Bloodfeud (The Scarlet Star Trilogy Book 3) (17 page)

Gunderton nodded. ‘You’re a wise woman, Lady Hark.’

Lilain saluted with her pasty.

‘Well then, perhaps you can show us after we’ve eaten,’ Merion suggested, still suspicious. ‘And you can tell us the whole story of how you came to be here.’

‘Fair enough,’ Gunderton replied.

Lurker stirred. ‘Remember what Chief Mayut said about truths, Merion, all them weeks ago? How you can come to regret them.’

Merion nodded. The prospector was right, but now the young Hark was living by a new code, one that had no time for regret. A step towards foolhardiness, perhaps, but if this butler’s arrival had anything to do with the secret study beneath Harker Sheer, and could offer more understanding of his father, he had to know. Thoughts of that lair had plagued him every night since he’d discovered it. That was the way of known secrets: they clung to you, taunting you with the time they had spent eluding you. At the very least, this Mr Gunderton was a distraction from the matters at hand.

His aunt and Lilain seemed to agree. In silence, filled only with munching and the crackling of paper bags, they finished their pasties and, one by one, filtered from the forgotten loft and out onto the broken ladder, hidden behind a wall. Merion was the last to leave, grumbling as he did so. He thought he’d found a good hiding place. There is power in small things. They are easier to miss.

Gunderton led them back towards the airship towers and down to the lower streets, carved out of the tall stone walls of the riverbanks. Fishermen crowded the stone railings, casting their spindly poles back and forth, luring in their catch. It looked like a fine day for fishing.

The strange butler walked them for a good half hour before they came to a small, horseshoe-shape alleyway, carved deep into the earth to make room for more shops. Gaslights burnt there even in the day. Gunderton waved them along it, and took them to a house on the inside of the loop, built into the semicircle of earth. He lifted a key from around his neck and jiggled it in the lock. It didn’t look like an ordinary key; more like a ridged cylinder than a stick and some teeth. There was a whisper as a bolt slid back and the door popped open.

‘I’m getting more suspicious by the minute, Mr Gunderton,’ said Merion.

‘I don’t blame you.’ Gunderton led them into the darkness. It took a moment to find a match and light the lanterns. Gradually, the room began to fill with a yellow glow; and what an odd room it was, shaped like the canyon left in a cake after cutting a thick slice. The walls narrowed to a point at the back of the room, which housed a water closet. A few sticks of furniture stood about; a scarred mahogany desk and a patchwork leather chair or three. A mat and a sleeping bag sat in a corner of its own, near a black kettle and makeshift cooking fire.

Merion raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, this is delightful.’

Gunderton flashed him a dry look. ‘At least you can stand up in it.’

‘Touché.’

Merion thumbed his chin before taking a seat in one of the empty chairs. Might as well make himself comfortable whilst he waited. Lilain and Lurker joined him while Gunderton tended to the kettle. It was his turn on the hospitality front. Nothing in the Empire ever got done without a cup of tea close at hand.

‘Well then, Nephew,’ began Lilain. ‘Why don’t you tell us why we’re not welcome?’

‘I know you’ve come to help,’ said Merion. He knew he had to be cruel to be kind. ‘But who says I need it?’

Lilain cradled her chin in her hand. ‘Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. It depends on what you’ve got in mind, doesn’t it? This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve come up with a madcap plan. And it wouldn’t be the first time one of your plans has fallen flat on its ass either, would it?’

Merion didn’t need his failures painted for him. He knew them well enough.

‘All you need to know is that my plan involves the utter and complete downfall of Lord Bremar Dizali. Madcap enough for you, Aunt?’

Lilain stared at him for a long time before blinking. ‘Where’s Calidae in all of this? Lincoln said you left with her, which confused me no end.’

Lurker piped up. ‘Did you kill—?’

‘No, I didn’t. Although I did think about it. She has promised to end me, once all this is over, and I still believe her mind is set on it. She’s with Dizali as we speak. She’s playing her part from the inside.’

‘And you trust her?’ Lilain’s voice was becoming shrill.

‘I trust her to do her job,’ Merion answered, crossing his arms.

‘Which is?’

‘Finding certain things out for me, while she keeps an eye on Dizali. Worming her way into the Order. Biding her time.’

Lilain sighed. ‘Biding her time for what, Nephew?’

‘Until such time as we can rescue Witchazel.’

