The Exarch & the Errand Girl Ch. 07

Yvain regarded the knight carefully as they made their way back through the city. Lady Elina had chosen, despite a bit of protesting from Sir Tau, to accompany them to Master Quellar's workshop. She knew the man, and was a prized customer, and she was certain that, should Tau be recognized as the patron who'd ordered the knives, she could suss out the truth better than Yvain could.

Yvain, of course, doubted that there would be any further truth to determine if Master Quellar recognized Tau. That would be that. Tau's bluff would fail, and Yvain would arrest him.

They passed a pair of Guards on patrol, and Yvain waved at them, twisting his fingers in a circular motion, sending a signal to follow. If Sir Tau was to be arrested, Yvain doubted he would be easy to apprehend. The man was well known for his ability with a sword and a lance. The two Guards exchanged a glance, then turned and trailed after Yvain's party, following far enough behind that it would not be clearly evident that they were. Yvain could've sworn that he saw Rouran glance at them, though, noticing that they'd slipped along. She was cagey, that one. Too cagey by half.

He stared at her back, and the sight of her naked body writhing on Sir Tau's cock came unbidden to his mind. The muscles in her back shifting, tightening as she'd planted her hands on Sir Tau's chest, her legs pumping. Her heavy breasts being pressed against Tau's hungry mouth. The way she'd turned and looked at Yvain as she had climaxed. He hadn't been able to control himself with Elina. If they'd been alone, without the nobles...well, Yvain could only fantasize.

It had been a long time, it occurred to Yvain, since he'd encountered a woman like Rouran, who made him feel like this. He didn't fantasize about women, for the most part. He simply chased after them, and the ones who fell for a man in uniform fell into his bed, often as not.

It seemed mad to him. For days now, she'd been a thorn in his side, and the first time she stripped off his clothes he fell in love with her?

Well, lust, surely. Not love. You couldn't fall in love with someone just because they took their clothes off. Certainly not when they'd taken their clothes off and fucked another man. It was just lust. Lust was something Yvain could work with, something he could wrap his head around. Love. He almost laughed at himself. The captain would've said he was confusing his cock with his brain. Or, in this case, his cock with his heart. He didn't love Rouran. She was headstrong, and arrogant, and a jumped up fisherwoman made powerful just because Lord Ked had taken a shine to her. He'd be rid of her just as soon as the investigation was over.

Still, maybe there'd be an opportunity to get her into his bed before the investigation did wrap up.

"We're here," hissed Rouran as they stopped outside Master Quellar's workshop.

Yvain had simply been walking, lost in his own thoughts. He nodded, then tried the door. When he discovered it was locked, he gave it a heavy pounding, the kind the Guard knew well, the sort of knock that said, "open up, it's the Guard," without having to say the words.

There was no answer.

"Closed up for the night, maybe?" said Yvain.

"It's early yet," said Tau. "The last market bell hasn't even rung."

"He lives above the shop anyhow," said Elina. "He'd hear you."

Yvain glanced in through a window. The shop was completely darkened.

"Well, I don't see anything there," he said. "Maybe he left."

"There might be another way in," said Rouran. Without waiting for a response, she turned around the corner. Yvain cursed, going after her.

"We can't just break into someone's business," he said, indignant at Rouran's assumption. "Beyond which, we need Quellar here to identify—what are you doing?"

Rouran was kneeling in the mud next to the window, holding something in her hand and looking it over. She handed it up to him as he came close.

"It's broken glass," she announced.

Yvain took the shard, then saw that the window was shattered.

"He broke a window somehow? Threw something from inside the shop?" he said.

"Or someone made a way out," said Rouran.

"Master Quellar, if you are in there, please unlock your door!" shouted Yvain, taking a step towards the window. There was no answer.

The other two Guards arrived and Yvain called out to them.

"One of you go around back. I need the other to watch this window. Rouran, go out around and watch the front with Lady Elina and Sir Tau."

"Where are you going?" asked Rouran.

"In," said Yvain, gripping the edge of the window with his gloves and hauling his leg in, ducking under the sash.

The smithy was much more foreboding in the twilight. Where in the day it had seemed to be full of light and every piece of metal gleamed, ready to be bought by a discerning buyer, now it seemed to menace, a sleeping beast of sharp steel. Yvain glanced around, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light.

"Master Quellar!" he shouted.

There was no answer.

