Weapon of Vengeance (Weapon of Flesh Trilogy) (22 page)

“To get back to your original question, Master
Woefler.  Someone tried to kill me in my home last evening.”  Norwood gave an
accurate account of the attack, and the assassin’s vaporous escape, only
leaving out the part about his savior assassin.  If anyone found out he’d been
exchanging information with the Assassin’s Guild, there would be all Nine Hells
to pay.  The last thing Norwood wanted was a manhunt to scare off his informant
or, worse yet, make him angry.

“Really?”  The wizard’s eyes fairly glowed with
intrigue.  “A coincidence is quite improbable, Captain.  That was surely Baron
Patino’s killer.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought, too, but it raises a
disturbing question: How did he know I was investigating Patino’s death?  I
told no one but you and the duke.”

“Yes, that is disturbing, but before we go there,
Captain, let me ask you
how
this man vanished.  What exactly happened? 
What did you see, hear, smell, or even taste?  Did your skin tingle?  Was there
a temperature change?  If so, was it hot or cold?  Any details at all would
help.”

Norwood thought back.  His memories of that moment
were quite vivid, right down to his own pounding heart and the blood on the tip
of his dagger.  “I cut him, and he pulled back.  I asked who he was.  He said,
‘the right hand of death’, and then some black mist or vapor bloomed from
somewhere near his hand, and it…consumed him.  There was no sound, no smell
that I remember, and I didn’t feel anything like heat, cold, or static.”

“Consumed him…”  Woefler put down his wine glass and
leaned forward.  “Describe that, please.”

“The dark vapor came up fast, like…streamers of
black smoke, and as it swirled and spread over his body, there was nothing
left.  His hands and feet were the last to vanish, but his body was already
gone.  When I put a blade through it, the stuff just swirled away like mist on
the breeze.  It happened fast.”

“That is
very
interesting, Captain.”  Woefler
nodded.  “Yes, I think this was most definitely an interplanar shift, not a
transposition spell like mine.”

“What’s an…interplanar shift?”

“A means to step from our plane of existence to
another.  My spell, the one I performed in your office, opens a kind of passage
between two points in our world.  I simply step through, as I would an open
door.”  He smiled, pleased by his explanation, and reached for the wine
decanter.   “Are you sure you won’t have a glass of this remarkable sherry,
Captain?  You look as if you could use a drink.”

“Well, it’s not even noon yet, but…”

“Nonsense.”  Woefler poured both of their glasses
full.  “A sailor friend of mine once told me that the sun is
always
over
the yardarm
somewhere
.”

“Very well.  Thank you.”  He took the glass, sipped,
and had to agree; the sherry was remarkable.  The warm glow trickled into his
stomach, but didn’t do much to relax him.

“Now, you were hypothesizing about how this assassin
learned you were investigating Patino’s death.  Let me assure you that no one
learned it from me.”

“But you copied down my inquiries to the Royal
Archives here in your chambers.  Could someone spy on you here?”

“No, Captain.”  The wizard looked affronted by the
suggestion.  “The entire palace is protected from magical intrusion.  And I
always have protection, so no one could have heard our discussion in your
office, either.”

“Well, what about someone sneaking in and reading
the message you while you were out?”  He nodded to the scroll on the golden
stand.

“Even if someone
could
get in here without
being reduced to ashes, the message I sent is not here.  It’s in Tsing.”

“But you said you had to write it down there, on the
scroll.”

“Yes, I did.  Let me explain how this magic works.” 
Woefler sipped his sherry and plucked another dainty from the tray.  “When I
write on that scroll, the words appear on an identical scroll in Tsing, not the
scroll here.  I destroyed your note with your inquiries as soon as I
transcribed them, so there was no trace for anyone to find here in my
quarters.  The scroll in your hand is the only copy of the return message, and
I only received that this morning,
after
your assassination attempt.”

“That narrows the potential leak points
considerably.  Duke Mir’s the only other person here who knows of the
investigation…”

Woefler was already shaking his head.  “If you
haven’t noticed, Duke Mir can be rather paranoid about security.  He would not pass
information that you gave him on to anyone else, not even the duchess.  Your
leak is not in Twailin.”

“So, the leak is a thousand miles away...”

