The Nightblade Epic Volume Two: A Book of Underrealm, page 59
He retreated to the back section of the room, where the half-wall hid him from view. Loren and Annis gave each other an odd look. Gem looked at Kanja and frowned. “Business garments?”
“Some finery of his, no doubt.” Kanja gave a little smile. “I have seen him in many fine clothes, as well as none at all.”
From his expression, Loren thought Gem might be sick.
Then they heard the crash of a window from the back of the room.
“Dark below,” growled Loren.
She ran around the half-wall. A window in the front of the building had been broken, and Wyle was nowhere to be seen.
“Gem, down the stairs!” she cried. “I will go after him.”
Loren ran to the window. Wyle was already halfway to the ground. There were tiles and bricks set in the wall. Loren had thought them a decoration, but now she saw they formed a sort of ladder leading down. An escape route, in case Wyle found himself cornered. Loren admired the precaution.
She leaped out the window and took the same route down. Wyle jumped the last two paces to the ground. He landed in a crouch and came up running.
But he had not predicted the Mystics. Uzo leaped out of the alley, hands grasping. Wyle seized the spearman’s arm and flipped him around, then kicked his legs out from under him. Uzo landed hard on his back. But Shiun appeared, driving a fist into Wyle’s stomach. He fell to the street, wheezing.
Loren reached the ground a moment later, and Gem appeared just after. Loren helped Uzo to his feet. He had hit the back of his head when he landed, and he rubbed it ruefully while glaring at the smuggler. Loren tossed her head towards the back of the building.
“Bring him back to his hideout,” she said. “This is not a conversation for the open air.”
They took him back to the door leading to the staircase, but Loren commanded Shiun and Uzo to wait again. “One of you remain here, and one at the front of the building. I will not let him try the same trick twice, but be ready just in case.”
In truth, she had no wish for the Mystics to learn of her magestones. Uzo and Shiun nodded and went to do as they were bid. Loren put a hand on Wyle’s shoulder. He tried to shake her off, but before he could react she pulled one hand up behind his shoulder blades and shoved him up the stairs.
“Be still. You will not escape me a second time, but I have no wish to hurt you.”
“You are hurting me now,” said Wyle. But to her surprise, his tone was affable. He stopped resisting and walked up the stairs without further trouble. Once they had entered the apartment again, Loren released him with a shove.
Kanja still stood where she had been, eyes wide and head swinging back and forth. “I do not understand. What is wrong?”
“A sudden change of heart has come over me,” said Wyle. “I decided—rather abruptly, it is true—that I would rather not do business with these new friends.”
“But why?” said Kanja, blinking.
Wyle sighed and rubbed at his temples. “Kanja, you are a lovely woman—if too trusting—and a more than passable lover. But you are a terrible judge of people. Your new friends are the King’s law.”
Kanja gasped and took a step back. Her eyes grew panicked, and she seemed as if she might run.
“He speaks the truth,” said Loren. “But you need not fear.”
“Not her, mayhap,” said Wyle. He shook his head with a sigh. “But I hold no illusions for myself. What a tragedy. I am too pretty and too clever to die under the knives of Mystics. And just after ridding myself of another gaggle of troublemakers.”
Gem gave a loud snort. Loren shot him a glare.
“You have no reason to fear us, Wyle, nor was that little display of yours necessary,” said Loren. “We are not here to kill you, nor to put you to the question. But I think I would prefer the rest of our conversation to be conducted in private. If you do not mind?”
She tossed her head towards Kanja. Wyle stared at her for a moment, and then a slow smile crept across his lips. He went to Kanja and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Whether she tells the truth or no, neither of us gains anything by your being here, my sweet,” he said. “Go, and take care of yourself. I will see you soon, if I can.”
Kanja gave Loren one last uneasy look, but she nodded. Then she pulled in Wyle and kissed him deep and long. Loren and Annis studiously averted their gazes, and Gem openly made a gagging noise. But the moment passed, and then Kanja left through the apartment’s back entrance.
