32 – Paid in Blood

“…Ward! Ward, come on, breathe!”

The words drifted down to Ward like he was swimming underwater and someone was shouting at him from the edge of the pool.

“…breathing, just…barely.”

“Ward!”

This time, his name was accompanied by jostling and a slap, and Ward’s consciousness surfaced, the black walls of the tunnel that had engulfed him slowly receding until he could discern a blurry face leaning over his. “Haley?” he grunted, only about fifty percent sure it was her.

“Thank the ancients!” She moved her hands to the sides of his face and tilted his head left and right. Her face was still blurry, so Ward wasn’t sure what she was doing, but he imagined she was examining him for damage. He still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. The last thing he remembered was looking at the hemograph and then—

“That sonofabitch!” Ward grunted in pain as he tried to sit, and Haley pushed against his chest.

“Hold still!” Another voice—Lisa’s—said, and Ward realized she was kneeling beside him with something metallic in her hand. He peered at it, trying to focus.

“What’s happening?”

“You’re in Lisa’s room, and she’s pulling the lead balls out of your wounds.”

Ward felt a sharp pain in his right side, and he tilted his head against Haley’s hands, looking downward to watch Lisa digging around in his bloody flesh with some long, metal tweezers. A low rumble startled him until he realized it was coming from his chest.

“Ward,” Lisa muttered, concentrating on what she was doing, “please don’t bite me.”

“I…” Ward cleared his throat and took a deep breath in through his nose. “I won’t. Where are the assholes who attacked me?”

Haley answered as Lisa continued to dig around in his flesh. “Two are dead, and one is gone. If we’re to believe the hotel staff who witnessed him fleeing through the lobby, he ran out and mounted a black horse, our safe, bound by a rope, slung over his back.”

“They fucking came in blasting! Did the hotel security just let them come up? They looked like goddamn bandits!”

“There was a distraction,” she replied. “A coach was set ablaze in the street, and when the doormen ran to help, the men slipped in. According to the cleaning staff on this floor, they didn’t make any other stops. We were their target.”

“Right—the safe.” Ward grunted and pushed himself up on his elbows, causing Lisa to pull back and hiss.

“Ward! There are still bullets in you!” As she scolded him, Ward held up his right arm, examining the wounds. There were three on his forearm and one on his biceps—all were nearly closed up and scabbed over. “I started with your arm, and as soon as the lead came out, you started healing. Same with the one that was embedded in your ribs. Just let me dig these out of your stomach! I think your muscles stopped them.”

Ward grunted again and fell back, resting his head on Haley’s lap. “How long was I out?”

“Twenty minutes?” Haley sounded like she was guessing. “We found a shattered alchemical device in the arms of the robber you fell atop. Lisa was sure it released a gas that knocked you out.”

Lisa nodded, grimacing as she pulled out a bloody ball of lead. “That’s the only reason I wasn’t worried when I felt how slow your heart was beating. The hotel manager insisted on sending for a surgeon. You’ll be fine by the time he arrives, I’m sure.”

“The hotel manager,” Ward growled, “knew we had valuables in our safe.” Ward looked at Haley and saw the blood smeared on her chin—was it his blood? “Did they get your money?”

“No. Thank the ancients, I still had our tickets and my coin purse on me.”

“Yes,” Lisa added, “things could have been worse.” She looked up from her work to lock her eyes with Ward’s. “You could be dead.”

“I don’t even want that damn artifact,” Ward grumbled, “but I’m not going to let someone steal it. You said so, yourself—it’s evil. We have to get it back.”

“Ward, these men knew what they were doing. They must have connections going back to Port Granite. They must have been watching you!” As she spoke, Lisa dug around in another of his wounds, and the only thing he could think, as the long tong-like tweezers spread the wound wide, was that it ought to hurt more than it did. It was uncomfortable and definitely hurt, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t grimace through.

He looked back at Lisa’s face, watching it for a reaction as he said, “That’s one possibility.”

