City of Dragons (Rain Wild Chronicles #3)

City of Dragons (Rain Wild Chronicles #3) Page 44

“This is what I do know,” he said carefully. He lifted his bandaged hand to dab at the blood at the end of his nose. A mistake. The clot came away on the napkin and it began to drip blood again. Firmly he set his hands on the desktop and tried to ignore it. “Sedric went to the Rain Wilds. He took with him a woman with great knowledge of dragons. I suspect he hopes to use her knowledge to win him close contact with the dragons. I had to leave on my own trading journey. When I returned, I found no messages from him. The news from the Rain Wilds is that he was part of a party that accompanied the dragons on an expedition up the Rain Wild River. No word has been received from the expedition. They and the dragons may have perished.”

“Pah! Old news is what you offer. When Begasti Cored sent him on his way, your Sedric was not our only emissary for this task. Our other spies have been more prompt in their reporting. We have bent ourselves to this task with every resource at our disposal. Your Sedric was but one of many possible connections we cultivated. So put aside your lies. We already know many things. Do you think you can tell me old news and I will be content with it? Do you think to distract me from my task? Do you think that I do not have concerns of my own bound up with this undertaking? You are a fool, then. And you will find there is a high cost for thinking us fools as well.”

“Truly, I know no more than what I have told you!” Desperation broke through in his voice. To so betray himself ran counter to every rule of wise bargaining, to all he had ever been taught about dealing with Chalcedeans. Show no fear, no doubt, and no weakness. But the burning pain from his hand, the smell of his own dripping blood, and the complete foreignness of the experience had him literally trembling.

“I believe you,” the Chalcedean said suddenly. He hopped off the corner of the desk and sauntered back to the window. He tested his blade on the drapery, shredding them in the process. He was staring out the window as he spoke. “I believe you because we have a similar problem. We are not certain where Begasti Cored is; we believe that he, too, has gone to the Rain Wilds. Perhaps that means he is close to obtaining the required merchandise.”

Hest eased himself silently out of the chair. The door was not so far away. The rugs were thick. Could he move slowly and quietly toward the door, unlatch it, and flee to safety before the man was aware he was escaping? He suspected that if he failed to get through the door, he might pay with his life. And if he got through the door, where would he flee? The Chalcedean would give chase, he was sure. His terror sickened him, dizzied him with weakness.

“You know, of course, how difficult it is for a Chalcedean to obtain passage up the Rain Wild River. That Begasti managed such a feat speaks well of his resourcefulness. We suspect that he was aided by Sinad Arich. Perhaps they are both working toward fulfilling their tasks. But it does put them out of our reach. And that will not do. It will not do at all.”

Hest made one step toward the door. The man had his back to him. Another step. The Chalcedean drew the blade up and down the expensive draperies, almost as if he were whetting it on the fine fabric. Hest didn’t care. Whatever kept him busy was fine. He slid another step closer to the door. One more silent step and then he would spring for it, fling the latch back, open the door, and run like a scalded cat.

“So we do what we must. We bring our messages to the one we can reach. And he, in turn, relays the message where we cannot go ourselves. Very swiftly he does this.”

The man turned. There was a sudden thud, as if someone had knocked once, heavily, upon the door. Hest turned, hoping Ched had come back. Instead, a short knife with a very gaudy handle quivered stiffly in the hard wood. For a moment, he made no sense of what he saw. The Chalcedean cleared his throat and Hest looked at him. Another little knife, its hilt a gay pattern of red and blue and green, sat balanced in the man’s hand.

“Can you run as fast as a knife can fly? Shall we find out?”

“No. Please, no. What do you want of me? Say it clearly and if I can give it to you, I will. Do you want money? Do you want—?”

“Hush.” A gentle word spoken harshly. Hest fell silent.

“It is so simple. We want the merchandise that was promised. Dragon parts. Scales. Blood. Teeth. Liver. We do not care now who delivers it, as long as it arrives swiftly. When it does, you will see what a generous man the Duke of Chalced is. He who brings what is required will be richly rewarded with honors as well as coin! For generations, your house will be praised and respected by all who serve his lordship.

“So. You will begin by finding Sinad Arich and Begasti Cored. There is a small box for each of them, there beside your fine desk. Each contains a gift that they will value above their lives from the Duke. Don’t lose either of them. They are irreplaceable. If they are lost, you will pay for them with your life. When you deliver them, you should remind each of them that their eldest son sends greetings to them and assure them that their heir-sons are prospering in the Duke’s care. This is not something that every member of their families can say, but for their eldest sons, it is still true. For it to remain true, all they must do is complete their missions. Suitably motivated, we are certain that these two will be eager to help you locate your runaway slave. And the merchandise that we have been promised.”