Heppelthwaite Alething had never heard of a mercenary company calling themselves the Black Sisterhood. That would not be a problem. If they had been operating in Carenburh for years, some of his contacts would know all about them.
Before he confronted these mercenaries, he had to take care of something. He was about dead on his feet. To many humans, dalibor may all be hyperactive little gremlins. True, dalibor could easily lapse into a frenzy, particularly when working on something novel. But they quickly burnt through what little stores of energy they had. It had been a long day, and Hep was just about drained. He could fix that. He might pay for it tomorrow, but he could get through the rest of the day.
Bogrum’s Fine Pastries was in the Sliver, not far from Hep’s flat. Hep was pretty sure that Bogrum was not the zlobra’s original name. He was certain that the pastries were not fine. Filling, yes. One could sit in a consumer’s stomach for days. Unusual, yes. The zlobra did not grow wheat in Ogakwa, and Bogrum still made what he thought was puff pastry out of acorns. Hep did not drag himself into Bogrum’s for the food, however. He was after the brka.
Only zlobra know how to make brka. Most other species believe that only zlobra should be allowed to consume it. Some nations classified feeding brka to non-zlobra as a felony.
Properly made, brka is too thick to be a beverage but too thin to be a custard. True brka is jet black when looked at from any angle more than thirty-six degrees from its surface. Lower than that, it turns blood red. (Human blood, or dalibor blood. Zlobra blood is green.) To a zlobra, brka is a fine pick-me-up with the added benefit of dissolving any of Bogrum’s pastries they might have just eaten. Its effect on anyone else has been described as being filled from toe to top with dragon fire. The drinker thinks they can do anything for a few hours. Then they burn out and are left feeling like a smoking pile of ashes.
Hep was an irregular customer of Bogrum’s. He had partaken of this least favorite but most effective stimulant enough that Bogrum knew it would not kill the dalibor. Still, Bogrum handed Hep his brka reluctantly. The big zlobra held the shot glass delicately betwixt thumb and forefinger. Hep took it and downed the brew in two gulps. He set the glass down before he dropped it.
A searing heat began to emanate from Hep’s stomach as soon as the brka hit it. A series of tremors accompanied the inferno. Hep’s muscles all momentarily locked up, his body instinctively doing what it could to keep his arms and legs from flailing uncontrollably. Then, Hep inhaled a great lungful of air. He punched forward, putting his whole body behind it, right into a cushion held in front of him by Bogrum.
Hep shook his head, again in control of his body.
“Thrglm,” he said. It would be a few minutes before his thoughts slowed down enough for his mouth to keep up.
“Don’t mention it. I keep thinking the top of your head will fly right off,” said the zlobra.
As Hep had predicted, finding out about the Black Sisterhood was not difficult. It was a small group, just six members, all women. Officially, they specialized in security and bodyguard details. Unofficially, they could be counted on for the odd spot of larceny or banditry. Nothing Hep heard indicated they could pull off something as complex or as subtle as the Naram murders. They would be tools, nothing more.
Hep stood across the street from the Sisterhood headquarters in Ten Bears, a working class neighborhood. Hep’s information was that all of the group’s members lived there as well as worked out of it. The row house seemed small to contain living quarters for six as well as meet the needs for even a small company - an armory, a place to train, a place to plan operations, a place to meet with clients. Then Hep noticed the house next door. Someone who was not paying close attention would see curtains and other ornaments that made the windows look not unlike those in every other house on the block. Hep could tell that they were, in fact, blacked out, not showing any of the rooms behind them. It was a not uncommon ruse. Rent out the bottom floor to make the house look lived in. Knock out the walls between the neighboring houses’ upper floors. Instant mansion, without the tax consequences.
Hep stepped across the road and rang the headquarters’ doorbell. His summons was not answered promptly. Nor within a justifiable period of time. They were playing a game. They had seen him on the street or on the stoop and recognized him. There were not many dalibor in Carenburh, after all. They knew he worked for the Duke. They could have been polite and accommodating. Instead, they are trying to establish their dominance. Whoever acted next would show weakness and would struggle to control the conversation to come. That was fine with Hep. Either curiosity or fear would drive them to open the door, more likely sooner rather than later.
