Chapter 7
Blood tells true
‘STEADY, CALM, WAIT FOR THE right moment.’ Her trainer had said that in every knife fight they had together. Knives out, balanced foot, cautious on the approach, all key. The Knife apparently had similar training. They circled each other slowly, both measuring the other up.
“Who’s paying you?”
He smirked. “Sorry missy, that is privileged information and where you’re going it won’t be of any use.”
Confident bastard. Looking at his excellent disguise as a slightly wounded workman, she knew he was experienced. He had to have been following us. Damn it! I shouldn’t have let the priestess drape me in that hood. She spotted the quick shift of his rear foot and was able to parry the first thrust. She sliced up with her dagger but he had already shifted and parried with his off hand. They exchanged a handful of feints, attacks, and parries, circling fast.
Lebuin and Ditani finally got through the door. She glanced over to make sure they were getting out, and smiled as she saw the door closing. Turning her attention fully on her opponent she saw he was circling towards the door. I need to keep him occupied to give Lebuin time to get clear. In spite of the danger, she launched a series of attacks to keep him from trying to run and pursue them. The Knife managed to hold her off. It meant he got into a better position; he seized the opportunity without hesitation. Feinting with his left hand, he changed direction at the last moment, and dropping low scooped up the loose end of her initiates’ robe. Easily parrying her dagger, he yanked hard, pulling her off balance.
Damn it! These robes are going to get me killed! Gotta do something unexpected or I’m dead when his knife comes back around. Ticca was already off balance, so she let herself fall forward instead of fighting to stay standing as he expected. He had already reversed his knife and was trying for a neck strike, but without her counterweight he was also off balance. Ticca twisted and arched back, effectively dodging the strike. Unfortunately that exposed her mid-section and she was much too close. He delivered a vicious knee strike to her chest. The air was forced out of her in a loud yelp of pain and surprise. Releasing the robe, he sliced out, smiling wider as he managed to cut what felt like a bone-deep gash across her shoulder. Clenching her jaw on the pain, she managed to only squeak.
He smiled as she finally recovered from the maneuver by taking a couple of wild shots just to keep him occupied while she stepped past. OK, bastard, you’re not bad. She backed up a little and he let her go. Think you’re winning, don’t you... except I’m better than you. She glanced at her shoulder; a bit relieved, she saw it wasn’t as bad as it felt. It wasn’t a deadly or impairing wound, unless that blade had been poisoned. If his knives are poisoned I need to end this fast to get help in time. Almost laughing, she thought, Well, at least I’m already at the hospice. She smiled back at him and saw his eyes light up with joy. Yep, you think are winning. But you’re not as fast or as well-trained. “Not bad, but do try to keep up.”
Ticca relaxed her stance, controlled her breathing, and moved with a fluidity and grace that would make any dancer jealous. Stepping forward, she delivered a series of thrusts and cuts, and he parried every one. She didn’t give him time to riposte. She kept thrusting and cutting, faster and faster, as she warmed to the fight. He started backing away from the flurry of blows and she stepped forward with him, never stopping the attacks. He managed to get a riposte in about every third strike. She easily parried those and followed through with her own riposte. She smiled and looked him in the eye as the attacks continued. Finally his eyes showed real fear.
He had backed all the way to the wall. Sweat was pouring down his face. She paused. “Care to reconsider?”
“To hell with you, bitch!” He feinted left, but she saw his right moving to throw. She ducked under the thrown knife, thrusting up with her dagger and cutting the wrist of his extended hand. He was totally exposed; she simply reacted, knocking his knife wide and burying her blade to the hilt in his heart. Quickly stepping back, she pulled her knife out and let him fall face-first to the floor.
Backing up a few more steps she checked the room for more enemies. The only people in the room were a handful of patients, all stock still, mesmerized by the fight, and two acolytes. She let herself breathe a little before sitting down on an empty cot. She didn’t put the knives away; she just rested her wrists on her knees dangling them in her hands. Two days, two kills. This one was at least a reasonable fight.
An acolyte approached cautiously. She brought her knife up quickly before dropping it again. “Lady, do you need me to look at your wound?” He looked like he would try to fly away if she moved.
Looking at her shoulder, she saw the blood was running well but slowing. Very gently and softly she replied, “Yes please, and do you have a rag I can clean my knives with?”
He moved to her side and handed her a square of cloth. She wiped and cleaned her blades while he inspected the wound. “I need to see it better; can you remove your shirt?”
She stood, shedding the initiate’s robe onto the next cot. She then took her belt off and placed it on the robe. Finally Ticca turned her back and removed the shirt, and grabbing the towel he offered she wrapped it around her bare chest; then she sat back down, pulling the cot with her equipment close enough to grab it fast if needed.
