Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1) (7 page)

“I have gems in there too. Even at the rate I’m
spending, I can live a very long time on what I have. As for sleep, I will find
it where I can.”

“I… well, all right. I’ll do it.

~

Bal-Shim smiled as he watched the work in progress at
Ashur’s former residence. Everything of any value was being pried up, stripped
down and collected for sale. When that was done, he’d sell the house and
grounds. Because it was hard to get anyone but a bronze maker to live along
this street, and because the other bronze makers were no longer willing to work
with him, he might not get the price he wanted. But since he’d gotten it for
free, any price was a profitable price, and he’d find someone.

At Bal-Shim’s side was a tall gaunt man with hollow
cheeks, a very long beard plaited with silver, deep-set eyes under thick black
brows, and somber gray and brown robes trimmed in blocky runes made of lead and
copper. He spoke in a soft voice.

“You are wasting no time, Bal-Shim.”

“On the off chance that the wheels of the council
somehow turn against us, and Ashur is released, I want to get every last coin
out before it happens.”

Besides, thought Bal-Shim, it was much easier and less
tedious than actually running a business. He’d never really had the patience
for it himself, and the fools he hired could manage running his simple show
operation, but keeping Ashur’s going, let alone getting it to make money, was
beyond their skill or his interest.

The other man spoke again, “You are being needlessly
fearful, son of Shulggi. With each passing week we and our friends grow
stronger, and thereby the chance of anything turning against us on the council
grows less.”

“Still,” said Bal-Shim, “It wouldn’t do to have Ashur
released. Not while the other bronze makers are still in business and a force
to be reckoned with.”

“In time,” said the other, “that will cease to be a
problem, and the making of bronze will pass from the hands of the followers of
Zamisphar into yours.”

Bal-Shim thought happily of the wealth that might
mean, though he might have to take the unpleasant step of hiring more overseers
to run at least some the businesses. Bronze making was not the most important
trade in Zakran, but it was important enough that even some of his friends
would balk if it collapsed entirely. He hated the thought of having to put money
into businesses instead of stripping them clean of it for more… pleasant
purposes, but so be it.

The other man interrupted his thoughts, “But at the
moment, Bal-Shim, I agree with you regarding the matter of Ashur dra Artashad.
It might be time to make his removal more… irrevocable.”

Bal-Shim considered that, and then something else,
“Ah, but there’s another problem. Ashur’s arrogant whelp! Where’s he gotten to?
He had some little rat hole to crawl through and escape this house, and sooner
or later we’ll find it. But, what’s he been up to since?”

The other looked unconcerned, “He is little more than
a boy is he not? I think he will be up to little of use. Still, there are many
possibilities. Perhaps he is cowering, or dreaming ill-conceived dreams of
revenge. He might have fled the city to foreign lands, from whence he would no
doubt hope to return some day and strike at you, though more likely he would
end up dead or a beggar.”

Unlike the other man, Bal-Shim knew Ashur’s son, and
took the problem more seriously, “I hope you’re right, but I think we should
make greater efforts to look for him.”

7.
The Tale of Audacity

Arjun walked through the grand bazaar at dusk, heading
for the stall of Umrub the G’abudim. Voices called out in sale of goods from
every corner of the world. The scent of spices and amber mixed with those of
cedar and smoked meats. Strings of beads hung from hooks, silver boxes gleamed
in the sun, and fabrics of many colors sat in rolls before strange-clad
figures. Parrots squawked in cages and snakes hissed in baskets. All the folk
of the world might be found here, and sometimes, he thought, all the thieves.

But he was more watchful now. Training with Inina had
already taught him a few things, and when the pickpockets attempted to ply their
trade, he was watching them. Every few days he had come here, to visit Umrub.
The secretive G’abudim was not much of a conversationalist, but on two
occasions, he’d had stones from Kartam dra Argesh. In each case, the messages
had said merely that his father was alive, but still in captivity.

He approached Umrub’s stall. G’abudim traded mainly in
spices and medicines, though Arjun had heard they also dealt in poisons. Umrub,
like most G’abudim men, was on the shorter side, solidly built, clean shaven on
face and head, and more darkly complexioned than any Hayyidi, though not so
dark as the tall seafarers from far Amshala. He was wearing his folk’s normal
garb – an array of amulets, a kilt short on the sides and long in the center,
very different from the knee-length kilts worn by Hayyidis, and a pair of
peculiar panels hanging on his chest and back, comprised of complex patterns of
various colors.

Umrub’s face was impassive as Arjun approached. He
motioned him closer, and spoke in the soft accent of his people.

“He who calls himself Sharur, welcome. I have a stone
for you today.”

