Abuud: the One-Eyed God (5 page)

"I am afraid that will not be possible," frowned the mercenary. "Our orders are very specific. You are allowed in, and one other person, but your guards will remain outside. Your protection while you are on the estate will be handled by my men."

"Preposterous!" shouted Duke Everich. "I would no more trust your men than the street urchins down at the docks. The Targa Army protects me."

"The Grakus Mercenary Company has never lost a client," retorted the mercenary. "I doubt the Targa Army can say the same. Regardless of your desires, Duke Everich, I have stated the requirements for you to proceed past this gate. The decision to enter is your own."

"I represent the government of Targa," declared Duke Everich. "No estate can refuse me entry. The army will guard me while I speak with your master. Do you really expect to protect this estate from the army?"

"I do," stated the mercenary as he signaled his men. "We take our contracts very seriously. Our orders are to admit you and one other if you desire to enter. Any deviation from that will result in a battle."

Duke Everich's mouth hung open as he watched the mercenaries raise their bows towards the column of soldiers. He fumed inwardly at the thought of this estate owner thinking he was above the law, but it also went a step towards verifying his identity. If the owner was the man that Duke Everich thought he was, then this attitude of being above governments was a characteristic that had been attributed to him.

"Duke Jiardin will accompany me," conceded Duke Everich as he indicated to the army to wait outside for him. "Open the gates."

The mercenary nodded to his men and the gates swung open. The carriage rode along the well-maintained drive to the front door of the mansion. Duke Everich saw even more mercenaries and shook his head as one of them opened the carriage door. Another mercenary held the door to the mansion open, and yet another guided them to the sitting room. Duke Everich and Duke Jiardin entered the bare sitting room and halted. Duke Everich looked around the sitting room. The room was devoid of furnishings except for two old chairs. While two guards were stationed in the sparse room, there was no sign of the estate owner.

"If you will have a seat," directed their escort as he pointed to the two old chairs, "the Master will be with you soon."

Duke Everich turned to snarl at the mercenary, but the door to the room closed before he could turn around. He shook his head as he marched over and sat in one of the chairs. Duke Jiardin sat in the other chair and fidgeted, trying to get comfortable. Within moments the lights flickered to life beyond the silkscreen, and the visitors watched as the shadowy figure seated himself.

"Greetings Duke Everich," intoned the voice. "Welcome to my home, Duke Jiardin."

"Well you obviously know who we are," scowled Duke Everich. "Perhaps you could introduce yourself now. I am not used to meeting with people who hide their faces from me."

"And I am not used to being bothered by meeting with politicians," retorted the voice. "I thought perhaps that saving your life might be worth something to you. If it is not, then our business is concluded and you may leave."

Duke Everich started to rise angrily when Duke Jiardin touched his arm and motioned towards the guards. Duke Everich turned to see the guards ready to charge across the floor and slowly sat back down. He did not care for the feeling of being a captive in his own city.

"Let me set the record straight," the voice said softly. "I am not a patriot of your city. I do not care much for politics, or politicians, or your Contest of Power. I have information that is valuable to you. Are you interested in purchasing it?"

"What do you want for the information, and how do I know it is of value?" questioned Duke Everich.

"My information is always of value," chuckled the voice. "What I want for the information is a favor from the future King of Targa. The nature of the favor will be determined at some future time."

"An open-ended favor?" queried Duke Jiardin. "That is an outrageous price. I would advise against this bargain. No information could be worth such a price."

"Is not the life of the future King worth a favor from the future King?" retorted the voice.

"Let me guess," quipped Duke Everich, "you will try to claim a seat on the Council for your information?"

"Hardly," laughed the voice. "While a Council seat might be a valuable commodity to trade with, I personally would not accept a seat if you gave it to me for free. I have already stated that I do not care for games of politics. I am not a Contest of Power player. Nor do I ever wish to be. My request for a favor is vague because I can think of nothing right now that you could give me of value. Perhaps in the future you will have something that I desire. Perhaps not, in which case the information will end up being free. The choice is yours in any event."

"I cannot offer something so valuable without some idea of what the value of the information is," declared Duke Everich. "I also do not like dealing with someone who remains hidden from me. What is it you fear by disclosing yourself?"