Another acolyte started towards the body but she called him off. “No, don’t touch him, I want to inspect him first.” The acolyte obeyed and went to help the other patients.
Just as the first acolyte finished wrapping her shoulder with clean white cotton bandages the priestess came back through the door, her rod still glowing green.
“He’s done, Holiness; unfortunately he didn’t want to talk.”
The priestess approached and inspected the bandaging. “Is it a major wound?”
“No, just sliced up the skin. I’ve had worse.”
“Perhaps, but I think I can help.” She lightly rested her hand on the shoulder and chanted a prayer. Soft warmth spread, and the pain eased considerably. “That will speed the process. In a day you can take the bandage off and it should be near fully healed.”
“My thanks, Holiness.” Ticca stood, dropping the towel and making the acolyte squeak a quick goodbye and rush off. She managed to not laugh, barely. Slipping her shirt on, she grabbed the belt. “I presume Lebuin is safe?”
The priestess nodded. “I set them on the Delivery Channel dressed as workers. They should have no problem making it to the Blue Dolphin via the docks. You can meet them there in about two marks.”
Ticca thought about the situation for a moment and it felt good all around. “Thank you, I am worried, but I doubt they’ll be watching the shipyards for workers.” Settling her belt into place she stepped over to the dead Knife. She bent down and rolled him over.
He had four knives, a few coins in a cloth purse, and that was it. Searching him thoroughly yielded nothing more. The knives he had been using looked familiar. She tried to place them. Picking one up, she saw it was slightly longer than a dagger but still a bit shorter than the short sword she had fought with. It was single-edged and the hilts were a series of knotted black cotton bands over ivory or bone. These look like those knives my Uncle and Trainer talked about. What were they called? She thought for a moment and then it came back. Odassi! The fighting knives of that group called Nhia-Samri who were pushing the pressure points to keep the anger high and the war going where my Uncle lost his arm. She looked at them a bit closer and then put them down. It might be, but this more likely one of the imitations Knives like to use to scare people; he didn’t fight in the style my Trainer showed me they use.
“He must have followed us from the Temple; I bet he was going to try to get into the hospice when we left.”
“He might have done that after we left and then guessed at how you got out. He didn’t get close until about a quarter-mark after we left the Temple.”
Smart priestess; that is a pretty good observation. She thought it over. “True, that is also a likely scenario. Either way I still don’t know who is backing this, nor do I have a place to start.”
The priestess looked a little uncomfortable. “There is one thing I can do.”
Ticca looked at her with interest. “What more is there?”
The priestess called for a bottle, a straight needle and surgical thread. “I can give you a blood compass.”
I have heard of those, but no one ever said or even hinted that a servant of Dalpha would be able, much less willing, to make one. It would be very good to answer a few questions. “Holiness, that would aid me greatly.”
The priestess received the items she called for. She quickly tied the fine thread to the needle and pushed that through the bottle stopper. Bending down to the dead man, she rolled the needle in his blood. She then carefully inserted the needle into the bottle. As she closed the stopper, she sang a mournful chant into the bottle, her lips practically touching the rim and her breath fogging the inside of the glass. The stopper jumped from her fingers, seating itself very deep into the bottle’s neck with a slight hiss. The bottle glowed red for a moment, and when the light faded the fog on the glass had cleared completely. The needle hanging on the thread held firmly towards the door.
The priestess handed her the bottle. “This will last for three marks. After that the traces it follows will be too faint. It will lead you back on the path of his life.”
Ticca took the bottle reverently. “Holiness, I know what it means to make this. I shall remember it. If you don’t mind my asking, you’re very competent in skills I wouldn’t expect from a priestess. How did you learn these things?”
“I wasn’t always a priestess.” She pulled out of her robes a lovely old dagger with wings for a crossguard. The hilt was a carved piece of ivory with intertwining leaves and flowers, the pommel a nearly-closed oval of silver also engraved with the intertwining vines. “I am Boadua of Mostill Valley; Dagger, priestess, in service to the Great Lady Dalpha.”
Ticca took in the dagger then looked into the older woman’s eyes; there was life, cunning, and experiences untold in their brown depths. Ticca touched her dagger. “I am Ticca of Rhini Wood, Dagger in service to Journeyman Lebuin of House Caerni and the Guild of Lord Argos.” After the moment passed Ticca grinned. “That’s why the Great Lady called you for this task, why you brought us here and how you knew he was a threat.”
The priestess smiled wider, nodded, and put the dagger back under her robes. “It was some time ago. I am pleased I still have some of the skills.”