He stepped forward, kicked something hard, sending it skittering across the floor, where it collided with a set of swords leaning by their points against a table, toppling the whole thing over in an ungodly din of noise. There was an echoing yowl and something small shot forward, scampering around Yvain, then up a table and out the broken window.

"Kili's beard!" he heard the Guard he'd assigned to watch the window swear. "What was that?"

"Shop's cat," he shouted back.

There was a thumping from the front door, and he could hear Rouran's voice.

"Sergeant Wair, are you okay? Open the door!"

He frowned. He didn't need to follow her orders. She was just the Exarch's liaison. And yet, there was a part of him that couldn't abide the idea that Rouran might worry. He made his way to the front door, unlocking the three bolt locks he discovered were holding it shut, one at the center and one at the top and bottom.

Rouran pushed it open, smashing it into his shoulder before he could step away. He swore as the wood pushed into him.

"Can't you give me a second to get it open?" he asked.

"I'm sorry!" said Rouran, and Yvain softened a little bit. Her concern seemed quite genuine.

"It's fine," he said.

He walked back to where he'd tripped, finding the object he'd kicked. A discarded hilt of a sword in progress. He wondered if someone had used it to smash the window open.

"Someone get the lights lit," said Tau. To Yvain's surprise, Rouran hurried to comply, finding a fireplace match and lighting one of the lanterns that hung from the rafters.

The workshop was in a disarray. There'd been a fight, or at least a struggle. Where before the tables had been laid out with weaponry for sale, a number of them were empty, their contents deposited on the floor in a rough heap. Papers and materials were scattered about.

"Where's Quellar, though?" Yvain puzzled aloud.

"Perhaps they dragged him out through the window," said Rouran.

"But if they could take him out through the window, why didn't they just use his key to lock the door behind them and use that instead? Forcing a conscious man through a broken window is just as conspicuous as taking an unconscious man through a door."

"He lives up above the shop," reminded Elina, pointing to a ladder leading to a trap door in the ceiling.

"Give me the lantern," said Yvain.

Tau reached up and pulled the lantern off the beam, handing it to Yvain, who took it up the ladder with him. The trap door lifted easily, and he glanced up into the dark of the attic room above the workshop.

"Come up!" he yelled. "Sir Tau, you first."

"What is it?" shouted Rouran.

"It's Quellar," said Yvain. It came out almost a sigh, and he pulled his legs clear of the trap door to let the others up.

Tau bolted up the ladder behind him, then Rouran, scrambling as fast as she could.

Yvain grabbed Rouran's hand, pulling her up, then helping Lady Elina up after. He watched Rouran's face catch sight of what was waiting in the attic, the color in her cheeks draining out as she did.

"Vash protect us," she whispered. "What's happened to him?"

"Someone's started putting his wares to use," said Yvain, gesturing.

Master Quellar hung from the wall of his own attic. He'd been pierced through the stomach, neck, ankles and wrists by swords, pinning him to the wood. Yvain could only hope that he had died quickly, because he could not imagine what the pain of being suspended on sword point to the wall was like, beyond unbearable.

Rouran looked away, and for some reason, he reached out his hand and grabbed hers, squeezing it. She squeezed back, looking up at him, a soft, grateful smile alighting on her lips before she glanced up at the dead smith again, and the horror swallowed it up.

And then it changed to one of interest.

"These swords are peculiar," she said.

"What?" asked Yvain. He looked at the swords holding Quellar up. They looked like swords to him.

"How tall are you, Sir Tau?" asked Rouran.

"Well, about twenty hands, if you must know," said Tau.

"Can you reach the sword at Master Quellar's neck?" asked Rouran.

"I..." Tau looked up the dead smith. He reached up, then strained to stand on his tip toes. His fingertips just barely made it to the pommel of the sword in Master Quellar's neck, but were unable to touch the hilt.

"And yet, look, that one is perfectly parallel to the others," said Rouran. "In fact, all of these swords are aligned with the others."

"So what?" asked Yvain.

"Well, how did they do that?" asked Rouran. "His murderers, I mean. Did they all perfectly synchronize their stabbing motion?"

"They could have..." started Yvain, and then he looked at the dead man again. The swords in him were perfectly parallel to each other. Inhumanly so, in fact. Six men standing together couldn't have impaled the smith so accurately.

"You have a theory," Yvain accused Rouran.

"I have an idea," said Rouran. "But we'll need Sorcerer Siara to confirm."

