The Heresy Within (16 page)

“What's the problem here?” A loud and commanding voice called from nearby, a guard by the looks of things with a hefty crew around him.

Thanquil plucked the purse from the girl's hand and pocketed it again as the rest of the crowd dispersed and was replaced by guardsmen in red doublets with metal breastplates and wooden cudgels. He let go of the girl's wrist and she shot him a terrified look. She was young, maybe twelve at most, and wearing rich clothing though more in the style of a boy. In the Five Kingdoms or Acanthia Thanquil might have taken her for a noble brat but here in Chade he knew there was no real nobility, just well-dressed thieves.

“Caught her stealing did ya?” the guard asked, a wicked grin on his face.

“I wonder what would happen to a thief here in Chade,” Thanquil mused aloud and waited for one of the guards to answer.

“Same as anywhere. Punishment.”

“Thieves is turned into slaves,” the young girl blurted out, her eyes lowered.

“Quiet!” the guard warned the girl. “The nice man weren't talking ta the likes of you.”

Thanquil almost groaned. He'd only just set foot off the boat and already he was condemning a girl to a lifetime of slavery. No doubt the story would spread and before long it would tell of an Arbiter sentencing a young innocent girl just a few feet from the boat he arrived on.

“A girl like you no doubt knows the way to the Inquisition safe house,” Thanquil said. “Somewhere near the craftsman terrace, near the guildhall.”

“Aye,” she answered in high voice, her words rushing out almost on top of each other. “I know the place. I can get ya there.”

“Well then,” Thanquil said with false cheer. “I'm sorry but there's been a mistake here. She wasn't thieving, but offering her services as a guide to your wonderful city. As new as I am here I'm tempted to take her up on the offer. Thank you for your time.”

The guard looked at the girl, then at Thanquil. His right hand plucked the cudgel from his belt. “Listen, friend. That's not how things work here. We seen her thieving.”

Thanquil was uncomfortably aware that a large group of people had stopped to watch the scene in the middle of the docks. The girl also looked uncomfortable, though that might have been because her life was hanging in the balance. The prospect of a lifetime of slavery would make Thanquil more than a little uncomfortable.

“Arbiter,” Thanquil corrected the guardsman. “My correct title is Arbiter. The coat is a dead give-away. See the buttons.”

“Don't mean a thing. You can be the damned Emperor as far as I care. Got no power here,” the guard said, taking a small step backwards.

Thanquil stepped forward towards the guard, the girl stayed close by. “Oh I have power wherever I am, believe me. As for authority, I have that too. The ruling council in Chade has granted an emissary of the Inquisition temporary authority within the free city and I just happen to be that emissary.”

“He's right,” said one of the other guardsmen. “Council did send fer an Arbiter. Fer her in gaol.”

“We'll be going now,” Thanquil told the guards, dismissing them. “Lead the way, girl.”

“Aye,” she squeaked and started walking, the guards moved aside to let them pass and Thanquil followed hoping he wasn't about to feel a sharp wooden smack to the back of his head. Seems he was in luck. With a loud grumble the guards moved back to their posts and the usual activity of the docks resumed. Noise and merchants rushing in to fill the empty space like a thunderclap.

Thanquil breathed out a sigh of relief. The girl kept glancing at him, probably wondering if she could get away with bolting. He had already decided he wasn't going to waste time chasing her.

“You really an Arbter?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Don't look like much.”

Thanquil shrugged. “Neither do you. Guards were keen on taking you in though.”

The girl spat into the street. “Guards get paid for every slave they take. Keeps 'em willin' ta do their jobs. They get extra fer young girls. I had a friend once who got took, she...”

“You best be leading me the right way, girl,” Thanquil interrupted. He'd heard more than enough '
old friend
' stories on the boat though most of those had ended in drowning, stabbing or being eaten by krakens and one had ended with an entire ship with all hands being dragged down to the depths by a leviathan.

“Course I am. I ain't no...”

“I'll give you a bronze coin if you can tell me anything about that woman they have in gaol.”

“You got more 'an bronze bits in that purse, I felt it.”

Thanquil didn't respond. He wasn't about to haggle with a girl who had just tried to rob him. Not after he'd just saved her from a fate worse than death.