Ticca squared off to the experienced Dagger and put her arms out. “Sister, your service honors me and your name.”
The priestess took Ticca’s arms in hers. “And you have served well this day. Now continue with your charge, stay sharp, and may the Lady watch over you.”
Releasing her arms, the priestess winked and turned to the task of cleaning up the scene. Watching Boadua efficiently taking command, she heard her Uncle’s voice remind her, ‘Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world, but Daggers don’t have that problem.’ Ticca set the bottle down and pulled her cloak out of her pouch. Shaking it out, she put it on and pulled it well over her shoulders so it could be pulled closed in front when she chose. Taking the bottle, she nodded farewell to the priestess. “Stay sharp.” Being very cautious for more watchers, or archers in hidden places, she left the hospice. She was fairly certain there were no spies watching. Stay sharp indeed. Just ‘cause I don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not there. As my Uncle always reminded me, ‘Daggers who are paranoid live to tell tales.’
The path the bottle led was not unexpected at first. The Knife had indeed followed them from the Temple, moving back and forth from one hiding spot to another. It took longer than she liked to get back to the Temple due to the many zigzags. A full mark and a half had past. At the Temple she found he had not gone inside it but had been across the street, obviously observing both entrances. Must have followed us on a hunch or got some warning we were no longer there. From the Temple on it was a very simple path. He had come from a side street that paralleled the market. She followed his route to the merchant quarter. Ironically she found herself crossing Gold Street not more than three blocks from the hospice; he had come through an alley that led through a series of paths. The sun was already down and twilight was growing dim when she found what she hoped to find. Ticca wrapped herself in her cloak and moved through the dim shadows, when the blood compass indicated a nondescript door in the side of a house.
She circled the house and found that he had come from the opposite direction and stopped in the house. It was a nice rich merchant’s house with two wings and two stories on a side street to Silver Road, with a large front yard and carriage round. What made it interesting was not the perfectly painted shutters, nor the very rich colored-glass double doors, but the fact that he had used the alley entrance, as had many others. The front of the house struck her as just that: A front for something else. She carefully left the area, making sure she hadn’t been seen coming or going. I need to think this through. This is where a Hand would live. I need to find out which Hand and who his clientele are likely to be.
Once Ticca was clear of the area, she found a trash heap and broke the bottle there, leaving only scattered fragments. She took the needle and stopper with her. Breaking the string, she rubbed the needle in the dirt for a moment then threw it into another alley. Finally, the stopper went on a roof many blocks later. May your afterlife give you all you earned, but I will not be one to keep you from it longer.
Using the shadows, she remained vigilant for all observers and possible assailants the way back to the Blue Dolphin. She approached from the city path and spent extra time trying to find any hint of spying. She couldn’t find a single lookout. This is wrong. There has to be an observer. This is the one place I would go for sure. So it is the best point to get a lead on Lebuin’s location. Approaching by roof, she moved cautiously, keeping her cloak around her.
She had just about decided there really was no watcher when she realized that the roof next to her had a couple of tiles lifted slightly. There you are. It isn’t paranoia if they really are after you. Bet you have all sides covered too. She moved back silently. She realized her boots were not making any sounds at all. These keep getting more and more useful. She moved smoothly away and then dropped into an alley.
Well, they know I am going to go in there. By now they might be worried that the Knife hasn’t reported back. I hope Lebuin made it before they started watching, or even better that they didn’t recognize him. Thinking it over, she couldn’t think of a way into the building, other than flying, that could go unnoticed. Shrugging to herself, she pulled the cloak back, exposing the bloody bandage and affected a convincing limp as she stepped out to the street and simply walked in plain sight to the door. She imitated being wounded and trying to hide it. Kind of silly pretending to pretend not to be wounded; but people see what they expect, and this will help make them feel a bit more confident in my lack of skills.
Once inside, the smoke and sounds of the bar made her feel welcome and hungry. The smoke burned her nose, as it had for the last few weeks. Whoever likes that odd herb is still here. I wonder what it is about it that they like so much, because it doesn’t smell all that pleasant to me. At the right-hand community table sat Lebuin and Ditani, talking and drinking. They were smiling and looked to be just fine, so she kept up the pretending to pretend and turned left, limping slightly to her own table. The table had changed; attached to the dagger holder was a metal coin. The coin was engraved with a few birch trees in the background and a pack of hunting hounds sitting looking straight out at her. She couldn’t help it — some tears came to her eyes.