"You might need her for something else as well," said Elina, lifting the lantern and illuminating the opposite wall. "Unless you can read this."

Yvain and Rouran glanced at what Lady Elina was talking about. There on the wall was a bizarre script, made of soft swooping curves that met jagged corners and cuts, all of it formed from the dark rust of dried blood.

"What is that?" asked Yvain.

"The script for dragon's tongue," said Elina. "We had a book of it in my father's day, but I sold it years ago to the Guild. They're the only ones who can read dragon, and they don't give lessons."

Yvain looked from the dead smith to the dragon's tongue written in blood, and cursed himself for drawing this assignment.

***

Siara arrived from the Guild not too long after Yvain's fellow Sergeant, Marjov Therus and a contingent of his men arrived to secure the murder site. To Yvain's surprise, they appeared quickly after he'd dispatched a runner to bring reinforcements from the nearest Guard Post. Marjov's normal beat was on the Guild Hill, but he explained he'd been drilling his men in marching when he'd encountered Yvain's runner.

To Yvain's far greater surprise, the Chair of the High Council of the Guild herself arrived to accompany Siara again.

"Mistress Heldi," he said, bowing slightly.

"Straighten yourself, Sergeant," said Heldi, waving him away. She saw Rouran standing at his side and raised her arms in greeting.

"Rouran! I hope you are well!"

"I don't know if I could say that, considering what's upstairs, Mistress Heldi."

"Yes, we heard," said Heldi. "I do apologize. If you live long enough, you see enough to inure you to such things. Show us."

Yvain followed behind the women as Rouran, Siara, and Heldi ascended the ladder.

"Here," said Rouran when they'd all crammed back into the attic bedroom, pointing to Master Quellar's corpse.

Heldi and Siara stared at the man pinned to the wall, then exchanged a look.

"I apologize if this comes across as impertinent, but this appears to be a meaningful death, Mistress Heldi," said Yvain. He took up the lantern and shone it on the text on the opposite wall. "Does this clarify it at all?"

Heldi and Siara turned around, and Yvain could see Siara's lips move as she read the words.

Siara turned and spoke to Heldi, in some language Yvain could not comprehend. He glanced at Rouran.

"Dragon," she mouthed to him.

"I'm sorry," said Siara, after another exchange with Heldi in dragon. "We were discussing what this meant, and what to tell you."

"You should tell me anything relevant to the investigation," said Yvain.

"We should, Sergeant," said Heldi. "Except that Rouran here is the Noble Council's liaison, so anything said to her is liable to return to their ears. And once the Five Noble Families have heard it, it may very well be that the city will hear. And I would not cause a panic in this city."

"Tell me," said Yvain.

"I can leave," said Rouran.

"No," said Yvain. "You're the one who noticed the way the swords were arranged in Quellar's body. And you found the hilt. Whatever these Sorcerers have to say will be critical to this investigation, and you need to know it."

He looked at Heldi's skeptical glance.

"She does, Mistress Heldi," he said. "I need her to."

"Very well," said Heldi, relenting. "But, Rouran, you cannot mention this to the Five Nobles, at least, not until Sorcerer Siara here tells you you can."

Rouran seemed to hesitate, then nodded. "As you wish."

"Proceed, Sorcerer Siara," said Heldi.

"Master Quellar's...supports are the work of a spell," said Siara. "He was not raised or stabbed by human hands, but rather through magic."

"And the writing?"

"It's a warning," said Siara. "It says this is a message to the Guild, it says that this is the scourge, the punishment we're reaping for our actions, for our domination of the city."

Yvain was silent for a moment, digesting what the Sorcerer had told him.

"This means you have a traitor in your midst," he said.

"Yes, possibly," said Heldi.

"A Sorcerer who helped conspire, at the very least, to kill another Sorcerer, and who has now killed this smith."

"Yes," said Heldi. "Possibly."

"It seems more likely than possible," said Yvain.

"It's just as possible that these anti-Guild murderers have a warlock in their midst as they do a trained Sorcerer, Sergeant Wair," said Heldi. "You can rest assured, though, that, if there is a traitor, the Guild will determine who might be a culprit for this heinous betrayal. You do not need to concern yourself with their identity, unless you discover the warlock. You should confine your investigation to their co-conspirators."

"And if I should find some evidence of who your traitor might be?"

"Then you can bring it directly to me, and I will put it to use, if it is of use. But I suspect we will identify the traitor long before you learn of it."

