The Eyes of a Doll (The World of Shijuren Book 2) (26 page)

BOOK: The Eyes of a Doll (The World of Shijuren Book 2)
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“Of the Gropas?”

He nodded.

“Why would you be instructed to give her money?”

“I do not know. You might ask Gabrijela.”

She smiled at him, with a shake of the head to me. I turned back to Ognyan.

“Who instructs you?”

“Isidora tells me. How she gets the information, I do not know.”

“What happens to the money after you hand it off?”

“I do not know.”

“But you keep track of it.”

He smiled. “I keep track of when and where I have given it away. I keep three duplicate ledgers of all my transactions for Ylli and Gibroz. I do not want either to believe I am cheating him.”

I chuckled. “I wouldn’t want that either. Gibroz keeps telling me he’s going to toss me in the lake anyway.”

Ognyan smiled again. “Part of his charm, no doubt.”

I laughed again. “You don’t touch the money?”

“I count it when I receive it with the caravan masters. We log the amount. Then I count it again when I pass it on, joined by whoever receives it, and we log it at that point.”

I nodded. “That seems like a fairly secure system.”

“Yes, for all of us. Ylli and Gibroz have confirmation, while I have protection.”

We sat and thought about all of this for a moment. I stroked my beard. I may have hated it, but I now knew why bearded men always stroked their chins when they were thinking.

With nothing else to ask, I decided it was time to leave.

“Gabrijela and I are here to show you these.” I opened the satchel with the cotton samples.

He looked at them. “Yes, these are nice. And we have spent the past hour or so discussing costs and logistics.”

I nodded, smiled, and rose. Gabrijela rose with me.

“Nice talking business with you.”

He smiled back. “Yes. May we both prosper.”

 

Chapter 34
Afternoon, 1 Simmermoanne, 1712 MG

 

We walked out to a pleasant light rain.

“You know Isidora?”

Gabrijela chuckled. “Of course, one of Gibroz’s most useful relatives.”

“How is she related?”

“Some sort of distant aunt or cousin. I’m not sure. She’s quite mad.”

“And Gibroz trusts her with money?”

A broader laugh. “Oh, her madness has nothing to do with that. She’s also quite intelligent, I think, she’s just… well, you’ll find out.”

“How?”

“You’ll see.”

“We’re going to visit her?”

Gabrijela nodded.

“We had a plausible reason to visit Ognyan. Do we have a reason to visit Isidora?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll be where?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right beside you.”

“What do I need to find out from Isidora?”

“You need to confirm what Ognyan said. You need to find out who she passes the money to.”

“Don’t you already know that? Assuming Ognyan is not lying…”

“He isn’t.”

“Since Ognyan’s not lying, the problem is somewhere among Gibroz’s people.”

“Yes. And yes, it’s true I know how the system is supposed to work. However, we’re looking for problems in the system, gaps where it’s failing. If you ask them, and we compare those answers to what I expect to hear, then it’s possible we’ll find something out of place.”

“Makes sense. In that case, were Ognyan’s answers what you expected to hear?”

“In general, yes. Gibroz has used Isidora as a contact for as long as I have worked for him. Sava as well. I did not know that Markov occasionally took the payments directly, but I’m not surprised. It’s the kind of task that Gibroz has him do. I knew we sent money to Jeremena at times, but I wasn’t sure how. I’m a little surprised Ognyan pays money to her directly, though.”

“When the time comes, it might be best that you deal with Jeremena. She’s never liked me, and pointing out Pal’s activities did not make her any more fond of me.”

Gabrijela patted my arm with a chuckle. “Her loss, my dear.”

Such sparkling eyes. Eyes that I noticed without her magic influencing me this time. Fortunately, as a trained warrior I managed not to trip over anything large, like, say, a pebble, as we walked.

Our walk was not very long. We were aiming for a garishly painted building I had noticed before when walking through the Stracara…

“Edward! Watch out!”

Gabrijela’s warning gave me enough time to push her against a wall behind me, pull Jovanka’s longer dagger, and get set for six men striding around the garish building.

