The Blade Bearers (Blade and Bone Book 6), page 13
Meyer started to pick his way through, but Pippin grabbed his sleeve and pulled. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here,” the boy whispered. “This looks dangerous.”
“It’s not dangerous.”
“They’re all looking at us.”
“And they will until he welcomes us,” Meyer said.
“He?”
“Just wait.”
Meyer worked his way to the high-backed booth in the far corner. There were only three people at it. The one in the middle was a tall, lanky man with graying hair and hard eyes that took in everything. The two people on either side of him immediately stiffened, and Meyer didn’t miss how one man’s hands slipped underneath the table. He was likely grabbing a crossbow and aiming it directly at Meyer.
“This is how you greet an old friend, Oscar?” Meyer asked, glancing to the two men.
Oscar Richter, the thief known as the Hand, rested his elbows on the table. He watched Meyer before he slipped a languid gaze over to Pippin. “He’s only gone for a few weeks, and you’ve already got yourself a new helper?”
Meyer didn’t turn to Pippin, but he didn’t need to. He felt him practically tighten completely. “If only this had been my choice. I have a feeling he’s the one responsible for assigning the boy to me.”
Oscar chuckled. “Sounds about right.” He made a quick motion with his hands, and the two men slid out of the booth immediately and took a seat at a nearby table. One man made no effort to disguise his crossbow, keeping it on the table, leveled at Meyer. “It’s been a long time, Meyer.”
“It has.” He took a seat, and Pippin stood behind him, still not relaxing. “You haven’t changed much, have you?”
Oscar’s eyes darted around. “Well, I’ve changed a little bit. I’m a tavern owner now.”
“I was sorry to hear about Annie’s passing.”
“I’m sure you were,” Oscar said, his voice low.
“I was. She was a good woman. Smart.”
“The best.” Oscar’s voice caught just a little.
Meyer didn’t know the details about what had happened to Annie, only that she’d been caught up in something after the witchcraft war had started. The details of her death had been mysterious, and though he was curious about them, he had not pressed Finn about it. It wasn’t his place. Finn had dug into it, Meyer was certain, and probably knew more about what had happened to her, partly because he couldn’t imagine Finn letting that drop. Annie was a friend to him as well.
“What are you doing here?” Oscar asked.
“It seems as if the rumors are true.” Meyer turned, putting his back to Oscar, which elicited a panicked look from Pippin. That was surprising. The boy realized how dangerous Oscar was? Maybe he did. It suggested that Pippin knew more about the workings inside Verendal than Meyer expected.
He surveyed the rest of the tavern and noticed that every single person was seated at their own table, several with a few others with them, but all were watching Oscar.
Meyer finally turned back to Oscar and set his hand on the table. “A real crew leader, aren’t you? But a little different than those who came before you.”
“Is that what this is about? I’m an honest businessman, Meyer. If you want to watch me, be my guest. I operate this tavern, several others, and—”
“I’m fully aware of what you do, Oscar. And we can both dispense with the idea that you’re an honest businessman. I know that you and Finn have an arrangement—”
“I have no arrangement with him.”
There was real heat in his words.
What had happened between Oscar and Finn?
They had been close. Before Meyer had taken Finn in and helped train him as an executioner, Finn’s mentor had been Oscar. He was the man who had taught Finn how to thieve and run the streets, and he had been the reason Finn had been caught in the first place. Were it not for his affection for Oscar, Finn probably would have escaped the kingdom’s notice and would never have been captured and brought to Meyer’s attention.
“You must have some arrangement,” Meyer said, lowering his voice to a whisper so that others nearby wouldn’t hear, “because otherwise you wouldn’t be permitted to operate the way you do.”
Oscar sat silently for a moment and then raised his hand. Within a second, one of the young, attractive waitresses slipped over to the table. She tousled Pippin’s hair and leaned toward Meyer, revealing a flash of cleavage.
Meyer chuckled and turned away. It had been a long time since something like that had tempted him.
“All she’s offering is ale,” Oscar said.
“Is that all?”
“That’s all she’s offering you. Are you too good for that?”
“I’m not. I’ve always enjoyed a good mug of ale.”
“We have the best here at the Wenderwolf.”
Meyer nodded. “I’ve heard it’s passable.”
“Passable?” The waitress glanced at Oscar. “Are you going to let him talk about your ale like that?”
“I don’t know that I have much of a choice,” Oscar said, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest. “This is Master Meyer, executioner for the king.”
“But the Hunter—”
“The Hunter is out of the city. And he asked his mentor to ensure stability here. It’s probably for the best. If anyone could keep the city humming, it would be him, wouldn’t it?” Oscar asked, his gaze lingering on Meyer.
“Ale would be fine,” Meyer said. He glanced over to Pippin. “Water for the boy.” When she left, he turned back to Oscar. “I need your help.”
“That’s what this is all about? You come in here, making subtle accusations—and I don’t think they’re all that subtle, since you’re about as light handed as an anvil—and now you want my help?”
