The Last Eternal Book Six, page 8
Dekker blinked. “Who says I’m not relaxed?”
“Well, my floor for starters,” the woman said. “If you relax on it anymore, I’ll have to replace my rug.”
Dekker frowned, staring down at the rug he’d been pacing on then back at her. “Just how long is this damned man of yours going to take? What did he stop off for a bite?”
“For about the thousandth time, Celes is a big city,” Pearl said. “Erwin will be back soon. Meanwhile, why don’t you stop waging war on my floors and sit down? You’re making me nervous with all that damned pacing.”
She didn’t look much nervous to him—in fact, Dekker thought that it would take quite a bit to make the formidable woman nervous. He sighed, frustrated. “And just how long am I supposed to wait?”
“As long as it takes,” Pearl said.
Dekker let out an angry growl. “That’s not good enough,” he said, jabbing his finger at the door. “Ungr’s out there somewhere, alone. We need to help him.”
“And I told you, Erwin is—”
“Erwin,” Dekker hissed. “I don’t know Erwin from anybody. How do we even know we can trust him?”
“Careful there, big fella,” Pearl said, frowning. “I understand you’re upset, but Erwin isn’t just someone that works with me—he’s a friend. Been a friend for ten years and more, and I trust him a damned sight more than I trust you.”
“And who’s to say I trust you?” Dekker countered.
“If you don’t, you’ve a funny way of showing it,” Pearl said, letting her gaze travel to the door leading out to the club. She said no more than that, but then she didn’t need to, for Dekker knew clearly enough what she meant. She’d put Sarah and Ella in a different room—considering that the one Dekker’s daughter and wife had been in was currently occupied by a blood-stained unconscious drunk—and it was to them that she referred.
He frowned at that, for the truth was he did trust Pearl. Part of it was because Clint trusted her, and he, in turn, trusted Clint’s judgment. Most of it, though, was simply that the woman possessed the sort of what-you-see-is-what-you-get personality that was nearly impossible to fake. Also, she was more than a bit of a pain in the ass, not what he’d expect from someone meaning to ingratiate themselves with him and the others so they could betray them.
“Besides,” Pearl went on, “as I recall, it was you and yours that came to me, not the other way around.”
Dekker sighed. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t no cause to say that.”
She blinked as if surprised to hear him apologize. “That’s…alright.”
Dekker nodded. “Maybe I’ll go check on Merle, see how he’s making out.” He gave her a nod then turned and started toward the door leading to Pearl’s personal quarters. He glanced back at Clint, meeting the Perishable’s leader’s gaze for a moment. Then he turned and walked through the door, leaving the two of them alone hoping that Clint would take the chance to speak to the woman about how they both obviously felt for each other.
Merle was in the same place he had been since Dekker had carried Jessup in and laid him on the table. The thin man sat in a chair, staring at his unconscious friend as if he could revive him with nothing more than an effort of will. The healer was gone, at least for the moment. She’d left about half an hour ago, claiming that she’d done what she could and that his fate was uncertain, saying also that they’d be wise to leave him alone and let him have his rest. Merle had agreed—and then had gone on sitting right where he had been. And the old healer, proving that she did indeed possess the wisdom Dekker had credited her, had not tried to dissuade him but had only turned and left, promising to return to check on him soon.
Dekker walked up to stand beside the man. Merle didn’t so much as glance in his direction. Dekker remembered the man telling them, outside of Celes, that the stablemaster wasn’t his friend. It seemed, then, that Merle, like most people, didn’t always say what he meant.
He wanted to say something to offer the man some comfort, but he was short on comfort himself just then—and chock full of his own fears and worries. So, instead, he said nothing, for he knew well the power of companionable silence, knew well how important it was, sometimes, for someone to be there, even if they didn’t say anything. Sometimes because they didn’t say anything. For sometimes, it was not reassurance that saw a man through—it was hope.
