The Eyes of a Doll (The World of Shijuren Book 2) (18 page)

Sebastijan and I sat drinking wine in the Westering Winds. I was still sore, especially where I had been wounded, so I stretched along a bench with my back to a wall.

“You’re confident your mother’s cousin can arrange for the armrings?”

I rolled my head along the wall to face Sebastijan’s grin. “If anyone can. He’s a Svellheimer like Ragnar, but he turned from raiding to trading decades ago.”

“What are you going to do with all that money?”

“I’ll tell you when it’s in my pockets. Ylli could stop all of this if we irritate him, and I can’t help but worry about Honker.”

“Nothing happened in the two days after we left.”

I lifted my head from the wall and stared at him.

“Radovan will send a courier if something happens.”

“He will?”

“I gave him instructions.”

“What if the courier is ambushed?”

“That seems unlikely, as no courier would look like the two of us.”

Another unpleasant thought occurred to me. “What happened to the ambushers?”

“I’ve been thinking about them too. We probably should have prepared for them this morning, though I calculated they could not have arrived in Lezh until tonight as the earliest.”

“Calculated?”

“The Bujerruge is half a day shorter than Crownstreet. Also, they were waiting for us down the road, and Katarina told us that no one reacted in anger at our turn, so they would have waited at least a day before giving up their ambush. Probably two.”

“Makes sense.”

“We were lucky today, though, because if they had a watcher at the gate, it could have been as short as a day to go out and come back with the rest of the ambushers this morning.”

I sipped my wine and grimaced.

“You think they’re in Lezh and will attack us?”

“I don’t know.”

“But it’s best to be prepared. I’ll wear my armor tomorrow.”

“You might mention it to Dardan, too.”

“An escort?”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

I nodded. Veteran wisdom is veteran wisdom. “But we don’t want them with us at Timoshenko’s.”

“I suspect that Dardan can arrange a subtle escort. He’s a conniving Dassaretae after all.”

“Probably so.”

I waved Dardan over and explained what we needed.

“I can do that.” He refilled our cups with his ever-present wine jug.

“You won’t see a thing, unless of course you’re needing my lads and lasses. And I’ll make sure my people are paying attention while you’re under the Westie’s roof.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank Vukasin.”

“I will.”

He left and wove his way through customers, stopping briefly to refill wine or grab plates and cups.

An hour later he returned, gesturing with the wine jug at a gawky teenager by the door. The teenager’s eyes focused oddly, his hands curled naturally almost like claws, and he had blond, lanky unkempt tendrils of hair that flashed oddly in the tavern lights.

“That lad’s here for you.”

“Bet Timoshenko sent his boy as the courier.”

“Send him over.”

Fatigue hid whatever nervousness he might have had at talking to us. When he got close, I realized he was covered in metal dust, causing the odd reflections.

“My father told me to tell you to come at midday. Those you wish to meet will be there then.”

“Thank you.”

Without pause, barely acknowledging my thanks, he turned away and headed out the door.

Sebastijan raised an eyebrow at me. “Quite the talker.”

“He said enough, and frankly I’m too tired to require any great conversation tonight. I think it’s time for sleep. I’ll need my wits about me in the morning.”

“That you will, Sevener. That you will.”

We walked to Timoshenko’s shop with the sun hovering over us like a falcon waiting for her prey. Quite possibly the hottest day I had ever endured, and my armor’s scales shimmered viciously. My tunic, soaked with sweat, stuck and chafed as the linen grabbed at me.

The harshest Periaslavlan winter days beckoned in my dreams as a paradise.

When we arrived, a large number of armed men awaited us. I tried to casually lay my hand upon my sword’s hilt, but their leader noticed and tensed in return.

“Careful, Edward,” muttered Sebastijan.

I nodded slowly, and while I did not relax, I moved my hand away from my hilt.

“You’re the Sevener that Timoshenko’s negotiating with?”

I nodded again.

Though he had lost most of his hair, the leader of the troop before Timoshenko’s shop clearly had not lost his skills. He moved easily in his hauberk of riveted links, seemingly oblivious to the heat. His hands held his spear as mine would have, and no rust dotted any of his gear.

While his troops were neither so well-arrayed nor so well-kept as he was, they all looked to have felt their blades slide out of a collapsing body a time or two.

“We’re to escort you to those you wished to speak with.”

“Good.”

“We’ll be at your back should either of you draw your blades when you shouldn’t.”

“I guessed you would be.”

“Then I guess you won’t be stupid.”

“Any stupider than standing in this sun in armor? No, I guess I won’t be either.”

