The Hands of Lyr (Five Senses Series Book 1) Read online

  “I am well aware of the debt which I owe to Lord Jarth, to you, to the rest of his company, but I would straightaway find myself in prison were it even to be suspected that I had provided you with what your lord wants!”

  It was plain to Kryn that Danus meant exactly what he said. He had been long enough in the company of the Master merchant to know that Danus was an honest man and the rumors which the guards had gathered bore him out in part. Only this morning Ruan had warned Kryn that he had little hopes of renewing their arms supplies here.

  “What I owe I pay,” Danus pulled from the baggy sleeve of his robe a purse bag. “Herein is what is equal to all I promised in my bond.” He set it firmly on the table before Kryn. The younger man made no attempt to touch it.

  “What good,” he flared with that small spurt of anger he dare loose from control, “is such? We cannot wear your largess on our backs for mail, draw it to the cord at our bows, swing it as swords! If I cannot gain what my lord needs in this benighted hole, then wherefore I go, merchant?”

  Danus sighed. “Were it the year’s second season, I would say to Wayport. But that is many days’ travel away and at this season the higher pass is certainly closed. With all honesty, Hold Heir, I can give you no helpful answer.”

  “Provisions, clothing for the cold season?” Kryn fell back on his second need.

  “Yes, on such there is no ban. Those I will gladly gather for you—even spare mounts, for with all the caravans returned and the pasturage limited, men will be willing to sell trail-seasoned ones.”

  Kryn’s eyes dropped from the hawk gaze he had held on the merchant to that pouch. To say that no one could buy arms in Kasgar—if this was like the northern society, he knew there might be ways and means—lawful or not. There were always some willing to weigh gain against law and have the scales tilt in the favor of gain. But it would take time—and at present he had no leads to such a market. He needed knowing a man like Smarle and here was no Smarle.

  “Lord Kryn, you and your men are welcome to this roof and to employment here—temporary if you wish it so.”

  Kryn’s eyes flashed back to meet Danus’s.

  “You expect some trouble, Master merchant?” he demanded.

  “There are rumors and always behind such lie the seeds of truth. In the past three ten-days five have died—three men, two women. The priests talk of plague. But what kind of a plague seeks out not the poor, as heretofore, but rather picks and chooses its victims among those of property and rank? We are ruled by Judges who in turn appoint three overseers, as perhaps you have heard. This is not a country of many lordlings and a king such as you knew.

  “It is none of the three who have been sought out by this strange death, rather those who were their strongest supporters in the Council.”

  “Plague—or assassination!” Kryn shot at him. This smacked of the intrigue which had blasted his own life—turning seemingly sworn friends into secret enemies.

  Danus drew a deep breath. “Be careful in your speech, lord.” He shot glances to right and left as if to be sure there were no others within hearing. This was his own office place opening on to salesroom in which gearmen and buyers came and went. “No, this is indeed a plague, even though it strikes only a few. So far those who shared quarters with the dead show no signs of it—though they are kept pent inside lest they spread the contagion.”

  “Still,” Kryn observed, “your guildmen who are reasonable and quick of wit suspect something more than a freak illness.” He was guessing but he believed he was right.

  Danus’s hands moved back and forth on the table. He had dropped his head so that the younger man could no longer meet his eyes. “Last night Popher, Master weaver, who before all the world was on good terms with all, had three bolts of thrice-threaded glass cloth taken, and his watchman was found dead. Yet he had paid creeper tax….”

  “Creeper tax?” Kryn was now lost.

  “Lord, it is true in every community there are those who have, sometimes, a great deal of goods, and those who do not. Among the have-nots there are bold and sometimes violent rascals who would prey upon the others. Seasons ago this was true in Kasgar until each of these houses of ours was manned by guards who cost small fortunes to feed, arm, and maintain. Many of the smaller merchants could not afford it and lived to see their livelihood vanish overnight.

  “There then appeared a man—as is often the case when there is a heavy problem to be solved. Some say he was not of Kasgar—yet he knew the city and its people as one knows the lines in one’s own palm. He somehow drew together those who would prey and formed them into a company not unlike our guilds. They even, I have heard tell, had their degrees of apprentice, journeymen, and masters….

  “And they were loyal to this leader—those who might have challenged him were apt to disappear. Having made sure of his backing, he dared to approach the Council itself, not openly, of course, to make a suggestion. That being that each merchant open to any raids pay a set fee to this underground guild and thereafter be free of any major loss….”

  “If you pay this—still you have guards…” Kryn pointed out.

  “True, but another problem arose,” Danus sighed. “It would seem that nothing can be simple in this life. It is also possible to hire creepers for private projects—even murder—for agreed-upon fees. If such a fee climbs beyond one’s rate of tax, one is open to plunder until one can make a new bargain. Thus, even though a merchant has no quarrel with the creepers, he strives to protect himself.”

  “Your Council has no city guards?” To Kryn this was a mystifying way of life.

  “They are for the protection of the people at large. Should a disturbance occur in a public place, the guard will move in at once. But each merchant’s own home and warehouse,”—Danus gave a glance around—“is private to him and his clan; none other can enter without permission.”