“It seems so, Captain, but this magical messaging
system is as secret there as it is here.  Few would see your inquiry.”

“Who might have?”

“The emperor’s archmage, definitely.  I doubt he
took your request to the emperor himself for approval, so at least one imperial
page to deliver it.  Then there’s the royal archivist, of course, and probably
one or two assistants.”  He shrugged.  “No more than six people, and none who
would care about your inquiries.”

“Someone apparently does.  And somehow they got a
message to this priest in Twailin, thinking that if they killed me, they’d stop
the investigation.”

“Captain, I think you are misunderstanding the magic
involved here.  If this assassin does indeed travel by interplanar shift, then
distance means nothing.  He could transport himself from Tsing to your home in
the blink of an eye.”

“Marvelous.”  Norwood downed his sherry and sighed. 
His plan wasn’t quite working out how he thought it would, but with a wizard on
his side…  “Master Woefler, I’d like to set a little trap for our killer, but I
need your help.”

“I’d be
delighted
to help.”  Woefler grinned
like he’d been offered a title.  “What do you need?”

“A map of the empire that shows the baron’s estates,
to start with.  He has three; two are relatively close to Twailin.”

Curiosity glinted in the wizard’s eye.  “Are you
planning pay a visit to further your investigation?”

“I am.”  Norwood could see the wheels working behind
Woefler’s eyes. 
At least he’s on my side
.

“And since that is outside of your jurisdiction,
you’ll need permission from the Duke.”

“Yes, but I’ll tell Duke Mir I’m going to one
estate, while I’ll really be going to another.  That way, if someone shows up
to kill me, it’ll confirm that the duke wasn’t the leak.”

“And you’ll have me send a query to the emperor about
this estate you really plan to visit, so if someone comes to kill you, it will
be confirm that the leak is in Tsing.”

“Yes.  And you’ll include some language to make it
clear that I have found irregularities with the baron’s death.  Don’t call it
murder, but say that I’m investigating.”

“Of course.”

“And I need you to make sure the message says
exactly where I’m visiting and when I’ll be there.”

“You plan to use yourself as bait…”  Woefler’s
intrigue faded with concern.  “The duke won’t like that, Captain.”

“The duke doesn’t need to know.”  He narrowed his
eyes at the wizard.  “Does he?”

Woefler’s smile broadened, and he reached for the
wine decanter.  “Hunting murderers is such thirsty work, Captain Norwood.”

The corners of Norwood’s mouth twitched.  “Only one
more, Master Woefler.  Just while we look at the map.  I have to speak to the
duke straightaway.”

L
ad
jerked out of his trance-like state and whirled, batting away the hand that had
touched his shoulder.  Dee’s yelp of pain stopped the killing blow that would
have followed.

“Don’t do that!”  Lad relaxed from his fighting
stance and glared at his assistant.  “Don’t
ever
touch me without my
being aware of you!  I could have killed you!”

“Yes, sir.”  Dee rubbed his wrist where Lad had
struck.  “I called, but you didn’t respond.  I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’d be sorrier if I broke your fool neck by
accident.”  Lad cursed inwardly, blinked, and took in his surroundings.  It was
dark.  He’d come up to his room to change clothes, stopping just for a moment
to watch the sunset from the balcony.  That must have been a half-hour ago. 
Once again, he’d been lost in thoughts of Wiggen and Lissa, the first time he
held his daughter in his arms… 
Gods I miss them both so much
…  He
blinked again and focused on Dee.  “Next time just stomp your foot or throw
something at me.”

“Yes, sir.  Your guards are downstairs.  They were
worried.”

“I just came up to change.  I didn’t think I needed
an escort.”

Dee frowned in disapproval, but just nodded toward the
door.  “Dinner’s ready, sir.  Hensen’s waiting in the dining room.”

“Let him wait.”  Lad strode to his wardrobe and
flung open the door, suddenly irritated by Dee’s oppressively protective
attitude.  He knew he should eat, but the thought of food clenched his
stomach.  He picked out a dark shirt and trousers.  “On second thought, go
ahead and feed him.  I’m not eating.  I’m going out.”

“Sir, please.  Do you think going out is wise?”

“You’re my assistant, not my keeper!”  Lad stripped
off his fashionable silk shirt and donned the dark linen one.