Sitting down, she unlatched the coin from the dagger holder and traced the etching with her fingers. The hounds were the same as the ones on her dagger; the coin was in the exact same style as her dagger. This was my Uncle’s when he was a Dagger here; Genne must have kept it all these years. Holding back the tears, she put the coin back in the clasp, which was connected to the dagger holder by a pair of small screws. She pulled her dagger out and let it flip around her hand once as she laid it flat on the table.
Before she could signal she wanted something, a serving girl set a hot cup of arit in front of her from a tray of many drinks. “Care for dinner, Ticca?” The girl was eyeing her bandage with a concerned look.
“Yes please, thank you for the arit too. Would you let Genne know I’d like to see him when he has a moment?” The girl nodded and moved off, with a final glance at the bloody bandage, to deliver the other drinks on her platter.
Ticca watched the room for enemies. Some of the other Daggers, having already noticed her condition and weariness, had started to scan the room themselves. Seeing the already active scanning, her Uncle’s voice echoed, ‘Mess with one Dagger and you mess with them all.’ Time to get a little help, Ticca thought, and minutely nodded to the Daggers who caught her eye; in turn, they raised an eyebrow very slightly and she shifted her eyes sideways, idly running her hand over her dagger. When they signaled acknowledgment, she signaled that the inn was under observation; with a possible threat of Knife strike, and they grew even more alert. It didn’t take long before all the experienced Daggers in the room had received and acknowledged the warning. There were three with daggers out that did not know the code; these were vouched for by one Dagger or another. One of us will get to them and give them the code — good to know who is experienced. Smiling, she thought of the more surprising Dagger history she had to memorize under her Uncle’s guidance. I would love to see their faces when they are told our traditions extend back beyond the known histories and into legends. The Daggers slowed their drinking, and were inconspicuously sizing up the other patrons. Ticca joined in the exercise and by the time her dinner came out all the twenty-three non-regular customers had been identified and the Daggers were watching for any sign of trouble. Now maybe I can relax a little. No Knife will ever attack in the Dolphin again, and any idiot trying to be a Knife will not like a room full of alert Daggers.
As she ate, four of the non-regular customers left. Everyone else appeared to be enjoying the evening.
Genne came over, taking the other wall seat again. “Ya wann’d chat? Don’ worry ‘bout issues, ain’t allowed.”
“I know. I just I need a bath.” Raising her hyly mug and blocking the view of her mouth from the room, she added softly, “And a room close to mine,” before taking a swallow of the hyly.
Genne looked at her for a moment. “After yer bath, then.” His eyes darted to Lebuin and Ditani then back to her. “We’ll settle up inna yer room fer yer expenses.”
He really doesn’t miss much. Touching the metal coin on the dagger holder, she said, “I can’t thank you enough for this.”
“Dat, well…” He rubbed his neck. “Yer Uncle din’t ‘ave a chance ta collect it. I was a lad but I liked yer Uncle fine. Me pa said it migh’ be needed again. So he stowed it. Took o’bit o’huntin’ ta fine it. Glad I am ta have it out.”
Ticca nodded, holding back more tears. Genne politely ignored the emotions, or maybe he was doing the same. He got up and went back to the bar without saying another word. Safe and comfortable, she took her time eating and drinking. It wasn’t until she was just about to go up for her bath that Ditani and Lebuin spotted her table. She made as covert a “stay put” signal as she could, and thankfully they didn’t move to follow. Getting up, she limped past them towards the stairs; when they looked she moved her eyes from them to Genne and back again as she went up the stairs to her room. Lady, let one of them understand that. Course Genne probably has a means to that end too.
In her room Ticca dropped everything but her knives and grabbed some clean, sturdy clothes; she closed the window shutters and then went out to the baths. One room was open with a hot, steaming tub waiting. She slipped inside, locking the door. Stripping, she put the boots on the rack, and her clean clothes over them. The knives she kept close at hand. Tossing the dirty clothes out the drop hole, she happily eased into the tub. It was wonderfully hot. She scrubbed everything, even dunking her head to rinse her hair. Then she soaked until the water grew tepid. Regretfully she stepped out, and, not feeling any pain from her shoulder, she peaked under the bandage; there was no sign that there had ever been a wound. She picked up her boots and kissed each one. “Thank you, Lady, for these little wonders, I cannot think of any tool besides my dagger that could be as useful.” After dressing, she made her way back to her room.
Ticca was putting some things away when she heard a knock on her door. “Yes?”
“Ya asked for some hot arit.” Genne’s voice was a welcome sound. She opened the door and there stood Genne holding a large platter with an arit serving carafe, over a small candle to keep it hot, and some brown curly pastries. Behind him Lebuin and Ditani were just coming up the stairs. She held the door open as they all came into her room. Closing the door, she locked it behind them. Ditani took in the room with a nod of satisfaction.
