The Eyes of a Doll (The World of Shijuren Book 2) (25 page)

“Good idea.”

I strode over.

“How did you know I would be at the amphitheater?”

He looked up blankly.

“Wha… What?”

“How did you know I would be at the amphitheater?”

“Uh… I dunno. Dragan just said be there at the solstice play.” His eyes widened in terror as Radovan strolled over and loomed. “Really! I don’t know! Oh, please…” He started weeping and choking in his panic.

Radovan shrugged and led me away. “He doesn’t know.”

“No, but I’d sure like to know how someone found me.”

He nodded. “We’ll think on that, we will.”

At that moment, we heard a wagon clatter up to the house in haste. Radovan and I turned and looked out the door. He had his cudgel raised, and I had plucked the knife out of my boot as I turned. After a moment, though, he touched my arm.

“Gibroz’s men.”

“So were the others,” I hissed.

He grinned. “These are the right ones... I think.”

A group of men and women hustled into the house, led by a harried-looking man with blood on his tunic. He nodded at us and rattled off commands. Quicker than I could have imagined, they carted off the bodies and cleaned the house. I retrieved Jovanka’s dagger from the chest of the one I had killed before they disposed of him.

Radovan chuckled as he saw me cleaning it.

“Jovanka let you play with her toys.”

“I think she took pity on me, what with me only having my little boot dagger, aside from the spatha and the spear.”

“She doesn’t feel right without at least three or four hidden somewhere in there.” He sighed lustily.

“That must have been an interesting courtship.”

“You’ve no idea, but she liked me enough to make sure not to take any fingers, toes, or other parts.”

I laughed and he looked around. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be needed here much longer.”

The bodies were gone. The sobbing man was now weeping in the back of the wagon with his dead companions. The blood had been mopped up. The door had been mostly restored, but now with an extra bar of heavy wood ready to bolster it after we had left.

A number of the men and women were clearly making preparations to stay the night by rolling out pallets and bedding. I heard the wagon roll off down the street.

I’ll check with Gabrijela, and then we’ll head back.”

He nodded. Gabrijela was where I’d left her, dozing lightly. She heard me walk up and reached out to me. I took her hand.

“Gibroz sent people. The house is cleaned. You’ve got a much larger guard here now.”

“I’ll be safe here, then.”

“Will you be alright in the morning?”

“From the magic?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“A night’s sleep is all I need.”

“Good.”

“No need to change the plan, then?”

“No, Edward, not at all.”

“Then I shall see you at midday. We’ll find Ognyan then.”

“Yes.”

She squeezed my hand and smiled up at me. “Have a good night, Sevener.”

“You too.”

Radovan and I left, and Radovan took immediate precautions to prevent someone from following us. He led me through back streets, stopped and waited around corners, and intentionally backtracked throughout our way journey.

“No one trailed us,” he said with satisfaction. “Now let’s go in quietly so as not to die by waking Jovanka.” With a grin he opened the door, and I was prepared to head directly to bed. Radovan forestalled me, looking at the cut on my hand. It had mostly stopped bleeding, so he washed it, put some herbal powder on it, and bandaged it. He then rummaged in the kitchen for two zelniks.

We ate in silence and then went to bed.

The sun had a battle on her hands as summer began. Clouds had rolled in overnight and provided both the occasional smattering of rain and welcome respite from the sun’s normal merciless legions.

I stood at a corner on the Trade Road, idly looking at the wares in the line of kiosks. The overall display was bewildering. Icons, jewelry, clothing, knives, and so much else, all clearly of cheap manufacture, all loudly haggled over by hard-bitten men and women who were only slightly less criminal than the ubiquitous pickpockets.

I was somewhat gratified to see that many native Achridans were also enjoying the slightly cooler weather. I idly scratched my beard and wondered where Radovan was. I knew he was close, for he had told me he would be as we left his house. Somehow, the large man had a way of staying unseen.

Knowing he was there comforted me after last night.

I felt Gabrijela’s arrival before I saw her.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Edward.”

She had the small satchel with the cotton samples over her shoulder. She handed it to me.

“To the Plucked Owl?” I asked.

She nodded as I put the bag across my shoulder. “Where is it?”

“Ylli said it was in the Periferiea.”

“That makes sense. Many people involved in trade live there. Some of the poorer factors and merchants, some sailors, caravaners, that sort of thing.”

We started strolling north on the Trade Road with her arm in mine.

“This way people will think we are lovers.”

I certainly did not mind, but… “Won’t walking hand in hand ruin our image as factor and assistant?”

She laughed. “We would not be the first pair of such to sleep together.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m mostly recovered. It’s very difficult to force someone to completely switch their emotions.”

