The Cat's Eye, Book I, Part IX

The Cat's Eye

Book I, Part IX

It was a funny thing, Chaku thought, that the very people she was looking for had made it so easy for her to move freely ‘round the city. Not a week before, the city guards were so knock-kneed with fear of the uprisings that the gates were watched closer than a royal babe by day and sealed sure as a tomb by night. Kion’s lot, by all accounts, had done more in days to wipe the rebels off the map than all His Grace’s puffed-up errand boys had managed all Summer; that and the festive mood of Carnivale meant she found the gates wide open, soldiers drunk as could be.

Chaku had no love for the countryside at night, and as the myriad torches of the city gave way to scattered bonfires along the road and the dark settled in thick, it took all her will to focus herself on the task at hand, instead of checking for ambushes. The cheery folk walking up and down the road cooled her head enough that she could take the measure of things.

There was little chance of tracking him down in one night, especially out in the open. Even a Maspa in these parts could slip around ghost-like if he stuck to the quiet roads, and if he were being chased anyway, she knew he would. What’s more, someone on the run with nowhere to go could pick any place easy as you please. Sure as the safe money said he’d go south ‘fore the winter rolled in, but there was no reason he couldn’t go any other way.

At least, Chaku thought, this means that fat pig and his bought law probably won’t find him any time soon, either. But that left her with only one real option as far as her own side of the search: she’d have to pay a visit to the sellswords’ camp, see if he’d really joined up with that lot. She didn’t think it such a bad fit, God’s truth, but she didn’t much care for having to tell the lady what she didn’t want to hear; she’d been stiffed of coin for as much before.

Still, there was nothing for it, so she took the road north, eyes on a village not far up it.

Well, Chaku thought, I’m gettin’ to see the bonfires like I’d wanted.

The circles of Scembrese swaying, singing and attempting to dance reminded her of the filthy alleys back home, full of sailors and traders and whores until the break of day. Only difference, other than occupation, was that on the continent folk are polite enough to wait for an occasion.

‘Course thinking of home was no help, so she turned her ears to the songs floating from every circle, watched passersby wander over to the fires when they caught wind of a tune they knew, the less lively just happy to take a spot near the warmth and be rocked ‘bout by their fellows. Chaku noticed, for the first time, how tired she was, enough to reach down into the bone. The bonfires tempted her something awful, the promise of heat and drink and no worries. She paused and gave it a real thought until she remembered the hundred times her sister had torn her up for ‘lacking the follow-through.’

She was still trying to excuse a little sit-down by the fire by the time she’d wandered into the village, where the stalls and crowds of Carnivale almost made it seem a city for the night. It took a few tries to find someone sober enough to point her to an inn, and plenty of shouting to get the innkeep’s attention over the hollering lot in his tavern.

“How might I help you, miss?”

“I’m looking for them sellswords the Duke hired of late, I heard they made camp off in this direction.”’

“Sure, close enough that some are here in the village celebrating.”

“Oh, aye? How might I be getting there?”

“Honestly, you may as well try asking that fellow over there, he’s one of them, they’ve been plenty friendly with us.” The innkeep leaned over the wooden counter and pointed to a man in a dark-green cloak, fur-lined, sweeping the air with his hands, a crowd fixed, listening as he spoke. She knew him from the night before, one they’d called Silvertongue. She watched him for a moment and he seemed easy enough, all right. Chaku pushed her way through the crowd and planted herself square in front of him, staring him down.

Silvertongue was spouting off some poem, near as she could figure, but noticed her and took her meaning plain enough. Soon as he’d finished, he bowed like a regular showman and slipped out of the group, towards her.

“Is there some way in which I may be of service?” he asked, guiding her to one of the few empty tables far from the innkeep’s bar. His voice was gentle but clear, strong, cutting right through the noise. Chaku reckoned someone so good at talk could make sweet deals fall from the sky for Kion’s lot.

“Aye, though I suspect ye’ll not want to be when ye know what I’m asking.”

“Perhaps not, but that is for me to say, is it not? What do you have in mind?”

“I want to know what became of the circus boy yer lot’s been playing with.”

“So, you must be the lady pursuer Amprezzo described. He neglected to say that you’re Oza, however. Fascinating island, I must say. Rare to see its people living on the continent.” Silvertongue’s perfectly upright posture never wavered, his hands folded neatly on the table, entirely still. Chaku thought of Amiel and nearly laughed to herself.

“Sure enough, but ye’ve not approached my question.”

“First, let me say that our group has not ‘played’ with anyone. We have, however, enjoyed a mutually interesting association with a member of a circus recently. Some of our group took a liking to him for his prowess and dedication, and he appears to have great curiosity about the life of a warrior.”