 As Umrub spoke, he handed Arjun the stone with a
small motion, not easily seen. Once it was done, he spoke again, “Know that the
word of unlocking this day’s stone is ‘Nishir’”

“Thank you Umrub, and I have a question for you.”

Umrub gave the slightest nod. “And what would you
ask?”

“I know many things come for trade from the land of
G’abud, and I wish to learn of more of them than can be seen at your stall.

The G’abudim watched him silently for some time, with
a stony expression, but at last he spoke, “Such things may be discussed better
at other places. However first I must see if they may be discussed at all.
Return to me as you normally would, a few days from now, and I will give you
the answer I am given.”

“I will do as you ask,” said Arjun with a bow, and he
departed.

~

Safe in his room at the House of Red, Arjun spoke the
word of unlocking, and as before, words appeared in faintly glowing golden
characters in the air before his eyes. This time, the message was worrisome.

It said that his father’s guards had been removed,
under accusation that they’d become too friendly with him, and new ones had
been assigned. Kartam, by his own means, knew that these new men were in the
pay of Zash-Ulshad, and they were allowing no one in and no news out. It also
added that the greater portion of the household goods of Artashad were to be
sold at a secret auction in what was, at the time of writing, four day’s time.
In the meantime, they had been collected from Bal-Shim’s various warehouses to
a single more convenient location near to the great bazaar.

Arjun knew the place, and considered what he might do.
Four days from the time of writing meant the auction was tomorrow.  It was also
a day of sacred festival for the temple of Ur-Laggu the Embracer. That was a
strange day indeed to hold an auction! Still, it was good timing for him, as he
had not yet concluded his thirty days with Enlil, and such a festival day was
the only sort of time he would have off from training.

Then again, he reflected, anything he was going to do
would have to happen tonight. At that thought, he moved immediately into
motion. He took his sword, and concealed it at his back under his cloak in the
special scabbard he’d had made. He gathered a few cloth sacks to carry anything
he might want to collect, stuffed them in a leather bag, and added flint, a
small vial of oil, and a kit of things such as Inina sometimes used, including
small tools, a flexible strip of copper and a tiny easily concealed lamp.

Inina! He was to supposed to see her tonight, and he
would, but then he’d let her know he had other business. She wouldn’t like it,
and he’d miss her, but he must act now.

Arjun shouldered his bag, his responsibilities, and
his regrets, and walked out of the House of Red into the warm night air.

~

Inina was loitering about on the block in front of her
seedy apartment building. Arjun saw she was dressed practically for a night of
wandering and stealth, in a plain short belted kilt and banded top of neutral
colors. She had a dagger at her waist, a bag slung over her shoulder and a
cloak covering her back. She noticed him as he approached, and her eyes lit
happily.

Arjun walked to her, and gave her a hug. He felt her
shiver, and he felt his own repressed feelings surging. He forced them back
down and gave her his best effort at a nonchalant smile.

“How are you this night, Inina?”

“I’m much better, now. How are you? You look tense.”

“I have dangerous business tonight.”

“You’re safe with me!” she replied playfully.

“No, I have business of my own.”

She made a worried frown, pulled him close, and spoke
to his ear in a quiet voice, “What are you up to, Arjun?”

As he fought to master himself, his voice became cold,
“They are auctioning the goods of my household tomorrow, and I have learned
where they are kept. Tonight I intend to interfere with the profitability of
that auction.”

“Interfere with…?” she replied, “Arjun! That is a
complicated way of saying you plan to sneak in there and steal things! You
might be overestimating how much you’re picking up in your training from me.”

“It will not be stealing to take back my own things!”
he said harshly, then softened and added, “You yourself said I was learning
very fast, and regardless, it is what I will now do.”

“I… yes Arjun, you are learning fast, but you aren’t
doing this without me!”

“No.”

“Please, I can’t let you do this alone, I…” and she
hesitated, as they both noticed how closely they were now holding each other.

Arjun’s heart, however much he wanted to encase it in
bronze, leapt instead with fire! He sighed, and looked into her eyes. His hands
lowered to her waist, and his voice warmed.

“Inina, I promised Lurshiga I wouldn’t bring you to
danger.”

“You won’t be bringing me to danger, I will!” she
replied with fire in her eyes. She put her hands on his, and then ran them up
his arms to his shoulders.

Arjun marshaled his will, let go of her, and stepped
back. He had to clear his mind! But, still he relented, “All right,” he said
with a heavy, cracking voice, “come with me, but we’ve got to go now!”

As he pulled out of her arms, her face was a study in
misery. Then she calmed herself, and followed him. He didn’t look back, and
didn’t see the tears she wiped from her eyes. Neither she nor anyone could see
the coiled flames of emotion in his heart.