‘Why are you holdin’ back, boy?’ Lurker rumbled, getting fiercer.

Merion screwed up his face, wondering how to wriggle out of this conversation. He wanted to turn back to the distraction that was Mr Gunderton. ‘Because you’re not supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be in Washingtown, safe and sound. Out of the way. Uninvolved.’ An apology lingered on the tip of his tongue, but he kept it in.

His aunt scoffed, looking him dead in the eye.

‘We’re already firmly up to our necks. You weren’t the only one on the Serpeds’ boat that night in Fell Falls. Nor did you fight that railwraith all by yourself. Nor were you alone on the night of the Bloodmoon, if I remember right, when everythin’ changed. We’ve bled together more times than I care to count, so don’t you give me that darned bullsnatch.’

‘Still,’ said Merion. ‘The less you know, the better. Calidae and I have it all under control.’

Lurker scoffed as he fetched a chipped cup from the dusty counter. He reached for his flask and poured himself a liberal splash. ‘And how’s that goin’?’

Merion thought of the empty desk drawer in Slickharbour Spit, and the frown on Miss Ferrit’s face, barely two hours ago. His expression told his aunt everything she needed to know.

Lilain slapped her knees and rocked back her chair. ‘Tonmerion Harlequin Hark, if you weren’t your father’s son, I’d probably be walkin’ out that door and leaving you with my handprint on your cheek. But seein’ as you and I have the same blood flowing through our veins, and the same desert dust on our boots, I know the measure of your ways, your thoughts. So let me tell you this, Nephew. I ain’t travelled three thousand miles to be snubbed and sent packin’. Maker knows you need us now, as you always have. If you ain’t figured that out yet, then you ain’t brave and clever. You’re a mad and stubborn fool.’

Merion ground his teeth. He heard the firmness in his aunt’s voice and knew it too well to dismiss. To ignore the need for change was one of humankind’s most dangerous flaws, his father had said, and here change was, sat two feet away from him.

‘I must say, you make a compelling argument. Perhaps I could find some use for you.’

Lilain snorted. ‘We’re in or we’re out, Merion. We ain’t here to fetch you tea and summon up blood. We came to help, and we’ll help.’

The prospector nodded, raising his cup, which had received another glug of whisky.

‘Never worked by half measures before. Ain’t about to start now.’

‘Fine,’ Merion relented, finding a smile creeping onto his face.

Lilain and Lurker shared a look. The prospector hummed a low note.

‘Third time lucky it’ll have to be.’

His aunt rolled her eyes. ‘By the Maker’s backside, I hope you’re right, John Hobble.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll have you know that this plan will work.’ Merion looked over at Gunderton, who had just brought the kettle to boil. He pounced on the option of changing the subject.

‘So then, Mr Gunderton, about you? How does my father’s old under-butler come to be sitting here at this very moment?’

The man cleaned the grime from two cups before he answered. No tea for him, apparently. He spoke as he stirred.

‘You always have been so precocious.’ He rifled around in his beard for a moment. ‘I always knew you’d follow in your father’s footsteps, no matter how hard he tried to keep it from you. But trust me, like he did. You won’t like what I’ve got to say. Not from what I’ve heard.’

Merion leaned forwards in his chair. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

Gunderton plucked a twig out of his beard. ‘Tell me, did you really put Suffrous Gile and Arrid Gavisham in their graves?’

The boy was practically overflowing with suspicion.

‘Stories normally start at the beginning.’

Gunderton shrugged. Perhaps Merion had to give an answer to get one.

‘One out of the two. Calidae stabbed Gavisham to death with the leg of a stool. I’d almost beaten him, though.’ The little lie was necessary. Recent victories or not, that night made him sweat if his mind dwelt on it for too long.
Failure
. Its sour taste can never truly be washed away.

‘Impressive. It’s not very often you find somebody who’s a match for a Brother,’ said Gunderton.

Lilain shuffled around in her chair so she could watch the man talk. ‘I’m with Merion. Start explainin’,’ she ordered. Lurker placed the Mistress on his lap and tapped it with his finger.

Gunderton held his hands open and settled into a crouch, leaning against the wall.

‘Have you ever noticed their eyes? Green and blue?’

‘Of course.’