Meyer sat for a moment. “I didn’t think I needed to make subtle accusations with you. If you want me to be more subtle, perhaps I could name the men you have here and leave it to you to determine what I know about them.” He glanced behind him. “I see Rocat Long, along with several of his junior-level associates at a table not too far from here. I didn’t realize the two of you were on friendly terms, but given the rumors about you, I suspect that ‘friendly’ isn’t quite the right word. ‘Respectful’ might be better. Then there’s Holz Petaca, and he’s got three others sitting with him. If you’d like, I can use their nicknames. I believe that’s how you prefer to operate.”
“So you know some of the men in the tavern,” Oscar said, shrugging. “Is that supposed to impress me? You’ve been at your job for a few decades, Meyer. You’re bound to get to know a few men.”
“But it’s not just a few men that I know in your tavern, Oscar,” he said, emphasizing his given name. Men like Oscar, along with the others Meyer had named, preferred to go by their nicknames. They felt like it gave them a measure of protection from the law. “It’s everybody here. Every one of these men has a crew. And all of them are sitting here, looking at me as if they’re waiting for your signal to jump. That’s more than just them being men in your tavern, isn’t it? That’s a sign of respect. It’s a sign of something that I had heard rumors about, but wasn’t sure if those rumors were true.”
And if they were, Meyer still wondered why Finn tolerated it.
How much information had Oscar fed him?
That didn’t seem quite right, though. The waitress had mentioned the Hunter, and she had done so in a way that hadn’t suggested she was worried about Finn or his presence in the tavern. She had said it in a way that sounded almost as if she had a familiarity with Finn.
What sort of arrangement did Finn have with Oscar?
He should have asked Finn before he’d left. Then again, neither of them had expected that Finn would be out of the city this long. Now it was down to Meyer to pick up the pieces and work backward to track what he needed and figure out why things had been happening the way they had.
“What are you needing from me?” Oscar asked, ignoring the comment.
“I’m needing organizational help. I figured that was something a man like yourself, a man who controls the crews here, might be able to do.”
“Not all the crews.”
“Because there have been too many people coming to the city?”
The waitress brought the ale over and set it in front of Meyer. She tousled Pippin’s hair again as she handed him the glass of water, before glancing at Oscar and then twirling away.
“Things have been a little unpredictable lately,” Oscar said. “Partly because the activity outside the city has been unpredictable.”
“That’s what I’d like to talk to you about,” Meyer said.
Oscar frowned. “You want to talk to me about activity outside the city? And here I thought you were more concerned about what was taking place inside it.”
“I think we need to be concerned about both. What happens outside ultimately impacts what happens inside. If we work together, we should be able to find a way to ensure that we—”
“Together?” Oscar leaned forward, his gaze lingering on Meyer for a long moment, and a smirk crossed his face. A long scar ran down one cheek, distorting his features somewhat. Meyer had never really learned what had happened to Oscar, though he hadn’t cared. The scar had been present the first time Meyer had ever met the man, and probably came from some thieving operation that had gone wrong. “I’m afraid I don’t see why we would work together.”
Meyer shrugged, and he glanced briefly toward Pippin. He needed to be more careful here. He didn’t want to draw any attention from the boy, and certainly didn’t want to aggravate Oscar, but he also felt it was time to push the issue.
He was still master executioner, after all, and that mattered in this city, regardless of what others might claim. Meyer had been in Verendal long enough to know it, how it operated, and what part he could play in it. At this point, it was time for him to have a much greater role than he’d had before.
“What did you and Finn have?”
Oscar blinked. “What’d we have?”
“You had some sort of arrangement. I’m sure of it.”
Oscar snorted and shook his head as he glanced over to the others in the tavern. He turned his attention back to Meyer. “You come in here and make accusations like that?” He kept his voice low, and there was menace to it.
Meyer knew it was dangerous for him to be in a place like this, surrounded by the people here, especially because he didn’t know how far Oscar might go if he felt he was being challenged.
“You know this is my establishment. You know the kind of men that are here.”
“I do know,” Meyer said. “And you know what kind of man I am, and the kind of man we both know. All I’m asking is that you extend the same courtesy to me that you extended him.”
“What courtesy do you think that is?” Oscar asked.
“I can’t say that I know. I’m just hoping the two of us can work out an arrangement. The affairs in the city remain complicated, and I fear that things are only going to get more complicated in the days to come. I don’t know what that might involve, nor do I know how you and I might have to interact, but it seems as if we will. And increasingly, I can’t help but feel as if you might need my help as well.”
He took a slow, steady sip of his ale. It really was good, much like Oscar had claimed. Every tavern owner liked to think they had the best ale. Finn certainly favored the Wenderwolf, though Meyer had always suspected that came from his experience here when he was younger, and how that tended to influence his choices.
“I’m an honest businessman, Meyer. There’s nothing I need from you at this point.”