There was no reason to keep to back streets until they
got nearer the warehouse district south of the great bazaar, and there would be
less chance for trouble on the main roads. They took the Street of Vipers until
it split at its eastern end, then the south fork until it merged with the
King’s Road to the plaza. From the plaza they kept again to the King’s Road as
it cut east across the heart of the bazaar, until it crossed the Caravan Road
between the citadel and the harbor. Then they went south along the Caravan Road
to the edge of the bazaar. From there, they ducked into smaller streets.

Arjun knew this area, but Inina did not. She touched
his shoulder and spoke.

“What sort of problems can find us here?”

He replied, “It is adequately, though not frequently
patrolled. I think we might hope to avoid trouble from either gangs or guards,
if luck is with us.”

“Let’s hope it is,” she said, “where is this place?”

“Just down two blocks more, along the left, but the
way we want to enter is through a little door in the back, along an alley. When
last I saw that door, it was more than a year ago while my father and I had
business with Bal-Shim. I wasn’t paying particularly close attention, but it
didn’t look all that strong. On the other hand, Bal-Shim may have guards
around.”

As they turned down the unlit side street, and the
even darker alley, Inina drew her dagger, black in the inky night. Arjun drew
his sword, but kept it under his cloak. It was quiet, and no one was nearby.
Something, probably a cat, scurried off in a hurry at their approach.

Their eyes adjusted to the darkness, and by the light
of the moons, they were able to see a recessed doorway with garbage strewn
about it on either side. The walls of the warehouse, and the others built flush
with it, loomed black overhead against the pale stars.

Arjun looked down at the base of the door. He could
see no light, which held up hope there might be no guards on duty. The door was
made so that the hinges were on the other side, and thus they had no way to
remove them. He pulled out the flexible strip of copper from his bag, but Inina
was quicker. She whispered to him.

“I’m still a lot better than you at this particular
kind of thing, let me try.”

“All right,” he whispered back, his lips at her ear.

She unwound her own strip of copper from between the
two leather layers of her belt, and wrapped one end in the cloth of her cloak.
She held it by that end as she slipped the other expertly in the thin crack
between the door and the wall, felt it contact the underside of the bar, and
lifted. It was not particularly heavy, and rose without much work on her part,
then slipped and fell with a clunk on the other side.

They both froze, weapons ready, waiting for noise from
inside, or motion at either end of the alley. There was none.

Arjun carefully pushed the door open, sliding the
fallen bar along with it, but so slowly it made little noise. He stepped inside
with raised sword. It was dark and no one seemed to be around. Inina silently
closed the door behind them and replaced the bar.

They were plunged into blackness. Arjun had unpleasant
memories of the sewers. Behind him, Inina lit one of her tiny lamps, and dim
light illuminated a corner of the big warehouse. Goods were piled in rows, with
ragged aisles in between. Here and there were shelves or tables where smaller
items were stacked.

There were inlayed wooden chests, painted urns,
stacked amphorae, and carpets in rolls. Beautiful glazed tiles of many colors,
pried from the floors of his house, were now tossed carelessly in heaps. On one
shelf were piles of rich clothing. Everywhere were items of bronze; dishes,
boxes, jewelry and weapons.

Inina sucked in her breath with a quiet whistle.

“Is all of this yours, I mean yours and your fathers?”

“Yes, most of it, though there are a few items here I
don’t recognize, they might be Bal-Shim’s or maybe things he robbed from
someone else.”

“You really are rich.”

“No, I was rich. We have no way to take back even a
small part of this, and even if we did, nowhere to put it. It would be easy to
trace back if, say, we tried to sell much of it through your network of
friends.”

“Probably, there is a lot of it,” she replied, “but
what DO you plan to do?”

“I’m going to take what I think I can carry and
conceal, and burn the rest.”

“Burn… the whole warehouse?”

“Rather than see Bal-Shim profit even further from his
theft, yes.”

“This is your whole life here, everything you grew up
with.”

“No, my life is in those I love, whether they are
still in the land of the living or now in the land of the dead, in what I
learn, and in the values by which I live it. These here are merely things.”

“I’ve lived all my life wishing for such things,” she
said with sad resignation.

“Someday you will have them, Inina, if I can make it
so,” he said.

She looked at him in the dim light with a soft
expression. He realized the possible implications of what he’d said, and was
unsure of how many he’d meant. He turned to business.

“If you would, look for a large cedar chest with
bronze fittings in the design of suns and eagles. It was mine, and there may be
something they missed within.”

After a brief search, they found it. Arjun opened it,
and saw that as expected, its contents had been taken and either sorted with
like items or pilfered. But there was no sign of the false bottom being
disturbed. The box was built to sit on low legs that kept both the true and
false bottoms above the floor, making it harder to tell that there were two.