Haley looked down at him, smoothing his hair away from his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Lisa hadn’t faltered in her concentration, focusing entirely on the task of pulling lead out of Ward’s flesh. He tried pushing it a little more, “Well, Lisa knew about it. Did you make a report to your group? To your tutor—what was his name? Teal?”

“Doctor Thiel, and yes! I reported about my trip and about you. I did so to ensure the Oathbound knew you weren’t affiliated with the Circle! Thiel—he wouldn’t do this, Ward. I can’t imagine it. He wouldn’t send violent men to rob you, especially if he knew I was working with you!”

Ward didn’t respond immediately. He watched her face as she continued to dig, finally making a satisfied sound as her probing tweezers clicked against the last bullet. As she dug it out, Ward said, “I know you want to believe that, Lisa, but people will surprise you. I want to meet your mentor, and I want to see the bodies of the men I killed.” He watched the puckered, bloody wounds on his abdomen, amazed at how they hardly bled and seemed to be getting smaller before his eyes. “Holy shit,” he muttered.

Lisa nodded, staring at his stomach as well. “I told you. I’ve never seen anyone heal so quickly. It must be the bloodline.” She reached up to wipe sweat from her brow, leaving a smear of Ward’s blood in its place. “I can arrange a meeting with my mentor, of course. As for the bodies—the constabulary may already be here. They’ll likely try to take them.”

Ward surged up into a sitting position, startling both women. “They goddamn better not!” He scanned Lisa’s room, noting it was a good deal larger than the one he and Haley had been sharing. He spied his bloody shirt and jacket piled near the door, and after clambering to his feet, he stumbled toward them. “I need to inspect those bodies.” He whirled on Haley as he stuffed his arms into his shirt. “What about our stuff? Our room’s a goddamn mess.”

“Our packs are here!” Haley pointed toward the round table and chairs near the window, and Ward saw his gear piled in one of them, including Haley’s father’s sword; she’d reclaimed it from the robber’s corpse.

“Good.” As he began buttoning his shirt, he looked back at the women, saw their glowering expressions, and added, “Thank you.” He stooped to pick up his coat. “How’d you get here so fast? I thought you’d left to eat dinner.”

Haley took Lisa’s elbow, helped her to her feet, and then nodded to the bathroom. “Go ahead and clean up, Lisa. We’ll go deal with the bodies and whatnot.” She turned to Ward. “We decided to eat in the hotel’s dining room. We heard the fight. You weren’t exactly quiet about your reaction to being shot.”

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Ward nodded. He could imagine. Had he roared or yelled? He didn’t remember. He knew he’d pounded the first robber against the wall until the plaster caved in. He pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway. Lisa’s room was on the same floor as his and Haley’s, and, looking to his right, he saw a crowd of people not far away, all standing around something—likely the man he’d chased down. As he strode toward the crowd—several of whom he realized wore the long, gray coats of the city watch—he saw the hotel manager catch sight of him and stumble back, veritably hiding behind one of the large, mustachioed men in the gray coats.

Ward’s boots thumped on the wooden floors, and when one of the city watchmen, a fellow with two red stripes on his sleeves, turned to regard him, his eyes flew wide. Ward had no idea what he looked like, but he could imagine. His light gray shirt was soaked with blood, his face and neck were likely smeared with the stuff, and his big hands were also covered with it—probably not his own. Aside from all the blood, Ward’s beard and hair were wild and disheveled. His eyes were probably glowing, and he was glowering with murderous thoughts running through his mind.

Without preamble, he growled, “I need a good long look at the men who tried to kill me. Did you take anything off the bodies?”

“Now ‘old on a minute there, Big Jack,” the man with the stripes on his sleeves said, “I’m Watch Sergeant Hemmit, and I’ll be investigating this situation. You’re the one who did this?” He stepped to the side and gestured to the white-faced, wide-eyed corpse on the ground, a great pool of blood coagulating around his head where it was clear something had slashed his jugular.