With a light smile, he motioned and four of his men took the lead. We marched through Lezh, ultimately climbing the hill to the north, overlooking the main city.

The houses here reminded me of those near to the Gropa Mansion. All large, all built of gleaming marble or granite, all arrogantly expecting everyone who saw them to admire their beauty.

The troop led us to one that, while no less lovely, eschewed materials besides limestone. As we approached, I realized that architectural decision was purely tactical. I would not want to assault this mansion without siege machines whose existence I had only seen in Bedarth’s many books.

The foyer of the mansion seemed as luxurious as any of its owner’s neighbors would expect, with shining mosaics on its walls, floor, and ceiling. A pleasant scent I did not recognize caressed the room lightly.

However, our troop led us through a small door immediately to the right instead of further into the mansion, where marble floors, elegant statues, and bright floral arrangements awaited guests worthy of such opulence. Sebastijan and I clearly did not qualify.

The room we entered contained none of that splendor. A plain, sturdy table of oak stretched down the middle of the room. The chairs around it were also plain and sturdy. The walls held intricate tapestries woven in strange yet attractive geometric designs. The tapestries seemed odd decorations in such a utilitarian room.

Two women and two men sat at one end of the table on the left side. With no wasted motion, our escort’s leader directed us to chairs opposite them.

One of the women, tall with short-cropped hair and eyes greener than the Bardheküülle’s lawn, stared at us calmly.

“My name is Era.”

“I am Edward, son of Aethelred.”

She stared at me for a long moment before continuing. “Timoshenko says you offer a contract that will benefit all of us. He says, however, that you will only fulfill this contract if you speak to us.”

I nodded.

“We do not know you. We do not know why you wish to complicate what should be a simple business agreement. Such complications make us suspicious. Explain to us why we should not deal with you as our suspicions suggest we should.”

“I come from Middlemarch in the Seven Kingdoms. In truth, I had intended to pass through this land and already be at the Great City, but circumstances have intruded. During these circumstances, I retained Sebastijan’s services. He told me that the armrings that I earned from my lords would be valuable here as exotic jewelry. My mother’s cousin, Steinarr, is an experienced trader and can arrange shipping them here.”

“We know this. This would be simple business arrangement beneficial to all. You have explained not why you wish to speak to us.”

“It’s related to those intruding circumstances I mentioned. I have run afoul to some degree with a particular person, and I wish to ensure he does not profit.”

“Who do you wish to remove from the arrangement?”

“Gibroz. I am told that he controls all shipping across the lakes to Anzhedonev and the far east.”

“Hmmm.”

“I am told that you might have ways around the lake trade and therefore could ship my armrings without any of the money going to Gibroz.”

“What has he done to anger you so greatly that you risk our suspicions by cutting him out?”

“His thugs attacked me in the street two months ago, for one thing. Rather than bore you with a list of the other reasons, let’s just say I’m tired of his fuckin’ language.”

The other three briefly smiled at that. Era did not.

“You think we would risk conflict with Gibroz over such a small amount as your armrings would mean to us?”

“Yes. If you are affiliated with who I believe you to be.”

“Who do you think I am affiliated with?”

“I believe you are one of Ylli’s lieutenants.”

I had forgotten the armsmen standing at my back until I felt a sudden stillness behind me.

“Indeed?”

“Yes, I am told that Ylli and Gibroz routinely compete for every scrap they can glean from the shipping routes that go through Lezh and Achrida.”

“Who has told you this?”

“Vukasin Mrnjavcevic.”

“Vukasin? The zupan?”

“Yes.”

“Why would he help you?”

“I did him a favor recently.”

“What favor?”

“Who would you rather contest with, Pal or Vesela Gropa?”

She looked at me quietly. Her subordinates nodded slowly.

“So. You have a powerful patron.”

I shrugged. “A powerful friend, yes, but not, I think, a patron. And a new friend at that.”

“He provided you with much information, apparently.”

“Yes, but it is not his wagons and ships that my rings will travel upon.”

“True.”

“And so I am here.”

“Yes.”

“You have heard my terms. I need proof, absolute proof, that my armrings are shipped past Achrida with no tribute to Gibroz, or I shall withdraw from this arrangement.”

“And if we insist?”

“How alert are your men?”

She cocked her head at me.

“Ask our escort.”

Without turning her head, she said, “Hristo?”

The balding leader of Ylli’s men replied. “We were followed here by trained men.”

“Dassaretae escorting us from the Westering Winds.”

She nodded, accepting the information. “They cannot protect you here.”