“Yes, sir, but I believe keeping you alive falls
under my purview.”  Dee picked up the fallen shirt and folded it.  “You said
yourself that someone might be out to kill you, someone who can magically
appear anywhere he wants.  If I had been that person just now, you’d be dead.”

Lad stopped and glared.  Once Dee finally realized
that the guildmaster wasn’t going to kill him for speaking his mind, he seemed
to grow bolder with each passing day.  But what irritated Lad was not so much
Dee’s mothering interference, but that he was right.  He had been thoughtless
to leave his guards downstairs, and to consider going out alone.  He flung the
dark trousers back into the wardrobe and started pacing.  “I
can’t
just
sit here waiting, Dee!  It’s driving me crazy!  I’ve got to
do
something!”

“Well, if you don’t mind my asking, sir, what are
you waiting for?”  Dee placed the silk shirt on a shelf, then picked up the
trousers and started to fold them.

“What?”  The question snapped through Lad’s dark
mood.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why don’t you do something?  You said
you’re waiting on information about Patino from your informant.  How long will
that take?”

“
Weeks
, apparently.  The inquiry has to go to
Tsing and back.”

“And so do you.”  Dee tucked the trousers away and
closed the wardrobe door.  “You and Miss Mya, that is.”

“I can’t just leave, Dee!  We haven’t found Kiesha
yet.”

“Master, we both worked for the Hunters long enough
to know that, if you don’t find someone within the first couple of days, the
search is apt to drag out for weeks.”  He shrugged.  “And if she’s found in
your absence, she’ll be kept safely locked up until you return.”

Lad grudgingly conceded that point, but persisted
with another.  “And if my informant needs to contact me with news about Patino
while I’m gone?”

“The news will also be here when you return.  But
there’s also the opportunity for you and Miss Mya to conduct your own
investigation while you’re in Tsing.  Someone there will have known the baron. 
He may even have relatives living in the city.  Posing as gentry, you might be
able to pick up information through social channels.”

Lad peered at Dee.  His assistant seemed to have all
the answers. 

“But sitting in a
carriage
for weeks?”  The
prospect of so long in a rolling coffin grated like sand between his teeth.

“Or sit here for the same weeks waiting for word on
Patino or for someone to find Kiesha, and
then
have to go to Tsing.” 

“The Grandmaster isn’t expecting me for another
month.”

Dee shrugged again.  “His instructions said
within
two months, sir.  You can go earlier.  I’ll send a fast courier ahead to inform
him of your pending arrival.  I’ve got your clothes ready for a final fitting,
and I can charter a carriage in a day.  Besides, if you’re traveling, an
assassin won’t know where to find you.”

Lad could think of no more arguments.  Dee was
right.  Once he got this meeting with the Grandmaster out of the way, his time
would be his own.  The trip needn’t be a waste of effort.  They could investigate
Patino in Tsing, and Lad might be able to determine if the Grandmaster was
behind Patino’s contract to protect Lad and Mya.

What if there’s a link to Kiesha
…
to Wiggen’s death
?  The
ring on Lad’s finger seemed to constrict, a garrote around his soul.  Even if
the Grandmaster admitted to orchestrating the killing, there was nothing he
could do about it.  Lad shook his head to clear his thoughts.  He was getting
ahead of himself. 
I need facts, not supposition
.  Only then would he
have a focus for his vengeance.

“Fine.  Set it up.”  He doffed the dark shirt and
pulled out the one Dee had just put away.  “Send runners to Mya and Sereth. 
Tell Mya that we’re leaving day after tomorrow, whether she’s ready or not. 
Inform Sereth that he’ll be in charge of the guild in my absence.”

“Sereth, sir?”

“Yes.”  Sereth owed him, not only for Jinny’s life,
but for his own as well.  The Master Blade understood that debt, and would
repay it with loyalty.

“Very well, sir, but you may want to send Hensen
home, and give Sereth explicit orders not to kill him while you’re gone.”  Dee
folded the discarded shirt and put it away.  “You may have noticed
the…um…friction between them.”

“
Friction
?  That’s putting it mildly, but
you’re right.”  Lad strode to the door.  “I’ll tell Hensen he’s going home, and
you draft the messages.  I’ll sign them after dinner.”

“Very good sir.”

