The Patrimony (19 page)

The moment captor and captive entered the master’s suite, Pehtros grabbed Koominon and jerked him into the smaller room, slamming the door behind. When he had shoved the priest-cook to a seat on the mussed, blood-smeared bed, he but furious whisper. “Now, father, will you speak the truth or two, that these may know it’s safe to talk.”

With a small smile, the tall, heavily muscled, black-haired man’s thick fingers sketched certain signs in the air before him, signs known only to sworn members of
ee Klirohnohmeea
.

Pehtros then turned upon Koominon, speaking in a low but furious whisper. “Now, father, will you speak the truth or not?”

Koominon looked up, met those hard black eyes briefly, then returned his gaze to the floor as he said, “But… but I have told the truth, my lord
komees
. Would you then question the word of a humble priest of Holy Mother the church? No true son of our Faith would do so.”

Pehtros snorted and the one called Pahvlos chuckled. “Save your verbal goosedung for those simpleminded souls it impresses, humble priest The tale you told me on our way here matches that just told by Neeka. Why are you trying to change your story? Are you in fear of that stunted little barbarian apelet? Speak, damn you!”

Koominon squirmed and shuffled his feet. Finally, he said, “Lord
komees
, you all know who I am, what I really am, and how much in danger I am as a consequence.”

“What the hell,” snapped Pehtros, “has all that got to do with this matter? If you don’t publicly tell the truth in this matter, Neeka could be sentenced to a flogging. Is that what you want to see, humble priest?”

Koominon cleared his throat and looked up finally, speaking in a strong whisper. “All must sometimes make painful sacrifices for our Faith. My background will not tolerate too close a scrutiny, and you know it, my lord. It might well mean my death to appear as a witness in a court. If I aver that I saw and heard nothing, I will not be summoned.

“I regret that Neeka must suffer, but she should have considered my precarious state in this house, this city, this accursed Confederation, before she so rashly injured her lawful master. ‘Render unto temporal rulers that which is their own.’”

Him called Pahvlos looked as if he needed to spit “What an utter shit you are, priest. If you are so fearful for your life, if you so fear martyrdom, you should take passage on the next ship for the north.
The
more contact I have with your kind, the more I find myself in total agreement with the High Lord.”

Pehtros said, disgustedly, “For a bent copper, I’d drag you up to the fortress and turn you in myself were not so many others involved. But the full membership of
ee Klirohnohmeea
will know of this by tomorrow night, rest assured of that, humble priest.”

Koominon’s whisper became pleading. “But I must do it this way, cannot you see, my lord? I… I have a duty to my flock.”

“Of whom Neeka is one,” snapped Pehtros. “What of your duty to her?”

“But… there are all the others who need my spiritual guidance, don’t you see, my lord. Besides, you’re taking the barbarian, Froh, to jail.”

“Where I am not at all certain I can legally keep him until Gahbros gets back from Danyuhlzpolis.” Pehtros rasped a thumbnail against one stubbled cheek, then turned to Neeka. “Well, my dear, now you know just how much support you can expect from this pious coward, and just how much he can be trusted in future. As for Master Froh, hmmm. I have the right to jail anyone responsible for creating a public nuisance for up to three days and nights without trial or bail. And that racket that was going on abovestairs when I arrived constituted a public nuisance if ever I heard one; I’ve heard Ahrmehnee wardances that were quieter. Then, too, he resisted arrest, which is why my guard hit him, of course. So there’s another two days and nights. After that, well just have to see. Pray as you’ve never prayed before that Gahbros gets back before those five days are up.”

The next day, the Heritage Council notified Koominon that he was thenceforth barred from any full or partial meeting of
ee Klirohnohmeea
. Sometime that night, he left the house that had once been Master Lokos’. No one ever saw him again in Esmithpolisport.

At the, end of a week, Judge Gahbros still had not returned and the city governor felt compelled to free Pawl Froh, but he himself accompanied the released prisoner back to his inherited property. In front of Neeka and the two apprentice boys—those three being the only other souls now resident in the once busy, bustling, cheerful and happy house—he said, “Master Froh, if you know anything of me by now, it is that I do not often threaten and never idly. But I hereby warn you, I shall be having this house and your operations closely observed. If any harm befalls any of these three, if any of them suddenly disappears, I shall see you brought to full account

“Hire on some good servants. Working mistress Neeka and these boys sick will be considered harm. So will starving them and poisoning them with that rotten swill we found in your larders. These boys are now back in this house and they will stay here; in that damned stable loft, they’d have been dead of lung fever before spring. You’ll be in need of a new cook, too; the good Koominon decamped—after breaking open your strongbox. I’ve no way of knowing how much he took, but it would appear several bags are gone.”