Genne put the platter down on the table and poured a cup for everyone. Grabbing a pastry, he sat down and made himself comfortable. “Now dese are worth every pence.” Closing his eyes, he drank a little arit and bit into the pastry. It almost looked like he had been transported to heaven. So everyone followed his example. The flavor was sweet, with a hint of chocolate, and something else that left a warm feeling that spread from the mouth out.
Lebuin looked shocked. “There is sharre in these.”
Genne smiled. “Yep.” Looking at Ticca, he asked, “What can I do fer ya?”
Ticca took another bite before answering. “We need to hole up for a little bit and plan our next move.”
“So ya bring yer trouble ta my place?”
“Come on Genne, you know as well as I that no one would dare attack us here. Any Knife that tried would be cut down by his own kind at the mere mention of the idea.”
Genne just nodded. “Who di’ attack you?”
“A Knife, and he is dead, but we are being watched.”
Sighing, Genne looked at the three of them. Then an almost happy smirk came to his lips. “Not like dis’ is da furs’ time. An’ dis’ place is always watched.”
“Is there a room close by we can have for say, three weeks?”
“Yep, two doors down, same side. Fourteen crosses fer a cycle, wi’ meals an’ such.”
“Done.” Looking at Lebuin, she said, “M’lord, if you will, please pay him now.”
Lebuin pulled his coin purse out and handed over the silver coins.
“Ya need’n more?”
She looked at Lebuin and Ditani and sniffed the air. “Yes, I am pretty sure they’d like to clean up.” Looking at them, both men nodded thanks. “Please provide baths. Also,” she looked Genne square in the eye, “for what you overcharged them this morning, how about finding them something a little more comfortable to wear?”
Genne actually looked embarrassed for a moment. “I dinna ask for dat. He put it out.”
“True, but you didn’t have to take it all.” She winked at him. “This will make up for the misunderstanding.”
Genne stood and motioned for Lebuin and Ditani to follow.
She leaned back with the sweet pastry and the arit. “M’lord, when you are done cleaning up, would you care to plan tonight or wait for tomorrow?”
Lebuin looked at Ditani, who nodded slightly. “I think we need to discuss some things tonight, if you agree?”
“That would be best. Please, when you’re done come back here and we’ll all share some stories.”
The three men left her alone. With them gone, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the comfort of her own room. The pastries helped with that immeasurably.
It has surely been a busy few days. Remembering that she’d thought this morning she would take a few days to relax before putting her Dagger out, she laughed. Swallowing the last of the arit in her mug, she stood up and stretched. Grabbing her gear, she put away her belt and her pack in the armoire. Taking all of her knives, she pulled out a whetstone from her pack and went to the table.
She had just finished cleaning and sharpening the last knife when she heard a soft knock. Standing, she went to the door, knife still in hand. “Who’s there?”
“Ticca it’s us.” It was Lebuin’s muffled voice.
She opened the door and let them in and checking the hall was empty, she closed and locked it behind them. Genne had been pretty efficient and had provided simple loose pants and some clean-smelling brown cotton shirts. They both wore their original belts and gear over the long shirts. Looking at Lebuin’s belt, it was obvious he had only worn it a few times before today. He had a silly cloth coin purse dangling from it, screaming to be stolen by the most trivial of cutpurses. Of course he is a wizard, and if he was still dressed as I first saw him I think most cutpurses would think that was just bait. The knife Lebuin sported opposite the “steal me” purse was a laughable, cheap steel knife obviously bought more for show than for any real purpose. Lebuin was easily every bit the pampered and pompous rich kid. His original clothes were very nice, but, like the simple fare he was wearing now, still hung loosely from his near-skeletal frame. Still, there was something about his face and eyes that gave her pause. He would be amazingly handsome if he was a bit more filled out, with that brown hair and the piercing green eyes of his. I feel as if there is something potent hiding under that beard of his.
Turning her attention to Ditani, she was surprised by the mixed feelings she had about him. He looks like a typical Karkaian, but there is something more there. The belt he wore was of excellent condition and well-cared for. It was by no means new, but still looked in top condition. The two knives he had were the longer variety favored in Karkai which were almost dagger-length. They were also double-edged but with a shallow grip and narrow hilts. In spite of being a servant, she was sure he was more used to giving orders than taking them, although he affected no outward sign of this. He is much more than he lets on.
The two men stood there for a moment; Lebuin was just a couple inches taller than she was, while Ditani stood another inch or two taller than Lebuin. As they both stood there with a blank look, wondering what to do, she was struck by how close they looked to another pair of men she knew, and an idea began to form in the back of her head. “There is more arit and pastries if you want.” She pointed at the larger comfortable chairs. “Come, let’s figure out where we are and what you’d like to do next.”