"My fears are not of your concern," the voice shot back. "I prefer to remain anonymous, and I have the facility to do so. That will not change during the course of our discussion. As to the information, there will be an assassination tonight. A member of your Council will die, and the assassin has you as his next target. Is that information valuable to you?"

Duke Jiardin gasped, but Duke Everich merely nodded.

"Do you know which Council member?" questioned Duke Everich.

"I know the time, location, and the victim's name," assured the voice.

"Impressive," frowned Duke Everich. "You are new to the city, and you possess information so sensitive that people's lives depend upon it. I am curious how you managed to procure such information."

"Information is my business," sighed the voice. "But of course you already know that, Duke Everich. I know that you have had the Palace staff track down the transactions that I used to buy this estate. There is little that goes on in this city that I do not know about. While you are right about me being new to Tagaret, you surely know my reputation from prior years. You are probably aware that I have agents in every major city in the world. You also know that I do not interfere with the politics of my clients. I sell and trade information like any other commodity. What you do with the information is your concern."

"So it is true then," mused Duke Everich. "I heard that you had died many years ago."

"Quite true," laughed the voice. "I have died many times. When it is convenient, I will die again."

"I must admit that I am still skeptical," declared Duke Everich. "If you are who I think you are, then I will have no hesitation with your bargain. To be allied with you could only help my cause. You could be anyone though hiding behind that screen. Do you have any proof of who you are?"

"Who I am is not important to this deal," insisted the voice. "The information speaks for itself. Why do you keep pressing this issue?"

"Quite frankly," responded Duke Everich, "you could stage the assassination to secure the favor you ask for. The loss of your assassin would be small in return for the favor you request. Yet I know that Stafa Rakech is so wealthy that he would not stoop to such a forgery. You were reported to have died in Sordoa nearly twenty years ago and have not been heard of since. Offer me some proof of your identity."

There was a long silence in the room and finally the voice laughed heartily. "You are a clever man," stated the voice. "I was not just in Sordoa, I owned Sordoa. The Royal Palace was mortgaged to me. The Crown Jewels were in my position for collateral. You want proof of my identity? Fine. I will supply your proof, but you are warned not to reveal my secret."

The turbaned shadow rose and walked away from the silkscreen. He returned within moments and sat back down. Duke Everich heard a noise within the wall and suddenly a drawer popped open in the wall. The Head of the Council looked in the drawer and lifted a broach out of it. He examined the broach and noted the official seal of Sordoa on it. There was no doubt in the Duke's mind that he was looking at a piece of jewelry from the Royal Palace of Sordoa. He nodded and placed the broach back into the drawer and pushed the drawer closed.

"You have a deal, Stafa Rakech," agreed Duke Everich.

"Please do not use my name," responded the voice. "Even my servants are unaware of my identity."

"I am sorry," the Duke replied honestly. "Who is being assassinated and when?"

"Duke D'Ales will be assassinated this night," informed the voice. "It will occur shortly after the last light in the mansion is extinguished."

"While you may be right," interjected Duke Jiardin, "what Duke Everich said before may still be true. How do we know that you are not staging this for the promised favor?"

"You are so skeptical, Duke Jiardin," chuckled the voice. "The assassin's name is Herzel and his employer is Duke Engar. If you wish to purchase the names of witnesses that can attest to the comings and goings at the Engar estate, I can make those available for an additional fee. What are you willing to pay, Duke Jiardin?"

"I never did trust Duke Engar," scowled Duke Everich when Duke Jiardin did not answer. "It looks like there will be a vacancy on the Council even after we save Duke D'Ales."

"Is Duke D'Ales an ally of yours?" questioned the voice. "That thought had not occurred to me. I thought the value to you was in the fact that your name was next on the assassin's list."

"Actually, no," responded Duke Everich. "D'Ales rarely sees things my way."

"Then perhaps there might be two vacancies on the Council," proposed the voice.

"Indeed," Duke Everich smiled grimly. "I do like the way you think. I can have the estate surrounded and capture anyone leaving. By that time the deed will be done."