At this revelation, Master Froh suddenly began to weep noisily, like a whipped child, and, heedless of
Komees
Pehtros’ shouts, scuttled rapidly up the stairs toward his rooms and his ravaged strongbox.

Pehtros shook his head. “Not only his body is deformed, Neeka, his mind is too. I think he’s quite mad, and I racked my brains to try to think of a legal means of keeping him in my dungeon where he belongs. But the law is written for all, even such as him. Be very wary of him, all of you. Should he become violent, let me know at once. God keep you all. Now I must go.”

Not wishing to chance a return to the dungeons of the city governor, Master Froh grudgingly obeyed the
komees
dictates, rehiring Ahrohnos, who had been Koominon’s assistant cook, and two elderly women recommended by that worthy. The two boys had been moved into vacant rooms on the onetime servants’ floor and Ahrohnos appropriated Koominon’s small suite. The apprentice dormitory remained vacant, for Froh had been sternly warned that any repetition of the night-long brawls would see him heavily fined, something which he feared much more than being jailed. When Neeka announced that she would stay in the room that had always been hers, Pehtros sent workmen who fitted the door with a self-locking mechanism, as well as with iron brackets for an oaken bar. Paying them out of the strongbox Koominon had so thoughtfully broken open seemed to make the
komees
inordinately happy.

But Neeka was no longer worried about nighttime forays by Froh, for Ahrohnos, who recalled the unfair circumstances of his firing, bore no scintilla of liking or respect for his employer and was not at all averse to adding to Pawl Froh’s evening meals certain tasteless herbs given him by Neeka. The heir blamed his constant evening sleepiness on shamefully overheated rooms, but even so he made no move to install another lock to replace the one broken off the charcoal shed at Pehtros’ order.

For a brief two weeks, it seemed to Neeka almost as if dear Master Lokos was still alive and simply gone from the city on a trip, but it was too good to last One afternoon, Ahrohnos hurried into the shop and drew Neeka aside. The slender man’s face was drawn with worry, and his voice was tight and harsh.

“Mistress Neeka, Lord Pehtros was attacked as he passed through the central marketplace this noon. The men who attacked him and his guards were all slain, but he was gravely injured. Some say he’s near death, some say already dead. Mistress Neeka, I
saw
the corpses of the men who struck him down. All of them were men who roomed in the apprentice dormitory… and at least two of them were closeted with Master Froh yesterday afternoon.”

Komees
Pehtros died that night, and most citizens of Esmithpolisport mourned his tragic passing, for he had been an efficient, honest and fair city governor, with many friends and few enemies. Sizable rewards, to be paid jointly by fort commander Major Pahvlos and
Thoheeks
Esmith, were shouted through every street and alley by brazen-throated town criers all through the following day. On the morning of the second day after the murder, Ahrohnos hurried into the shop, red-faced and sweating heavily, despite the bitter chill.

“Mistress Neeka,” he puffed, his little round belly jiggling to his labored breathing, “Master Froh is making ready to leave the city. Should I go to the fort and tell what I saw on the day before they killed poor
Komees
Pehtros? Should I, Mistress Neeka?”

“How do you know Froh is leaving the city, Ahrohnos? Maybe he’s just going out to sell more of Master Lokos’ estate,” said Neeka.

“Mistress Neeka, he had me and the boys carry three travel trunks down from his suite. His iron box is open and empty, and it took all three of us to carry that last trunk downstairs, and it the smallest one, at that. He sent one of the boys to find a carter, too,” replied the chef. “Oh, Mistress Neeka, I just know he means to leave on the noon coach. Should I go to the fort? Please tell me.”