They stood that way for several minutes, just sharing in their silence, in their worry, the thin man never so much as looking up. Finally, Dekker did speak. “He’s going to be alright,” he said softly, not because he knew it to be true but because he hoped it would be, and a man couldn’t hope for the best and believe the worst at the same time—people simply didn’t work that way.
Merle did look at him then and from the redness of his eyes Dekker suspected he might have been crying or close enough as to make little difference. “Funny,” the thin man said, “I was thinkin’ of tellin’ you the same.”
Dekker winced. “Right. So, how is he?” he asked, glancing back at Jessup.
“Unconscious,” Merle said. “Nothin’ new for Jess, I guess. He’s been unconscious a lot the last few years.”
Dekker nodded, saying nothing.
“I was hard on Jessup,” the thin man said, his voice laden with guilt. “Too hard. I said some things…things that I wish I could take back. And now…”
“And now nothing,” Dekker said, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Whatever you said, you said because you care. Take it from someone who was raised by a father that didn’t give two shits about him—caring is better. Even when that caring means a few choice words. As for the rest, he’ll be okay, and you can tell him whatever it is that you want when he wakes up.”
“If he wakes up, you mean,” Merle said grimly.
“No, I don’t. I mean when. I say what I mean, Merle—you can ask my wife, and she’ll tell you as much. As well she ought as its led to arguments aplenty between us, and that’s a fact. Your friend here will wake up.”
“You sound sure.”
“Sure I’m sure. Did you see that old healer? Shit, I’ve met healers before, and that woman knows her work, of that I’m sure.”
Merle nodded, clearly at least a little comforted. “A bit ornery though, isn’t she?” he said, a small, fragile smile on his face.
“In my experience, the best healers often are, takin’ it as a personal affront when anyone gets sick or gets themselves hurt.”
The thin man nodded slowly, looking at his friend then back to Dekker. “Thank you, Dekker,” he said. “You’re a good man. I wish there was something I could do to help your friend, I really do. To help all of you.”
“So do I,” Dekker said quietly. “But Ungr knows how to take care of himself—no one better. As for the rest of us…well. Truth is we came to Celes to try to make a difference, but it seems like everything’s went wrong since we got here. I ain’t sure what you could do to help.”
“Not unless you got an army tucked in one of your trouser pockets, anyway.”
They both turned to see that Clint had walked in, the Perishable’s leader giving the two men a small smile.
“Thought you and Pearl were havin’ a nice chat?” Dekker asked.
“Oh, we were,” Clint agreed. “Only, in my experience, when it comes to women, a little of me goes a long way.”
Merle gave a soft laugh. “A good way to keep from getting stabbed, I’d say.”
“Sure,” Dekker said, frowning. “A good way to keep from bein’ happy, too.”
Clint blinked. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Aren’t you?” Dekker sighed, shaking his head. “How a man who’s so wise in so much else can be such a fool when it comes to women, I can’t imagine.”
“Hard work?” Merle asked.
“Sure, and clean living,” Clint agreed, grinning. His face grew more serious then, and he walked up, looking at Jessup. “How is he?”
“Oh he’s still getting his beauty rest,” Merle said. “S’pose I can’t fault him there—the Eternals know he can use it.” He blinked after he spoke, as if just aware of what he’d said. Dekker understood, for he’d referenced the Eternals a thousand times and more in his life, but now that he’d actually met one it always seemed strange to say it. They’d felt more like gods to him before, but now that he’d met Ungr, now that he’d spoken with him, shared his food and his worries…well, he didn’t seem much like a god but a man and that in the best way. That thought sent a fresh wave of fear through him, and Dekker clenched and unclenched his fingers, wishing that he could go and do something, anything. Just so long as it meant he didn’t have to stand around worrying, like a prisoner with his head in the guillotine, waiting for something to happen, nurturing a hope for good news that seemed more and more ridiculous by the moment.
“And how are ya’ll doing?”
Dekker looked up and saw Clint staring at him, as if he knew something of what was on his mind. “Not gonna lie to you, Clint—I’ve been better.”