“Could you sense anything about how they found us? I’m still wondering about that.”

“Ermajea doesn’t work that way. I can tell what people feel, not what they’re thinking. Of course, sometimes what a person feels is so strong I know exactly what they’re thinking. But that’s fairly rare.”

“I guessed that, but I was hoping. It just bothers me how quickly someone figured out I was back in Achrida.”

“That is worrisome.”

Our conversation had taken us through the Heartsquare. Soon, she pointed at a road that led towards the lake.

“That street forms to the south boundary of the Periferiea.”

We turned up that street. The Plucked Owl turned out to be on the lake side of the Periferiea, tucked in under a small ridge that thrust out towards the lake. Oddly, at least to me, it had no stables attached, though we passed two different stables near the tavern as we walked up to it.

As our eyes adjusted to the gloom we found ourselves in a low-ceilinged tiny taproom with only three others lounging around. Five or six passages led out of the taproom. I realized most of those passages led not to overnight rooms or to kitchens, but to smaller communal areas. These tiny taprooms were strung along the front of the building, each only large enough for a small table and four chairs. The owner had divided the Plucked Owl into separate places where people could transact business with some semblance of privacy.

Gabrijela and I looked at each other.

“What do we do now?” I whispered.

She whispered back. “Ask for Ognyan. Say your sponsors talked to Ylli, who suggested meeting him.”

“Really?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

I shook my head with a rueful smile and walked up to the bar.

The woman behind it sat casually on a tall, long chest that ran along the back wall. She was lush and sexual, not in the manner of a prostitute, but rather in the manner of a woman who simply enjoyed her body. Her black hair had been haphazardly pulled back and she wore the common long tunic with sandals. Bright dark eyes that had seen, and enjoyed, a great deal of Shijuren proudly stared at us.

“May I help you, stranger?”

“Yes, wine for both of us.”

“Wine? What kind of wine?”

I laughed at her acerbic tone.

“Sorry, I’ve been spending too much time in places where wine implied not a choice, but a vinegary substance with harsh flavor and harsher hangovers.”

She laughed back.

“Well, we’re not a place any zupan or great official would frequent, but we can do better than that.”

“Something light for the afternoon?”

“I have just the thing.”

She jumped off of the chest, pulled out two ceramic cups that had been freshly cleaned, and turned to kneel before the chest. She rummaged in it for a moment before pulling out a small amphora. With the ease of long practice, she filled the two cups with nary a drop spilt.

“A silver dinar for the pair.”

I placed two on the bar.

“I’m also looking for a man named Ognyan. I was given his name as a potential contact in Achrida.”

She swept the dinars into her hand.

“Ognyan’s up that way, I’ll show you where.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, stranger.”

She led us up a hallway to one of the small rooms. “Ognyan, you have new visitors.”

A tall, lanky man with close-cropped gray hair and a sharp nose quickly finished a bite of his lunch and gathered together the collection of parchments on the small table before him. He got up with a look toward us that combined the welcoming guise of a kiosk hawker and the sharp crenellations of mental defenses worthy of the Great City.

“Thank you, dear.”

As the bartender had let us pass, she had stepped to a point where one of the daggers I believed she had handy could have been used on either Gabrijela or me. I also noted how smoothly she made sure Ognyan needed no help before leaving. No wonder this bar attracted merchants and factors.

He allowed us to settle into seats opposite him, sipping his own wine.

“How may I help you?”

His oddly precise diction occasionally hinted at his Lezhan origins. His delicate and controlled manner reminded me of Sanjin, the butler of the Gropas.

Before I could respond, he rephrased his question. “Perhaps I should say, how may I help Gibroz?”

With raised eyebrows I responded, “Why do you think we are working for Gibroz?”

He looked at me silently for a moment. “Please do not take me for a fool. You come here with Gabrijela, Gibroz’s most trusted advisor and a wizard to boot, and you attempt to dissemble?”

Gabrijela looked shocked.

“Few people know me or my face.”

“In my life, knowledge might mean survival.”

She stared at him. “Few people also can control their emotions as you can.”

“I lead an interesting life.”

“Yes.” He looked back at me. “And who are you?”

Clearly there was no reason to continue with the pretense we had planned.

“I am, as you surmised, working for Gibroz.”

“Alongside Gabrijela.”

I nodded.

“So what you are doing for Gibroz must be important.”

“Yes.”

“It must involve a great deal of money.”

“I don’t know the amounts. I do know both Gibroz and Ylli take the amount seriously.”

He leaned back. “Both Gibroz and Ylli? I suspect you lead an interesting life, as well.”