“Word is she's dangerous. Guards caught her a while back. She killed four 'em, one with her bare hands. Ben said he saw her, said she had fire in her eyes an' burnt a guard alive jus' by lookin' at him. Crazed is what they call her, fights with swords, claws an' teeth an' the only reason they got her is 'cos she was drunk. Now they got her chained an' gagged down in gaol waitin' fer someone who knows about that sort of stuff. Which'ed be you right?”

Again Thanquil said nothing. The girl was watching him out of the corner of her eye, waiting for him to confirm. No doubt word of an Arbiter's arrival would spread through the city like wildfire soon enough. Information was, as ever, worth its weight in gold.

“Gimme my bronze bit.”

Thanquil reached into one of the many pockets of his coat and pulled out a small bronze coin. He twirled it in his fingers and the girl watched it with greedy eyes. “You get the coin when I get where I'm going, girl.”

Chade was not a small city and was split into four different quarters; the docks, the craftsman's terrace, Goldtown and Oldtown. The girl explained to Thanquil that on foot it could take near half a day to walk from one side to the other. Thanquil decided he was thankful the craftsman terrace was not all that far from the docks.

They passed all manner of shops, workhouses, warehouses, dwellings, inns and watchtowers. Guards were everywhere in abundance and all watched with a hungry eye. The girl claimed the city employed thousands of guards and Thanquil could well believe it. Slaves were in even greater abundance. Some were beaten, some were chained and all were collared and marked. The men had their owners brand seared into their left cheek while the women had it on their left hand.

Thanquil wasn't unaccustomed to seeing slaves, Sarth was built on the backs of those whose lives were owned by others, but he'd never seen folk treated so poorly before. They were dressed in rags and many went barefoot. Some were made to carry goods for their owners, some were carrying the owners themselves in huge ornate litters and all in the merciless afternoon sun. It struck Thanquil that most horses were treated better than the slaves here in Chade.

The girl didn't lie about knowing the way; she led Thanquil to his destination. The house was indeed in the craftsman's terrace and not twenty paces from the guildhall where all manner of folk were gathered in the hope of finding a day’s work.

The house bore the symbol of an Inquisition safe-house and so Thanquil tossed the girl her bronze coin and she was gone before he could even say his thanks. He climbed the steps with a sigh and knocked and waited. It was an unassuming house; small, built of stone but then most in the craftsman's terrace seemed to be, heavy wooden door, two windows that looked to be boarded from the inside. Thanquil knocked again and again waited. Still no answer.

“You one o' them Arbiters?” A voice came from behind. Thanquil turned to find a cloaked figure staring up at him with wary eyes. The man coughed into a bandaged hand.

“I'm wearing an Arbiter's coat,” Thanquil replied.

“Bit o' fancy leather don't make you nothin'. You want in there ya need ta prove ya an Arbiter.”

Thanquil ground his teeth together. He hated asking questions. “And who should I prove it to?”

“Me,” the man at the bottom of the steps said. Then he shivered and nodded at Thanquil. “It's been a while since I felt the compulsion; it's still just as unpleasant as ever. Sorry about the test, Arbiter. We've had people pretend to be members of the Inquisition in the past.” He stood up to his full height and threw back his cloak to reveal a suit of dark red silk beneath.

“I am Arbiter Thanquil Darkheart. You would be the clerk assigned to Chade.”

“Yes, Arbiter,” the man said, his wilds accent replaced by born and bred Sarth. He climbed the steps and put a key to the lock. “Clerk Moin. Anything you need don't hesitate to ask.”

Inside the building was well maintained but austere. It would serve its purpose, a place for Thanquil to sleep for a night. “I will need food and a bed for the night, clerk Moin. Tomorrow you will direct me to the council chambers, after that I will find myself an inn to sleep in for the remainder of my stay. I will return here only if I need more coin.”

“As you wish, Arbiter Darkheart. Oh and welcome to Chade.”

“Welcome to Chade.”

Weren't the first time Betrim had been the Chade and fact was he was no more impressed with it this time than the last. He shoved aside the little merchant who had welcomed him and looked around. Too hot, too many guards, too many merchants, too much salt in the air, too damned busy.

“Never been ta Chade 'fore,” Green said staring in open mouthed wonder at the spectacle.

“We figured that from the first hundred times ya said so,” Bones said with a sigh.