Loren waved a hand at the staircase. “That one hardly did much to guard your presence here. Whatever made you entrust her with the secret?”
Wyle shrugged. “Kanja is a fine woman, as I said. And when someone comes to Bertram looking for those who deal beyond the King’s law, they never look twice at a steelsmith. I wonder, in fact, how you found her.”
“How painful it must be to wonder,” said Loren.
To her amusement, Wyle very nearly pouted. “Painful indeed.” The pout turned into the same curious smile she had seen earlier. “But now we have wasted enough time on … shall we call them pleasantries? I wish to hear the real reason you sought me. Servants of the King’s law, seeking to deal with a man like me? I begin to think you may be even better friends than I first thought.”
“We may be,” said Loren. “It has come to my knowledge that you deal in certain goods of inestimable price. And because of that, we know that you know a great deal about the family Yerrin.”
Wyle’s amused look fell away at once. He folded his arms over his chest. “I feel my mind changing again. On second thought—or rather, third, or is it fourth?—I think I would rather not have any dealings with you after all.”
“How unfortunate for you,” said Loren. “We have come to the point where your preferences matter very little to me.”
The smuggler’s eyes narrowed. “How did you come to be here, anyway? You seem to know a very great deal about me, but I only know that you are the Nightblade.”
That took Loren aback. “You know who I am?”
Wyle shrugged. “Rumors are one of the most—no, the most important tool of my trade. Many people whisper about the green-eyed girl in the black cloak.” He pointed at her face, and then her body. “Green eyes. Black cloak. And servant of the King’s law.”
“You know more about me than you make it sound,” said Loren.
“Just because I hear rumors, does not mean I rely overmuch on them,” said Wyle. “Many tales about you are obvious lies, like how you escaped a constable’s prison with a magic cloak. I wish to learn a truth or two instead.”
Loren well remembered Xain’s warning: Wyle had no love for the wizard, and would not be pleased to find out Loren was his friend. “It does not much matter how I heard of you,” she said.
“Come now. I am at your mercy. Who cares if I know how it came about?” Wyle began counting on his fingers. “Was it Torbrik who told you? He has never forgiven me for that mess with the Calentin ship. Or mayhap that girl Jessa. She has caused me more than a fair share of troubles, and all because of a little misunderstanding over hemlock. Ah, I have it. It was that idiot of idiots, Robb. If I hear one more word from him about that den of lovers—”
“Stop!” said Loren. “If it will cease your prattling, I will tell you. I learned of you from Xain, of the family Forredar.”
Wyle’s already annoyed expression turned to dismay. “Xain? Sky above. A trio of misfortunes has befallen me at once. A girl made out of rumors, sent by one of the worst investments I ever made, on some business concerning the Yerrins. No. That is three reasons for me to have nothing to do with … with whatever this is, and any of the reasons would be good enough on its own.”
Loren felt herself at somewhat of a loss. The man clearly wanted nothing to do with her, and whenever she tried to argue with him, he only talked circles around her. But in the moment’s silence, Annis stepped forwards.
“You need not have any dealings with the family Yerrin at all,” said Annis. “We only wish to know what they are up to. A small group of Yerrins have been crisscrossing their way across Dorsea. We need to find them. Surely you must know something.”
Wyle eyed her. “How much do you know about the family Yerrin, exactly?”
Annis’ cheeks darkened for a moment. “Quite enough.”
“Oh?” said Wyle. “I wonder. I wonder if you know what they do to anyone who attempts to interfere with their trade. No, not even interfere, but just to skim a small bit on the side. I have had friends who attracted their attention—have had, I say, for none of them still live. And they were not quick in dying. The Yerrins saw to that. No, I do not imagine you know very much about the Yerrins at all, or you would not pursue them in the first place.”
Annis smiled, though the expression was devoid of humor and held only a clear threat. Loren shuddered at how closely she resembled Damaris in that moment.
