The Long War 01 - The Black Guard (9 page)

‘Hm, I would have thought the watch would have dealt with the drugs by now.’ Utha directed a questioning expression at Sergeant Clement, who looked surprised before stuttering out a reply. ‘My lord… the watch have no real power outside the walls… we, er, tend to keep our distance from the Karesian mobsters… those bastards will cut your nose off if you give them reason to.’

‘Relax, sergeant, Brother Utha is merely expressing his displeasure at the presence of foreign influence,’ Torian said calmly, before turning back to Utha. ‘Your need for theatrics aside, the Kasbah has a few establishments that provide feminine company for those who are inclined—’

‘Do you mean brothels?’ Utha interrupted.

‘I believe that is the common term, yes. Either way, the forger Glenwood spends most evenings in one of these establishments. It is likely that he will just be waking up.’

‘Let’s go and be a nice morning surprise for him, then,’ Utha replied, with his customary wicked smile.

They walked in loose formation out of the gates, sparing a respectful salute for the king’s guard who patrolled the outer walls. The guardsmen carried longswords, wore ornate golden armour and were answerable only to the king. They remained within the walls of Ro Tiris, or at the king’s side, and were charged with defending the city and the crown. Utha respected them far more than the watchmen, because they were true fighting men pledged to the crown from birth.

The guardsmen stopped anyone they did not recognize, taking a modest toll from those who wished to pass through the gates. Most common men were simply turned back along the highway and not permitted to leave the city. Utha knew that this was merely a ceremonial consideration and that if men truly wished to leave there were many secret ways and less secure gates they could use.

Beyond the walls, the outer city stretched along the coast in narrow streets framing the King’s Highway. This was where Karesian rainbow merchants sold their illicit wares and low-born men of Ro came to forget about their lives. The smell of spices and other less savoury concoctions was thick in the air as soon as Utha stepped off the highway. He turned up his nose at the sickly sweet smell and held a hand over his face.

The buildings here were much lower and more closely packed than in the city and the colours were brighter. Utha thought it more vulgar and garish. Karesian and Ro men shouted the prices of their wares to all who passed; spices, foods, weapons and clothing were all on display. Utha could also see exotic animals from the far south, caged and poorly treated, waiting for a buyer rich enough to want a strange pet or hunting animal. Desert spiders the size of dogs sat next to strange many-headed birds and muzzled firedrakes.

Utha puffed out his chest and let all nearby see that a Black cleric was passing. Torian, the taller of the two men, swept his purple cloak back and proudly displayed his full plate armour. The watchmen, who stood behind them, looked nervous and their lack of authority outside the city walls was evident in their faces.

The populace here were less fearful of the clerics and most simply glanced at them and turned away, carrying on with their business. The stallholders and merchants continued shouting their prices and drumming up sales, paying little attention to Utha and Torian.

The Kasbah of Haq was like a dozen other marketplaces in the outer city, a roughly circular section of street dominated by colourful awnings and closely packed market stalls.

Torian pointed to a nondescript building set back from the market. ‘That’s the place. I believe it’s called the Blue Feather.’

‘The nicer the name, the shittier the brothel, as a general rule,’ Utha replied, with a smile.

‘Well, I’ve not actually been to many, so I’ll defer to your expert opinion, brother,’ Torian said snobbishly.

‘You can look, you just can’t touch… the women or yourself,’ the Black cleric retorted crudely. ‘Anyway, enough of what you can’t do. I believe the man’s name is Glenwood, yes?’

Torian nodded. ‘He’s a forger, known in certain circles, though he’s seen as unreliable and reckless by many in the same trade.’

Utha shot him a questioning look. ‘Have you been mixing in dark circles, brother?’

‘Not by choice, but I had to immerse myself to a degree in order to get information. Criminals by their nature are very concerned with staying alive and an angry Purple cleric conjures images of death to such men. They can be very cooperative when threatened.’

Utha laughed. ‘And you question my theatrics…’

‘I use the gifts the One has given me, much as you do,’ said Torian, with even more snobbery.

‘Okay, so I’ll let you talk to Glenwood. Just nod at me if you need help,’ Utha said.