“More than I wish.”

“Perhaps we can arrange a transaction.”

“Yes? What do we have to offer each other?”

“Information.”

“What do I know that you want to know?”

“I want to know why you’re here talking to me. I have suspicions, but I need to confirm them.”

Before I could answer, an old woman knocked at the entrance. Ognyan waved her in. The extensive food stains on her clothes suggested her profession. She bowed so deeply to us that her charm of a six-legged, horned goat-like creature escaped her tunic. She stuffed it back in place before taking Ognyan’s lunch dishes from his desk and leaving quietly.

I was grateful for her interruption, as it gave me time to think before responding to Ognyan’s question. I had no doubt that he wanted answers to his questions. From his perspective, this might be his one warning of a terrible, swift storm. I, on the other hand, needed not only answers but also security.

“In return, I need two things. I need my questions answered and the fact that I’m asking these questions to remain private between us.”

“I’m not sure that’s fair value.”

“It might not be, at least normally. Given what I know about you, however, I believe my information will be sufficiently worthy.”

“What you know about me?’”

I nodded.

He thought for a long moment about what I could know of him and finally responded with but one word: “Fascinating.”

We looked at Gabrijela.

“Fascinating?” I asked.

“Yes. He is clearly worried about what you know, yet I can only see hints of it from his emotions. I’m not feeling anything blocking me, only that he is amazingly controlled.”

Ognyan smiled.

“Thank you, gospardarica.”

“Do we have a deal, Ognyan?”

“We do, gospadar.”

I took a deep breath. “Excellent. I am here because someone is messing with both Ylli and Gibroz. Currently, Gibroz does not believe he is getting all of the money Ylli owes him for trading across the Kopayalitsa. Ylli believes he is paying the correct amount. I have been asked to find who is lying, because someone must be.”

“Ah.”

“You are a logical place to start, so I am here. I had intended to approach the question obliquely, but your recognition of Gabrijela prevented that. However, since you know her, you know I’m not lying when I say I’m working for him. I also have this token of Ylli’s to convince you I’m speaking for him, too.”

He nodded in recognition of the token. Then he leaned back with a small smile aimed at Gabrijela. “I suspect you might have seen hints of my emotions as I was speaking.”

She nodded and he glanced back at me.

“You were right. Your information is sufficiently worthy. Gospardarica, I want to ensure there is no confusion or doubt about what I am about to say, so…”

He consciously released his will. Gabrijela’s eyes opened wide.

“Oh… Ah… So that’s how…” She caught herself mumbling and turned to me. “Ask your questions.”

“Are you still passing money from Ylli to Gibroz?”

He nodded.

“Are you passing the full amounts?”

“Am I cheating either Ylli or Gibroz, you mean?”

I nodded.

“No, I am not,” he said emphatically, looking directly at Gabrijela. “I am passing the amounts that I am instructed to deliver to the people I am supposed to. I have not, nor will I ever, steal from my client.”

“If he’s lying, there’s no hint I can see from his emotions,” confirmed Gabrijela.

“Are you involved in assembling the money for Ylli? Or in figuring out what Ylli owes Gibroz?”

He shook his head.

“No, I receive an amount of cash from each of Ylli’s caravan masters. I record that amount in a ledger that I give to Ylli periodically so he can double-check the amounts.”

“What if Ylli’s caravan masters lie to you about the amount and tell Ylli or Gibroz something different than your records show?”

“I assume Ylli tracks that. If there’s a discrepancy, I assume he communicates that with Gibroz directly. He does not tell me. I will say that even were I not an honest businessman, I would not wish to cross Ylli. He has killed two factors before me that I know of for cheating him, my predecessor here in Achrida and one in Basilopolis.”

“Then what?”

“I take that money and give it to one of three people who work for Gibroz. And sometimes one other person.”

“Who are they?”

He drummed his fingers on the table briefly and sighed. “For Gibroz, I usually give the money to Isidora. Sometimes she is too busy, so I have to deal with Sava. Rarely, Markov wants me to give him the money directly.”

“Isidora?”

Gabrijela touched my arm and smiled.

“You know her?”

She nodded.

“How about Sava?”

She looked at Ognyan. “The cooper?”

He nodded. “Yes, I have to deal with him often enough for legal reasons anyway.”

“Who is the one other?”

Ognyan sighed. “Now I have to request privacy.”

“I won’t tell anyone other than Gibroz, and if needed, Ylli.”

“Acceptable. I assume Gibroz already knows and I am Ylli’s factor, so I always tell him what I know. I sometimes am directed to give cash to Jeremena.”