The Eyes of a Doll (The World of Shijuren Book 2) (3 page)

When I returned things seemed as I had left them, with the exception that the dead man’s horse had disappeared. I had no idea if someone had released him or if he had trotted off on his own.

I rode into the meadow, slid off of Deor, and told him to let me know when anyone arrived. He snorted as if insulted. I stroked his nose in apology and even let him land a playful nip.

The attacker I had killed remained facedown, sprawled upon his shield with his sword arm out at wide, odd angle. I left him for the moment.

I pushed into the trees and saw the flash of white where I expected it. I left the doll there so that I could find the spot quickly again. Besides, Zvono hated people touching things around her murder victims.

I returned to the meadow and searched the man I had killed. He had a few silver and copper dinars that seemed no different than those I kept with me. His clothes were the same as many wore in Achrida. They merely told me their wearer was a messy eater, as soup and grease stains festooned his tunic.

I roamed around the lea, looking for anything out of the ordinary, stopping only when Deor whinnied an arrival. Most of those arrivals came to get water or bask on the grass. They all left hurriedly once they saw the dead body.

Finding nothing new, I called Deor over and waited while he ate the occasional mouthful of grass. The sun hovered above Achrida before Kapric and Zvono arrived with a number of others riding mules.

The Emperor entrusted the investigation and prevention of crime in his Empire to the men and women known as quaesitors. I had come to discover that most quaesitors in Achrida held to one tribe or another, allowing tribal politics to shade their investigations. Worse, tribal politics came a distant second to any available bribes.

Though Tagmatarch Kapric came from the Enchelei and Kentarch Zvono from the Dassaretae, these two had chosen their profession over the omnipresent corruption. That explained why they investigated murders and not thefts, embezzlings, or other common forms of business in the city. Most people actually wanted murders solved.

Kapric glared at me with blue eyes more pointed than any steel arrowhead. He navigated his broad body with smooth precision, as if a statue had come to life.

Next to him, with a less angry but no less cynical glare, was his partner Zvono. She seemed all angles, with sharp features and long, straight, thin limbs. Piri had told me that the wax tablet that she carried was a gift from her father. She used it to help focus one of the best memories I had ever seen.

Her grim smile held little humor as she flipped open her tablet to ask me questions.

“I thought you promised me no more paperwork, Sevener.”

“Would you prefer to be filling out paperwork about me?”

“At this point I’m not sure.”

“Well, this will probably help make up your mind. There’s another body in the trees.”

She shook her head and started concentrating. “Did you mess with the bodies?”

“Not the one in the trees. I didn’t want to mess too much with your sense of propriety.”

Zvono flashed me a quick smile while I continued, pointing at the body near us.

“I did, though, search him. I figured my emotions and sweat were already all over him, since it’s my blade that spilled his blood.”

“But not the other body?”

“Not even the doll I came here to find.”

“The doll?”

“Yeah, I came here because Honker Harald’s daughter lost her doll when he brought his family here for a picnic.”

“You came here for a doll?”

Kapric rarely smiled, but his face now held a beatific smile filled with cynical sarcasm. “Edward Dollseeker.”

“The Sevener of Dolls,” echoed Zvono’s laughter.

“That explains why you wore your sword. A mission this risky, I’m surprised you didn’t wear that fancy armor of yours.”

I sighed at Kapric. “My shield’s on Deor, just in case.”

They shook their heads, chuckling.

While we exchanged pleasantries, two men of their party had already busied themselves with the body in the field. Each focused his will periodically, talking little. I knew one followed the Life Stream of magic and the other flowed with the Love Stream. I had met them before but never asked which was which.

Life magic would tell a magician bits and pieces of the man’s life, though in this case it would probably just confirm that he had practiced weapons and brawling. Some traces of my life would also undoubtedly have spilled over on him during the fight. 

Love magic would tell us about his emotions and the way his mind thought. Again, I suspected all this would do is confirm that he thought like a criminal and a thug, and my anger would provide a sharp outer layer obscuring any of his less frequent emotions.

Only two magicians had come with Zvono and Kapric, as only those two Streams of Magic were likely to be relevant. Land magic could not describe much about people, as it focused on things that had never lived. Occasionally, it could speak to a gekurios about a place, but rarely. Lore magic relied on the magic of learning, knowledge, and the slow pace of time, none of which usually helped with murder investigations. People called the magic of symbols Line magic, and unless the man bore some symbols I had not seen, that stream would not help here either.

We joined the two men, and Kapric pointed at me. They slipped into the threads of life and emotion that came from me and compared those threads to the body.

“He’s the killer, Tagmatarch.”

Kapric nodded. “There’s another body in the trees, Miroslav. Our killer here will lead you to the doll marking the spot.”

“A doll?”

Why do officials in every culture enjoy snickering at the people around them?

“Yes, a doll. For the sake of the Monster’s Father, it’s not that funny.”

“We’re just envisioning you playing with dolls. You’d look so cute.”

I sighed. “Whatever you say, Zvono. Can we just get to work on the next body so I can get the damned doll and give it back to Honker’s daughter?”

They nodded with a few final snickers and pushed through the trees.

I noticed something I had missed before and held up a hand, halting all of them.

“Wait… the doll…”

“It’s very pretty, Sevener.”

“No, I’m serious, Zvono. Look at how it’s sitting.”