Ditani stepped over to the table and with efficient servant-style action moved the whole platter to the smaller table between the comfortable chairs. She just slipped into a chair with her back to the window and waited.
Lebuin didn’t move; instead, his brows moved up and down and his eyes looked up at the ceiling as he thought things through. Ditani refilled her mug as well as two others and handed her another pastry. She nodded thanks, looking Ditani directly eye-to-eye, and waited. Ditani met her look straight on and didn’t glance down like a servant would. Ticca got a feeling that he was appraising her and found her admirably acceptable. You are not what you pretend, old man, but I’ll play along for now, until I know more.
Finally Lebuin looked at her. “Ticca, shouldn’t we be finding a less conspicuous place to plan? This has to be the most obvious place to find us. If there are more assassins they’ll come straight here first.”
He picks up fast. She nodded. “M’lord, you are right in the details and incorrect in your conclusion. You must be unaware of what the Blue Dolphin is.”
“It’s an inn where Daggers hire out of, merchants stay in, and workmen come for drink at night.”
She nodded. “Yes, that is all true. It is also a Dagger Home.”
Lebuin’s blank look told her he had never heard of that. Not really surprising, and, unless you work with Daggers, it won’t really make sense. Ditani didn’t say anything but he didn’t have the blank look that Lebuin sported. Her Uncle’s voice reminded her, ‘There are only two kinds of people that understand Daggers: Daggers, and the enemy; everyone else has a second-hand opinion.’ “M’lord, you may relax; a Dagger Home is guarded by all the Daggers who live and hire out of it. It will not be violated for fear of retribution. The last Knife who tried to kill in a Dagger Home was sent back in multiple small boxes and that launched an all-out attack by every Dagger in all the lands in every city against the Knives’ Guild. Their entire Guild was nearly destroyed and most of the best Knives were dead before they apologized and swore to never again violate a Dagger Home. No soldier, Blade, Knife, guard, or spy will be anything but polite and respectful of privacy inside a Dagger Home.”
“Are you saying Daggers are better than Blades, spies and Knives?”
“Most Daggers will tell you that Daggers are the best there are. It’s true that Daggers are forged over years of training and experience; however, there are masters of other professions just as cunning, experienced and deadly. There are many more Daggers than there are of any other mercenary for hire. Also, Daggers have an ancient, traditional tie to each other. Our trainers instill a deep love of being a Dagger as well as a total commitment to the Dagger ideals of honor, courage and commitment. Daggers are more than friends or family, we are united by our commitment to each other and a history older than you would believe, going back into the time of legends. The soldiers, guards and Blades respect each other and talk about being a band of brothers. But Daggers mean it. We have a code, we have our secrets and we look out for each other. All others know this and tread lightly because of it.”
Lebuin still looked unconvinced, but he walked over and sat down. As he took the mug of arit offered by Ditani, he stared at her. “You killed the mugger in the alley last night in mere seconds. You probably killed the Knife in the hospice too, didn’t you?”
“How do you know about the alley?” She didn’t bother to confirm the latter.
Looking a little embarrassed, he took a drink before answering. “I was watching from the Guild library. I was going to help, but you killed him before I could cast a single spell.”
Ditani was looking back and forth between them. “You mean you knew her before today?”
Lebuin nodded. “I knew of her, that is why I chased her in the marketplace. I wanted to meet her, I thought …” he trailed off and didn’t continue.
Amused, Ticca prodded, “You thought what, M’lord?”
Lebuin leaned back. “Well, I thought maybe I could introduce myself, I really hadn’t thought much past that. It’s just you dress so amazingly, and the way you went from victim to assailant… I knew you had to be something special. I felt a strong need to meet you. I was more right than I knew.”
Ticca’s cheeks felt warm and she knew she was blushing. She noticed Ditani had an odd look on his face, and was covertly taking in the size of her room. You know what this room and that table mean, don’t you, old man? Why are you hiding it? “Thank you.” Time for work, concentrate on the problem. “We have a murky situation. Let me summarize it and if anything is missing we’ll all add in the missing pieces we know, nothing held back, no secrets, your lives may depend on it, agreed?”
Both men looked down and thought about it. They have almost the same habits, and given their features, they might even be family, Ticca mused. Finally, they looked at each other and said, “Agreed,” in turn, Lebuin first. Agreed as far as you are willing to go, at least. Hopefully what you hold back won’t be too critical. Ticca thought about it for a moment then looked at Lebuin. Digging into what she knew about the Guild from her training, she filled in a few gaps in what Ditani had told her earlier.