“No, they cannot. However, they can make our wergild a heavy price to pay.”

“Wergild?”

“Money paid as compensation from an unjust death.”

She nodded again.

A long moment stretched out.

“Wait here.”

We nodded as the four rose from the table and filed out of the room.

I turned to Hristo with a smile. “I hoped you’d seen them, because I did not.”

He snorted, and Sebastijan shook his head. “You’re not my least exciting employer, Sevener, I’ll give you that.”

We waited in silence for at least an hour before Era returned with a bejeweled, mincing man with perfectly arranged hair. Hristo and the other armsmen stiffened when they saw him. Their focus upon us doubled.

He pranced over and sat before me, with Era at his right in front of Sebastijan. He smelled of roses, and up close his face was impossibly symmetrical. Bedarth had once told me some zokurioi specialized in re-shaping people’s bodies. I had scoffed at the idea of such vanity, but I suspected an example of that art sat before me. No doubt he could afford to pay for any magic.

“I am Ylli,” he said in a sweet soprano.

“I guessed that, the way Hristo and his troop reacted at your entrance.”

“He has been such a favorite for some time now.”

“I don’t blame you. I’d rather not cross blades with him.”

“That’s wise of you.” He smirked.

“Thank you.”

“But such a wise choice makes me wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

“Why you are so unwise to come here with such an implausible story.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I have no doubt that Vukasin knows more about my dealings in Achrida than I do. He probably knows to the last brass dinar who is cheating me and who is cheating Gibroz.”

I nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I am but a silly bird, but given how much he knows, I wonder why he would say such awful things about me.”

“Awful things?”

“Oh, my, yes. He should know I would not cheat Gibroz out of his share of the landward trade. That debate would get so messy, and I like things to remain clean.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yes. And so I again wonder why you would come here with such a story, knowing that I will have to employ Hristo here to eliminate you. With no mess, of course.”

“Of course.” I sat back and thought.
Look and look again
. I studied both Era and Ylli for a moment.

“Time that is wasted is also messy, in my mind, so please answer.”

I chuckled. “You won’t kill us right now.”

Sebastijan started shaking his head. “You’re a madman.”

“That might be true, but something isn’t right. None of this adds up.”

Now Ylli leaned back.

“I agree something is not right. And that something will be very much less right for you should you not explain.”

“Era’s right. I
am
complicating a simple business agreement. However, the complication would have made little difference to you in terms of risk but given you a reason to charge a greater percentage and make more money.”

“Go on.”

“So you’re either bluffing us or you’re telling us the truth. In either case what you want is more information.”

“Sevener,” hissed Sebastijan.

“He knows I lied. Or rather Era does.”

Sebastijan sighed.

“She’s talented in some way,” I added, looking at the odd designs in the tapestries again.

“It’s subtle, but I’d guess she a symkurios, a Line magician, and those tapestries help her focus her power.”

“Excellent guess, Sevener. Of course, that deduction makes me more likely to ask Hristo to continue his task.”

“Fortunately, since my lies were woven within a cloak of truth, you don’t quite know what is what. Except, of course, that you know Vukasin is willing to help me and the Dassaretae will be a nuisance when you kill us. This is why we’re still alive.”

“Of course, but there’s a limit to my patience.”

“I would ask which is true. Bluffing or speaking honestly?”

A sly smile slid across Ylli’s face. “And why would that matter, since I’m going to kill you anyway?”

“Because what I have to tell you differs depending upon your answer. If you’re bluffing I’ll ask for a small favor that will help you limit a potential mess. If you’re telling the truth, then I’ll tell you of a threat you don’t even know of.”

“What a fascinating answer.”

Ylli looked at Era, who slowly nodded.

“Very well. As it happens, I was telling the truth. We are currently paying Gibroz his agreed cut of the land trade east and west.”

“On the Kopayalitsa?”

He nodded.

“Then, Ylli, you have a problem. And so does Gibroz.”

“Explain, please.”

“One of Gibroz’s men was recently killed by men with a Lezhan accent investigating your caravans.”

“Yes?”

“He was investigating those caravans because Gibroz is not receiving what he thinks is the agreed amount. He thinks you’re cheating him.”

He checked with Era, who again nodded.

“Interesting.”

“Now, I don’t have Era’s skills, but I think you’re telling me the truth. I also think Gibroz was telling me the truth. And if I’m right...”

“If you’re right, then someone is working against both of us. I hate messes.”

I nodded.

“Tell me everything.”

“That will take time, Ylli.”

He motioned. One of his guards left the room, returning after a moment.