Betrim had thought that two days cooped up in a building with the crew was bad, two weeks stuck on a boat with them had been far worse. Bones had somehow managed to befriend a legion of rats that had swarmed around him squeaking for food. Henry and the Boss had been going at it hammer and tongs for what seemed like the entire journey and seeing as how the entire crew was stuck in one cabin there was fuck all in the way of privacy.  Green had spent the whole journey staring daggers at Betrim when he thought the Black Thorn wasn't watching. The boy couldn’t have known that Betrim had eyes in the back of his head. Swift had been the only bearable member and that was because he spent the majority of the time absent. He had somehow managed to get his way into the beds of all four of the ship's female crew including the Captain's wife. Fact was it was a miracle Swift hadn't gotten them all thrown overboard.

The Boss finished talking to the Captain, jumped down onto the wood of the pier, shouldered his way through his crew and then turned to face them all. “Here it is. I know you all been holed up an' patient but ain't no enjoyin' the city's sights jus' yet. Bones, take Green an' find us a place ta stay; somewhere quiet an' close ta one of the gates would be good.”

“We gonna be needin' ta make a quick exit, Boss?” Bones asked in his deep tones.

“Always a possibility. Swift, go put ya ear ta the ground. I wanna know anythin' an' everythin' that's happenin' in Chade.”

“Would be easier with a few bits ta grease a palm or two, Boss.”

“When are things ever easy? Henry, take Thorn an' get us some supplies. We ain't got much left so use what bits ya got sparse. I gotta go meet a man 'bout a job. Ya all know
the Sailor's Penny
?”

“Aye.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Mhm.”

“No.”

“Good. Be there at sundown.”

With that the crew split up into their groups. Betrim found Henry grinning up at him. “What?” he asked giving her a push hard enough to make her stumble.

“Ya red is showin'.”

Betrim ran a dirty hand through his greasy mess of hair. She was right. He hadn't dyed his hair in near a month. “Reckon we bes' find me some Eccan nuts then.”

She shook her head, still grinning in that wolfish way, pretty teeth showing behind her scarred lips. “Boss said sparse.” She started walking. “Red Thorn's got a bit of a ring ta it though.”

Chade always brought back memories and not many of them the good kind. After killing his second Arbiter Betrim stowed away on a boat and ended up in the free city. Back then he'd been nothing but a nameless boy still wet behind the ears and with only a hand-full of kills to his count. Off the boat for all of five minutes and guards had tried to take him. Betrim had stabbed one in the groin and fled. After that he spent near a year working on a heavy crew, guarding some merchant's warehouses. He was the youngest and greenest of the crew and two of the bigger lads seemed to take it personal. More than once he'd been beaten and robbed after getting paid and more than once he'd gone hungry because of it. Then one day both lads had woken up with their throats cut. That had earned Betrim some respect among the crew.

There was an Arbiter in Chade too. Betrim's fifth. Never knew the name, couldn’t even remember the face but he remembered the kill. He stalked the man for two days, watching, waiting. Then, in the market Betrim had walked up behind the Arbiter and shoved a long curved knife up under his rib cage into his chest. Left the knife in his back and walked away before anyone knew something was up. Cleanest Arbiter kill he'd ever done that one, certainly better than burning down an entire town.

“You alright?” Henry asked. She was staring at him. “Ya got a look about ya.”

“Rememberin' is all. Been stabbed twice here in Chade.”

“I know,” she replied with a grin.

“First one was a boy 'bout same age as Green. Trying ta make a name fer himself, I reckon. Missed my vitals though, the dumb fuck, so I took his head off.”

“I never miss.”

“You did. Got the scar ta prove it.”

Henry grinned at him again. “I never miss.”

Betrim snorted. The market was just ahead, he could see it already. It was as close to hell as he remembered. Full of people, full of smells, full of noise, full of dangers. People died all the time in the markets of Chade. Some during fights over prices or some such, some over thieving, some just tripped and got trampled though they were mostly the little ones, children or women or such.

A hundred different spices or more filled the air with their fragrance, coming together to form something close to a cloying stench. The noise was deafening, people shouting this way or that, selling, buying, accusing, it made no difference. The crowds packed in on all sides, a mass of human flesh being ground together. That was the problem with the market, or with markets in general as far as Betrim was concerned. You couldn't smell anyone coming, couldn't hear them coming, couldn't see them coming. Dangerous places were markets.