Any hopes that at least one of them might charge too rashly were doomed when they all stopped in relatively good order. They were armed with short swords significantly longer than my dagger, and, worse yet, they were clearly used to working as a team.

With Gabrijela behind me, I could not simply escape to one side, and frankly, in the brief moment I had to think, I could not discern a way out of this for either of us.

Then two things happened.

First, I felt Gabrijela doing something. I was not sure exactly what, but suddenly I felt frightened. Not so frightened that I could not act, but terrified nonetheless.

Apparently, I was not the only to feel that fear: all six of the men before me hesitated. The leftmost one cringed and fled. Another saw his flight and followed him.

Now their formation was ragged, and the other man to my left turned to curse at the two who ran. I took the chance and jumped at him, catching his sword hand with my left, and stabbing deeply into his body.

The squishing sound as I sheathed the dagger in his body ended any hesitation the other three might have had.

I had guessed that my jump would expose my right, and in desperation I used a trick Desimir had shown me. Rather than pull the dagger out, I let go of it and brought my right hand to the right side of the cutpurse’s neck. A quick step with my right leg and I had a fulcrum to pull him over, which conveniently covered my right side.

The dying man’s body deflected a sword thrust but unfortunately didn’t stop it. It skipped off of the body and along one of my ribs. Any of Gabrijela’s fear that remained was driven away by the pain.

I grabbed the dying man’s sword from his loosening fingers and swept it blindly but swiftly to my right. I twisted the blade vertical to block the thrust I knew would follow the one to my ribs.

I was rewarded with a solid clunk of colliding steel and a curse of frustration, and I turned to face the voice.

Radovan, I noted, was somehow there again. He had already driven his sword into the rightmost of our attackers and was proceeding to the next in line.

I took advantage of the slight distraction and thrust at the one before me. He jumped back slightly, with a wild but successful block.

The sword was too short for me to simply flip my wrist for an easy following shot. I had to get past the body to get to the man. Stepping over a body is not particularly difficult or dangerous, even if it is still writhing on the cobblestones, but the task becomes more challenging if you must not allow someone wielding a sword any openings while doing so.

Nevertheless, I had to step forward or he would have the chance to attack Gabrijela. Bravely, she had pulled her own dagger, but her grip suggested she had spent little time studying the art. Very little time.

I made the grisly first step onto the man’s hip and a quick hop over. Suddenly, I was face-to-face with my next opponent, a little closer than either of us wanted, but I had the advantage of knowing
when
I’d reach that point, and the shortest of thrusts allowed me to rake up his sword arm, forcing him to drop his blade and step back.

That gave me a view as Radovan flicked his sword across the sword of the last of the six, driving it far to the side. He took advantage by rolling his wrist into a perfect thrust straight into the man’s belly.

My opponent decided it was time to join his fleeing friends, and he ran away as I turned.

Then I heard a sound I shall never forget. Radovan screamed in agony.

I turned and realized not six, but eight people had attacked us, and they had set a trap for anyone who decided to join in the fight. Radovan stood there, blood streaming down his side as he viciously swept his sword into the throat of the man who had stabbed him. They both went down in a widening pool of blood.

That left one, and I wanted him dead quickly so I jumped at him, expecting to gain another cut but hoping it would be survivable. He thrust at me, and I twisted to avoid it as best I could. His blade ground along another rib just above the first cut.

I ignored this fresh pain as I stabbed deep into his chest. Had there been any other attackers, the strike would have been stupid as well as effective, for the blade lodged in his ribs. Yet effective it remained, and no other attackers threatened, at least for the moment.

I turned immediately to Radovan, tearing the remains of my tunic off of me. I stuck it into his wound.

“Gabrijela, get help.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know, just get help, dammit.”

She hesitated in her confusion and fatigue from her spell.

“Gabrijela, look at me.”

She did.

“I’ve already had someone die to save me in this damn city. I’m not letting it fucking happen again. If you don’t get help, I swear by the Judge of Princes I’ll burn this damn place down with you and Gibroz and everyone else in it!”

This time she heard me. She ran over to Isidora’s building, its gleaming red dulled by the crimson of the blood around me. Soon she reappeared, followed by an extraordinary-looking woman. A small lad followed, bursting up the street in a run, presumably to get help.