‘It’s to do with their lineage. They’re of an ancient bloodline, half-related to the royalty thanks to interbreeding. With every generation that ebbs and flows. There are always triplets born, sometimes identical, sometimes not, and they are always leeches, always male. It’s customary for them to be given to the Masters of the Gjörgetten Rift, a valley lost in the northern fjords of Svenska. There they become Brothers. Trained fighters, mercenary rushers sold to the highest bidder. And when I say highest, I mean the very peaks of society.’

‘Like Castor Serped,’ said Lilain.

Gunderton nodded. ‘Some have worked for Queens, Emerald Lords, even Prime Lords…’ He flashed a look at Merion. ‘Suffrous Gile and Arrid Gavisham were two of the three Brothers Seventh, bought by the Order of which Dizali is the head. They were the seventh generation of Brothers made by the Masters. Each generation’s surname is the next letter of the alphabet. In their case, a G.’

He paused to pick at something caught in his eye.

Realisation was slowly dawning for Merion. ‘Gile, Gavisham, and…’

‘Gunderton!’ said Lurker.

Chairs squealed as they were thrown backwards. Cups smashed and tea painted the floor. Lurker had the Mistress up in a flash, cocked and ready. Lilain was brandishing her fists. Merion dug in his pocket for a vial.

But Gunderton sprang no trap. He made no move besides holding up an empty hand. With his other he was pinching at his eyeballs, as if he’d been momentarily blinded. He was peeling something from his eyes.

‘Whatever are you up to? Explain yourself!’ Merion demanded, an uncorked vial hovering an inch from his lips.

‘Showing you the truth,’ said Gunderton, straightening up. He blinked owlishly. Merion took a step forward. No longer were the man’s eyes a dark brown, but a bright blue and a deep green. Two slivers of dark scale sat in his palm.

‘Give me the gun, Lurker.’

The prospector wasn’t convinced. ‘Merion, I know your history with guns—’

‘Give it,’ Merion repeated, sure as could be.

Lurker passed the Mistress to the boy. Merion pointed it straight at Gunderton’s heart. ‘All this time, you were betraying my father? Working behind his back? I should shoot you before you spit another lie!’

‘You really should hear the rest of the story before you start shooting,’ said Gunderton. His face showed no trace of fear, even with a gun hovering inches from his nose. ‘And when you’ve heard me out, you can make your decision.’

‘Talk quickly.’

‘What they never tell you about Brothers is that they must never stop learning. Beat that into a boy of four enough times and he’ll remember it for life. And believe me, Brothers live a very long life. Longer than their employers in fact. They are part leech, part lamprey, and the best of both. Hybrids.’

‘That’s heresy to both kinds…’ said Lilain.

‘That it is, and it is why they always work for lampreys. But Karrigan Hark, well, he didn’t care. He knew what I was, and bought me anyway.’

Merion wore a face of disgust. ‘Why would my father dirty our house with a lamprey?’

‘He wanted to change me, to put me to good use. Believe it or not, Brothers have done great things over the years. Gile and Gavisham even managed to help win the battle of Rafalgar for the Empire. But we know more of lamprey Orders than we do of leeches like your father, Tonmerion. We know more of assassinations and murder than we do of justice and human rights. A Brother doesn’t usually find an employer so morally minded, or one who’s more powerful than him, for that matter. Normally, we’re the heavies.’

‘Then what use did my father have for you?’

‘There are some hands that should never be caught dirty, Merion. Your father’s, for example. I did the work that he could not. An empire like his can never be built entirely on truth and kind words. Karrigan bent the rules like everybody else—’

‘Careful, Mr Gunderton.’ Merion took a step towards him.

‘—but he bent them in the opposite direction. “Never kill a soul,” he said, “unless they try to harm my son, you, or I.” Always putting you first, that man. That was his standing order. I’d do my job alright. I’d intimidate the wrong sort of people. Tell lies, break ribs, anything Karrigan told me. But with him, they always had to deserve it. Immoral factory workers. Illegal boxing rings. Smuggler bands. The corrupt and the cruel. Together Karrigan and I waged a secret war against this city’s criminals. Then our work turned to taking down the real leeches. For a while, we made a difference.’

Lilain put away her fists. Lurker relaxed. Only Merion still challenged him.

‘And all the while you’d loiter around Harker Sheer, pretending to do menial work between losing me in the bushes day after day? If I remember, you were awful at hide and seek.’

‘You really think I would let Karrigan’s son lose?’ Gunderton countered. ‘Wouldn’t hear the end of it.’