Lad ignored the satisfied smile on Dee’s face.  Let him
enjoy his little victory.  At least this gave Lad something to do.

The knock on the front door sent Sereth’s hand to
the hilt of his sword.  His two bodyguards reacted by moving to interpose
themselves between him and the door.

Don’t be stupid, Sereth
!  Assassins rarely knocked,
especially ones who could pop in and out magically. 
But it might serve as a
distraction
…

“Jinny?” he called up the stairs.  She had been in
their bedroom unpacking clothes she hadn’t worn in years.  Sereth had ordered
all their belongings moved to his new house, and the two of them had been unpacking
all afternoon.  The place was starting to feel like a home, but his nerves were
on edge, and he hadn’t heard her in a while.  “Jinny!”

“I’m here, Sereth.”  She stepped onto the landing, a
bundle of clothes draped over one arm and a dagger in her free hand.  She held
the blade as he’d taught her.  She was no assassin, but she could defend
herself well enough.

That’s my Jinny
.

“I heard the knock.  Who is it?”

“Probably just business.”  The smile he flashed her
fell as he turned back to the door.  Few outside the guild knew where he lived,
and he intended to keep it that way.  He nodded to one of his bodyguards. 
“Open it.”

The Enforcer complied, revealing a breathless young
woman in a sweat-stained jerkin.  “Message for Master Sereth.”  She held out a
sealed scroll tube.

The Enforcer reached for it, but Sereth’s paranoia
flared.  “Don’t touch it!”

Both bodyguard and messenger froze.

Sereth stepped forward.  “Who is it from?”

“Your master, sir.”

That boded well; a guild messenger would never blurt
out Lad’s name.  “Come in.”

The messenger stepped through the door without
hesitation, and showed no trace of anxiety when the Enforcer closed it behind
her.

“Now, hold out the scroll.”  She did so, again
without hesitation or any sign of nervousness.  Reaching out his hand, the
tingle from Sereth’s ring assured him that the scroll case wasn’t dangerous. 
He took the tube.  “Wait.  I might have a reply.”

He popped the waxed seal, unrolled the scroll, and
read.  He blinked and read it again, wondering if this was some mistake. 
Swallowing hard, he read it a third time to make sure he understood.  Convinced
that he wasn’t hallucinating, he turned back to the messenger.  “Inform my
master that I received his message, and that I’ll follow his orders to the
letter.”

“Very good, sir.”  The young woman bowed and left. 
The door thumped closed, and the two Enforcers relaxed.

“Stay here,” Sereth ordered his bodyguards.  “I want
a private word with Jinny.”

“Yes, sir.”  They folded their arms to wait.  They
knew he wasn’t going to go traipsing off alone.

At the top of the stairs, Jinny met him with worry
in her eyes.  “What is it?”

“Lad’s leaving Twailin.”  Sereth took a deep breath
and let it out slowly, trying to calm his whirling thoughts.  “He’s going to
Tsing to meet the Grandmaster.  Leaving in two days.”

“That’s a long trip.”

“Yes.  Two weeks each way.” 

Jinny gripped his arm.  “Sereth, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jin.”  He smiled at her and almost
laughed at the irony.  “He’s leaving me in charge of the guild while he’s
gone.”

“He’s…
what
?”

Sereth unrolled the note again and read aloud.  “You
will act as interim guildmaster in my absence.  Upon my return, you will resume
your duties as Master Blade.”

Jinny’s grip tightened.  “Sereth!  That’s…”  She
faltered, then said, “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!  Yeah, it’s good.”  He smiled weakly and
patted her hand.  “I…I just didn’t expect it.”

“Why not?  You’re a master.  That means that you’re
good at your job.”

“Yes, but think about it, Jin.  This shows that he
trusts
me.”  Sereth shook his head.  Lad had already trusted him to keep the secret of
Hensen’s contract with Patino.  Though he was curious about why Lad wanted to
keep it from the other masters, he wasn’t about to violate that trust.  Sereth
owed Lad more than he could ever repay.

“Well, then he’s smarter than I thought he was.”

Sereth stared at Jinny in surprise.  “What do you
mean?”

“Oh, I know we owe him our lives, Sereth, but he
just seems a little…I don’t know.  Odd, I guess.”