“You might be an honest businessman, but these others?” Meyer flicked his gaze around. “Why, I don’t know what purpose they have in frequenting your establishment or what protections you’ve offered them, but I can say with certainty that you won’t be able to uphold your end of the bargain with them if you’re delayed by my Archers. Or perhaps I’ll have the Archers follow them out of the tavern and see what they might be doing. I might even offer up some security for you. An honest businessman and establishment like this, where there are such dangerous men lurking about…” He flashed a smile and leaned toward Oscar. “I do say that it’s unfortunate you have to suffer like that. I wouldn’t want you to be put in a predicament where you might have to take action you wouldn’t want. So…” Meyer sat back again, finished his ale, and set the empty mug on the table next to him. “Maybe what I should do is send the Archers to patrol the square. There are quite a few immigrants out there, so there would be reason for them to be paying attention to it.”
Oscar glowered at him. “You’re still a pain in my ass.”
“I’ve never been a pain in your ass. I can be, though.”
“What do you want?”
“Stability. Nothing more. I’m sure you and Finn had a way of ensuring some amount of stability. I’m asking for the same.”
“There’s not much that can be done outside the walls.”
“And in that, I think you’re wrong. There’s quite a bit that can be done—you just have to take an interest in it. We may see a mutual benefit if you do.”
Oscar snorted. “I see. I’m looking forward to when Finn returns.”
“I am too.”
Meyer pulled out a silver from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Thanks for the drink.” He got to his feet, nodded at Pippin, and made his way out of the Wenderwolf. Only once he was out on the street did he finally relax. Being in the tavern had left him more anxious than he had been in a while. It was a measure of his time away from the job that it made him that way. Then again, this was uncontrolled, and he had gone to Oscar’s base of operations, which had put him at a disadvantage. Meyer hadn’t known the full depths of the kind of work Oscar had been involved in, but now he had a better sense for that. But he still didn’t know what Oscar and Finn had agreed to.
It didn’t strike him as something Finn would’ve arranged. Everything he’d done had been coordinated, and everything had been done according to the law. Working with Oscar and agreeing to terms with him—including granting him a measure of safety and protection from the law—left Meyer thinking that perhaps he hadn’t known Finn as well as he thought he did.
“Master Meyer?” Pippin said. “I don’t really understand what just happened.”
Meyer stopped on the far side of the clearing, and he looked back at the Wenderwolf. “I’m not really sure what happened either. I’ve been trying to figure out what’s been going on in the city, and whether there might be a way for us to maintain peace as the refugees flood the place, so I made a dangerous agreement.”
“With a thief?”
“Oscar Richter is more than just a thief.” Meyer straightened, looked off into the distance, and knew where he needed to go. He wanted to get some tea from Lena. “Come along,” he said.
“Where to now?”
“Now we finish our errands, and we let him work.”
“What do you think he’s going to do?”
“If I’m right, he’s going to continue what he’s been doing,” Meyer said.
“Crime?”
“Maybe some measure of crime. Nothing that would raise the attention of the Archers. It’s what we need from him, though.”
“And what is that?” Pippin asked.
“A way of organizing everything happening here.”
Was he really going to use a crime leader to organize the city?
Even so, the alternative was worse. He could deal with those consequences later. For now, he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake. He was trusting Finn and his connection to Oscar to make sure that what he had chosen to do, and what he had asked of him, would keep the city safe.
Chapter Thirteen
HONAAZ
Honaaz tried to understand the ship’s movement, but he couldn’t.
The fucking ships were not making any sense to him. He tried to figure out what purpose they had in simply staying out at sea, not sailing closer to shore, but he hadn’t come up with anything. There was no pattern he could make out, and unless they were readying an attack—something he could not tell with his talisman—he started to wonder if they were just waiting for them.
“Fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Lily looked up from where she was carving. She was seated on a bench along the end of the dock, near enough to the water that she was close to him, but not so close that he would irritate her as she worked. That was one thing Honaaz didn’t want to do. He wanted to give Lily the opportunity to focus on her carving, and not interrupt in any way that would cause her problems. At the same time, he did like having her around, partly for his own peace of mind, and partly because he felt as if she might need him.
“What is it?” Lily asked.
“These fucking ships,” Honaaz said, waving his hand. “I can’t tell if they’re doing anything, and it’s really starting to get on my nerves.”
Lily laughed softly, and then turned her attention back to the carving she was working on. Honaaz watched her trace the bone with her long, sharp knife. He had been curious about the knife, wondering how it could carve bone as easily as it seemed to, but she didn’t say anything about it. Then again, she never seemed to sharpen it, either, so he couldn’t help but feel as if that knife had some secret to it, some story he’d love to hear.
“They’re Alainsith,” Lily said. “And different from Jal.”
“They haven’t come any closer, and they’ve been allowing us to continue our preparations.”
“Preparations.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like we’re making preparations. It feels like the only thing we’re doing is biding our time, giving them an opportunity to build their forces.”
“Fucking Reims has his plan.”