“And where’s that great curiosity gotten him to now?”

Chaku could tell Silvertongue was taking her measure when he went quiet. He smiled for a spell, then raised a hand to signal the innkeep for a fresh drink.

“I had the pleasure of briefly speaking to him in the company of The Priest less than an hour ago, they were on their way to our encampment to discuss . . . the boy’s future. I suspect that this is not what your financier was hoping to hear.”

That was as good a cue as any to take her leave, but when she stood from her seat, she was surprised to see nobody had a mind to get in her way; there weren’t even rough hands set up by the door. Silvertongue laughed.

“Ah, you seem shocked, but if you wish to leave, you may. I had hoped you might pass through here and we could talk, but it’s scarcely crucial enough to risk getting into a fight with you, Aanitsuru Chaku.”

Chaku jumped at the sound of her name, but Silvertongue just pointed to her seat. She wasn’t sure what game the bastard was playing at, but she intended to find out, and cautiously took her seat again.

“The Priest is a vitally important part of our group, but his responsibilities are . . . focused. I must make it my business to know as much as I can, and we’ve worked in or near this city often enough over the years. To the proper authorities, you do not exist, but an errand-runner fresh off the boat from Oza pulling some of the things you have, making the kind of money you have, yet living so ascetically? That qualifies as a person of interest.”

Chaku fought tooth and nail to keep her face straight as she could, but some stranger having so many pieces in his hands felt like betrayal and no mistake.

“Now, ultimately you’ve never been an enemy or an ally to us, so we’ve had no need, strictly speaking, to know more. Yet, I am personally very intrigued by you. Tell me, where does that money go? Are you saving it for some greater purpose?”

They stared at each other across the table in silence, until Silvertongue chuckled softly.

“All right, then. Could you at least tell me the name of your current employer and their interest in Traleau? Surely you understand the safety of a new comrade is important to us.”

“I think not. I’d have ye take me to see him before yer lot clears out. Let me have a word with him and I’m done.”

“I hardly think that necessary. If your concern is truly what you related to The Priest, then I can settle the issue right now; Traleau intends to join our group. He will be leaving with us tomorrow. He will become a mercenary.”

“I’ve something to ask him to his face.”

“So, you would have me help you indulge your personal curiosity when you have entirely refused mine? Come now, be reasonable,” he said, for all the world sounding like a friend. Chaku gave him hard eyes out of habit, but that damn smile wasn’t coming off his face; she knew that.

“Aye, reasonable, I can be that,” she said. “Let me bend his ear and I’ll tell ye something about Chaku ‘erself.”

“That’s a more credible arrangement.” Silvertongue nodded his head and took a swig of his ale--even that had some dandy magic to it, since not a drop or hint of foam was wasted on his face. Chaku had seen enough ladies of standing make a mess of the same to find it all a bit off.

“You will understand, of course, that I cannot speak to how the boy will react, or if he’ll even wish to speak with you, but I will nonetheless expect you to uphold your end of the agreement.”

“Way I figure it, if he won’t hear me out, there’s answer enough,” Chaku said. “I’m not the sort to back out on what’s been settled, ‘swhy I’m even nosing around your lot in the first place.”

“I respect that. It’s certainly rare enough.”

“These days?” Chaku said, rolling her eyes. Silvertongue looked into his cup and laughed.

“People of quality, I suspect, are always in short supply.” He took another drink, set the cup down and gathered himself up out of the chair. “Well, then, if you’ve no other business to attend to, I can guide you to our humble camp now. It’s just a half hour’s walk from here.”

Chaku nodded and followed after him, kept a pace behind him, eyes on his hands, mouth shut. He tried to strike up small talk, and every last word was fine, but she’d gotten what she wanted and had a feeling the less she said to this one, the better. He didn’t seem to mind, giving up on her and singing instead, real pretty. She didn’t believe it at first, but sure enough, he was singing Oza songs like he sang them every day.

Before long, she could make out the sight of fires and tents grouped round them a ways off the road, a few shapes moving through the night to and from, and some amid the camp itself. She only needed a good look at one of the folk making for the village to see they were warriors, and that was where she wanted to be.

The closer she got, the more Chaku felt easy; each hand might be rotten, but lots like this were a beast she knew well. To the last, the men and women she saw on the way to the camp looked the sort she and her sister would drink with--work with, too--back home. Foul-mouthed, muddy-faced, sweat stinkin’ lot, she’d guess, but they’d know what they were about. All that just served to make the skinny shape of the circus boy look a bad joke in the camp.