“I chased him down after his partner shot me, but I don’t think I killed him. He had some kind of device—I think it exploded.” Ward pushed his way past a pair of hotel cleaners and one of the town watchmen—a woman, actually—and leaned forward, looking more closely at the corpse.

“I thought you were dead, sir,” the manager said, peering around the side of one of the burlier men. “Your lady companions took you off, but I didn’t think you were breathing!”

“Well, I’m not dead.” Ward nodded to the body, then looked up to the watch sergeant. “Did you take anything off him?”

“We just got here.” He held up a piece of green glass. “We were getting to the bottom of this device—an alchemical mixture and, yes, it seems to have exploded in the fool’s hands.” He nodded, and Ward followed his gaze to see the dead man was, indeed, bereft of fingers on his right hand. The sergeant looked at the manager and narrowed his eyes, quickly turning back to Ward. “Hold on a minute. You’re the guy that got shot?”

“That’s right.” Ward pulled the dead guy’s vest open, looking for a pouch or inner pocket.

The sergeant reached down, grasped his shoulder, and said, “Hold on there, Big Jack, we’ve got a process.”

Ward stood and glared down at him. “My name’s Ward and I have a process too. I’ll be investigating the robbery these men carried out, and I recommend you stay out of my way.”

Ward hadn’t noticed her, but Haley had joined him in the hallway, and she spoke up, “Sergeant, Ward’s a deputy marshal and a sorcerer. It’d be best if you let him handle this his way.”

“I saw how you handled things in your room, Big Ja—” Ward leaned closer to him and scowled, and the sergeant cleared his throat and took a step back. “Ward, was it?”

“Right.”

“Well, Ward, you made a huge mess in your room. I don’t need you going around the city doing stuff like…that.” He pointed at the door to Ward’s room, hanging crookedly on its hinges.

“I’m going to find what was taken from me. If you want to be helpful, start with that manager hiding behind your officers. He knew I had valuables in the safe, and I think the timing of this robbery is certainly suspicious.”

“Now, hold on just a minute, Mr. Dyer,” the hotel manager sputtered, “I won’t have you tarnishing my reputation or that of this fine establishment. There was a fire right outside the hotel! My doormen—”

“It’s awfully strange that this happened in the early evening,” the sergeant interrupted, turning to regard the small man in his burgundy suit. “Where were the hotel security personnel? How did three men bully their way into a room, rip out the safe, and make an escape without being caught?” He nodded toward the corpse. “Well, they would have if not for Ward here.” He looked at Ward, slowly narrowing one eye. “You sure you’re all right? Mr. Robin,” he nodded at the hotel manager, “said you got shot and were unconscious.”

“I’m fine. Can I check this asshole’s pockets or not? I need to search the other guy, too.”

“You can watch me while I check ‘em.” Ward nodded and stood, taking a single step away from the body. The sergeant glared around the hallway and then looked at two of his men. “Foz and Trudge, you two go and watch the door. Keep track of any guests coming and going, and let me know if anything strikes you as funny.”

“Funny, sir?”

“Out of place, you overstuffed tit! Now get moving.” He turned to the third member of the watch, the woman. “Roda, go and interview the front desk clerk and the two men who were supposed to be watching the door. I want to know everything about the supposed fire that took them away from their posts.”

“Sir!” She snapped a sharp salute and then turned and strode purposefully after the two men.

“She’s the best of the bunch,” Sergeant Hemmit sighed, shaking his head. “I’m saddled with incompetent buffoons.” He glared at the hotel manager and the two cleaning personnel. “Give us some room. I’ll be down to interview you in a few minutes, Mr. Robin.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Mr. Robin hurried past Ward, his back to the wall as he kept Ward in his view the entire time. As his two cleaning staff hurried away, the manager paused and asked, “Will you be checking out then, Mr. Dyer?”

“What? No, goddamn it! I’m busy enough with this investigation. Do you think I want to go find another hotel?”