They turned, shifting their focus from a child’s doll to a murdered man’s burial site.

“The doll is placed, not dropped,” muttered Kapric.

“With a caring hand to help the body,” added Zvono. “The daughter saw the body. She wanted to help it. We’ll need to talk to her.”

I sighed. “Honker’s not going to like that, but you’re right.”

“Don’t worry, Sevener, we won’t laugh at her. She’s supposed to play with dolls.”

This time the chuckle stayed on the surface as all four of them focused their wills.

“There are many tendrils of fear and sadness around the body,” muttered the one Zvono had called Miroslav. “I would guess they probably came from the young lady. Those have the effect of obscuring other emotions, and I can’t see much else.”

The other magician followed Miroslav. “I don’t see much either. The life threads ended recently, probably yesterday, but I don’t see anything else. Once the body is exhumed, I might be able to tell you more, though I’m not optimistic.”

“Honker brought his family here yesterday for lunch.”

“Presumably, then, the murder happened in the morning and they buried him just before or as they picnicked.”

A sudden fear spiked in my mind. I pushed through the branches and raced for Deor, whistling to get his attention.

“Sevener!”

I jumped on Deor and turned back to Zvono who had followed me out. “Meet me at the Faerie when you can.”

Not listening for an answer, I turned Deor’s head. “All the speed you’ve got my friend. Every bit.”

I have had many great friends in my life, but none so great as Deor. He helped save my soul and served by me for years. This day he proved that friendship yet again.

We bullied our way through the gate, helped by Vojin’s quick understanding of my need. We pushed our way as fast as we could along the Trade Road and the Square of Legends, both clogged with their normal heavy traffic, and raced up Medusa’s Way and the Fourth Serpent to the Faerie.

I burst in.

“Ragnar, where’s Honker?”

“Well, I’ve not to be bein…”

“Bedamned with your accent, where is he?”

“His work, I suppose.”

“Go there. Take your sword. Bring him here. Would his daughter be home?”

“Probably.”

“Where do they live?”

“On the Fifth Serpent towards the end. Them as live there can show you exactly.”

I ran out, and Deor and I followed Ragnar’s directions, clattering into a small courtyard. I slid my hand into my shield’s boss as I slipped off of Deor. I then started pounding on doors.

“Where does Honker live?” I yelled.

Finally, a person poked his head out a second story window. “And who the hell are you?”

“I’m Edward, a Sevener staying at the Frank Faerie. I need to find Honker’s daughter, I think she’s in trouble.”

“And how the hell do we know you’re not the trouble?”

“You don’t. Make sure she’s safe and get all you can to guard her. Let me know she’s safe.”

I heard an argument in the window.

“Quickly, you suspicious damned Southerners. I’m but one man.”

Men, and not a few women, each with something solid in their hands, came into the courtyard, gathering in front of one door. That door finally creaked open, and small woman covered in flour peeked out.

“I found your daughter’s doll, but also something else. Is she safe in there?”

A second small face by her leg peeked out shyly, much to my relief.

“Excellent.” I finally took a full breath. “Now, I want to get you and your daughter to the Faerie. Ragnar is getting Honker. There I think we can protect you all best.”

She stared and nodded slowly.

“Is your son in there?”

She shook her head.

“Is he at work?”

She nodded.

“Any others?”

She nodded.

“Bring them, too.”

I turned and called to the crowd. “I need someone to get a message to Honker’s son as quickly as possible. He might be in danger and he needs to get to the Faerie.”

One of the men snapped a name I did not hear, and a boy about Eirik’s age went running off.

I turned to the rest of the people in the street.

“Can you all help me escort the rest of Honker’s family to the Faerie? You stay around them, and I’ll lead the way.”

They muttered with indecision but finally encircled Honker’s wife, the younger daughter, and a second, older, daughter I had not known he had.

We moved off slower than I hoped but fast enough.

When we arrived at the Faerie, I let them all enter before following them in. Ragnar and Honker had returned first.

“Where’s your son, Honker?”

“He’s a-comin’ with his forgemates.”

I sighed with relief. “Excellent, that should be safe enough to get here.”

I turned to Ragnar. “Give all of these people what they want. I’ll pay. Then come over and join us. Honker, bring your family over and sit at my table too, please.”

As the immediate surge of excitement, passed the neighbors settled in to mugs of Ragnar’s ale, lakewater, and wine.

Honker and his family sat with me at my table. Melia jumped on the table and made the rounds demanding petting from each member of Honker’s family. Her purring allowed us all to relax and catch our breath. Honker finally leaned forward.

“What’s to have happened, Master Edward?”

I held up a finger and turned to his daughter. “Hello, my name’s Edward, what’s yours?”

She turned her face shyly into her mother’s dress, getting flour on her cheek.

“I’m a friend of your father’s.”

Honker turned to her. “Aye, that he is, my little rose.”

“You don’t have as big of a nose as your da, do you?”

That prompted a small chuckle from Harald and his wife and snicker from the older daughter, who also displayed a nose of normal size. The younger daughter shook her head slowly, though her face held the hint of a small smile.

“Tell him your name, dear,” added her mother.

She lifted her face a little and whispered, “Ludmilja.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

She nodded shyly and turned back to her mother’s dress.

“Did you enjoy the picnic yesterday?”

She nodded and looked up to her father, who encouraged her to continue.

“Until Nadja left me,” she sniffled.