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Chapter 10
“Hold on, hold on, hold on I appreciate your help down there. I’m Aesthus of Hemlin, of the Line of Tollos. Thank you.” One of the cousins held his hands up, palm out.
He caught me by surprise. And after a moment, I replied, “You’re welcome. Thank you.”
The others looked like they didn’t know what to say, so they said nothing. I couldn’t fault them, but that left all the talking to Aesthus.
He continued. “You said you’re here to acquire the saber?”
I nodded.
“We can–” He paused. “—talk about that.” He paused again to make up his mind over something. “As I said, I’m Aesthus. These are my cousins, Zenjin, Osret, Apseto, and Nurim.”
The cousins looked varyingly wary, curious, or distrustful.
“Let’s temper blades,” said Aesthus. He glanced around.
The cousins had just not-fought each other, so they showed varying levels of willingness to not-fight me. Most looked guarded but listening.
“You too,” Aesthus told me. “You saved me, and I appreciate it. Let’s not waste your effort.”
I felt like arguing, but Aesthus was leaving everyone a way out. Besides, I’d saved their lives, and I’d be throwing that away if I fought them, something that moments ago, I’d been trying to figure out how not to do. This whole situation was making me short tempered.
But now that I was aware of it, I could fix it.
“Thank you. I’m pleased to meet you,” I said and waved specifically to Osret. He didn’t reply with much grace, but he nodded back. “I’m pleased to meet you all.”
“Come,” said Aesthus. “We live nearby. We’d be honored if you joined us.”
And again, I let myself agree.
We left the beach, avoiding the water if we could. In some stretches, there was no alternative, but the nereids did not pursue us while we looked for them.
#
The cousins Hemlin had a small palace that was basically a wide townhouse. Five stories tall with a courtyard out back, its second story overhung a tunnel through the first floor. The tunnel opened into the courtyard where a circle of smaller cobble stones between large slabs of sandstone formed the center of the back yard. Behind rose a small garden that seemed mostly full of strange rocks and small huts. The cousins lead me through an elegant glass door to a tiny foyer, a wide staircase, and on the second floor a large receiving room. They lit a fire from an ember dish, and offered me a stiff drink or a warm towel.
I took both, but the towel first.
Zenjim put the blade on the main table and patted it dry. I sat where I could see it.
“You said you’re prepared to pay for it?” asked Aesthus.
I considered before nodding.
“This is the only one left. It’s rare now, perhaps rarer. That’s got to be worth something.”
Maybe, I thought. There had been two assassin’s parties.
“How do you know?” I said, equally cautiously.
“Mallens didn’t just break the seashore. He broke the earth. There’s a power in him, an energy. When he strikes something, it comes apart, and not merely in breaking. The stuff of it disintegrates. I think he did not truly stamp this sword. Perhaps it was close to his foot but not hit. Maybe it had already been dropped and fell into the pit. But we found nothing else of its like, and we are from the high mountains. Apseto is particularly clever with finding things in stone, even stone under water.”
Apseto didn’t look cocky, but he did look confident.
“What if it’s in sand?” I asked.
“Sand is just a lot of very small stones,” said Apesto.
If that was how it worked for him, so be it.
“I’ll show a few cups,” I said and pointed at the copied sword. “I’m here to get that, and I’m willing to pay for it. My customer is willing to pay in cash, so there is no reason to be concerned about favors or credit. I was at the beach looking for the sword when we met and saved your lived. You owe me. Business is business, but enjoy all that breathing you’re doing. Drowning is a hard way to go.”
“Who’s your customer?” asked Zenjin.
“No,” I said. “That doesn’t need to be discussed.”
The group of them glanced at each other, and a silent conversation of shrugs and facial expressions told me they didn’t feel like arguing the point.
“I’m going to go change my clothes,” said Aesthus. He was dripping. We all were. “I don’t think we have anything that will fit you, but can I lend you some sweats?”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
Again Aesthus deflated the tension, but his idea was a good one. I didn’t want to let the saber out of my sight. They wouldn’t leave me alone with it. With some towels and a little consideration, everyone changed and met back up in their living room, arrayed on couches around the chair.
Aesthus wasn’t quite as big as the others and had a slightly softer look. He’d changed into khaki pants and a fitted sweater, leather shoes, and leather belt. My stubble was longer than the hair on his head.
Osret wasn’t quite as tall but wider built, and he wore tight clothing to show off his muscles. None of his shirts had sleeves.
Zenjin was a bigger guy but didn’t have the gym build of Osret. He had a huge back, shoulders, and gut. He wore designer t-shirts and jeans, the sort of sports shoes that get dropped in limited quantities. A silver-handled Puritan nestled under his left arm, set for a cross-body draw. No one else seemed to be carrying a gun, so it certainly was a statement, but fashion or security?
Puritans, from the 22nd Testament of Thorophus the Weapon Maker, were good guns. They were such good guns people collected them, which made them rare, then valuable, and now they were fashion statements themselves. Still, they shot straight and rarely jammed.
Apseto showed up in a suit, and I don’t know a whole lot about suits. His seemed to fit well. He had thunderbolts on his tie pin, thunderbolt cufflinks, and a brown shirt with a white tie that drew attention to his face. They said he could find things in stone, even stone under water. That could be a valuable skill, depending on how good he was, and he wore the suit comfortably. He didn’t pick at it.