  It appeared to Kryn that there were many loopholes of trouble in this particular arrangement. However, it was of Kasgar and accepted there and he was not. It was none of his business.

  “Now,”—Danus had come back to his original offer— “I will give you and your men a short-term bond until you are able to decide what is best for Lord Jarth, since this weapons ban is on and is being strictly enforced. Anyone leaving Kasgar now can take only the protection he wears on his body and his usual arms.”

  Kryn shifted the bag from one hand to the other, frowning down at the pouch. He was sure that Danus had not stinted them but what it contained was of no service to him now. It might be prudent to do just what the merchant suggested, take temporary service here until he was very sure that he could not obtain what they really needed.

  Back at the guard quarters he called the two who had ridden with him into the room in the officer’s section where he had been housed and quickly outlined what Danus had told him.

  “This Barmrum who is five leader here,” one of them said, “he has been hintin’ of trouble. There’s a feelin’ goin’ ‘round that someone up on top is dreamin’ dark, as the sayin’ goes. They’ve gotten awful pryin’ at the gates.”

  “Lord Jarth… they need help,” the other broke in.

  Again Kryn weighed the purse. “Danus says we can take out provisions and clothing. He also talks about extra beasts. Suppose you and Ventro here,” he spoke now to the elder of the two, “take what they will allow us to pack. Full bellies and warm backs will help somewhat in the cold.”

  “And you, Hold Heir?”

  “Danus had some interesting things to say on another matter…” Quickly he outlined what the merchant had told him about the creepers and their organization. “These seem to be outside the Council law—in fact the Council pays tribute to them. Perhaps they can be dealt with as a law-abiding merchant cannot. It will be a matter of listening and seeking and it will take time. Also it may come to nothing, but on the chance that it will I shall stay.”

  “Sounds like what Lord Jarth would say,” commented Ventro. “Me an’ Hansel here can take
the trail. Too late in the season for raiders and if they give us travel-trained beasts, we can keep a good steady speed.”

  Danus appeared to heartily endorse that decision. He himself helped them bargain for beasts, well travel-broken, and now at graze in the outer fields. Owners were eager to get rid of extra mounts before they had to contribute other and expensive food for the animals.

  Some twenty days after they had entered Kasgar, Ventro and Hansel rode out, Kryn going with them as far as the main gate. He had entrusted Ventro, having him repeat it several times over, with a short report of what was happening here. At the last moment he wondered if he should add the fact of the amulet seller but decided that was nothing which would threaten the men at Dast whom he was trying to serve.

  He had made several visits to the marketplace and had seen the man with his small folding table. The array of dull red discs on that was limited and yet Kryn had never seen anyone actually buying one. Nor did that vender shout his wares and attempt to attract notice as the others around him. Kryn himself made sure with all the skill he could summon that he was not seen by the dealer, though he noted that the man’s eyes were constantly sweeping the crowd which passed, either because he sought some special person or else that he had some reason to fear—and somehow Kryn was sure it was the former.

  It was on his third trip market-side that he actually saw someone approach that table with its unattractive merchandise. The woman was well muffled in one of the huge enveloping cloaks which women of the upper class wore when abroad from their own homes, and she was followed by a half-grown lad with a house badge on his shoulder, plainly sent to carry any purchases. Kryn was too far away to mark the badge and he dared not approach. The dealer and the woman spoke together and then she moved on. Kryn had earlier counted the amulets remaining—ten of them—now there were nine but he had not seen her pick one up or the dealer hand it to her. On impulse he pushed past a very busy food stall and fell in behind her.

  His quarry did not make any more stops but threaded her way through traffic which at first was heavy and then thinned out as she approached a district of larger buildings, the tri-steeple of the major shrine looming above in plain sight. Kryn guessed that this section of Kasgar was that wherein the major clans of the guilds were settled. He saw guards, well equipped—with arms he envied—at the wall doors of several of the houses as if they awaited visitors.

  But the woman and her servant made a sudden turn into another way—one of those back streets such as that which Danus had used to bring in his wagons. And Kryn, lurking well behind lest he be noted on a street which was now nearly vacant, saw her enter through the small door in the large wagon one. There was a painted design above the arch of the closed wagon door and he made careful note of it, determined to find out who was master or mistress there….

  Though, he thought as he made his way back to the marketplace, what matter was it of his who bought an ominous amulet? The intrigues Danus had half hinted at meant nothing to an outsider who wanted nothing more than to fulfill the orders of his leader and return to his own country—though Dast was certainly not their native land.

  He had gotten no farther in his hopes of finding some line to those who might, for a sizable profit, provide what he needed, though he had listened closely to the talk of Danus’s guards, gone with them on off-duty hours to various taverns. Unfortunately the men he wanted might be rubbing shoulders with him in any crowd and he would never know it.

  But at least he was learning the city—the lower, meaner parts, for somehow he was sure that it was there he could find a clue to these all-powerful creepers. If they had been originally recruited from the criminals and poor, then this would have been, and probably still was, their native ground.