Clint nodded. “Just be patient, Dek. Don’t do anything reckless, alright?”
“Who me?” Dekker asked, trying to make it sound like a joke but not quite getting there.
Clint gave him a small smile anyway. “I know you, Dek. I know your wife and that sweet daughter of yours. I also know the many strengths you have—like the fact that you could pick up a wagon and move it if it happened to be in your way. I know that. Just as I know that out of all those strengths, you can’t number patience among ‘em. Ungr’s a tough bastard. None tougher. Whatever happened, he’ll be alright. He’s been through worse, after all.”
“Knew a man once, a soldier,” Dekker said. “Spent years servin’. Roustin’ bandits, battling all manner of beasts. Made it through all that—man and beast, both—just to end up findin’ his death from a bee sting.”
“A bee sting?” Merle asked.
“Sure,” Dekker said. “Turns out that out of all the stuff he could handle, a bee sting wasn’t one of ‘em. My point is, every man’s got a weakness—even Ungr.”
“Maybe what you’re sayin’s true,” Clint said, then held up a hand, “and I’d hazard that it is. And I’m just as keen to help Ungr as anyone. But what would you have us do, Dek? Scrounge the entire city lookin’ for him, all the while putting ourselves and everyone with us at risk?”
“Of course not,” Dekker said, sighing. “And the truth is, I don’t know, Clint. I just want to do something.”
“Well,” Clint said, “just as soon as you figure out what that somethin’ is, you let me know—I’m comin’ with you.”
“I’ll let you know,” Dekker said.
Clint opened his mouth to respond but before he could the door opened, and they all turned as Pearl walked into the room. There was a worried look on her face, one that Dekker didn’t like.
“Everything alright, Pearl?” Clint asked, clearly noting her expression as well.
“Erwin just got back,” Pearl said.
“He did?” Clint asked. “What did he say? Was Ungr at the stables?”
Pearl’s troubled gaze traveled to the table where Jessup still lay unconscious, then back to Clint and, a moment later, to Dekker. “The stables are burned down.”
‘Burned down,” Dekker repeated.
“Yes.”
“And…and Ungr?” Clint asked.
“He wasn’t there,” Pearl said. “Erwin asked around—there was a bit of a crowd. Most didn’t see anything—anything except the fire, at least. But a few told him they thought they’d seen people fighting inside when it burned. One even claimed that he’d seen two men and a giant horse break through the wall and ride away into the night.”
Dekker, Merle, and Clint all looked at each other. “A giant horse,” Dekker repeated.
“Do you think he meant Veikr?”
“Who else?” Dekker said.
“What do we do?” Merle asked.
“What can we do?” Clint said. “I don’t see as this changes anything, not really. After all, it’s a big city, and while it seems pretty obvious that Ungr was at the stables, knowin’ where he was doesn’t go a long way toward tellin’ us where he is.”
“We can’t help him,” Dekker said. “That’s the truth. We got to trust Ungr to help himself—after all, he’s done it for the last hundred years.”
Merle shook his head. “Seems almost criminal for a fella to live that long.”
“If it is, let’s hope today ain’t the day he’s punished for it,” Dekker said.
“So what then?” Clint asked.
Dekker considered that, scratching his chin. “Well. It seems to me that if we can’t help Ungr, we ought to be about doin’ what we come here to do in the first place.”
“You mean takin’ on the leaders of the city?” Clint asked, sounding surprised.
“Sure,” Dekker said. “After all, that’s what we’re here for, ain’t it? And to find your friends, of course.”
Clint nodded grimly. “Yeah, but then when we talked about it we also imagined havin’ Ungr, a hundred-year-old Eternal with us.”
“I believe we still will,” Dekker said. “Whatever trouble he’s in, Ungr’ll find his way clear of it. And when he does, it’d be a damn shame if he shows up to see that we ain’t been doin’ nothin’ but sittin’ on our hands while he was out fightin’ for his life.”
“What do you have in mind?” Clint asked.