“You ought to give us a better room!” Haley added.

“I—” The little man, his beard and mustache waxed, his suit neat and wrinkle-free, took a moment to compose himself, straightening the lapels of his coat, then nodded serenely. “You’re quite right, Miss. Of course, I should have thought of it myself. I’ll have housekeeping prepare one of our suites upstairs.”

Ward stared at the man’s face, trying to gauge his gut feeling about him. He didn’t think the manager had what it would take to hire thugs like the ones who’d barged into his room. No, he was still going with his earlier theory—Lisa’s people didn’t exactly trust her, and they’d made a move on the artifact without her knowing. He didn’t want to think Lisa had something to do with the attack, and he didn’t feel like he was sticking his head in the sand. It didn’t feel right. She wouldn’t have moved to the inn and wouldn’t have helped them win the auction if she didn’t truly intend to team up with them. She wouldn’t have been involved in this robbery. He was sure of it.

“Well, Ward? Shall we?” Ward realized he’d spaced out, and the manager had left. The sergeant squatted beside the corpse and began to rifle through his pockets. As he found objects, he set them on the dead man’s chest—a small leather pouch that clinked like glories, a folding pocket knife, a surprisingly clean handkerchief, and a brass tin filled with long, moist tobacco leaves.

“Count the glories,” Ward suggested. Hemmit nodded and opened the pouch, emptying it into his palm. Ward noticed something right away. “A bunch of copper, five-glory silvers, and two nice, shiny, golden, one-hundred-glory coins. Those beauties seem a little out of place, don’t they?”

“Aye,” Hemmit nodded, sinking his teeth into one of the golden coins. “You think he took this from your room?”

Ward shook his head. “Nah, Sergeant. He was paid with those golden coins to do this robbery. I’d bet my badge on it.”

The sergeant looked up at Ward and nodded. “Makes sense. He ain’t dressed like a guy who walks around with a couple hundred glories on ‘im.”

“Here,” Ward fished out his pouch. “Let me buy those two golden coins, will you?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll give you two in exchange.”

“But why?”

“I’m a sorcerer, Sergeant. The fool who paid this man to rob and kill me is going to regret it.”

“Ah!” Hemmit’s eyes went wide as understanding washed over him. “You’re going to ensorcell these coins?”

“Something like that.” Ward exchanged two golden coins of his own for the ones Hemmit held, and then he carefully tucked them into his pants pocket. “Let’s see if the other guy has a couple of gold coins.”

A few minutes later, they—at least partially—confirmed Ward’s theory; the man he’d nearly split in half also had two golden coins in his pouch alongside almost a hundred glories in silver. He also carried a lot more in his leather duster—knives, a bag of powder that made the sergeant’s eyes water when he sniffed it, a pocket watch, a brace of darts, and extra ammunition and powder for his blunderbuss.

Looking at all the stuff, including the coins, Haley frowned, folding her arms. “By rights, Ward should be allowed to take what he wants. These men forfeited their belongings when they tried to kill him!”

“You’re quite right, Miss.” Sergeant Hemmit nodded. “I’ll have to take all this down the station to catalog it with my report, but I’m sure the captain will release any belongings he doesn’t deem illicit in a week or so.”

Ward snorted. “In other words, he’s going to decide these coins and weapons were all used for crime and add them to the city watch budget.”

Hemmit chuckled, reached into the big guy’s money pouch, and slipped out one of the golden coins, flicking it to Ward. “I won’t say anything if you won’t.” He flicked the second one to Haley. “Not surprising a couple of criminal, low-born scum would rob a hotel without a penny to their names, is it?”

Ward frowned, a part of him recoiling at the casual corruption, but he shrugged and slipped the golden coin into the same pocket as the other two. He’d cast Reveal Secrets on them later. The corruption wasn’t his, after all. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. Haley was right; everything these two men carried should be his to claim. Speaking more to himself than Haley or Hemmit, Ward growled, “I paid in blood.”