A Clash of Shadows (9 page)

“Well,” Katja said to the environment. They exited the street and it seemed they had arrived.

The day’s commerce had reached its peak for today and was just starting to wane, so there were still plenty of people. Sipping houses seemed even more popular here than in Amerstan and at a glance she could see six little buildings where customers sat on stools beneath the sky with mugs in their hands.

Noting the clothing was interesting. The proportion of well-dressed people didn’t seem too dissimilar to that of Amerstan and Baldur’s City, but the clothes were even more ornate. Not only were they mostly made of coloured velvet, but also decorated with all kinds of accessories Katja didn’t even have names for. Shining buttons, silk scarves and gold jewellery were ubiquitous among those with the means. 

Katja hadn’t seen such things growing up in a quarry village and couldn’t help but feel a certain awe at all this wealth. But on the other hand she found the ostentatiousness excessive, leaning towards tastelessness. Were people engaged in some sort of contest?

And on the flipside the rags in this city were even raggier than she was used to. She didn’t care for it.

“I will take your horse,” Serdra said and bobbed her head a bit towards the square. It was evidently up to Katja to handle the communications. She needed to learn more than combat and Serdra’s mien was ever off-putting. She handed the woman the lead and separated from her.

There was much to see at the square, but in spite of different clothes and food and instruments the mood in general was familiar.

People talked about anything and everything as was to be expected. But among the snippets of personal chat, haggling and general news she caught whispers and sometimes exclamations about this terrible fiend that had run wild so close to the city. She even spotted a few talismans. Too bad reliable sources told her those didn’t work.

Where and how to start? Farnar City was populous, but if she just walked about and asked people at random it might nevertheless draw attention.

She spotted a tea house where a small crowd of people in average clothing sat sipping and talking. It seemed as good a place to start as any. She walked to the window that the owner stood by and bought herself a mug of green tea along with a small bun. The money came out of Maron’s pocket and would last a long time for such everyday expenses.

Katja examined the seating area in front of the house. She tried to be quick and nonchalant about it, but was in fact looking for a good place for eavesdropping.

She chose a stool where most of the people would have their backs to her. She dipped the bun in the tea and pretended to be occupied by it.

The people were mostly discussing the same topics as the crowds and though no one was loud the voices held considerable tension. It sounded like people were arguing about the presence of mercenaries in the city. Some defended the chancellor’s decision to call the Sparrows, as they were called, to the city when they had been meant to go to the northern territories. Others insisted they were ruffians and that the decision had nothing to do with the city’s safety.

The latter ones were convinced it was purely done to take the airs out of some lord Katja had never heard about, and at the worst possible time at that.

“There is no end to conflicts over the Grinvin lands and Lava City!” hissed the most passionate one. “Magni the Red committed one last act of mischief by dying without naming an heir. Why do you think the price of iron has gone up in the Stonefoot lands? People are arming. And the chancellor weakens the border defences to get back at one man! There is no
wisdom
in that!”

“Watch what you say,” an older woman close to him said. “There is also no honour in earning a flogging.”

The man looked around. He seemed to be checking for listeners. He noticed her and Katja wished she had hidden the sword under the cloak as she sat down. He took some interest in her but looked away quickly.

“The security of the north is in everyone’s interest,” he said with a bit more restraint.

“And what about the city’s security?” a middle-aged man with a belly asked and sipped his tea. “I don’t want this monster causing such chaos within the walls.”

“What is this talk of monsters?” Katja said and tried to sound casual. “I just stepped off a ship.”

The people looked at her and some seemed irritated about the conversation being invaded. Perhaps this was a private party to some degree.

“A terrible monster rampaged a few days ago,” the older woman said. “It came out of the night and tore into everything in its path.”

“Indeed?” Katja said and scratched her head. “And it’s not a tall tale? People can exaggerate...”

“There were dozens of witnesses,” the passionate man said. “And those eleven who died were not torn apart by a nightmare or a howling wind.”

“A cousin of mine saw it,” a man said. “It came out of the forest west of Bytna. When people scattered every which way it chased some poor man to the Rose Manor and apparently vanished there.”

“Oh... indeed,” Katja said and hoped she knew how to fake astonishment. “Was it the work of a sorcerer?”

“No one knows for certain,” the woman said. “Accusations fly in every direction, but no one has been arrested.”

“Still, two men were found on a path in the forest,” the older woman said. “Struck by the steel of men. Something happened in that forest,” she added darkly. “And someone in this land knows what it was.”

They seemed to want to continue their original discussions, but she put more effort into faking surprise and unease.

“I... I am headed north. Where was this, you say?”

“The area is named Bytna,” the older woman said. “It’s a small cluster of houses an hour’s ride to the north. But the monster was last seen by the manor, some way east of there. The chancellor’s men have encircled the building out of fear of it returning.”

“Do you think the route is safe?”

“People say the demon quite literally vanished, so perhaps it has gone back where it came from for good. But I would not venture near the manor. Swerve past it, and in the day time at that.”

“Now now, girl. There was a man just earlier asking very similar questions,” the passionate fellow said and pointed north. “Won’t you go find him and compare your findings? He had a grey bag hat and a grey jacket with wide sleeves.”

Perhaps that’s not a bad idea,
Katja thought to calm her feelings at the rudeness. She had perhaps already drawn too much attention anyway.