  Luckily a number of the guards he had seen, and many he had met, were not of Kasgar by birth but were outland mercenaries. Merchant stock did not produce on the whole natural fighting men—they needed to draw from the nomadic tribes, the mountaineers, and such, for those armsmen who would count in a fight.

  Danus had given him the shoulder patch which identified him as a member of the merchant’s establishment for the present, and with that displayed he could walk the streets without question even though his war gear was different from the norm. His ragtag clothing had been exchanged for garments from Danus’s stock. Only Bringhope might seem strange to the knowing eye in the street but Kryn was not to be separated from that blade. By day he wore it; by night he slept with it under his hand and he would until the day came when he could hang it again in honor in a free keephall.

  Now as he threaded the narrower side streets he did so with the same care as if scouting in the Heights, placing in memory each turn and twist, major landmarks. He discovered that his wilderness training held to the good here. Looking for a new landmark as he halted at the end of what was a very narrow alley, his attention was caught by what had been built directly across the end of that short and littered way. Plainly the building was abandoned, or if in use, only by the homeless. It was just one story high but the doorless opening into the interior showed a remnant of workmanship as if once there had been an attempt to enhance its importance.

  Over that doorway was set in the stone a grotesque head, neither beast nor human, but somehow combining both. Yet as queer as it was those features did not repel. Rather they intrigued, making Kryn want to see them better.

  He tramped down the alley and stood looking up at that strange and outré mask. It was then he was able to see something else, carved very deeply as if to withstand the passage of years, but placed unobtrusively below the mask as if that was meant to draw all attention from it.

  What was outlined there was a pair of hands and they were placed in the same position as he had seen Dreen use at meeting with Jarth—wrists tight together, palms and fingers curved outward facing each other. This must be of Lyr!

  He mounted the single step which formed a short platform on which the shrine was set and peered within the doorless aperture. The smells of a place long abandoned were plain. And it was so dusky he could not see even the walls of the windowless room beyond.

  A shrine to Lyr—he thought of Nosh. Did she know where this was? Might it be a thing to tell her? But it was clearly derelict and she would find no one of her kind or Dreen’s here.

  It was near the dinner hour as he made his way back to Danus’s establishment. Usually he went in by the rear door but today he found it easier to take a route through the shop. He had just stepped within when he was aware that he faced a fierce embroilment. Danus stood at the door of that inner room which Kryn knew was his treasure hold and well warded. His flushed face was so wrathful that Kryn was a little surprised. He had never seen the merchant in such a rage even when they had battled the raiders.

  He was facing that overbearing young lout who was his nephew, a surly fellow perhaps a couple of years to the better of Kryn but who paraded the airs of a Master merchant when Danus was not around.

  “A good bargain…” The lout’s voice was raised. “Lord Markus paid well for it. You listen to the mouthings of that slut and lose a sale… Evil in a stone! She is crossed in the head, or trying to work you to her own purpose.”

  “That stone was not for sale. You broke a house order! Get out of my sight, you dealer in trouble! If ill comes of this, you will take the full blame. I do not want to see your face again this day—lest I take measures to have it rearranged!”

  Danus actually showed a fist, although the lout was a little taller than he, and took a step forward, such purpose in his own face that Gunther turned and went, nearly slamming his shoulder against Kryn’s as he passed. His expression was black and hard.

  Danus retreated into his treasure room and the door of that snapped shut behind him. His curiosity fully aroused, Kryn looked to one of the gearwomen who served in the shop.

  “What has happened?”

  She looked disturbed. “Gunther sold a gem to Lord Markus—it was one that the Lady said was evil and carried evi
l with it. She found it among the stones Gunther bought while the master was gone. Now if evil does follow it, the guild Council will hold the master responsible… This has been a day of ills!” She threw up her hands in a small gesture as if to signify a rain of disasters.

  “What else?” Kryn asked though he was thinking mainly of the gem deal. If Nosh had pronounced the stone a source of evil—he remembered the one which had brought disaster on the refuge. What if the misuse of THIS one would bring the same fate to Kasgar? Did Danus even know of that earlier strike?

  “The zark,” the gearwoman was continuing. “They have been hunting it through the house since the tenth hour this morning. They say it can spit poison,” she shivered. “Lady Sofina has had most of the household turning out every room. It is not right to cage such creatures—they are a danger to all!”

  Zark? A zark was a rock lizard and he had never heard that they were any danger. Though there might be some variety of the creature which differed from those he knew. He could well believe that its escape was a matter of concern, for the things could move with dazzling speed and also hide in places considered too small to hold them. Danus was certainly not having a pleasant day and perhaps some of his anger was going to sift down and make the rest of the household restless and uneasy. Though that Gunther had been rousted was a satisfaction to anyone knowing that young boor.

  CHAPTER 17

  Though she had been to the market several times with Danus, checking on the wares others had to offer, Nosh had had no chance to go exploring in Kasgar on her own. Unfortunately, she discovered, local custom decreed that a young woman did not venture out on the streets unescorted. She chafed at this but, for the moment, wanted no trouble with the merchant.

  He had not introduced her to any of his fellow guild members, something which puzzled her. Perhaps he wished to keep her talent strictly for his own use until after the winter fair.