Jeff Salyards - Veil of the Deserters

Braylar looked closely at the girl. “And you think she possesses the requisite… skills?”

Mulldoos shook his head. “No plaguing idea. But the villagers seemed right certain she was thieving dreams.”

“Liars!” she spat.

Mulldoos looked ready to smack her again but didn’t. “True or false, they claimed she had a way of creeping into people’s skulls, especially when they were sleeping. Knew things she ought not to. So she’s got as good a chance as any of having some rogue blood in her. Which is to say, probably none. Villagers are superstitious whoresons who don’t know their asses from their faces. Still, she was the only one in the area. Me, I say we send for a proper Memoridon, and fuck the consequences. Bound to be one close. Guessing the Empire’s got one hounding us.”

Braylar didn’t respond with the venom I expected, especially given how he had dressed Mulldoos down only a few days ago. “No, Lieutenant. This is what we have to work with. Such as it is.” He stared at her. “So, girl, you deny being a dream thief, do you?”

She pushed some greasy hair out of her face. “Answered you already.”

Braylar rapped on the table. “You aren’t dim, lass. That much is certain. Which is good. I have absolutely no use for dimness. But impertinence will get you nowhere good here either. My man there might not be the most delicate solider alive, but he did rescue you from a decidedly bad fate. You would do well to cooperate now, lest you find yourself in equally dire straits tonight. What’s your name, girl?”

She tucked another strand behind her ear, and I thought she was close to feeling the back of the lieutenant’s hand again, when she said, quietly. “Junjee. Junjee Millstone.”

“Very good, Junjee. So. Your fellow Ashians, friends and family all, were ready to string you up, accusing you of sifting through dreams, and taking what you wanted. Yet you maintain you were completely innocent, yes? But let me put it to you one more time: can you do these things? I ask, not wanting to kill you for it, or punish you at all, but to preserve you, to save you, so that you can assist me. So answer, lass, and speak true.”

Junjee tilted that proud little chin up, looked him directly in the eye with the poise of a woman two or three times her age, and said, “I got no other answer for you but the one I gave already. Gave it and gave it and gave it. Got nothing left to say. So do what you do. Only know if you violate me, I’ll-”

“Bite my cock off. Yes. I do believe we’ve covered that.” Braylar glanced down, and the direction told me he was looking at Bloodsounder somewhere under the table. “You see, it so happens that I have dire need of someone with the skills you deny having. While it is true most of the known world would string you up for admitting to them, I am a Syldoon. I don’t know if you know much about Syldoon-”

“My ma always said you were murdering dogs.”

“Well, your mother wasn’t entirely wrong. But she also didn’t protect you behind her skirts when they came to string you up, did she?” He waited for her to answer, but she only maintained the haughty tilt of her chin. “Knowing a little of the Syldoon, then, you might also be aware that we make use of women who demonstrate this forbidden aptitude. So, now without family or friends, a penniless stranger in a huge city that will devour you at the slightest chance, I give you final opportunity to reconsider. I could offer you not only life, but a livelihood. You would be rewarded, highly regarded. So if it is fear that stops your tongue, girl, then-”

“My kin almost killed me yesterday. I got plenty to be afraid of. Terrified. Of everything. Got nothing now, just like you done said. So if I had what you asked for, or could fake it enough to fool you, I would. I’d give it. But they were going to string me up based on rumor and untruth. I can’t see dreams. And red as blood, I can’t steal none. Never stole nothing in my whole life.”

Braylar watched her face intently as she spoke, weighed her words for the truth or falsehood. Then he exhaled long and slow out his nose and nodded before getting to his feet and stepping back from the table. I had the terrible feeling he was going to have Mulldoos take her out and kill her in the alley or drop her in the canal. Only Mulldoos wouldn’t object like Dargus did.

Instead, Captain Killcoin said, “Very well, Junjee. Cut her free, Lieutenant. Give her some small coin and set her loose.”

Surprise flitted across Junjee’s face, and then whatever anger had been sustaining her drained away, and the chin fell a little. Mulldoos drew the long-bladed suroka, worked it between the ropes, cut through them. She continued looking at the captain the entire time. “Got nowhere… just letting me free?”

Braylar gave her a cold look. “Would you rather he cut your wrists instead of the rope?”

“No. Course not. It’s just-” She sniffled, then started to reach up to wipe her nose before Mulldoos snatched her hands and pulled them back down so he could finish the rope. “I thought… I figured I was your prisoner. Where do I go?”

Braylar replied, “That is entirely up to you. I would not recommend Ash Walk. You will have enough money to buy some clothes, and a few hot meals. After that…”

“You’re an army, ain’t you? Heard armies need pot scrubbers, needle pushers, and the like. I’m handy, I could-”

“We are not an army just now, and not on campaign even if we were. We have no use for you. You were only brought here on the chance that you could do what you were accused of. Nothing more.” He started to turn away to head back to his chamber.

The look on her face-the fear, desperation, anger, all washing into each other and not quite blending-was heartbreaking. I said, “Captain? What of the Grieving Dog? Couldn’t they use an extra hand sweeping, mucking stalls, fetching water? Something? If you put in a good word…”

Braylar stopped, still not turning around. I looked over and saw hope flash across the girl’s face, snatched away as Braylar said, mostly over his shoulder. “It amuses me you think we are clerics caring for the neglected and forgotten, archivist.” The rope was free and she rubbed her wrists slowly, looking defeated and lost and truly young for the first time.

The captain sighed and said, “Still, it doesn’t pain us to inquire, now does it? Vendurro, check with Gremete. Ask on my behalf, and see if they have need of a grateful and… spirited youth. Junjee, accompany him. If the Grieving Dog will have you, you will know immediately. If not, again, you are in a huge city. Opportunity around every corner.” He failed to mention the thieves, murderers, and rapists around every corner as well. Still. She was alive, and that was something. I hoped she would find a home here, or at least a start.

Junjee wiped her face on her sleeve, wincing as it crossed her bloodied nose and split lip. Then she straightened and said, “Awful thing when strangers are kinder than kin.”

“Sadly, you are not the first to say so,” Braylar replied. Then he started toward his room. “Mulldoos, it appears you still have hunting to do, and I still have copious amounts of alcohol to consume. Let us not dawdle.” And then he disappeared in the gloom and shut the door.

The middle of the next morning, there was a rapid knock on my door. I’d already washed in the basin and dressed, recorded the latest entry, and was ready to put something in my belly anyway, so I was moving to the door when the knock was repeated and I heard Vendurro say, “Quick and quicker, if you please, Master Quills.”

Stepping out, I saw Braylar and Mulldoos seated at the table in the common room, plates of pepper sausage, honey cakes, and a bowl of sliced squash and peas in front of them. Braylar seemed no worse than he had the previous few days, but certainly no better. Mulldoos looked at me briefly, his pale eyebrows bridged by a deep wrinkle, but he said nothing.