The door opened after a couple of minutes. That was less than Hep would have guessed. Someone inside must be nervous.
“What do you want?” growled a tall, wide-shouldered human woman. She matched the description Hep had of Erlanda Knifesdotta, the captain of the Black Sisterhood. She was wearing a chainmail shirt over a gambeson. Her short, dark hair was matted with sweat. Perhaps Hep had interrupted a training session.
“I come from the Duke,” Hep lied. “There is a matter of great import I need to discuss with you and your company.”
Erlanda looked uncertain. If the Sisterhood had indeed come to the attention of the Duke themselves, then not talking to Hep would have consequences. Consequences like a troop of soldiers showing up to escort them to the dungeons below Star’s Grace. If Hep could prove they had violated one of the Duke’s laws, though, he would have shown up with the selfsame troop of soldiers. Talking to him could just give him information he would need to have them arrested.
Hep stepped forward, forcing the mercenary captain to make her decision. Stand firm and risk arrest or give way and let Hep interrogate the company. She retreated.
“Very well. Follow me. We were in the middle of a planning session anyway,” Erlanda said.
She led the way along a hallway. They passed a room with a desk, a couple of chairs in front of it, and a small wet bar along the back wall. Hep assumed it was the captain’s office and where she usually met with clients and other visitors. She did not want to talk to him alone.
They stopped at a large room dominated by a long table. Maps of the city and surrounding countryside covered the walls. Four women sat in chairs around the table. All were almost as brawny as their leader. The slender knife-buyer was absent.
Erlanda sat at the head of the table. She motioned for Hep to have a seat at the other end of the table. That would never do. A dalibor in a human-sized chair would never exude authority. Hep hopped up on the table itself.
He started pacing back and forth along the table. He introduced himself before the mercenaries could recover from their surprise.
“As you might know, I am Heppelthwaite Alething. I represent the Duke themselves in this matter. My aim is to determine exactly how your company is involved,” he said. Leave them with some uncertainty about the particular “matter” he was investigating. They were involved in enough illegal activities that it might not be the Naram murders. Surely, he could not have connected them so quickly.
“Before I continue,” he said, “I see that one of your number is not present. I do want to talk to all of you together. My time is valuable. Might she be about? Can you summon her?”
“Um,” Erlanda hesitated. The other mercenaries looked uneasy. “She’s out at the moment. We have an operation in a couple of days. We’re low on some supplies. She’s out buying some more.”
“It must not be a large purchase, to send out one lone woman.” Hep waved a hand dismissively. “Tell me about this operation.”
Erlanda, who had been slouching, visibly straightened.
“Archmage Mysella of Krondak will be visiting the city. The Black Sisterhood will ensure her safety while she is here.” The company captain’s voice grew stronger. She was obviously proud of this commission. It was, Hep knew, much more prestigious than one of the company’s standard jobs.
“And who contracted you for this undertaking?” Hep asked.
“The archmage has an agent in the city to look after her interests here.” The never inscrutable Erlanda now looked confused. Wasn’t Hep here about something the company had done in the past? He was here about the archmage’s visit?
“And this agent was the person who instructed you to buy the knife?” asked Hep.
“Knife? What knife?” Erlanda might be a good warrior, perhaps even a decent tactician in a fight. She was failing to keep up with the darting aim of Hep’s questions.
“The rest of you. Who purchased the knife? Was it any of you?” Hep’s gaze lingered momentarily on each of the other mercenaries. Each shook her head in turn.
“Then, it must have been your missing member. Maybe she did not inform the rest of you of her involvement in this matter. Did she think she had something to prove to you all? Did she want to keep all of the compensation for herself? Was she just bored?
“What was her name again?” Hep addressed Erlanda.
“Tamara would never do such a thing! The Sisterhood is united. None of us would take a solo commission.” Now, Erlanda was angry.