“You guess wrong. I myself am of the family Yerrin. You have the honor of addressing Annis, daughter of Damaris.”
Wyle’s mouth opened at once, as if to reply by reflex. But once he heard Annis’ words, his voice died in his throat. His skin went several shades paler. At last he choked out, “I … I had not heard that you still traveled with the Nightblade.”
“Yet you can see that I do,” said Annis. “And I would ever so much appreciate your help. But of course, if you will not give it, I shall be forced to send a letter to my darling mother.”
“You …” Wyle swallowed hard. “I know you would not. They say you have sundered yourself from her. There are precious few rumors about you, but they all agree on that.”
“If so, they speak the truth,” said Annis. “And certainly we are on no friendly terms. Yet whatever opinion she holds of me, my mother—and in fact, all my kin—would be most interested to learn the name of a man dealing in magestones, and just where in Bertram he might be found.”
Wyle stared at her for a long, silent moment. Then his gaze rose to Loren, and he flashed her a wide smile.
“The Nightblade of the High King,” he said, giving her a deep bow. “I am most pleased to make your acquaintance. It will, of course, be my pleasure to serve you.”
WYLE HAD A BROAD, SOLID table of oak, and across it he unfurled a map, holding down the corners with large tomes bound in leather. When that was done, he had Annis lay out their journey in Dorsea thus far. They started with riding south out of Feldemar and crossing the Sunmane Pass, and then the mad crisscross through Dorsea’s western towns, finally ending in Sidwan where they had lost Damaris’ trail. Gem soon grew bored by the conversation and went to sit in Wyle’s great armchair, where he promptly fell asleep. When they had finished telling the tale, Wyle pursed his lips and pulled at the thin scrub of beard on his chin.
“That is quite the journey, and I hear little information that may help,” said Wyle. “She could have thrown you from her trail long ago, and you never realized it until Sidwan.”
“We thought of that,” said Annis. “But to a man so clever as yourself, surely such a setback would be merely a distraction.”
Wyle arched an eyebrow. “You wound me, my dear, though doubtless you do not intend to. There are some kingdoms where the word ‘clever’ carries a more sinister connotation, and Dorsea is one such.”
Annis’ eyes went wide, and she tilted her head to the side like a bird. “Is it? I had not the slightest idea. You must forgive me.”
The smuggler hid a smile. “I shudder to think how sharp your wits will be in adulthood.”
“I will choose to take that as a compliment,” said Annis, giving a perfect curtsey.
“I think you are right that Damaris would stay well away from Danfon and the other major cities,” said Wyle, looking back at the map. “It would simply be too great a risk. But then again, an unexpected course is often the best way to accomplish something nefarious. And it is well known that Damaris is both crafty and devious—meaning no offense to her daughter, of course. Very well. I will send word at once to my friends in the city, and we shall see what may be seen. But there is nothing else we can do tonight. After I send my letters I will retire, and I suggest that you do the same. We must all hope that the morning will bring news.”
“Well enough,” said Loren. “In that case, there is only one matter more we must discuss with you.” She looked at Annis and tapped her cloak where an inner pocket held her magestones.
“Ah, yes,” said Annis. “We did not entirely lie to you when we came here. We do carry a certain valuable cargo, and we do mean to sell it—or at least a portion of it.”
Wyle drew up, looking back and forth between them. “Truly? Agents of the King’s law, dealing in magestones? Wonders never cease.”
“I think these are days when all of us will see many things we have never seen before,” said Loren. “What price would you give us for them?”
For a moment Wyle did not answer, only pulling at his beard again and staring at the table in thought. “Let us see … I could give you mayhap fifty weights per stone.”
Loren’s knees went weak. With fifty weights she could make a pauper’s journey from one end of Underrealm to the other, and with a hundred she could do the same thing but eat like a king the whole while. She had heard often that magestones were very valuable, but she had never known just how much so. She thought back to when she had found Damaris’ caravan in Selvan, its wagons containing secret compartments holding hundreds of magestones each. She did not have a great enough command of numbers to calculate how much coin that cargo would bring, but she guessed it was enough to buy half a kingdom.
