When Bueralan woke in Zajce, he dressed in the only clothes he had. They smelt of blood and salt and, after he had pulled them on, he found hard stains of both substances. He was not a fastidious man – he had slept on the ground too often for that – but he was a man who appreciated the rise of bathhouses in the world. He would ask Inen for an advance on the week’s wages, to indulge in a bath, a shave, and paying someone to clean his clothes.
Bueralan found Inen on the ground floor at the bar. He was in deep conversation with a short woman selling laudanum. She had dark hair and olive skin and wore old, but well-made, brown and yellow clothes. A tiered case filled with green and blue bottles lay stretched across the bar between her and Inen. The two were involved in an exchange of full and empty bottles, a supplier to a market.
‘Ah, Bueralan.’ Vach Sala’s long-fingered hands slid around his waist. She had been sitting in one of the booths by the stairs, waiting for him. ‘Just who I wanted to see. Do you remember our topic of conversation earlier this morning?’
He wrapped his arm around her casually. ‘I thought you didn’t know Gertz?’
‘You smell terrible.’ She leant her head against his chest, despite her words. ‘But the Captain of Echoes and Lady Jaora would like to meet you.’
‘When?’
‘Now, I was told.’
Instead of leaving with Sala, Bueralan approached Inen and the laudanum seller. He was not sure just what he would get from Gertz or Jaora, but the idea of returning to The Last Courtesy without a bath didn’t appeal. Fortunately, the two had finished talking.
‘What would your mother say if she saw you right now?’ Inen asked him. ‘She would be ashamed by the odour that precedes you.’
‘I thought you might give me an advance,’ he said. ‘For a bath.’
‘Good.’ Inen reached into the folds of his clothes and pulled out a silver coin. He flipped it to him. ‘Go and get one.’
Bueralan caught the coin. ‘Thanks.’
‘Sir,’ the laudanum seller said, ‘allow me to accompany you and the fine lady out.’ She closed her bag and lifted it easily from the bar. The bottles, full and empty, clinked together in an odd tune. ‘Perhaps I might tempt you into buying some of my wares as well? They are one of the few pleasures left in Zajce. They are not made just from opium and alcohol, as in so many towns and cities, but are spiced with saffron and cinnamon and nutmeg – to name but a few. My goal is to make each drink a unique experience.’
‘I barely have enough for a bath,’ he said. ‘So, thanks, but no.’
The laudanum seller held the door open. ‘And you, sister?’
‘It’s not to my taste,’ Vach Sala replied politely. ‘I was surprised to see that Inen purchases from you, to be honest. I never see anyone here drinking laudanum.’
‘There must be secret vices, even in a den of avarice.’ She let the door close behind them and joined them on the street. ‘Perhaps you are not invited to the right rooms, at the end of the night?’
‘Perhaps,’ she admitted. ‘I also prefer wine.’
‘So long as you are not drinking the water from this town.’ The laudanum seller nodded to the tower ahead of them. Slaves were packed beneath it in a patch of shade. ‘I’ve seen the residents of the town urinating into those tanks.’
Sala laughed, but covered her mouth. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, after a moment. ‘But this morning I overheard a man complaining about a stomach bug. Perhaps caused by this?’
‘If he was a mercenary, then yes, I imagine so. Urine is the least of what goes into the water tanks.’ The seller shrugged. ‘Zajce is an angry town, and now, with the rumour of Mayor Kana returning, people are expressing that anger.’ In the middle of the street she shook Bueralan’s hand and then Sala’s. ‘Now, you must excuse me – another client awaits. She is not as good to me as the manager of The Last Courtesy, but we cannot love just one of our clients, now can we?’
After the laudanum seller left, Bueralan and Sala continued in silence. They passed the water tower and its mercenary guard. They wore the insignia of Echoes, but it was not until Sala led Bueralan into a three-storey, finely made brick house that he realized why so many soldiers were concentrated around the nearest tower. Inside, two dozen water barrels lined the hallway and the first two rooms. Ladles sat on the three barrels in the hallway. At the sight of them, Bueralan saw Sala smile, but she hid it quickly as she led him up two flights of stairs to a well-guarded door.