She drew some looks as Silvertongue led her between the tents and fires, but most were busy with drink and talk, and plenty others were looking at the center of the camp, where Traleau was sat with the roughest lot she’d seen. She remembered some from the night before, Stonebreaker, Brand, Wind. The Priest was there, staring holes in the circus boy, looking right furious. Kion, held court, relaxed as any man, but she’d never forget that knife to her neck.

Still, three men, one woman and one . . . she couldn’t figure, wrapped up in all those rags . . . she’d not seen before. Rough hands all, to be sure.

“Silvertongue, you’ve honored us with a guest, eh? Who’s your friend?” Kion said, the first to notice. Crowds had never weighed much on Chaku’s mind, but having all those eyes turn to her at once was something else. Still, one look at the boy reminded her why she was there, and she set the nerves aside for later.

“You.” The Priest said, showing nothing.

“Oh, so you’ve met?” Kion asked.

“The Priest is a damn pretty boy, always has a woman chasing him,” a stocky man with arms like mast-poles grunted. “Though this bitch isn’t the usual.”

“Please, Dungeons, mind your language,” Silvertongue said, offering Chaku an apologetic shrug. “This is Aanitsuru Chaku, the young lady who was observing Traleau earlier today. Some of you, she’s already familiar with--The Priest told me you were shadowing us last night as well?”

“Aye.”

“Then I need only introduce a few. Crow, Dungeons,” Silvertongue said, waving at the long-haired woman and the stocky charmer in turn. “Medicine Man, Rags and Helmkeeper.” An old man--older than Kion, she’d wager--the bundled up one, and a giant. No other way to put it, Helmkeeper was bigger than a man should be allowed; she’d figured for sure the dark was tricking her eyes, but looking longer just made her dizzy. She looked over the lot quiet-like, not sure what was supposed to happen next.

That grey-headed Kion spoke up first. “What brings you to our little camp? Not that we mind the company.”

“Looking to have words with this one,” Chaku said, pointing to Traleau.

“I’ve given her my assurance that would be acceptable.”

“No harm in it, but the choice is Traleau’s,” Kion said. Chaku couldn’t make out much on the boy’s shadowed face, but could see the slight nod. Kion stood, and his lot with him, each walking off until they were out of earshot. Chaku looked all ‘round once just for herself, then sat herself next to the boy, warming her hands by the fire.

“Ye’ve any guess who it is that’s hired me to follow ye?”

“Ami,” Traleau said. “Er, Amiel.”

Chaku couldn’t hear any hint of affection or guilt, nothing she might have expected. “Aye,” she replied. “She thinks this lot ye’re throwing in with is like to turn ye into someone foul.”

“I know,” he said. She could tell he was looking straight into the flames too in the quiet. “What do you think?”

Chaku had to snicker when she realized he’d meant it. She felt like she could see how someone with such a rough hand had made it so long round normal folk: there wasn’t a scrap of guile in that head of his. He was innocent, or at least part of him was.

“Can’t say as I care,” she said. “Truth is I’ve not come for her sake. I came because I’ve something to ask ye for myself.”

Out the corner of her eye, she could see the boy turn to look at her, but he said nothing.

“I’m just wondering why ye’d do it. Ye’ve plenty of reason not to.”

“I have to try something,” he said, softly. “I don’t want to go back to being alone, but I don’t belong anywhere I’ve seen yet. So I’ve got to try something.”

“Finding who ye are,” Chaku said, only half joking.

“I guess so,” Traleau said.

“Ye know what being part of this lot means, don’t ye? What they want ye for is yer knife.”

“That’s all I have.”

“Right, then.” That settled it for Chaku sure as anything could have. She met his eyes and made sure he knew, knew she got it. She stood right up and walked away, leaving him there, not a word from him as she did. Better that way, she figured, since where his head was, more talk wouldn’t help a thing.

‘That’s all I have’ was why she lived how she did, why she wouldn’t and hadn’t turned her nose up at wet-work when the coin was right, why she’d left home the way she had. There were naught to be said for it but to try finding something else, something better. Failing that, turn the hands to making a place.

“I hope your concerns have been addressed?” Silvertongue said, all smiles as he fell in step with her.

“Aye, something like that,” Chaku said. She hadn’t noticed his approach at all, but it was fitting enough, where her head had gone, with what she’d agreed to. A part of her still fought for her secrets, but she’d always known they’d be told on the continent, even if she hadn’t figured on this.

“As for your end of our agreement?”

“I’ll tell ye why I came here from Oza, since you’re so keen to know.”

She knew there was no point to it, but Chaku looked back over her shoulder at the circus boy and saw him well fixed by the fire, Kion and the others gathering ‘round him once more.