Брайан Макклеллан - Wrath of Empire

Burt leaned forward, grinning at her, and opened a box on his desk. “Cigar?”

“I would, thanks.” Vlora took one, figuring that she might as well enjoy a few minutes before the bastard tried to have her killed, and allowed him to light the end.

“Your name is …”

“Verundish,” Vlora said, using the name of an old military colleague. “I’m guessing you’re Brown Bear Burt.”

“That’s me,” Burt said cheerfully.

“You’re not very bearlike.”

“Just Burt will do,” he said. “Kill one big Ironhook grizzly with a lucky shot and suddenly people make it a nickname.” He spoke Adran without an accent – suspiciously so. A lot of Palo spoke Adran, but he sounded like he’d been born there.

Vlora puffed on the cigar. The tobacco was good – very good. She held it out, looking along the length for a tobacconist’s mark. It was a small spear with a circle around it. Nothing she recognized. She waved away a face full of smoke. “That’s a good cigar.”

“Little place off the coast I invested in a while back. Things go well, they’ll be selling them as far away as Strenland in a couple years.”

Vlora took another puff, then set the cigar carefully on the ashtray on Burt’s desk. She couldn’t let herself relax, not here. She’d already been introduced to the way people do business here by Jezzy’s Shovels, and even someone as skilled as she could wind up facedown in a ditch if she wasn’t careful. “Is there something I can help you with, Burt?”

“Hmm. Verundish, you said?”

“That’s right.”

Burt got to his feet, still puffing on his cigar, and walked over to the balcony to look down to the bar below. He returned to his desk, pouring a glass of whiskey and offering it to her. She declined, and Burt shrugged and took a sip. “Why are you here, Verundish?”

“Came looking for work.”

“That’s what you say. Yet you’ve already turned down my competitor, Jezzy.”

“I’m not looking for that kind of work,” Vlora said. “This town is going to explode one of these days – anyone can feel it – and I have no interest in being in the middle. I’d like something a little quieter.”

Burt took a seat, throwing his feet up on his desk. “Your companion, too? He’s looking for something quiet?”

“That’s the plan.”

Burt shifted in his seat. “See, now, that’s what’s so strange to me. Your kind doesn’t really attract quiet, do they? You’re too valuable for quiet work.”

“My kind?” Vlora was genuinely puzzled. Did he mean Adrans?

“Powder mages.”

Vlora stiffened, forcing herself not to reach for her pistol and blow Burt’s head off right here and now. She , Vlora Flint, was a celebrity and a renowned general. But there were still a lot of people in the world who had it out for powder mages without a name. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Burt rolled his eyes. “Don’t play coy, Verundish. I’ve got a Knacked on my payroll that can sense powder mages. Not a very useful Knack, but he’s a smart man, so I keep him around. He earned his pay when you walked into town.”

Vlora’s fingers crept toward her pistol. Behind the desk, with his line of sight, he wouldn’t be able to tell.

Burt continued before she could respond. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not threatening you or your companion. I’m not an idiot. Nor do I actually want to know what two powder mages are doing out here on the frontier looking for quiet work. If you’re keeping your heads down, I’m not the type of fool to bring that to anyone’s attention.”

“So what do you want?” Vlora asked coldly.

“Same as Jezzy wants. I just happen to know what you’re worth.” Burt took his feet down and leaned forward. “Come work for me – the two of you – and I’ll pay you five thousand krana up front and fifty thousand the first day of next spring. Each .”

Vlora couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows. He actually did know what a powder mage was worth, though he wasn’t sure who Vlora really was. That was an immense amount of money for a hired gun for six months of work. She wasn’t interested, of course, but at least she didn’t have to kill him. Yet.

She shook her head.

Burt frowned. “Eighty thousand.”

“Pardon?”

“Same offer. Eighty thousand krana.”

Vlora swore inwardly. If she was really a hired gun, she would jump on the offer in an instant. “It’s not about the money, I’m afraid.”

“What’s it about?”

She tried to come up with a better excuse, but found herself grasping at straws. Nobody turned down that kind of money. “I don’t want to get involved,” she said emphatically. “I want quiet work. Easy work. I’m not here to show off.”

“Ah.” Burt puffed on his cigar, examining her through half-closed eyes. “You’re hiding from something.” He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Again, I’m making no threats. Just an observation.”

Vlora knew the risk of such an excuse. If Burt wanted, he could try to blackmail her. But if he was as smart as he seemed, threatening a powder mage was probably low on his to-do list. “It’s not personal. If it makes you feel any better, your competitor isn’t going to get a rise out of either me or my companion, no matter how much she offers to pay. There are things worth more than money.”

“We agree on that, at least. A little quiet is priceless,” Burt said thoughtfully. He stood up again, clearly frustrated, and paced behind his desk. “If you’re not getting involved, you should probably get out of town.”

“I’m not going anywhere until a judge clears my companion.”

“I’d suggest you reconsider,” Burt said.

“Is that a threat?” Vlora asked, keeping her tone neutral.

“Not at all. It’s a friendly warning. You’re right when you say this town is hot. Fighting will break out eventually, and when it does, anyone with a weapon will be a target. What’s more, Jezzy doesn’t take no for an answer. You’re going to be a liability for her and, frankly, for me. I’ve got your assurances that you won’t get involved, but I don’t know you. You could be lying. Or things could just change.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

Burt showed her his empty hands. “Cross my heart. Just friendly advice.”

“I don’t know you, either.”

“ Touché .” Burt chuckled. “I think we each know where the other stands now, so I’m not going to waste any more of your time. One last offer: Come work for me.” Vlora tensed, looking over her shoulder. The sentence was too ominous not to be the precursor to some sort of retaliation if she said no. But the two of them were alone. Burt continued. “How about this: You sleep on it tonight. Talk to your friend at the town jail, and chew on this bit of information: Jezzy already has herself a powder mage. I’ll pay you two whatever you want to kill the bastard.”

Vlora rocked back. So that’s why Burt was so anxious to hire her and Taniel. Two powder mages to counter one. It was surprising information, and more helpful than Burt knew. A powder mage could sense another, so if Jezzy didn’t know what she and Taniel were yet, she would soon. And that complicated the pit out of their mission.

Things just kept getting worse and worse.

Vlora stood up, straightening her jacket. “I’ll take that under advisement. Thank you for being … polite.”

“Of course,” Burt said, raising his cigar. “But lest you think I’m too polite: I have people I trust who know what you are. If a bullet happens to find my brain, they’ll make sure that whatever you’re running from is able to find you. Understand?”