The Black Bouquet

"Why not?"

"First off, I'd have to trust you, and all I know about you is that you killed my friends, and stood and watched as the Red Axes kidnapped a sick old man. I didn't think 'honorable' rangers were supposed to behave like that."

The barb evoked a rush of shame in Miri, which she did her best to hide.

"I've seen a hundred cruel and depraved acts since I came to this cesspool of a city," the ranger said. "I couldn't interfere with all of them. Anyway, who are you, a miserable thief, to lecture me on my duty?"

He shrugged and said, "Nobody, obviously, in your eyes. Anyway, there are other reasons I don't want to go to the Gray Blades. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them are in Kesk's pay, or beholden to the person who hired him to get the book. Even if they're not, they're as leery of the Red Axes as the gang is of them. They wouldn't want to break into Kesk's stronghold just on our say-so. They do know I'm an outlaw even if they've never been able to hang anything on me, and while your guild may be known the world over as honest and true, you're still an outlander, which means you don't count for much."

"The rightful owner of the book does. If I can convince him to speak up…"

"It's still not a sure thing. Look, my father was a notable robber in his time. The law hasn't forgotten, and it doesn't love him, either. But let's say we could convince the Gray Blades to raid Kesk's mansion. Do you think they'd find my father alive? The house surely has secret rooms, and sits on the river to boot."

"So the only answer is to out-trick Kesk?" Miri asked. "And his henchmen? And Sefris?"

"I imagine."

"In that case, let me help you, and when your father is safe, you'll return The Black Bouquet to me."

"Right," Aeron said with a snort, "and as soon as I turn my back, you knock me over the head, tie me up, and torture the location of the book out of me. Or hand me over to the law and let them do it."

"I swear by the Hornblade that I won't."

"Oh, well, that changes everything."

Miri felt a surge of anger, and quashed it as best she could. In his world, perhaps it wasn't a deadly insult to doubt the sanctity of another person's oath.

"Look," she said, "neither you nor I are a match for Sefris and the Red Axes by ourselves. But if we work together, we might have a chance."

Frowning, he thought it over for a moment.

"At the end," he said, "when I turn over the book, I want a reward."

"We're talking about your father's life."

"Even so," the thief replied. "Think of it as wergild for my friends."

"All right I can arrange it. Where are my clothes and weapons?"

"Your clothes and armor are in the chest at the foot of the bed. We'll have to buy you a new sword and bow."

CHAPTER 11

The night was overcast and dark. Still, peering down from the Rainspan, Aeron could make out some detail inside the shadowy enclosure off Dead King's Walk. From the looks of her, Miri could, too. In fact, from the way she fingered her new longbow, he could tell she was thinking she could hit the guard who periodically emerged from his sentry box to amble around checking on the merchandise, and never mind that she'd complained of the poor quality of the weapon compared to the one she'd lost.

She was a dangerous woman for certain, one who'd already killed some of Aeron's friends, and he was trusting her simply because, when she'd promised to deal fairly with him, she'd seemed to be speaking honestly, and even if not, so long as she didn't know where he'd stashed The Black Bouquet, she might well hesitate to attack him. For what if matters went awry, and he either escaped her or wound up dead?

In any case, he had to run the risk of working with her, because she was right. For the time being, he did need her. His truest friends were dead, and Kesk had demonstrated his ability to turn the rest of Oeble against him.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I can make the shot," Miri replied. A cool breeze, moist with the promise of rain before morning, shifted a lock of her close-cropped hair. "And I don't like slavers. But the trade is legal in Oeble, isn't it?"

"Thank Mask I'm just a 'miserable thief,' " he said. "Such concerns don't matter to me. Yes, a slave emporium is legal in and of itself, even if an outlaw like Kesk owns it. But if it makes you feel any better, I'd wager a wagon full of gold that he didn't come by all his stock in a lawful ma

"That does make it better. Still, I'd rather not murder a man u

"It doesn't," he admitted. "If you remember, I tried to steal The Black Bouquet without anybody getting hurt. We'll use the other plan."

Keeping an eye out for those who were scouring the city hunting him, they stalked to the end of the bridge, entered a squat octagonal tower, and descended to ground level via the stairs inside. Aeron cracked open the match-boarded external door, peeked out, and frowned. Dead King's Walk was one of Oeble's primary thoroughfares, and despite the lateness of the hour, that particular section was both better lit and busier than he would have liked. He and Miri would just have to cope.

They sauntered to the slave market entrance. Aeron figured he had just a moment or two to make an assessment. If he took any longer, someone might conclude that he and his companion were loitering suspiciously.

The gate had a sturdy, well-made lock. Burgell could have opened it with a perfunctory mystical whisper, but it was likely to take Aeron a while. The high fence had long nails driven all the way through to catch and pierce a climber's flesh. He thought he could swarm over unscathed, but had no idea whether Miri could do as well.

All things considered, he felt the third option was the best. He positioned himself against the fence, where someone opening the gate wouldn't see him, then Miri took hold of the rope hanging from the brass bell and rang.

She had to clang it twice more before a surly voice replied from the other side, "We're closed. Come back tomorrow."

"I'm traveling at first light," she said, "and I need thralls to tend the pack animals. I'll pay well."

The guard opened the gate a notch to peer out at what appeared to be a lone woman in a non-threatening stance, no blade in her hand or arrow on her bowstring. Squeaking a little, the hinges in need of oil, the portal swung wider.

Aeron threw his shoulder against it and slammed it all the way open, staggering the half-orc watchman in the process. He lunged onward and hammered his new cudgel against the guard's temple. The half-breed collapsed, and Miri closed the gate. The whole thing had only taken a second, and with luck, no one outside the fence had observed it.

Miri gave Aeron a nod of approval, and a second attendant, a human, stepped onto the stoop of the shack at the rear of the fenced-in yard. He'd plainly heard the bell, too, and come to see what was going on. He goggled, then whirled to run back inside.

Aeron grabbed an Arthyn fang and threw it. The blade plunged into the target's back at the same instant as Miri's arrow. The man stumbled, made a ghastly little gargling sound, and fell on his face, the top half of him over the threshold and the rest still stretched across the little porch.

Aeron sighed. They'd hoped to do their job without killing, but it simply hadn't worked out that way. They couldn't let the wretch raise an alarm. Anyway, the dead man was a Red Axe, wasn't he, or as good as. Aeron shoved the matter out of his mind.

The slaves slept in what amounted to lean-tos in the middle of the yard, with buckets provided for sanitation. Evidently no one had emptied them in a while, and the stink made Aeron's eyes water. The thralls stared at him and Miri apprehensively.