Алексей Пехов - Shadow Chaser

“Did you hear? Tomorrow we set out bright and early; if the gods are kind to us, we’ll be in Zagraba in two days’ time.”

“I can’t say the idea pleases me all that much. I reckon it’s a lot safer sitting between stone walls than wandering through some gloomy old forest.”

“There are no safe places, Harold,” Honeycomb chuckled. “Death will creep in even through stone walls, it just depends what fate was written down for you when you were born. I remember there was a witch who predicted that Arnkh would drown. Arnkh just laughed at her, but now you see the way things have turned out.… If you’re afraid of wolves, don’t go to Zagraba.”

“If there were only wolves there…”

“True enough,” the giant agreed, taking a mouthful from his mug of beer. “Like I said—it’s fate.”

“I’ll go and get some sleep,” I said, getting up from the table. “I can’t sit here any longer.”

“Stay there, Harold-Barold, swig your wine,” said Kli-Kli, jumping to his feet. “No point in tempting fate!”

“Meaning what?” I asked, puzzled.

“There’s a rumor going round the guards at the gates that Balistan Pargaid has left.”

“So what?”

“When he arrived here with his men, there were twenty of them, but when he left, somehow there were only eighteen. One was run through by Mumr, and that leaves nineteen. Where’s the other one got to?”

“Paleface!” I felt my mouth turn dry instantly. “Maybe I’ll stay and drink a little more after all.”

“That’s right,” the goblin said with an approving nod, “wandering around the castle on your own would not be good for you.”

“Have they tried to find him?”

“Are you joking? They’ve crept into all the nooks and crannies.… But in a humungous place like this, you could hide a mammoth and no one would find it until it died and started to stink. So imagine how hard it is to find a man.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before?”

“I didn’t want to upset you and spoil your appetite,” Kli-Kli said, giving me an innocent look.

“Scat, get out of my sight. You’re worse than the plague.”

“Don’t take it so badly, Dancer, after all, we’re with you. I think I’ll take a drink as well, to keep you company. Do you think they’ll bring me some milk if I ask?”

“Maybe…” The only thought in my head right now was of Paleface.

For some reason I never doubted for a second that he had stayed behind after the count’s detachment left in order to dispatch your humble servant into the light. Thoughts like that did nothing to improve my mood, and I could barely wait for the end of this dreary rigmarole of pompous speechifying and singing to the health of all the warriors. When I did finally get back to my room, to settle my nerves I checked the windows, the doors, and the chimney. The chimney was too narrow; there wasn’t much chance Paleface would be able to get in that way. The bar on the door was a hefty oak beam, and the windows were fifty yards above the ground; there was no way Paleface could climb up that way—not unless he could fly, that is.

Kli-Kli, Hallas, and Deler had fallen asleep long ago, but I still couldn’t nod off. I just lay there on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, until eventually sleep overcame me, too.

I was woken by a fiendish howl of pain that made me tumble out of bed, grab my crossbow, and squat down. I swung my head around drowsily, trying not to make myself a target and wondering what exactly was going on.

“What happened?” yelled Deler.

“Hey! Is everything all right in there?” someone shouted outside the door.

“Who screamed like that?” Deler asked again.

“Let’s have some light!”

“Open the door!” Honeycomb shouted, pounding on it with his fists.

There was a scraping sound and a shower of sparks, and a candle lit up in Hallas’s hand.

“Why are you yelling like fishwives at the market, it’s all over,” the gnome grumbled, lifting the candle to light a torch.

“Hey, you! Do you hear me? Open the door!” Honeycomb shouted, straining his lungs to the limit.

“Stop yelling! Just a moment!” said Hallas, moving the bolt to open the door and let Honeycomb and Eel into the room. Some of Algert Dalli’s soldiers peeped in at us from the corridor.

“What happened in here?”

“Some mountain-climber tried to get through the window and I swelped him with Deler’s ax, to teach him not to go disturbing decent folks at night by climbing in their windows,” Hallas muttered.

The window was open, Deler’s bloody ax was standing by the wall, and there was a severed hand lying on the floor. Someone had just lost the end of his left arm.

It turned out that Hallas had woken up in the night and taken a walk to answer a gnomish call of nature. When he came back to the room, he had decided to light up his pipe, but he opened the window so that the room wouldn’t get smoky. Literally a minute later a hand had appeared from outside, followed by another. Hallas had quite correctly decided that normal people sleep at that time of night, and don’t go climbing up sheer walls like spiders, so he’d picked up the dwarf’s ax and hit the hand that was nearest to him.

“And then you lot started yelling,” the gnome concluded.

“Honeycomb, let’s go and check,” said Eel, making for the door.

“What for?” Hallas asked in amazement. “After a tumble from this height, he’s not just going to get up and walk away.”

“We’ll find out who it was.”

Eel, Honeycomb, and the guardsmen left. I cautiously stuck my head out the window and looked down. Just as I thought, there was no body on the ground. Soldiers were running round the castle courtyard with torches, but I could tell that they hadn’t spotted anyone, only heard the screaming.

“Harold, is this Paleface’s?” Kli-Kli asked, holding the severed hand squeamishly by one finger.

“How should I know? It looks like his, the fingers are slim, like Rolio’s, but I can only say for certain if I see the assassin himself.”

“I see,” said Kli-Kli, casually tossing the hand out the window.

“And what in darkness made you take my ax, couldn’t you have used your mattock?” Deler grumbled, carefully wiping down the terrible blade with a little rag.

“You’re so possessive, Deler,” Hallas said resentfully. “A real dwarf. All your beardless tribe are the same.”

“Just look who’s talking,” Deler retorted. “When it comes to taking what belongs to others, you’re the champions!”

“We take what belongs to others? We do?” said the gnome, starting to get heated. “Who was it that took the books? Who was it that stole the books of magic, you tell me that?”

“What makes you think they’re yours? They’re ours, we just lent them to you for a while!”

Hallas started to choke on his indignation. The gnome was still searching for an adequate reply when Eel and Honeycomb came back. Alistan followed them in.

“Not a thing,” Honeycomb said with a wry grimace. “No body, no blood, as if there was never anybody there. The guards have combed the entire courtyard—not a trace.”

“Have you got the Key, thief?” Alistan Markauz asked.

“Yes, milord.”

“Good,” the count said with a nod, and left.

“Let’s get some sleep,” sighed Hallas, who was feeling chilly, and he closed the window. “We’ve got another day in the saddle tomorrow, and I still want a good night’s rest. Deler, lock the door and put out the torch.”

“So I’m your servant now, am I?” the dwarf grumbled, but he closed the door, after first telling Eel: “You wake us up in the morning.”