She excused herself, returned the mug and walked slowly north. She looked for hats in the ocean of heads. She poked the occasional passer-by and repeated the description she had been given and it wasn’t long before a scribe with a long beard pointed her to another sipping house close by.

Katja jogged past people and beasts and arrived at the place. The house was small and the stools out front were virtually unoccupied. She saw no grey hat so she walked towards the door, a moment before it opened from the inside.

And there he stood.

He was her own height, sturdily built and with a torn ear and broken nose.

It was him. The Brotherhood man she had first met in Baldur’s City. The one who had stabbed her to near-death in the forest.

He seemed startled for a moment, but recovered quickly.

“Oh my,” he said smirking, “good to see you again.”

The fear from that night now broke out as rage and Katja reached for the sword. He slid his hand under the jacket he wore, but indicated the crowds with his eyes on her. It reminded her of Serdra.

Broad daylight. And people all around.

Once he saw she wasn’t going to attack him the man relaxed a bit. He looked at a stool, seemed to think for a moment and then sat down opposite Katja.

“Are you out shopping?” she asked coolly.

“Are you?” he replied and smiled with one corner of his mouth.

They locked gazes. Katja couldn’t pretend she was here by coincidence and he seemed to know she wouldn’t believe it about him either.

There was a strange honesty in this meeting, after all the secrecy.

They continued staring at one another. The man was outwardly calm, but she thought she saw tension. He was ready for anything.

“You stabbed me,” she said harshly. She felt a bit foolish for it, but somehow felt it had to come out.

“I certainly did,” Vajan said and smiled again. “Did you know that that earns prestige within...” He looked around. “Well, within the group? It’s rather amazing how much they hate your lot, considering that most have never met one of you. It’s rather humorous, actually.”

“They?” Katja said. “Aren’t you one of them?”

“Eh, some don’t feel that way. Since there isn’t incontroversial evidence that I can trace my lineage back to Vendyha’s power families.”

“So you get excluded, poor thing?” Katja asked, but couldn’t put much mockery in her tone. Sitting here and talking to him was so strange. She was so accustomed to hiding. But here the enemy sat before her eyes, beneath a bright sky. And they were talking. Did the Shades feel something like this when they spoke to her?

“I have to earn my status,” the man answered and didn’t let himself be greatly bothered. “And I have done so. I consider that nobler than inherent gifts,
Red
.”

The last word was spoken with force and Katja finally detected rancour.

“Well, but my gifts are not inheritance,” Katja said. “And I at least can say in seriousness that I am more important than others.” She managed to squeeze out a bit of humour.

“You die like any other though,” Vajan immediately countered with.

“And how do you know that? No one has succeeded yet.”

The man laughed a bit but something was missing in the sound. He sipped his tea without taking his eyes off her and leaned forward.

“Can I convince you to tell me your name?”

“Why?”

Vajan shrugged.

“Let’s just call it curiosity. I have never spoken to one of you. And I must say I prefer knowing the people I clash with.”

“Anna.”

“Anything more than that?”

“No.”

“Well, but tell me something and now I am asking you a favour: How did old Tovar take his fate? Were you present for it?

“Present?” Katja said and now it was her turn to smirk a bit. “I most certainly was.”

“Oh, don’t keep me in suspense,” the man said and was clearly enjoying the subject.

“He was terribly disappointed,” Katja said and saw in her mind the look the fire had illuminated in the darkness. “I have never seen anything like it. He knew he was dying and all his plans lost.”

Vajan smiled and seemed absent for a moment. He was no doubt picturing Katja’s descriptions.

“Is the plan to kill his boy too?” the Brotherhood man then asked. “He was terribly annoying.”

“It’s being planned, yes.”

She saw nothing wrong with giving this bastard false information.

“But what were you doing, speaking of nobility?” she then asked. “I have seen what you people do.”

The Brotherhood man snorted.

“What we do? Try to gain power? There is no sense in condemning us for having more powerful means for it than most. We are just fighting for our standing.”

“
I have seen what you people do
,” she repeated in a hiss. She thought about what she had seen on Flat Top and the monsters in the Nest.

“Have you seen battlefields?” he asked with some contempt and a defiant gaze. “You speak with the Coast accent. We were right in assuming you are fresh. You know nothing of the world or its realities. You are a child and simply followed your instincts into battle without understanding it.”

“You don’t understand
me
, no matter what you think,” Katja said. “I was born to fight and kill,” she continued. She leaned forward and felt the power of the words carry into her gaze. “And  I intend to prove it to you.”

“That should-”

“I look forward to seeing you make the same expression as your friend Tovar.”

They continued the mutual stare and he met her force with his own.

“Well,” he finally said and put on his boyish smile. “Shall we end this interesting discussion?” he said in a lighter tone.

“Sure. Shall we find ourselves a quiet alley?”

“I doubt a matured Red would dare committing an obvious murder under such circumstances,” Vajan said with a grin. “A child like you would have very slim chances after the deed. You would be executed by the very society you think you are defending.”

“Is that your way of pleading for mercy since you only have a knife?”

“We both know there will be no mercy in this game,” Vajan said and the killer was back in his eyes and voice.

He stood up. Katja reacted and did likewise. She glanced around. He had no clear way past her. She could block his way, but should she? How far away was the nearest guardsman? Could she vanish into the crowd before someone shouted murder?

“It has been a
true
pleasure speaking to you, Coast girl, but now we must part,” he said with sarcastic formalness. Katja was about to answer when he threw his tea into her eyes.