The Taste of Waterfruit and Other Stories (Story Portals) Page 15

  Lady Kat studied his face with those perceptive eyes. “You could have used that same trick to escape me.”

  “Really?” Teverus managed to freight his voice with surprise. “I never even considered it.”

  * * *

  As they made their way through the forest, Teverus said: “You know I am unarmed.”

  “It seemed like a useful precaution,” said Kat.

  “Not if we encounter more riders.”

  “I’m sure we’ve left them well behind.”

  Teverus snorted. “I saved you from the riders. I proved you can trust me.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Is that what you proved?”

  He scowled at her.

  “By the gods,” she muttered under her breath, “if I wasn’t already being hunted by the Guild they’d throw me out just for considering this.” She turned to look at him. “If I remember correctly you preferred knives?”

  “I will take whatever weapon you offer.”

  She pressed a scabbard into his hand.

  He pulled the blade free of its leather covering. It was a foot of polished steel with a wicked edge. He could tell by its superior balance that it was meant for throwing.

  “It’s charmed,” said Kat. “It can’t be used against me.”

  Teverus wasn’t sure he believed that, but he had no intention of testing the proposition. If he were wrong it would mean his life.

  She nodded at the blade. “The tip’s been dipped in the venom of a sea cobra--so try to keep from nicking yourself with it.”

  Teverus chuckled and slipped the blade back into its scabbard. He tucked it into his belt at the small of his back. For the first time he thought he might actually get out of this alive.

  And Kilah.

  The pair emerged from the forest at the top of a hill that looked down on Aarock’s ministry. His church was a small affair. Built from whitewashed stone, it included a nave that was perhaps big enough to accommodate a hundred parishioners. Behind the main building a small addition had been built, large enough to include three rooms the size of Teverus’s hovel.

  “Which god abides in such a humble place?” asked Kat, her voice tinged with amusement.

  “Ikanis, the god of travel and strangers well-met.”

  “Clearly an important deity.”

  Teverus felt a flash of irritation. “If you don’t find Ikanis or his servants sufficiently impressive we can always go, lady.”

  Kat shook her head, a smile wide on her pretty face. “My apologies, Teverus. I offer my most reverent greetings to the mighty Ikanis.”

  Teverus scowled, but in truth he felt the first stirrings of hope since he’d lost the poultice. If there was anyone who could help him it was the short, amiable priest. While most people offered only their troubles (he glanced sidelong at Kat), Aaroch offered genuine solace.

  The priest was down in his garden, on all fours, tending his vegetables with his own hands. He was just as Teverus remembered him, a short, fat man with a kindly face well-bronzed. He wore robes the dark green of the forest. A copper medallion that bore the visage of Ikanis hung about his neck on a leather cord.

  When the priest glanced up and saw Teverus and Kat strolling down the hill, he leapt up and waved grandly. “Tranick,” he called out (though Aaroch was the only one in the Commons who new Teverus’s true name). “Good Tranick.”

  “Hail, holy sir,” Teverus called out.

  The two men clasped arms. “You are well met,” said the priest, glancing at Kat. “But who’s this?”

  “A very good question, indeed,” said another voice, this one as cruel and cold as a winter wind.

  Teverus looked up and saw a rider come down out of the trees not a dozen strides from where they stood. He was the first rider, his handsome face framed by dark hair, his bow out and an arrow already fitted to its nock, a second ready to take its place.

  “I suggest you all remain very still,” said the rider. “My considerable patience is very nearly at its end.”

  Teverus shook his head. “But . . . how?”

  “Your flash of light caused my horse to rear and I fell. Again.” The rider gave Teverus a sour look. “Fortunately, that meant I was slow to follow your trail, so I did not go haring after the two horses you sent along the river, as my men did. Imagine my surprise when I noticed a woman’s boot prints in the dust of the trail. I found your path. I couldn’t pass with my horse, but it took only a little work to determine where it must come out. And now our overlong game is at an end, at last.”