Torian took a deep breath and marched towards the Blue Feather, his hand firmly on his sword hilt. Utha motioned for the watchmen to follow and stepped slowly after the Purple cleric.

‘My lord, is there likely to be trouble here?’ Randall asked, as he came to walk next to Utha.

‘Oh, I should think so, yes. Probably no death, but I would expect some people to get slapped around.’ He grinned wickedly.

Randall smiled back politely, but Utha sensed that he didn’t find the situation funny.

‘Relax, lad, there aren’t enough real men around here to cause your master any sweat,’ he said in a vague attempt to be reassuring.

Torian stepped under a dark blue awning and approached a small group of Karesians seated on low wooden stools. The five men were armed with short scimitars and wore the flowing black robes of Karesian warriors. All had visible tattoos on their arms and their heads were shaved.

Utha stood behind him, staying outside the entrance awning but making his presence known. Sergeant Clement was still nervous and held his crossbow at the ready. Randall stood at the back, looking as if he was not prepared to take part in any violence, should it occur.

‘The fear of Jaa upon thee,’ one of the Karesians said with a florid bow. He spoke with a heavy Karesian accent. ‘What does a man of the One require of us?’ he asked respectfully of Torian, who answered with a shallow bow of his own.

‘We’re looking for a man of Ro called Glenwood. I hear that he frequents this… establishment.’ The last word was said with scorn and Utha shook his head.

The Karesian stood and smiled at Torian, revealing several gold teeth. He was a tall man, looking down on the Purple cleric. ‘Our clients are obviously men who desire discretion, my lord, and I regret that I cannot comment on who does or does not frequent this… establishment.’ His words were still polite, but Utha sensed an edge of defiance.

Torian confidently sized up the man, looking at his scimitar and warrior’s bearing. ‘Discretion does not matter to me, neither does your primitive weapon. You will tell me whether the man I seek is present.’ The words were spoken with authority and caused all five of the Karesians to become more alert as they looked at the two clerics and squad of watchmen.

The man who’d spoken narrowed his eyes, before letting his face flow into a broad smile. ‘My lord, we are simple men, not used to the presence of clerics.’ He bowed again. ‘I mean no offence.’

‘Then you will take us to Glenwood?’ Torian asked.

The Karesian considered it and glanced at his four companions, all of whom looked worried. Utha detected a hint of fear and was optimistic that Torian was sufficiently intimidating to speed their passage.

‘My lord cleric, I will take you to the man you seek for a small… price.’ He rubbed his hands together suggestively. ‘Think of it as a donation to the faithful of Jaa.’ His face was contorted into an unpleasant grin and his gold teeth glinted as the morning sun passed through a gap in the awning.

Utha stood next to Torian, lending his best expression of righteous annoyance to the one Torian already wore. The Karesian continued smiling, hoping that the two clerics would agree to bribe him. He slowly let the realization that this was unlikely intrude upon his grin and backed away, directing his eyes at the dusty street.

‘I have asked you twice. If I have to ask you again, I may become rather more insistent,’ Torian said plainly.

Utha smiled at the other four Karesians, showing a brazen confidence as he looked them up and down. Though they were obviously fighting men, they were poorly armed and would be no match for the two clerics.

The Karesian held his arms wide in a gesture of submission and bowed deeply. ‘I apologize for any offence caused, the ways of the Ro are still new to me, my lord,’ he said while still looking at the floor.

‘I’m about to ask again… I suspect you don’t want that,’ Torian snarled aggressively.

The Karesian looked up, letting a frown of contempt show before he smiled again and motioned for Torian to follow him. ‘You’ll have to speak to the mistress,’ he said as he led the way inside.

Utha continued smiling at the other men as Torian ducked under the low doorway that led into the brothel. Without turning, Utha motioned for the watchmen to go in, and then followed himself.

Inside, the building was dirty and badly maintained, with an unpleasant smell of incense which Utha suspected was used to mask the odour of sweaty men. A counter sat in the middle of a small entrance area, behind which sat a woman of Ro in her late forties. She was attractive but had hard eyes, and her tan suggested she had lived some of her life further south. Either side of the counter were yellow silk curtains hanging across doorways, and four mean-looking Karesian men stood idly around the counter.

