“Unwarranted murder,” the Electress replied, gaze steady on the Scuttlers’ leader. “Done in my place of business without formal challenge.”
“Challenge?” King Coal took a purposeful step forward, face flushed to a dark shade of crimson. He stopped when Julesin moved to his side, stooping to speak softly into his ear. Whatever counsel the pale man offered seemed to be enough for Kevozan to master himself, albeit after a few seconds’ effort. “Where,” he grated, addressing his words to Varkash, “was the challenge when this bitch bombed my winding house?”
“Our brother makes false accusation,” the Electress stated with calm authority. “Show me evidence of a Fury’s hand in the bombing and I’ll happily cut it off and present it to you.”
“Bombs don’t leave evidence,” King Coal replied. “Just useless mechanicals and blasted bodies.”
“Much like the one that exploded outside the Miner’s Repose not long ago,” the Electress mused. “It seems we share common experience, brother.”
“I’m not your fucking brother . . .”
“Accusation and counter-accusation,” Varkash broke in as Kevozan’s face began to flush once more. “Dis avails us nudding. We are not a court. Duh purpose of parley is to reach accommodation in order to prevent further bloodshed.” He turned to Chuckling Sim. “You also indicated a grievance, brudder.”
“Indeed.” For the first time Sim’s smile faded, not entirely but with an instant loss of humour and hardening of the eyes that told Lizanne much about his true nature. “Two dead,” he continued, staring at the Coal King. “Well-liked men of industrious and loyal demeanour. Such men are hard to replace, and their loss stirs anger amongst their comrades.”
“I also lost two men,” Kevozan replied, a defiant glint in his eye which told of an unwillingness, or more likely, an inability to be cowed by the Verdigris leader. “And another last week,” he added, turning his gaze on the Electress. “Left outside my place with his skull mashed in.”
“If a beaten body lying in a Scorazin gutter is cause for war,” the Electress said, “we would never have peace.”
This provoked some laughter among all present, apart from King Coal, who silenced the chuckles of his own men with a glare. “I’ve got war aplenty,” he said, eyes fixing on the Electress. “If you want it. You want formal challenge, you can have it here and now.”
“Calm yourself, brother,” Chuckling Sim said, his smile returning to its former fullness, though Lizanne detected an edge of warning in his voice. “We all remember the last unfortunate round of hostilities. The constables left us to starve for a full month as punishment, as you recall. I for one have no great desire to taste rat meat again. Besides which, since my grievance remains unresolved, a challenge spoken in the forum would apply as much to the Verdigris as to the Furies.”
He fell silent, letting his gaze and his smile linger on the Coal King. Lizanne saw the quiver of Kevozan’s features deepen into a shudder, his body tensed from head to toe with poorly contained anger. Once again it was Julesin who calmed him, his words too soft to catch but evidently carrying enough wisdom to stem his leader’s rage. “I’m not making any settlement,” he said, “until my winding-gear is fixed. Brother Sim worries about going hungry, so do my men.”
“So fix it,” the Electress said with a shrug.
“The only two fuckers who knew how are lying in pieces on the midden,” King Coal returned. “I want the Tinkerer.”
“Then perhaps you should hire him,” Chuckling Sim suggested.
“Already tried, he said no.” Kevozan’s gaze roamed the Furies until it came to rest on Melina. “She can persuade him, though. Everyone knows he’s sweet on her.”
The Electress turned to Melina with a questioning glance. “If he’s paid well enough,” the tall woman said. “It’ll take a lot of books, though.”
“I’ll contribute to the fee,” Sim said. “Though it’ll pain me to denude my library. Brother Varkash?”
“I don’t have any books,” Varkash said, before continuing with evident reluctance, “but I do have maps of duh south seas. Cost me six sacks each.”
“Surrendering one to the cause of continued harmony would seem a reasonable exchange,” Chuckling Sim said.
The pirate stood silent for a long moment, tapping a finger to his false nose in sullen consideration. “Very well,” he said finally. “Duh fee for Tinkerer’s services will be met equally by parties present. Speak now to voice disagreement.”
Silence reigned for half a minute or so, broken only by a faint groaning Lizanne realised was the sound of Kevozan grinding his teeth.
“Agreement is reached,” Varkash said. “Leaving duh madder of redress.”
The haggling continued for another hour and by the end of it the Verdigris were richer to the tune of ten sacks of coal, five for each of their lost men. The Electress agreed to part with one tenth of the Furies’ next food allotment to compensate the Scuttlers for their denuded income. In return she would receive a dozen sacks of coal as compensation for the attack on the Miner’s Repose. Varkash was also provided with one sack each from the other parties in recognition for his wise moderation of the proceedings.
“Dis parley is concluded,” the Varestian said in pinched but formal tones. “All parties will now give solemn oath affirming observance of duh truce agreed here today. By rules of parley, any who breaks their oath will be marked for death togedder wid any who stand in their defence.”
“So affirmed,” the Electress stated.
“Affirmed,” Chuckling Sim said, adding in Eutherian as he favoured Lizanne with an arched eyebrow, “or may the gods rend my house asunder.”
King Coal took longer to answer, his glowering gaze fixed on Atalina as a sheen of drizzle glittered on his still-quivering face. Lizanne wouldn’t have been overly surprised to see steam rising from his shaven head as he gave a terse, guttural, “Affirmed,” before turning and stomping from the theatre, his escort close behind. Julesin followed at a slight remove, his gaze sweeping across all the Furies as he passed by. He hid it well, but Lizanne saw the way his eyes lingered on her for the briefest second with a concentrated, detail-hungry focus unique to those of a particular profession.
“Could have been worse,” Melina commented as they made their way back to the Miner’s Repose. “One-tenth of the food will sting a bit, but it’s hardly going to break us.”
“You stupid bitch,” the Electress muttered, the drizzle beading broad features set in a preoccupied frown. “That farce didn’t change anything. At least now I know who’s twitching that fuckwit Kevozan’s strings.” She stopped, turning and fixing Lizanne with a steady gaze. “Time you earned your keep, my dear. I want that pasty-faced bastard dead by Ore Day.”
? ? ?
“It wasn’t us,” Demisol said as soon as the mansion-house door closed behind Lizanne.
“I know,” she said. “It appears we have a competitor.” She lifted the heavy sack from her shoulder and strode through the hall and into the dining-room.