“You just earned your badge of Journeyman, and have to go work in the field for some time looking for interesting ideas or uses for magic, you have some more important or powerful rival at the Guild who is hiring Knives to do what he cannot be caught doing himself. You never expected to be out in the world, and haven’t prepared for it in any meaningful way.”
Lebuin nodded. “Magus Cune isn’t hiring Knives, he placed a sizable bet that I would survive with a ‘lower class person of influence’.”
“Which has the same results, just this would at least look like a friendly gesture. If you don’t know the person is disrespectable or criminal, really a sinister move, cunning, too… and you,” she continued, looking at Ditani, “just swept into town a couple of days ago with your master, and planned to have a pre-arranged meeting with a Duke about something, but he never told you what… Your master disappeared, without a trace, missed the meeting, and now has you, Lord Lebuin, and agents of this Duke out scouring the city looking for him.”
Ditani nodded. “All of those things are true, and Master Lebuin offered to help, as he is in need of a path and hoped Magus Vestul might provide some guidance.”
Interesting that you admit that you knew Lebuin’s motives were not entirely altruistic. “Got it. Now as to myself, I have been working here at the Blue Dolphin for about six cycles for various merchants. I just finished a commission for my previous patron last night. Which, by the way, was why I was attacked and had to kill the Knife in the alley; he was involved with that affair and was going to try to capture and kill me. I was planning on taking some time to relax, when you were nearly taken out by that Knife in the market. From there I think we know the events pretty clearly.”
“All except what you were doing today, and what happened to the Knife in the hospice.”
“Yes, M’lord, true. Well we fought, he lost. I back-tracked the Knife to the location of his commission, and then I verified that this place was being watched by the elements who sent him. I pretended to be wounded so they would underestimate me.”
Both Lebuin and Ditani leaned back in their chairs to consider that information. Ditani broke the silence first. “You haven’t mentioned what you found out about Master Vestul.”
“Ah, yes. Well I did track him. He did everything he told you he was going to do. Then on his way back here he was killed by a Knife, and his body was disposed of using Night’s Fire.”
Something passed over Ditani’s face. He doesn’t look very surprised. Ditani’s features degraded as he took in the news, shifting to looking stricken. Covering his face, he sobbed quietly with tears spilling down his cheeks. Lebuin put his hand on the other man’s shoulder and simply waited. Lebuin suddenly looks very wise. These are a strange pair. The fresh recruit officer taken under the wing of the old sergeant friend, that’s the basic relationship. But, there is more here. Ditani wept harder and fuller when he though Lebuin was dying, and this display for Magus Vestul is more like weeping for a friend who died after a prolonged illness. Not unexpected, but still hard to take.
After some time, Ditani regained his composure and sat drinking his arit and eating a pastry while Lebuin and Ticca swapped details of their recent experiences.
“I understand why you took those boots off the man, but I can’t figure out why you just left them at the hospice.”
Pointing at her boots that she still wore, she asked, “What are you talking about? These are the boots here.”
“No, they can’t be. The boots you had on in the hospice were patterned shades of grey that would have matched that cloak the attacker was wearing perfectly. These boots are amazing too, but they are tan and brown fur, which is a good match for what you have on now.”
Ticca looked at the boots. Could they have yet another marvel? First they fit, then they climb, then they heal, then they move as silent as bare feet, and now he is saying they change to match what I am wearing? Lady, where did these come from?! Taking them off, Ticca tossed them to Lebuin. “You’re the wizard, can you tell me? I swear these are the boots I took off the man, the same boots I have been wearing since last night.”
Lebuin caught the boots. “These feel unbelievable…” He looked them over closely. “They are amazingly clean considering you have been wearing them around town.” He turned them over and examined the making. “I didn’t realize we had the same-sized feet.” He slipped them on and stood.
“You’re right, they are amazing to wear.”
Ticca was watching in shock as the now obviously larger boots shifted almost imperceptibly to a darker shade of brown, matching well with the pants Lebuin was wearing. Oh my, they do change to match. I hope I can get them off him now.
Lebuin sat back down and took them off easily, handing them over as if he handled such marvels every day of the week. I guess he is used to these kinds of things.
“Truly useful.” He watched her closely as she put them back on. “Must be a simple spell based on coloration sampling. They also have the same cleaning incantations I use. The resizing to match the wearer is a really interesting trick. When I get my powers back I would love if you’d let me examine them a little more closely.”
“Only if you promise to not harm them. They might be simple for you, but to me they are a Godsend and I thank the Lady for them.”