“You said before that we’d need an army to take on the corruption in the city. What say we start buildin’ it?”
Clint and Merle shared a look as if Dekker were crazy before looking back at him. “Building it out of what?” Clint asked. “Unless you think Merle here really does have an army in his pocket.”
“Fresh out of armies, I’m afraid,” Merle said. “Got a couple of coppers, if that does anything for you.”
“We don’t need to go lookin’ for armies though,” Dekker said.
“We don’t?” Clint asked, glancing at Merle again.
“How many folks you figure live in Celes?”
“All told?” Clint asked, then shrugged. “Thousands, sure. Tens of thousands.”
Dekker nodded. “Seems like a pretty good army to me.”
“Sure,” Clint said, raising an eyebrow. “Just missing a few things. You know, like weapons, armor, training. Soldiers. Well. Just about everything, I guess.”
“What they lack in training I think they’ll more than make up for in motivation,” Dekker said. “After all, it ain’t just us that are sufferin’ in Celes.”
“Maybe not,” Merle agreed. “But motivation only goes so far, particularly for folks that have suffered as much as the people of this damned city have. A man gets hurt enough, sooner or later he forgets all about fightin’. Just curls up into a ball and waits for the hurting to stop.”
“Not all men,” Dekker said.
“No, not all men,” Merle said. “Problem is, even those that’d fight haven’t eaten in days, are weak with hunger and thirst, sick from bein’ unable to afford medicine they need. Things as bad as they are, I think you’d have a hard time findin’ more than a handful of folks that could lift a sword, let alone know what to do with it once they had.”
Dekker found himself considering the man’s words. He was right, of course—the people of Celes had suffered greatly in the time they’d been gone. And while he didn’t doubt that some of their number would love to strike back at those who had wronged them, they had no weapons to fight against their persecutors even if they did know how to use them and they did not.
An idea struck him then, and his eyes went wide.
“I know what to do,” Dekker said, rising. “I’m going to go out for a bit—I’ll be back soon.”
“Go?” Pearl asked. “Surely you can’t be serious. We’ve already discussed that it’s useless to go hunting through Celes for your friend. You won’t find him—you wouldn’t even know where to start looking. What you might find, though, is your death. Things aren’t good in Celes, in case you’ve forgotten. The guards don’t give a shit about anything except for how much they can benefit from the tragedies that happen every day, and criminals run the streets.”
“Good,” Dekker said. “They ought not be too hard to find then.”
“Who won’t be too hard to find?” Merle asked.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Dekker asked, letting his gaze travel over the other three and seeing from their confused expressions that for them, at least, it wasn’t. “Criminals,” he said. “I’m going to go find some criminals.”
“Said no right-thinking person ever,” Pearl said, frowning. “That’s like saying you’ve been too happy lately and you’re going to go find some misery just to mix things up.”
“I don’t think any of us are too happy right now,” Dekker said.
“Be that as it may, Dek,” Clint said, “I’m not sure what you’re planning to do. Once you find these criminals—which shouldn’t be all that hard to do, I’d judge—then what?”
“Then I’m going to recruit them to fight against the bastards running this city into the ground.”
Clint blinked. “You’re going to recruit them. Criminals.”
“That’s right.”
“And just how are you going to do that?” Pearl asked. “You sittin’ on a fortune I’m unaware of? Because I know the type of bastards you’re talking about—you don’t run a business like mine without bumping into them from time to time. And I can tell you for a fact that they don’t give two shits about saving people or their city. They care about coin, about their own livelihoods. That and little else.”
“Exactly,” Dekker said. “And to answer your question, no, I don’t have a fortune, and I don’t need it. I just need to make them understand that they won’t be able to avoid the worst of what’s happening in Celes, not forever, not, at least, if things keep going like they are. After all, when all the rabbits are dead, it’s the lions who starve. Someone’s just got to make them understand that.”
“And you think you’re the man for the job?” Pearl asked.
“I do,” Dekker said, turning and glancing at Clint. “Though I’m lookin’ to have a little help.”