And then she almost fell over as Annis immediately replied, “Eighty weights.”
Wyle frowned. “Are you mad? On my best day I cannot sell them for eighty-five, and five weights of profit is nowhere near enough for the risk I take.”
Annis rolled her eyes. “You can sell them for nearly double eighty-five, you brigand. We will sell them to you for eighty if you will buy at least ten of them.”
The smuggler’s frown deepened. “Seventy-five—but I will buy fifteen.”
“Seventy-six.”
Wyle threw his hands up in the air. “You are a merchant’s daughter,” he cried. “You should conduct yourself with dignity. It is unbecoming to haggle for scraps.”
Annis spread her hands with a disarming smile. “I must preserve at least some of my dignity as my mother’s daughter.”
Wyle rolled his eyes just as she had—but Loren thought she saw him hiding a smile as well. “Very well. Seventy-six, you beggar. I shall collect the coins tonight and have them ready for you in the morning.”
Loren did not think her tongue would work. Visions of piles and piles of gold weights danced in her mind. But she forced herself to be calm again, and she gave Wyle a little half-bow. “Though at first our meeting was fraught with tension, I am glad to have made your acquaintance regardless. We shall see you upon the morrow.”
Wyle returned her bow with a deeper one. “And you, Nightblade. If I am still uneasy about our association, I grant at least that it will be an interesting one. I beg only that you do not make it interesting in the same way that Xain did—leaving me alone and forlorn upon a riverbank without a copper in my pocket.”
Loren raised an eyebrow. “It seems that you and I have had at least some similar experiences with Xain, then.”
“Oh?” Wyle looked surprised. “You should have told me from the beginning that you and the wizard were not friends. It might have changed my opinion of you.”
“Our road together was long,” said Loren. “Things changed.”
Wyle sniffed. “Very well. I hope to hear the tale some time. But that will have to wait for another day.”
Annis gave him an even deeper bow than he had given Loren. They roused Gem and left. Shiun waited outside the apartment’s back door, and she pushed herself from the wall with a raised brow.
“Since I have not had to chase him down again, may I assume that negotiations went well?”
“Well and better,” said Loren. “He will begin gathering information at once, and we will return in the morning. I think we can trust him to do as we have bid him, but just in case …”
Shiun nodded at once. “I will remain here to watch the building and make sure.”
“Thank you,” said Loren. “I shall send Uzo to replace you after the moons have begun to lower in the sky. We are all of us weary.”
They fetched Uzo from the front of the building and made their way back towards their inn. Gem was nearly asleep as he walked, and Uzo had to keep a hand on the boy’s shoulder to prop him up. Loren took advantage of the Mystics’ distraction to step aside with Annis.
“How did you do that magic with Wyle?” she murmured.
“Hm?” said Annis, raising her eyebrows. “I did no magic.”
“You sold him the magestones for thousands of gold weights!” said Loren. “When we first met, you did not even know what the stones were, much less their price.”
“Oh, that,” said Annis. She dropped her gaze and smiled, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “It is simple, really. It would have been better if I had known their value to start with, for I likely could have fetched a better price. But I had to let him make his proposal first. I knew he would bid far, far less than they were worth. Once he gave his first offer, I picked what seemed a good amount higher and worked from there. And not that it matters much, but he is not giving us thousands of gold weights—not much over one thousand, in fact.”
Loren scoffed. “You speak as though that is not simply unimaginable wealth to almost all in Underrealm. Sometimes I forget you are a merchant’s daughter in truth.”
Annis’ smile widened but for only a moment. “We shall have to find some way to store them safely, of course. He will likely give us the coin in lockboxes, and we can spread them between all our saddlebags. At some point we should find a banker.”
