“The tavern at Midendo,” I said.
“It’s worth a try,” Panchez agreed.
“If you’re right, I owe you a drink or seven,” I told him.
“We’ve drink enough in the stores,” Panchez said. “If you want to do me a favour, ask the Hammer to let me in on the fight against those bastards camped outside our gates.”
I rode south, as fast as the mare, the darkness, the poor state of the road and the need to carry my lantern in one hand would allow me — which wasn’t very fast at all. Still, I was confident that even the trot we managed would be enough to gain on Malekrin. He’d have been weary, confused, unsure of his direction. After our dramatic arrival in the subterranean harbour, the long flight through the tunnels under the mountain and then clambering through the wreckage beneath the barracks, he might even have had to waste a few hours in resting.
Which reminded me: when had I last slept? Certainly it hadn’t been today, and before that my memories became blurry. Even the events of the morning seemed a great distance away. When, for that matter, had I eaten? I resolved that whatever else I did when I arrived in Midendo, I’d spend a little time addressing my own neglected bodily needs. For what good would it do me, Kalyxis or anyone if I should keel over from exhaustion?
Now that I was conscious of my tiredness, however, the distant prospect of rest was of little comfort. As the hours wore by, I found myself nodding more and more in the saddle — and on a couple of occasions, even waking with a frightened jolt to find the horse still trotting beneath me. I grew anxious that I’d miss the turning I sought, though there were few enough junctions on the road. But even fretfulness wasn’t enough to keep me fully awake. I could hear the river murmuring a lullaby somewhere to my left, and the blustering rain made the trees sigh and the grass whisper beside me. In desperation, I began to sing to myself, and when the sound became too strange amidst the night-time quiet, to talk to my horse, narrating choice highlights of my recent adventures.
I was just detailing how I’d almost single-handedly defeated the deadliest assassins of two lands when I realised there was a track winding off from the main road ahead, and a finger post offering directions in black letters seared into the wood. Sure enough, under the lantern light I could read the ill-scrawled word Midendo.
As I took the turnoff, I wondered what portion of the night I’d ridden through. The moon was lagging in the eastern portion of the sky, as if it too had worn itself out. Though the darkness was thicker than ever beyond the circle of my lamplight, I guessed that dawn might not be too far off.
It wasn’t long before I crested a ridge and saw Midendo before me, nestled cosily in the cleavage of two hills. Midendo was a nothing of a place; folks thereabout considered it a town, but it was hardly large enough to warrant the description, and far enough off the main road that no one was ever likely to stumble upon it by accident. I supposed it was left over from before the Sabre was built in Altapasaeda, when the only bridge had been the one that crossed the Casto Mara to the south and the highway had seen regular traffic. Now, from what I knew, Midendo served primarily as a hub for the nearby villages, with its small market and of course its tavern, the Nine Lights.
That was an ironic enough name from my point of view, for the tavern — and indeed the entire village — was sunk in darkness as I drew close. Deciding that I’d sooner not draw attention, I tied the mare off in a thicket beside the dirt road, extinguished my lantern and continued on foot.
I made it to the Nine Lights without difficulty, seeing no one and confident no one had seen me. I doubted there was anyone around in Midendo at such an hour, and I was certain it had no guard, for what was there here that anyone could possibly want to steal?
Then again, what I was about to do might well be deemed criminal — for the Nine Lights was locked up for the night, and I was hardly about to start hammering to be let in if there was a chance that Malekrin was asleep inside. A quick inspection revealed a small door at the back in addition to the main entrance; of the two, that seemed best suited to my needs. I’d hoped it might be unlocked in a place as quiet as Midendo, but a gentle push proved otherwise. Still, it might as well have been for the easy work I made of it with my picks. I had the lock sprung in seconds, and opened the door with a soft shove, slipping in through the gap.
There was a kitchen beyond, as I’d guessed there might be — and I was in luck. I’d had images of having to break into every room in the place, until I found either Malekrin or someone who could help me; but asleep before the fire, in a great rocking chair that creaked in time with her snores, was a plump, grey-haired woman I took for the tavern’s proprietor.
There was no time for niceties. I tapped her roughly on the shoulder. Her eyes opened a slit — and then very wide. “Aagh! Thief! Va-”
I clapped my hand over her mouth and held it there, despite her wriggling and considerable strength. “Calm down,” I hissed, “and listen. I’m not here to hurt you. If I was, wouldn’t I have done it by now? I’m here on behalf of the Altapasaedan City Guard and there’s good coin in it for you if you’ll help me… but I need you to be quiet, all right?”
After a moment’s thought, she nodded as well as she could; when I removed my hand, however, she gave me the filthiest of scowls. “What kind of guardsman breaks into a woman’s tavern?” she asked, still louder than I’d have liked.
“Please, keep your voice down. I never said I was a guardsman; I’m just here on their behalf. I’m looking for someone who might be staying here. It’s important, and I can’t have them knowing I’m here.”
“I’ve only the one guest,” she said, “and he’s a strange one. I can’t think what you’d want with him.”
My heart throbbed in my chest, as if my ribs had become a closing fist. I hardly dared ask, though I knew I had to. “Strange how, exactly?”
“In every way you can think of. He’s almost too young to be wandering around on his own, and he hardly seems to know where he is. He’s dressed up in skins and furs like a trapper, and he’s dark enough to have been living outside all his life, but he talks like he’s somebody and he’s got good coin, though even that’s not proper-”
“All right, all right,” I said, breaking in upon her flow before her volume could escalate any further. “That’s who I’m looking for.” My mind was whirling, as I tried to figure out my next step through a haze of tiredness. I was close, but there was still ample scope for everything to go wrong if I wasn’t careful. “Does his room have a lock?” I asked.
“Of course. This is a quality establishment. All my rooms have locks,” she said. “To discourage disreputable types,” she added pointedly.
Quality establishment or no, I didn’t need her to tell me that those locks wouldn’t be anything I could pick; more likely, the rooms would be secured with something as crude as a bolt or bar. Maybe I could kick Malekrin’s door in if I paid her enough in advance, but just then I wasn’t sure I’d have the strength — and if it took me more than a couple of attempts, he’d be out the window and gone.
No, there’d be no kicking in of doors. I had a better idea. “He’s your only guest, you say? The only one staying upstairs?”
She nodded.
“Well then, here’s what we’re going to do…”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I was jolted awake by a vast noise of crashing and rattling — and even though I’d been expecting it, I couldn’t but stare around in confusion for a moment.
The taproom of the Nine Lights was still lit by the glow from the fireplace at my back, but now there was also a little pale daylight seeping through the narrow windows. At the far end of the room, at the foot of the staircase, Malekrin lay sprawled.