Neeka thought hard. Of course Ahrohnos should tell his tale to the authorities. Froh should not be allowed to get away with a conspiracy to murder, nor should he be allowed to quit the city with the specie into which he had converted so much of Master Lokos’ estate. On the other hand, she had no wish to be left alone with the hunchback. She had hurt him, humiliated him and been responsible for his incarceration, and she had no doubt that the vindictive little barbarian swine would at least try to accomplish some sort of revenge upon her before he left Esmithpolisport.

“Do you have a weapon, Ahrohnos?”

From within the tops of his calf-length boots, the chef withdrew a pair of short, edgeless stilettos, five inches of blued blade and guardless bone hilts. Wordlessly, he laid them on the counter, his bushy brows raised in silent question.

Neeka nodded, picked up one of the needle-pointed instruments, hefted it, then thrust it deep into the large, gleaming bun of blue-black hair at her nape. Reaching into a secret place beneath the counter, she laid a couple of silver
thrahkmeh
pieces before Ahrohnos.

“For the gate guard,” she told the man. “There’ll be no waiting for you to see Major Pahvlos if you spread a little silver amongst the guards. Hurry, Ahrohnos!”

Master Fahreed nodded to himself. The bleeding from the heart thrust under Neeka’s left breast had slowed to a trickle of pale pink—blood mixed with clear serum. Stepping back over to his victim, his sensitive fingers found the throat pulse. They found it easily, for it was
strong
.

“
C
’
est impossible
?’ In his shock and wonderment, he reverted to the language to which he had been born on an island far to the south in the hot seas beyond the Witch Kingdom.

Crouching, the physician placed an ear to Neeka’s breast for a moment, then straightened, stood and stepped back with a muttered “
Merde!”

The woman’s heart, which he had so carefully damaged, supposedly shredded, with his skill and the little knife, was beating as rhythmically and as powerfully as before ever the blade had tasted of her blood. Crouching down again, he gently lifted the left breast.

An icy-cold prickling suffused his entire body and the small room seemed to be spinning about him. The narrow wound had now ceased to bleed entirely,
and it was closing, healing
, even as he watched!

Ahrohnos had not been gone ten minutes when Master Froh shuffled into the shop from the rear. As the cook had said, the cripple was dressed for travel—thigh-high boots, linsey-woolsey trousers and shirt, a wool scarf wrapped around his scrawny neck, a fur-lined leather cap; over the shirt, Neeka noticed that he had donned one of the several old brigandines that Master Lokos had customarily loaned to the hired bravos who accompanied him on long journeys. The armored garment might even have been a fair fit, save that Froh’s hump caused the back of it to ride far up.

Behind the shuffling little man came two bigger, normal men. Neeka recognized one of them, and her heart sank. She knew what the abominable creature was going to say even before he showed his rotting teeth in a leering grin.

“Betchew thought as how you’s gonna git away with breakin my nose and damn near pullin my balls off and get-tin me thowed inna friggin jail, dintchew, you Ehleen bitch? I thought on havin you kilt, too, but then I figgered thet wouldn’ make no sense when I might be abut to turn me a hones’ profit. Well, these here mens jus’ branged me half the money and, when we all gits to the whorehouse, Mistress Djoy, she’ll gimme the rest. And I might even spend some of it to buy me a piece offn you ‘fore I leaves this dunghill town.”

Stoo Shif, the pimp bravo Neeka had recognized, grinned too. “Dont give us no trouble, Neeka, honey. If you do, I’ll feel obliged to knock you in the head, and Lady Djoy, she’s real anxious to talk private with you, soon’s you git there.” He came around the counter and reached out for her body with both hands and, when she flinched away from him, he said in a placating tone, “Now, honey, just hold on, I ain’t trying to cop no feel off you, I just wanta be sure you aint got a knife or nothing.” He chuckled and added, “Howsom-ever, as I recal ekt, you don’t need you no knife to kill a man.”

He hooked a thumb at the other bravo. “This here’s Alik Dahl. He’s a ole Freefighter, like me, but he aint been with Lady Djoy but ‘
bout
a year. He was hired on after a damn drunk sailor kilt ole Djimi one night.”

Neeka went quietly. After the cautious Stoo had meticulously examined the garment for hidden weapons, he helped her to don her cloak, then he and his partner followed Neeka and the grinning, chortling hunchback out of the shop and down the street toward the dockside section in which was located Djoy Skriflfen’s bordello.