Nurim sized up the bunch of us and started making something in the kitchen. He threw chips in a bowl, got everyone a glass of water or beer, and brought out some bread and a few spreads. He was always moving, cleaning plates or putting glasses on coasters. He and Aesthus were slim compared to the others, but they were still big guys. He wore jeans of some unremarkable make, a hooded sweater, a watch he kept checking, and slip-on shoes. He changed the latter twice during our meeting.
I started. “Let’s talk peacefully. I’m not looking for a fight.”
“I don’t see why that’s relevant,” said Zenjin. “You’re mortal. There are five of us. A fight won’t go well for you.”
“He’s hiding his power,” said Aesthus. He looked at me. “I don’t think the fight will go the way you think it will, but since you attacked nereids in water, you’ve got something in reserve. But let’s put that aside. Temper blades. You’re not looking for a fight, we’re not looking for a fight. How much?”
“And when and where and all that,” said Nurim, coming in with snacks. “You’re not carrying any suitcases full of cash.”
“Yeah, also we’re not letting the sword out of our sight,” said Zenjin.
“The hand-over can be arranged.” I tried to wave pleasantly. “One or all of you can follow me to where I have the money.”
“Let’s talk about that,” said Apseto. “How much?”
The sidebars stopped. Nurim in the kitchen stopped puttering. Zenjin leaned forward, elbows on knees. All eyes watched me.
I’d made two payment drops for each of the two groups. The killers had been paid half up front and half for after the job was done.
I’d never known exactly how Koru made his riches. Earlier, I hadn’t cared. Now I cared, but I didn’t know. He had money. Bills, bribes, and charitable donations had all been paid, and I’d paid most of them. I had also hidden small packages of silver coins and ambrosia for the successful assassins.
I’d been such an honest fool. I hadn’t taken a coin or a bite. The money waited for me now.
I said, “Forty two thousand.”
That was a bad lowball. Forty two thousand sesteres was new horse money, maybe even nice new horse, but not a race winner nor a good sire. It would make a downpayment on a home. Someone like me could live easily on forty two thousand a year and scrimp it out three years. All four drops combined had about five hundred thousand.
“That seems a little light,” said Aesthus.
“It’s a magnficient blade,” I said. “It’s also stolen. It was used in the commission of a crime, and people will come looking. Problems will come. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. And the saber will disappear and you can say, with utmost honesty, you have no idea where it is.”
“We know your name,” said Osret. He stuck his chin out at me.
I had to bite back a quick remark. Osret was hot-tempered to begin with. I had things too say but for once, didn’t say them.
“You are correct,” I agreed neutrally. “You know my name, Remus.”
Apseto sighed. He and Osret sat on a couch together, and Apseto leaned over and whispered something to the other.
Osret kept a stoneface for several seconds. “Of course. You are Remus, and when someone comes looking for the saber, I will tell them Remus has it.”
“Please do,” I said.
Mental clockwork shifted everyone else in the room. Nurim glanced at Aesthus, and if I had to guess, I’d say Nurim was recalling Aesthus saying I was hiding my power.
“Ten million,” said Zenjin.
“Nope.” I shook my head and ignored him.
“It’s a rare and stolen sword. The rest are destroyed. Ten million,” he insisted.
“That’s not an offer.”
“I said ten million, and we’ve got it right now.” Zenjin moved forward a little on his chair.
I reached out, took a slice of bread, and examined the sauces. Nurim had laid out butter, olive oil, and something yellow and ganular. I don’t think it was hummus, but I bet it was close enough to rhyme. I scraped invisible butter on the bread and layered over top with the hummus stuff.
I took a bite. My mistake: it was hummus, but they’d mixed ambrosia in here.
Wow.
I wasn’t faking. It tasted like euphoria. My wounds began to close. My scrapes healed. My aching muscles felt salved. Those little wrinkles of tension around my eyes relaxed, and I suddenly noticed a coldness in my side by the way it faded.
I had really lowballed them with that offer.
“This is really good.” I held it up to Nurim. “Sourdough?”
He nodded. “We get it from the artsy place down the street. Girls like it.”
Zenjin said, “What about the–”
And Aesthus interrupted him, “Do you mind if we take a moment?” he asked me.
I waved the bread. “Please do. I’ll be here.”
They looked at me, the saber, and gears clicked behind every pair of eyes. I waited.
The cousins got up and moved into the kitchen, forming a small huddle between the stove and an island of counter.
I tried to look relaxed and dangerous. I tried to look thoughtful. I thought, but I was thinking about ambrosia in hummus.
We had tried to kill the Lord of Creation for a million sesteres. One thousand miles, a ton, two weeks pay for a legion. We’d tried to kill the King of the Gods for a million sesteres. And these fools who had the saber had enough money to put ambrosia in the hummus!
Their house was worth more than a million.
I was in the wrong line of work.
A volcano went off between my ears. I heard nothing but eruptions and thunder. I thought of stale wayhouse sandwiches and of not being able to afford stale wayhouse sandwiches so I stayed hungry until I made it home. I thought of sleeping hungry so I could eat manna in the morning.
They’d laid out a whole spread of artsy bread with ambrosia in the hummus.
These guys could get blisters. I wasn’t going to stop for appearances. I ate all their hummus.
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