  Lady Kat shook her head. “Well, well, Blackman. You surprise me. You proved to be more resourceful than I expected.” She took a step toward him. “But now I suggest you go. You’re in considerable danger.”

  “He cannot go, miss,” said Aarock. “He has seen the three of us together. He will tell his confederates.”

  Blackman chuckled. “I am in no danger. I can place an arrow through a man’s heart before he can blink.” He looked pointedly at Kat. “Or a woman’s. The moment you move, Lady Kat, either you or your guide here--” he glanced at Teverus, “--both of you will be dead.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Teverus saw Aaroch’s hand reach up to touch the medallion of his god. This was too much for the little priest to cope wi--

  A massive concussion shattered the peaceful summer day, knocking Teverus to the ground.

  Knocking the rider Blackman from his mount, yet again.

  Teverus was on his feet in a moment. The man lay on the ground in a heap, moaning. Something wrong jutted at an unnatural angle beneath the skin of the man’s right arm. Whatever force had ripped the horseman from his steed had also shattered bones.

  “Excellent work, my lady,” breathed Teverus

  Kat shook her head. “It wasn’t me.” There was a tight smile on her face, one that reminded Teverus of her disturbing expression in the woods.

  “Ikanis has intervened to save us,” said Aarock. “Thank the merciful gods.” He looked up at them, frantic with fear. “Now, you two must be on your way. Soon the rider’s confederates will find him.” He stepped over to the injured rider and knelt down. “I will tend to this misguided soul. With the grace of the gods he may yet be saved.”

  “Really?” said Kat. “Because I think he’s more likely to die.”

  Aarock froze.

  Teverus frowned at her, confused.

  Kat folded her arms across her chest. “It would take a powerful constitution indeed to survive the care of a death mage.” She looked straight at the little priest. “Isn’t that right, Gliddus?”

  Aarock slowly straightened.

  Teverus’s jaw gaped open. “No. No. Aarock has never showed me anything but kindness.”

  “Are you certain?” asked Lady Kat. “Would you wager your daughter’s life on that assessment?”

  “This is outrageous,” snapped Aaroch.

  “He is a good man,” insisted Teverus. “Just look at him.”

  “Of course,” said Kat, her voice heavy with irony. “Because no killer would ever disguise his identity.”

  “But--”

  “Who struck Blackman down?”

  “You did,” said Teverus, but he remembered Aaroch touching the copper medallion at his neck.

  “Listen, well, Teverus,” said Kat her eyes never leaving the priest. “You asked me before, what kind of person would choose to hide in a land so filled with death.” She nodded in the priest’s direction. “Now you know. He draws power from every child with fever, every slaughtered cattle, every mouse the hawk culls from the field.”

  A cruel smile stretched across the priest’s round, fat face. “All these years,” he whispered, “and no one ever figured it out. I really believed no one ever would.” He bobbed his head in Kat’s direction. “You truly are the most clever assassin of your age.”

  Teverus wheeled on Gliddus, suddenly furious, his hands balled into fists. “You’re not just living off of the death you find here,” he snarled. “You’re sowin
g it like a crop.” Teverus took a step toward the death mage.

  Gliddus held up his hand. “Be careful, my old friend.” He nodded at Kat. “She’s right about this place.” For a moment, Gliddus’s dark eyes seemed to glow with a red light. “There is much power here. You don’t want me to turn it on you.”

  Teverus felt a tickle at the back of his throat, then a constriction, as if the muscles of his neck were swelling up, closing his airway. He tried to speak, to cry out, anything, but no sound would come.

  Gray spots danced before his eyes.

  Kat laughed softly. “Oh, he’s going to turn it on you no matter what you do.”

  “That’s enough out of you, witch,” said Gliddus in a low, venomous voice. He raised his hand and that moment Teverus knew the death mage was going to kill them both.

  Teverus felt consciousness slipping away from him and knew once it was gone it would never return. But there was still a moment, one final moment to act.