It opened onto a spacious room, revealing three occupants. The first was the large man from the night before, Kaala. The mercenary wore a sword at his waist. The other was a tall, thin white man with greying brown hair. Like Kaala, he wore a sword, but he stood rigid, as if in pain. Gertz, Bueralan assumed. The Captain of Echoes watched him intently, but did not immediately speak. The last person in the room was an overweight black woman who sat between the two mercenaries. She wore an expensive orange and red dress, and her greying hair was neatly arranged on top of her head.
‘Baron Bueralan Le,’ Lady Jaora said, but not in greeting. ‘I have heard a lot about you today. You have quite the reputation.’
There was a seat for him in the middle of the room. ‘Thank you,’ he said, taking it. Behind him, Sala leant against the door. ‘But I lost the title years ago. I’m just a humble mercenary now.’
‘How fortunate that you are in Zajce, then.’ She indicated the men on either side of her. ‘Gertz and Kaala believe you arrived by boat.’
‘I was on the Myntalo. Have you’ve heard of it?’ When she made no response, Bueralan shrugged. ‘It’s not much of a boat. It’s a small transport that runs up the coast of Gogair. It makes its home in Örd. I caught a ride until I didn’t need a ride.’
‘You left in the middle of Leviathan’s Blood?’ Gertz laughed sourly. ‘You aren’t telling us the whole truth.’
‘In Örd I met a woman. On Myntalo, I met her partner.’
‘As simple as that?’ Lady Jaora asked.
‘Does it have to be more complicated? I made a mistake, and I find myself here without much coin. Fortunately, there seems to be some work around.’
‘Yes, the boy said that.’ She spoke casually, but no one missed the pointed comment. Bueralan thought Gertz would speak, but instead the mercenary hunched into himself. ‘Why do you think I would hire you?’
‘According to Captain Khoury, there’s an army approaching.’
‘But I already have an army.’
‘One that’s no match for Scratch.’ Bueralan paused to let his comment sink in. He was pleased to see that none of the three seemed surprised by what he said. ‘That’s why you’re holed up in here with a good third of your force outside. You’re halfway to a siege already.’
‘The deterioration of the relationship between Makara and myself is unfortunate,’ Lady Jaora said. ‘I saw Zajce as a stepping stone for us. There is no future here on the edge of Gogair. Even that fool Mayor Kana knew that. It was why he had been left alone for so long. I thought Makara believed me, but after we marched Kana off the edge of the peninsula, he changed his mind. The final straw for me was when he began to build that port. He has persisted, despite our differences, and is now building a wall around the town.’
‘Two mercenary groups and two leaders. Is it truly a shock to believe you’re in this position?’
‘In hindsight, no,’ Lady Jaora said. ‘That is why I may have a job for you, but—’
‘Gertz disagrees,’ he finished.
‘I do,’ the mercenary said, straightening painfully. ‘A man with a story like yours doesn’t just show up by chance.’
‘I’d be suspicious,’ Bueralan admitted. ‘I’d not quite believe the story about leaving a ship in Leviathan’s Blood, either. Then there’s my past.’ He shrugged. ‘But it is what it is. If you don’t want to offer me work, I can go to Khoury and take up her offer. Might be best, really.’ He rose from his chair.
‘Such confidence,’ Lady Jaora said. ‘What if I decided to have you killed before you reach that door, instead?’
‘By who?’ Bueralan glanced at Gertz and Kaala. Neither had reached for their swords. ‘They are both killers, it’s true, but I’m not a child, and I like my chances in this room. I’d kill Gertz first. He might be faster, but I’ve got size and strength on him, and he’s not well. Kaala doesn’t have enough strength to take me. He doesn’t have the fitness, either. He’d be short work, after Gertz went down. That would leave just me and you – and I don’t fancy your chances, lady.’
‘Don’t forget the boy.’
‘She’ll not die for you.’
‘No?’ Lady Jaora offered a brief smile. ‘No, I suppose he won’t. But please, Bueralan, why don’t you re-take your seat. We can discuss what you think you are worth.’