steel," Tanner said. "If we both pay our own money, they'd let
us kill one another on those stones. Blameless. Legal. Even honorable."
Tanner walked over to the rack of wooden weapons.

"But you would have us contest with wooden
blades of course," Stalyart said. He walked up behind, but Tanner knew by
the sound that he did not come within a blade's reach were he to whirl and draw
his sword.

"I haven't held a wooden sword since I was ten,
and I'm not about to change that now. I don't teach that way, I don't fight
that way." Tanner dug a hand into his purse, coming out with two
100-darshi gold coins. He held them up as he turned to face Stalyart. A small
crowd was beginning to gather as word of two armed strangers near the dueling
square spread among the inn guests and the locals. "Friendly match with
bare steel? My blade only draws blood when I want it to." Tanner fanned
the two coins out between outstretched fingers, letting the pirate and the
crowd alike see his intent, all language gaps pushed to the side.