"Gentlemen," said the voice as he rose, "I do hope you will excuse me. I do have other pressing business to take care of. I hope the information that you purchased proves valuable to you. Perhaps we can do more business in the future."

Duke Everich and Duke Jiardin rose silently and a servant led the way back to the carriage. Everich issued orders to the soldiers that had waited for him and then ordered the driver to return to his own estate. Duke Jiardin accompanied him to his office.

"I do not feel comfortable with this whole thing," Duke Jiardin declared.

"Perhaps you do not know enough about Stafa Rakech," responded Duke Everich. "He is the wealthiest man in the world. He has no need of further profit. I believe he does what he does for enjoyment. He shuns the light of the public, so I do not fear him getting involved in the Council, and that is the only thing I worry about. I believe he will be a very valuable ally."

"But how can you be sure it was Stafa Rakech?" questioned Duke Jiardin. "We never really got a look at him."

"And what if we did?" retorted Duke Everich. "Nobody knows what Stafa Rakech looks like. I can tell you for sure that the broach was from the Royal Palace of Sordoa. It alone is more valuable than your whole estate. Did you notice the size of his mercenary force? I cannot think of anyone in Tagaret that could afford to keep such a large force. I would wager that he has over a hundred mercenaries on that estate and they were not young lads either. Those men were well trained. They would not come cheaply."

"I grant you that he has too much wealth to be from Tagaret," persisted Duke Jiardin, "but does that prove he is Stafa Rakech?"

"Can you think of anyplace he could be from and have that much wealth?" quizzed Duke Everich. "Cordonia is no longer a rich country. Sordoa is a wasteland and he certainly did not have a Lanoirian accent. The man reeks of gold. Add to that the fact that nobody has ever found the body of Stafa Rakech and what do you deduce?"

"That his death was faked," conceded Duke Jiardin. "I wonder what it is that he wants in Tagaret?"

"My guess is excitement," stated Duke Everich. "Tagaret is the greatest city to have survived the Collapse. Where else could he choose to live and still receive the level of service that I am sure he is used to?"

Duke Jiardin nodded and changed the subject. "What do we do about Engar? Have you ordered his arrest?"

"Not yet," frowned Duke Everich. "There will of course be a Council meeting called tomorrow after the bitter news about the assassination of Duke D'Ales. I want to find out who Engar is going to nominate before arresting him. After he places a name in nomination, he will be arrested, and I will nominate Niki. You will nominate Fredrik. We will fill both slots with our people and be much closer to controlling the Council."

"Are they both solid backers?" questioned Duke Jiardin.

"Fredrik is for sure," declared Duke Everich. "I am suspicious of Niki though. Dalgar is pushing her, and I do not trust him. I would not mind something happening to her after she has performed that which I require."

***

Fabel tossed back the thin cover and rose off of his mat. He silently made his way out of the servants' sleeping quarters and climbed the stairs to the main residence level of the D'Ales mansion. He paused in the darkness and listened for sounds. Slowly he crept along the corridor until he could see the torch light near the front door. He slipped under the stairway leading to the upper floors and waited. He did not have long to wait.

The D'Ales estate only had a handful of guards and only two of those were on duty at night. The rear guard approached the front door noisily, and Fabel listened to the conversation as the two guards met. It was the same banter that he had heard every night for the past week since he was hired as a servant. Every night the guards exchanged the same old jokes as they prepared to turn in for the night. The guards were old and too casual in their duties to offer any real deterrence to a determined assassin. Fabel shook his head as the front guard extinguished the torch and the two guards headed off for bed. Fabel listened to their banter until he heard the door to their room close.

Fabel slid out from under the stairs and softly padded into the study and unlocked the window. Swiftly, but silently, Fabel returned to the stairs and ascended to the second floor. He crept along the hallway to the master's suite and silently entered the room. He crossed the greeting room and stood outside the sleeping chamber. He paused to listen, but only for a short period of time. Satisfied that the master was sleeping, Fabel eased the door open and slid over to the bed. He reached under his tunic and withdrew a slim dagger with the Engar crest on the handle. Without emotion, Fabel used the dagger to slit the throat of Duke D'Ales. He dropped the dagger in the spreading pool of blood and retreated from the suite.