Chapter III
There were five of us. Well, there were really four of us, and one who had been slowly diminshing for several hours. He was somewhere between a half and three quarters.
‘Please…I know nothing more!’
It was difficult to tell whether it was his flesh, blood, or simply his spirit that was being extracted with agonising care. The light in the room was dim. If any hunks of fat were hewn, or pints of blood drained, you could not smell it. The room hummed with monoclean solution and preservatives.
‘Why…I have told you everything!’
The two fiends in white skin-tight suits seemed less convinced. What Edin’s opinion was I could not tell. He had resigned himself to studying a nearby wall.
‘We are not satisfied. Neither is our lord.’
‘What…what need I say?’
‘May we suggest recounting your testimony again?’
‘What use is that? There is nothing left to utter!’
‘There will be nothing left of you should you refuse.’
I could see more clearly now. The man hung in the air like a planet in the void, and it seemed as if a pair of cosmic tyrants were carving mountains or draining oceans before the whole sphere gave way. Nevertheless, the man summoned what little strength he had left, and began to speak as suggested.
‘It…it is true, I visited the household on the day. I spoke to your lord, Gods keep him!’
‘What did you speak of?’
‘He…my lord complained of the trespass his manor had suffered during the night of a performance.’
‘The stagehand. Suprisingly resistant, that one.’
‘I assured my lord that what the boy had told you was nonsense, that I had not paid him to scour my lord’s home.’
‘…If only there was more of you to take.’
The man shivered, as if the sphere had suffered a quake.
‘We would not have discovered the trespass, had we not checked the boy for anything priceless. Had he not seized that bag of coins, for which he could not hide his joy, he would have
escaped us. Of course, by the time we had seized him, he had already told you everything.’
‘…Yes.’
‘We would have gladly taken you into our care, had our lord not been placated by your words. At least we can enjoy you now.’
‘Please…please, I did not know! They paid me, yes, but they assured me the house was to be burgled!’
‘You believed them as easily as our lord believed you. To think we could utter his name with yours in the same breath…’
‘But…But I told you who it was, who approached me! It was that devil, Deircun! He has been my shadow for months!’
‘This Deircun…He is a thief?’
‘And worse, surely worse! He is the one behind this, not me! He is the one who paid me to search this house! He still hangs about my troupe even now! Go to him, seize him, kill him,
just restore me! You promised me you could!’
‘…Of course we shall restore you, we shall return everything…’
A few minutes worth of counsel was required to confirm our plans, and with Edin’s nod, the whole household emptied into Majoree. The household was ringed around the two of us as we trudged
towards the grounds of Prolik Tram-El’s troupe. The night was old, but the streets felt new, refreshed with the barks of our guardsmen, who kicked dog and beggar alike to make way for our
band. Torches and fire-sticks were thrust into the sky, as if to mock those specks which could only watch as one of their own burned through the city. As difficult as it was to speak,
owing to the surly din that surrounded us, I did manage to sneak a few words to Edin in the midst of our march.
‘Do you believe him? Surely this Deircun would have escaped after the deed was done, along with any evidence. Perhaps Prolik expected this, perhaps an ambush awaits us…’
‘What else are we to do? Ambush or not, Prolik’s words are all we have.’
Edin’s words offered slight comfort. As much as he and our mob seemed to burn bright with vengeance, the city was unmoved. It felt like at any moment, one of the crumbling clay walls would
surely fall and snuff us out, and the stars would laugh at their brother who descended to earth, our rage now smoke that wafted to heaven for them to savour. I did not regret making my oath
to him, nor did I regret setting out this night. But with each new step, I felt more and more like my father surely felt, a paper man from a paper tribe, only half-eager to rise, half-keen
to float on the smoke that rose from this blaze that called itself House Cormyk.
‘Halt! We near the place. Hasik, Lorel, scout ahead! Our lord will have Deircun in his grasp tonight.’
‘Let me go with them! I would see this place.’
‘My lord?’
‘…Hel may go, if he wishes it.’
But despite, or perhaps because of my hesitance, I resolved to show my worth, and set out with two of the men. If the stars did laugh before, they were silent now, as we soon came within
view of such murk that could drown the sky. It seemed like all the world’s scum had floated here, and it was difficult to keep up as we darted past tents and wine vats in search of Deircun.
Backstabbers gave lectures to failed neophytes, whores would haggle which part of their flesh they would surrender to slumming sons of consuls, and all of them alike would then sit on pews
upon pews, dribbling into cups, and heap hope upon hope for a new fancy to sate them. I confess that I came to close to losing my stomach, as my nose was jostled by scents of sick that
gave way to frightened sweat streaked with blood. With a glance you could see many a world splutter into being, hang in the air, then be lost forever, like so much spilled beer. It was not
a few times I saw a life taken for exactly that, though I could not understand why, for their brew looked like piss.