Torian entered and all present looked up. Several of the Karesians appeared ready for action as the squad of watchmen followed, until the man who led Torian held his hands up to let them know that starting trouble was unwise. To emphasize this point, Utha walked in and did his best to look dangerous. His pale features, pink eyes and white hair made him distinctive, even amongst Karesians, and he thought that at least one of the men could connect the name
Utha the Ghost
to his face.

‘And what can we do for such fine gentlemen?’ the woman asked.

‘Your man here was about to take us to see a client of yours. There is no need to worry yourself,’ Torian said dismissively.

‘They want to see Glenwood and are… rather insistent,’ said the man who had led them inside.

The Karesian guards assessed the clerics and, much as those outside had done, deemed them too dangerous to be worth fighting. The woman looked flustered when she saw that none of her men was going to stop Utha and Torian from intruding.

‘We have rules here, sir,’ she said. ‘Our customers pay for cunt or cock, not to be interrupted by clerics. A face like yours would put them right off their stride.’ She screwed her face up in mock disgust and looked at Torian.

One of the Karesians laughed at this and the confidence shown by their mistress made all the guards feel more comfortable.

Utha made a low grunt of amusement and stepped past the Purple cleric. Leaning casually on the side of the counter and deliberately turning his back on the Karesian guards, he looked the woman square in the eyes. ‘I’m the one with the sense of humour. My pious friend here thinks of you as little more than a river-dwelling rodent, given your profession. So I recommend you direct any further jokes to me,’ he said with calculated aggression. ‘Now, is there a joke you’d like to make about my face?’ He stared her down with his piercing pink eyes.

The mistress maintained eye contact for a moment before looking over Utha’s shoulder and nodding to one of her guards. He felt a hand on his shoulder as three of the guards moved in closer.

‘There is no need for trouble. We can all be friendly, no?’ The man who’d recognized Utha held his hands up. He had not advanced towards the cleric and was staring at Torian and the watchmen.

Utha didn’t wait to see if the other guards had listened to him, as he judged the value of a quick show of violence would be considerable under the circumstances. He flexed his shoulder and elbowed the man who had grabbed him in the face, the steel plate making a satisfying clank against the man’s jaw before he crumpled to the ground.

The other two guards seemed to consider attacking, but seeing Torian extravagantly draw his longsword persuaded them otherwise.

‘I said that if I had to ask again, I would be more insistent.’ He levelled his sword at the nearest man.

The woman backed away and didn’t raise any more objections. She waved an arm towards the right-hand curtain and spoke quietly. ‘He’s in the fourth room along.’

Utha winked at the mistress and turned back to Torian. ‘Handle this for a minute.’

He pulled back the curtain and entered the corridor beyond. A few scared faces, mostly male, poked out from behind coloured curtains, their time having been interrupted by the commotion outside. Utha spared a few glares to make the customers disappear back behind their curtains and moved to the fourth room, where he could hear hurried movement.

He pulled back the bright red curtain and saw a wiry man of Ro attempting to climb out of a narrow window. He was only half dressed and carried his boots and a sheathed longsword in his arms. The naked woman who lay on the wooden cot in the centre of the floor appeared unconcerned at the intrusion and looked bored as Utha quickly crossed the room and grabbed Glenwood’s leg.

‘I’m fairly sure I’ve not done anything to annoy the One recently,’ he said as Utha roughly pulled him back. He was flushed from his recent sexual activity and barely struggled.

‘Just make sure your cock’s away. We need a little chat,’ Utha said, with a gauntleted fist around Glenwood’s neck. He picked the smaller man up with ease and held him off the ground for a moment.

Glenwood glanced over at the woman lying next to them. ‘I don’t suppose this makes me more desirable, does it?’ he asked with a weak smile. The woman snorted in derision and rolled over to face the opposite wall.

‘You’re in the same room as me, Glenwood, you could never compete.’ Utha smiled as he spoke and shoved the forger out of the room.

He stumbled to the ground, dropping his sword and boots on the wooden floor. A few faces again appeared from behind curtains, but most disappeared quickly for fear of involving themselves in whatever the Black cleric was doing.