“Thank you. Even if Tamara purchased the knife, you were all involved. That is good to know. Is this commission with the archmage your reward? After all, there are more prestigious, more capable companies in Carenburh. I dare say that the archmage could afford their fees. Why did she hire you?” Hep knew how to manipulate the company commander now. Insult her pride, and she would not be able to keep her mouth in check.
Indeed, she stood, back straight, hands on hips, as imposing a figure as she could make without a weapon in her hands.
“The Black Sisterhood,” she said evenly, “is the best all-woman company in the city. We are the equal of any male company. We support other women in business. The archmage wished to do the same.”
Hep walked up to her. He looked her directly in the eyes.
“You are telling me, the Duke’s investigator, that no one from the Black Sisterhood was involved in the murder of Lady Ambassador and Lord Naram this morning? You are telling me that the black iron knife found at the scene was not purchased by the conveniently missing Tamara? You are telling me that your being contracted to bodyguard a prestigious foreign visitor at this time is mere coincidence?
“It is good that you are telling me this. If I believed any of what you tell me not to be true, I would have to believe that you were all guilty of high treason.”
Erlanda made to grab Hep. She stopped when she saw the out-of-focus point of the dalibor’s dagger an inch from her left eye.
“I know knives, too. Now, I have several things to tell to you. You should believe all of them to be true. Things will go better for you if you do. First, I will be leaving now. You would be able to stop me. If you try, your captain, and probably others of you, will die. Second, you will not be able to leave the city until I have concluded my investigation. You are free to go about your business within the city. Your movements will be noted. Third, if your actions, those you have performed in the past and those you will perform in the future, violate the Duke’s laws, they will beget consequences.
“The four of you, get up and line up on the back wall. Slowly.” Hep did not look away from the captain’s eyes. “Captain, you will not move until I have left the building. I will make sure to close the door loudly on my way out, so you will know that I am gone. Do not bother to nod. I am just as happy to leave you here dead as alive. You get to choose which.”
With that, Hep jumped off the table and strode arrogantly out of the room. Out of the sight of the company, he ran down the hall. No need to give them more time than necessary to get their wits about them. As he left, he slammed the front door, as he had promised.
That had gone about as well as it could have. Hep was now certain that the Black Sisterhood had staged the scene of the crime. Perhaps this Tamara on her own, perhaps with one or two more. That much blood would have been cumbersome, after all. Either way, Hep guessed that Tamara was much more intelligent, at least craftier, than the rest of the company. That group’s idea of bodyguarding would be to make a show of strength with two or three well armed and armored thugs. They would frighten off the casual mugger. They would be hopeless against a professional killer, as Hep well knew.
Attempting to focus attention away from the true culprit did not make the Sisterhood murderers. Hep was convinced that the ambassador and her husband were dead when the Sisterhood arrived on Greyfont Drive. The bodies had shown no signs of premortem violence. That was not the Sisterhood’s way of doing things. Besides, someone had to have let them into the house, at least leaving a door unlocked. There had been no signs of forced entry.
No, the Sisterhood were pawns. They would eventually receive their just punishment. For now, it was better to leave them free. Hep had already hired a few of his less reputable associates to keep the company’s headquarters under observation. One of the Sisterhood, probably Erlanda herself, would be leaving as soon as they thought Hep was well away. She would either be going to wherever the missing member was hiding or to the archmage’s agent, possibly both. Anyone who left the house would be followed.
The archmage was a concern. Hep had not heard about her visit. That meant it was a private affair, not a diplomatic one. Why would one of Krondak’s ruling council be coming to Carenburh and not meeting with the Duke? Was she involved in the plot to kill the Narams, or was she to be the next victim? Whichever was the truth, her involvement made a complicated, lamentable affair potentially catastrophic.
It was time to meet the Major at the Mermaid’s Daughter. Hep would have preferred to meet in her office for privacy. Hep appreciated that she was trying to meet him on equal terms. They were cooperating in this matter, not competing. He hoped she had as much information for him as he had for her.
Den of the Red Wolf 