‘You two, listen! I overheard some rogues mention Deircun. His tent lies on the edge of the encampment near the river. Lorel, report this to our lord.’
‘What would you do?’
‘Hel and I will approach the tent. It may be he is not here, but we will determine that. Go, now!’
From there we crept, and soon confirmed what had been overheard. The tent seemed fit for the tyrant of this place, and I assumed that Deircun must be a short man. What did not seem fit was
the sheer quiet; where were the guards, or fawning courtiers?
‘Hel…It is strange…I do not like this, but we must approach.’
‘Shall we take him?’
‘Yes. By now our lord and the men will be falling on this place, we must seize Deircun before he has the chance to escape.’
We drew our knives and came to the threshold. Within lay the spoils of his trade, old bits of gilded furniture strewn with coins and gems, all painted a dull red-grey from a waning candle.
There was no Deircun inside.
‘Where could…?’
An answer came in the form of blades pressed to our necks.
‘Deircun, look here! These would go well with the other one!’
We were dragged before their lord who stood regal in a tablecloth cape, milk white stiletto caressing the neck of Lorel.
‘You’re right! Quite the prize…no doubt they’ve skulked their way from the Cormyk place. We’ll away before the rest of them come, but not before giving sweet mother Earth a taste of their
blood…’
A stroke of the hand, a whisper, and Lorel’s life began to pour onto the ground. He had no voice to scream, so I screamed for him. A swift hand across the mouth cut that short.
‘Did you enjoy that wail? It is the last thing you will utter. Bring the other one forward, I want this one to watch…’
Another stroke, even quieter, and Hasik’s life began to pour onto the ground.
‘Now the last one…’
As I knelt there with Lorel and Hasik’s blood ready to join mine in one swift stroke, I saw shades rise from the shadows. I thought I was already dead, but the flashes from their
firesticks proved otherwise.
‘What!?’
With that last utterance, the heads of the guards were blown apart, painting Deircun’s tent red, decorating it with bone. I hope they enjoyed that last word.
‘Bastards, they are upon us!’
He seized me by the neck and turned to face the men.
‘I have one of yours!’
‘We have a dragon’s worth of fire pointed at your head. Even your soul would be blasted to bits.’
‘My soul is destined for hell! You would be doing me a favour, for how could I go there without one?’
The stiletto began to prick the skin.
‘Bold words…It is a shame your eyes betray you.’
‘Be quiet! I know that I am done, but I will take this one with me!’
‘We know you were involved in the murder of our lord. We would know why.’
‘I would tell you that with those sticks aimed at me?’
‘The only way you leave this place with your life is telling us what you know.’
‘How can I trust you?’
‘You cannot. But trust that they’ll find charred bits of you in every corner of the city if you don’t.’
‘But…But this one here! You’d kill him too!’
‘What is his life compared to that of our lord’s?’
I could feel the dagger retreat.
‘…Lay your sticks down!’
‘Lay that knife down, and we will do so.’
‘Ah! You care for this one then!’
‘No. I just think it absurd for a pile of flesh to speak, let alone dictate to us. For that is what you will become, Deircun, if you do not lay that knife on the ground.’
I could feel the tickle of hesitation before Deircun decided to thrust the knife out.
‘Fine!’
Both sticks and dagger dropped to the ground.
‘Release him!’
I felt his arm give way. I ran to stand amongst the men.
‘We know you did not commit the murder yourself. To slay a Houseman, a head of house no less…no, you are too cowardly. You were only the middleman.’
‘…Yes…I was approached by one who was bent on taking your lord’s life. He payed me to survey the manor, and I fell in with Prolik’s troupe, as I knew they performed there from time to
time.’
‘You paid Prolik to provide information?’
‘I did. The oaf thought I was only out to burgle the place, little did he know…’
‘The man who paid you. Who was he?’
‘…He did not tell me his name. I did not see his face clearly, but…I believe he had tubes for eyes…He seemed to know so much about me, but he was no thief or rogue…He was cloaked,
but I could tell his clothes were not loose…he wore a suit, I think…’
A silence fell on the place.
‘What else? Tell else all you know!’
‘I know nothing else! Now let me go!’
‘No! You know more than you tell!’
‘You basta–!’
With that last utterance, the head of Deircun, thief of Majoree, was blown apart.
‘Hold! Hold your fire, damn it! There was more to tell!’
‘No one fired! Our sticks are on the ground!’
A madness fell on the men as they desperately searched the place. There was no one to be found.
(Featured image is ‘Evening on the Pier’ by John Atkin Grimshaw)