“Oh of course, I just need to walk the enchantments for a few weeks to see if I can understand what they are doing, and possibly to learn a new pathway. That man who attacked you was certainly well-equipped. Do most Knives have cloaks that blend with shadows, boots like this, and burn to nothing when killed?”
Ticca snapped straight up, spilling some arit. “What do you mean burn to nothing when killed?”
“Well after you left, something in his pouch caught fire and it spread to consume his whole body. Leaving just the cloak, which being magical in nature might be a bit harder to damage than ordinary items.”
“He had Night’s Fire in his pouch? Is that what was smoking?”
“I’m sorry but I thought you said fire in the night earlier. What is Night’s Fire?”
“It’s a tool used by Knives that burns only the victim and any organic items, leaving almost nothing but some ash which is easily blown or washed away.”
“Interesting, must be a rather unique set of chemicals. I’d love to get a sample. But, yes, I believe you describe exactly what happened.”
Ditani had been staring silently past them both for some time. Standing up, he pointed and asked accusingly, “Where did you get that pouch?”
Looking back at her bed, she saw her pouch was sitting on the far side by the armoire. “I got that from the same Knife that attacked me last night. Same man who had these boots and the cloak Lord Lebuin has hidden in his room.”
Ditani rushed past her and picked up the pouch, examining it carefully. “This is Master Vestul’s pouch. I have put it away for him many times.”
Standing up, Ticca stepped over and looked at the pouch in Ditani’s hands as if new again. “Well it was on the Knife that I killed, he must have taken it from Magus Vestul when he killed him. I am very sorry, as he was a Knife, I figured there was zero chance of anything valuable being returned to a proper owner. So I took what I thought might be of use.”
Ditani looked at the boots. “Those must be Magus Vestul’s, too! They were a gift from an old friend of his. He treasured them and always put them up neatly.”
Looking down, Ticca nodded. Damn. Well they were nice while they lasted. I can’t keep them, though. “That explains why the Knife was so well-equipped; he had just taken all the best a powerful wizard had to offer. Ditani, I am truly sorry. These then belong to Vestul’s kin, or to you as his servant.” Taking the boots off, she held them out to Ditani.
Ditani looked at her for a moment and she could see in his eyes, he knew the code she had to adhere to. He shook his head and looked down to hide a smile of satisfaction. “Magus Vestul had no kin in the world and they would better serve you.” He held out the pouch. “This pouch included. So by the right of blood revenge I give them to you freely. They are yours.”
He is an odd fellow, for sure. Thank you, Lady, I really didn’t want to lose these, and he has given me a clear conscience in keeping them. Ticca slipped the boots back on. “Thank you, truly. Yet I am still confused. I don’t understand how a Knife could kill such a powerful wizard. Until today I thought, like everyone, that you were mostly invulnerable to weapons.”
Lebuin was quiet for a few minutes and then he said quietly, “There are ways to penetrate a mage’s defenses.”
Ticca took the pouch back to the chair and cautiously opened it to the compartment with the papers. “If this is Magus Vestul’s pouch then these are his notes, or letters, or something. They might give us a clue as to why he was targeted... for Ditani’s sake.” Handing them to Lebuin, Ticca sat down as he started to examine them.
Ditani sat back down too and looked over the papers with Lebuin. “These are the letters from the Duke. The others look like the master’s quick notes, the ones he took before he would commit more careful notes to his research journal.” As Lebuin moved through the papers, obviously able to read what they said, Ditani looked startled. “And those are the notes that Magus Gezu had me take to Master Vestul a few years back.”
Lebuin looked up. “Well, these are intriguing hints at some significant discoveries. The letters from the Duke indicated Magus Vestul was coming here to share his latest research with the Duke for safety. Don’t ask, I don’t know what that means. It is just that the Duke in one letter agrees to ensure their safety. These papers were going to be handed over to the Duke.”
“What about Master Vestul’s key? He put it in the pouch when we left in the morning.”
Ticca shook her head. “It isn’t there now, most likely; it was left in the alley where the Knife burned up. It couldn’t be destroyed by Night’s Fire.”
Lebuin shook his head. “No, it wasn’t there. The rain washed the ash away almost instantly and I took the cloak. Are you sure it isn’t stuck in a seam?”
Ticca shook her head, then stopped. I didn’t pull everything out of the vial compartment. “No, not exactly, but I didn’t search completely.” She covertly shifted to the vial compartment while putting the pouch on the table between them. Opening it, she pulled the vial case out, as well as a few scraps of paper; and there under the paper was a Dolphin key similar to her own. Holding it up triumphantly, she exclaimed, “And here is his key then, as it isn’t likely to belong to the Knife. Problem is we don’t know the code to get in.”
“I do,” Ditani said.