  The knife left Teverus’s hand and its flight was straight and true, and when it plunged into the mage’s black heart, Teverus felt death loosen its grip on the land.

  And then all was darkness.

  * * *

  When the world again roused Teverus, he was lying in the back of a wagon on a bed of hay. He saw the rider Blackman sitting in the back of the wagon looking down at him. The rider’s smoldering eyes were fixed on Teverus.

  Fearing an attack, the former assassin quickly sat up.

  And then the world grayed ominously, and Teverus almost passed out again. Only a strong, steady hand kept him from flopping back down into the wagon’s bed. He looked up and into the violet eyes of Lady Kat.

  “Careful,” she said, “or you’re going to hurt your head again.”

  “We’ve been captured,” said Teverus under his breath.

  Kat’s laugh was musical. “That’s not quite how it is.” She turned to look at the mercenary. “Tell him about the terms of your employment, Blackman.”

  Blackman scowled at her, murder in his eyes.

  Kat sighed. “Damn it man, you’re being paid well enough.”

  The rider shook his head and pushed an angry hiss out between his teeth, but he said: “We were hired by an unknown client to hunt down the woman known as Lady Kat and return her alive to the city. I was told I would know my employer by a jade pendant with a sword and a crescent moon inscribed on its face.”

  Kat produced a jade pendant with a sword and a crescent moon inscribed on its face.

  Teverus’s eyes widened. “They were in your employ the whole time?”

  “It would have been nice if you could have told us about it,” muttered Blackman darkly.

  “I didn’t want you to pretend to hunt me. I wanted you to actually hunt me.”

  “The Guild’s not actually after you?” said Teverus.

  Kat smiled sweetly at him.

  Teverus gingerly touched his aching head. The world was still a little fuzzy “You pretended you were a fugitive so someone would lead you to Gliddus.” Teverus looked up at her. “A clever plan.” His voice turned bitter. “Too bad it put an innocent little girl at risk.”

  The wagon jerked to a stop.

  “Is that what you think of me?” Kat shook her head. “Well, go see for yourself.”

  Teverus looked around and realized the wagon had brought him back to his own hovel. He vaulted over the wagon’s side.

  Little Kilah burst out of the hovel, her face filled with healthy color, her eyes bright, her long brown hair flying behind her like a flag.

  Her laughter filled the world.

  Dimly Teverus was aware of Kat saying something to the riders, of the sound of the wagon restarting its slow, bouncing journey, but he didn’t care about any of that. He caught his daughter in his arms, jerked her up, and swung her around in a mad circle, both of them laughing and crying at the same time.

  He clutched the girl’s little body to his, feeling the warmth of her, the life of her. He couldn’t help tickling Kilah. She squirmed in his arms and exploded with great, shaking belly laughs.

  Teverus turned and saw Kat, standing by her horse, watching him. “You promised you would buy her a second poultice.”

  “I promised I would help your daughter. And I did. When Gliddus died, the dark grip he had on the land was released. Your daughter’s pestilence was cast out.”

  “But I killed Gliddus.”

  Kat shook her head. “I killed Gliddus. You were merely the tool I used to accomplish the task.”

  “Then . . . all our business is concluded.” Teverus licked his lips, waiting for what must come next.

  She knew who he was. She’d used him to execute her contract on Gliddus. And now she’d bring him in for a handsome reward. There was absolutely no possibility it could turn out any other way.

  If there was one thing the harsh life of the Commons had taught him, it was that no one was ruled by kindness or compassion. Lady Kat had an advantage and she was sure to use it. Nothing else was possible.

  Kat walked over to the man and the child.

  “Thank you,” Teverus whispered hoarsely--and meant it.

  The woman cocked her head, a question in those extraordinary violet eyes.

  “You allowed me to see to Kilah,” he whispered. “Before-- Before--” He shook his head, unable to finish that sentence.

  The woman reached out and gently placed her palm over the little girl’s head, smoothing back hair still tangled and sweaty from the child’s long illness.