"Yes, I feel similar, Mistress Heldi," said Yvain.

"Do you need us for anything else, Sergeant?" asked Heldi.

"No, Mistress."

"Good. Siara, return with me. You will need to make a full report to the High Council."

"Yes, Mistress," said Siara.

They filed out of the attic, and Yvain surveyed the people gathered in the workshop's main room.

"Sir Tau, you're free to go," he said.

"You don't think I had anything to do with this?" asked Tau.

"I haven't ruled it out," said Yvain. "But I do not have enough to support a conclusion either way, and the Noble Council will never agree to me charging you with a murder or a conspiracy without it."

Tau snorted.

"At least you're honest," he said.

Yvain only nodded, not pushing the conflict with the vai Keller knight further. Tau left, Elina joining him.

"You might have made us an enemy there," said Rouran.

"Maybe," agreed Yvain.

"You could have just told him a pleasant lie, like that we didn't suspect him at all anymore."

"For all we know, Sir Tau is the warlock, and he took care of Master Quellar before arriving to see Lady Elina and joining us," said Yvain.

"He would have to be awfully quick to arrive at Quellar's after us, murder the man, then get from here to the Guild Hill to arrive in the time he did," said Rouran.

"But not impossible," said Yvain.

"You still didn't have to let him know we suspected that, if we do suspect that."

"I was just buried to the hilt inside his consort," said Yvain. "I don't know if that's governed by some rule on noble etiquette or not, but I feel it's a little improper at least to not be somewhat honest with him."

"I can only hope and pray to Vash that that's not some sort of silly code you live by," said Rouran. "You stick your cock in someone and now you're obligated to tell their loved ones the truth? Does that mean you'll never lie to me again?"

The memory implied by Rouran's quip filled the pause that erupted, expanding as the silence did. Yvain looked at her carefully. He could see she was deeply embarrassed, but he knew if he didn't say something now, he might never say something in the future.

"Rouran, what you did back there..."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I know you don't," said Yvain.

"Good!" exclaimed Rouran. "Then we don't have to talk about it."

"Well, I think we do," said Yvain. "Especially as we'll need to continue working on this investigation together."

"Why? Do you spend a lot of time speaking to Siara about how you're fucking her?"

"That's different," said Yvain.

"I don't see how!" said Rouran. "I—"

Her voice lowered precipitously.

"—Sucked your cock. And only for a moment. I don't see how that's qualified me for a special discussion about our feelings."

"That's why I don't talk to Siara about our encounters," said Yvain. "Because she doesn't have feelings about it."

"A woman who has sex with a man has some Vash-damnable feelings about it, Sergeant Wair," snapped Rouran. "Good or bad."

"Well, then, she doesn't have feelings about it beyond pleasure," said Yvain.

"You don't know that. She might just feel boredom!" said Rouran.

"Rouran, you're evading. We're not talking about Sorcerer Siara, we're talking about you and me. I wasn't looking to do anything in that bath with you..."

"No, Sorcerers and Heads of Noble Houses, that's more your style."

"Rouran, what is your problem with me?"

"Nothing! I don't have a problem with you!" said Rouran. She paused. "Well, actually, I

have too many problems with you to count."

"Name one of them," said Yvain.

"Well, you don't respect me," said Rouran. "Not enough to value my opinion anyway. Or, at least, you didn't. You did up there with Mistress Heldi."

"Yes, I'm sorry," said Yvain. "There's a great deal more to you than meets the eye."

"There is," agreed Rouran.

"You didn't even flinch at the sight of Master Quellar's body," said Yvain. "There are plenty of men in the Guard who've seen horrible murders just as worse that would turn away or get sick."

"You should try living in the country, Sergeant," said Rouran. "Any animal I've ever eaten had to be gutted first. Hard to see men too much different."

"Master Quellar was just a dead beast to you?"

Rouran paused, then shook her head.

"No," she said, softly. "I just...I didn't feel anything. I don't know what it means."

"What happened when you killed that Dragon Clan warrior Lord Islan spoke of?"

"I shook uncontrollably," she said. "And shivered. What was killing in the Battle of Tia Joi like?"

Yvain frowned. He did not think of it much, except when he closed his eyes.

"Mud," he said. "And blood, and the feel of other men pushing on your back, and more pushing on your shield."

"Did you kill anyone?" she asked.

Yvain was silent.

"I don't recall," he said, after a moment. He shrugged.