The other woman moved to look at Radovan’s wounds. Gabrijela forced me away so she could do the same for my ribs. She helped me to a wall so I could lean upon it. With another section of my ripped tunic, she staunched the flow. I held it in place with my right elbow until we could get a proper bandage.

The boy returned, gasping for breath. He made motions like others were coming.

“Send the boy to the Faerie. Get word to Piri, Kapric, and Zvono.”

“But your disguise!”

“Bedamned with the disguise, it hasn’t stopped us from getting attacked twice. I’m not doing this again without more help than Radovan can provide.”

Open-mouthed, she turned to the boy.

“You know where the Frank Faerie is?”

He nodded.

“Tell them the Sevener needs help. They’ll get people. Bring them here.”

“Make sure one of Sebastijan’s men comes too.”

“What?”

“Sebastijan’s other men besides Radovan are guarding the Faerie. One of them needs to be here too.”

She shrugged and looked at the boy. “Understand?”

He nodded.

“Then go.”

He ran off.

The street was unnaturally empty. It ran along the south part of the Stracara. About this point on the north edge of the Stracara Desimir had died in my arms.

Radovan had not yet died. He was mumbling in his pain, but we had managed to stop the blood. However, the thrust had surely gone into some organs, and if that did not kill him, the infection that normally resulted from such a thrust surely would.

After what seemed like hours, the first person to arrive on the street, a large figure I recognized, came up to us.

“You seem to need help.”

“I do, Anastasius, but I don’t know what you can do for us. I don’t have any questions that need answering right now. Well, I do, but I don’t have any that the Readers would answer.”

“I’ve no doubt you’re correct, but if you’ll let me next to Radovan I’ll see if I might just be able to do something after all.”

I raised my eyebrows, but I moved to allow him to kneel before Radovan. Anastasius was tall and broad and ought to have been clumsy, but he always moved with a grace strange for his bulk.

“Your Reader robe is getting bloody.”

“Not the first time,” he muttered.

I realized he was focusing his will. I stopped talking and held up a hand as Gabrijela started to speak as well.

Eventually, with a deep, shuddering gasp, Anastasius leaned back, stumbling as he rose. I looked up at him.

“That did not look like anything a Lore magician would do.”

“That’s because I’m not of the clikurioi.” He smiled shakily. “The Readers call all kurioi to the order. How can we perform our task without having at least some of each to instruct us?”

“You’re a liffrea?”

He nodded.

“And you helped Radovan.”

He nodded again. He must have been exhausted, for he made no other comment.

“He could still pass, but I have limited the blood flow and I think I have prevented the infection.”

“How did you do this?” In my relief I was honestly curious.

“What you call infection is but a collection of very small creatures attacking him, so small you cannot see them. It is hard to explain, but I have reduced their number to that which he would find normal.”

“Find normal?”

“How much do you want to know about how the body works, Sevener?” He smiled the Reader smile. The smile that hinted that he knew everything. The all-knowing smile that proved so irritating because he probably did know everything and if he did not, his brethren would surely have the answer.

I sighed. No matter how much I hated the smile, I appreciated his help with Radovan.

“How did you get here so quickly?”

“There’s a shortcut from the Library.”

“I meant, how did you know to get here?”

“A woman rushed into the Library saying someone needed help or they would die. I didn’t know it was you, precisely, only that someone needed my talents.”

“A woman? Who?”

“I stayed not to ask. I left immediately.”

“Thank you for coming. I’m very glad you’re here.”

“I know.”

I rolled my eyes to his laughter.

“Oh, by the way, Edward, you’ll be happy to know a delivery was made to the Library.”

“A delivery?”

“Yes, a small box with most interesting contents was left some days ago.”

I sighed in relief.

“I wondered. I worried she’d keep it.”

Anastasius nodded. “Your worry was well-founded, but she surprised us all.”

“And you recorded her deed.”

“Yes.”

“As she hoped.”

He nodded and glanced at the sun. “I must take my leave and return to my order. Others will surely come to help.”

“Thank you.”

He walked off, still somewhat wobbly after his exertion.

“You do know so many interesting people.”

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