  Then she turned and went to the horse the riders had left for her and she flashed him a small, enigmatic smile. “Do not trouble yourself, Tranick. I told you before. I did not come for you.”

  And then she mounted her horse, turned the beast away from Teverus’s hovel, and rode away.

  Double-Booked

  By Aaron Rosenberg

  “Belanon’s horns!” Katya swore quietly under her breath as she turned away from the street. A light traveling hood covered her long black hair and much of her face but she raised her mug to further hide her from view. The tall, gawky young man who had just prowled past didn’t give her a second glance, his pale eyes intent on other targets, but she studied his back as he moved away, his gait halfway between the confident stride of a normal youth and the sure, graceful steps of a man well versed in combat and death. Though his hands were concealed within the trader’s outer robe he wore, she knew his fingertips would be stained with just a hint of green.

  The Grass Hand.

  What was he doing here?

  She had never met him directly, but she had seen him once or twice, when the Guild had felt it necessary to call a meeting and she had found it prudent to attend. She had also heard his name bandied about by some, including both her combat trainer Valesh and her weapons source Alessan. Many considered the Grass Hand the most promising of the younger set, well poised to attain greatness and earn his place in the top tier.

  With people like Katya herself.

  But why was he here by the Fourth Gate? And she saw the way he watched a man crossing the road, how his gaze narrowed at the sight of the stranger’s loose cotton headdress.

  He was looking for Rhocannians.

  That couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Katya drained her tea and rose to her feet, setting a finger of bronze down beside the empty mug. If it was what she suspected, she would need to confirm that, and fast.

  This had looked like a messy job to start with. Now it was turning downright ugly.

  *

  “I thought we’d agreed that there would be no more contact—” Gunther grumbled as he stepped into the room, but Katya didn’t give him a chance to finish.

  “You went behind my back,” she accused, leaning across the table and glaring at him. “You hired someone else for the job.” By the way his eyes went wide and his dusky skin turned pale, she knew she was right. “What were you thinking?”

  It only took him a second to regain his composure, which was bo
th impressive and troubling. Especially since he saw Kat as a tall, powerfully built woman with arms as thick as most men’s thighs, an iron-grey braid, and the scars of a hundred battles. “There was nothing in our arrangement that precluded that,” he argued smoothly, setting into the chair opposite her and stroking his short beard in a manner that was clearly meant to look self-assured but came off as nervous. “I am simply ensuring the success of my venture. If you are the one who performs that service we agreed upon, the fee for completion is yours. If not, you will retain the initial sum but someone else will have the rest.”

  Thunk, chink! The heavy bag rattled as Kat tossed it onto the table between them. “Keep it,” she growled, glowering. She stayed on her feet, refusing to do him the honor of dropping to his level. “I’m out.”

  He frowned at the bag and made not even a twitch toward it, forcing her to reappraise him. He had presented himself as a merchant from Calesh, and Katya’s sources had confirmed that, but merchants lived by their wealth and there was too much gold in that sack for him not to at least think of reaching for it. That and the way he had carefully avoided mentioning the specifics of the job just now—as if he worried that others might be listening, and needed to avoid incriminating himself—told her there was more to this short, plump man than met the eye.

  Which most likely meant there was more to this job as well.

  “Are you certain?” He studied her, and for a second it seemed to Kat that his eyes sought her own rather than those of the illusion she had crafted around her. Not that her spell couldn’t be pierced, but it would take considerable skill to do so. Another unsettling incongruity. “I admit, I did hire others, but you are still the one I expected to complete the task. The others are simply...insurance.”

  “They’re obstacles, is what they are,” she shot back. “One of them got in my way already today, and who knows what they could muck up during an actual attempt? How many did you hire, including me?”

  That drew a short laugh from him. “If you’re canceling our contract you surely don’t expect me to answer that,” he told her. “Unless you are still on the job, it is none of your concern.”

  “Fair enough,” she admitted. In truth, she hadn’t expected him to answer, but it had been worth a shot. She folded her arms across her chest. “Take your money and go, then. We’re done.”