Dragon Weather (53 page)

Hide, though, was reputedly a dealer in gemstones and curiosities on the Street of the Jewelers, just a few hundred yards away from Arlian's front gate. What could be more natural than that Lord Obsidian, known to be a collector of obsidian trinkets, should pay Hide's establishment a visit?

Accordingly, Arlian put on his best satin blouse, wrapped a fine velvet cloak about himself, clapped on a dashing feather-trimmed hat, and set out for a brisk walk to the Street of the Jewelers. Once there, however, he encountered a delay he had not foreseen, one so obvious that he cursed himself for not expecting it.

He didn't know which shop it was.

There were signboards, of course, and even names painted on window glass, but he would hardly expect a jeweler to use the name Hide. Jewelry was meant for display, not concealment.

He ambled down the street, glancing in windows, looking for some indication and trying to conjure up Hide's image in his mind's eye.

It was still there—that moment when Hide had beckoned to him and said, “Come on, lad. We'll get you out of here,” was burned into his memory—but it was not as clear as he might have liked. And of course, that was nine years ago—Hide would undoubtedly have changed considerably.

Most of the shops, he noticed, did not make ostentatious display of their contents—but then, what jeweler could afford to keep enough stock on hand to make a grand presentation, and to risk showing it where a bold thief might break in and grab it? The displays Arlian saw were modest—one goldsmith had a single pair of ornate gilt candlesticks in his window, while a nearby jeweler made do with simply the tools of his trade.

A silversmith by the name of Gorian, on the other hand, had an impressive decanter and matching goblets surrounded by lesser works—buckles, brooches, even a silver-trimmed leather slave collar—in his window, behind heavy iron bars.

And just beyond, Arlian saw, was an even gaudier display—crystal, mother-of-pearl, rare woods, onyx and jade, made into boxes and candelabra and statuettes. Arlian stopped and studied this assortment, hoping to catch a sight of the shop's proprietor.

A plump young woman emerged from the shadowy interior and called through the open door, “Is there something you'd like to see better, my lord?”

“No, thank you,” Arlian said, tipping his hat. He turned away. She might be Hide's wife, or sister, or even daughter, but she was certainly not Hide …

But she might know where Hide could be found. Arlian turned back.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Perhaps you could help me after all. Someone mentioned that an old acquaintance of mine who went by the name of Hide now has a shop on this street, but I'm afraid I've forgotten the details of how to find it. Might you know? He was a well-built fellow when I knew him, and had a sleeveless leather jacket he was fond of, but I can't think of his true name at all.”

She smiled charmingly at him. “He doesn't use his true name,” she said. “And in truth, my lord, I think you'd know his new name when you saw it, even though it's not Hide.”

“Oh?” Arlian smiled back. “What is it, then?”

“Seek,” she replied.

“Oh,” Arlian said, grinning foolishly.

“He specializes in finding unusual items,” she explained. “He and I have done business on occasion—when I've come across something so strange that he'd have an easier time selling it, or when he's acquired a fine piece that isn't sufficiently out of the ordinary for his customers.” She pointed down the street. “I don't think you'll have any trouble finding him.”

“Thank you, madam,” Arlian said, with an elaborate bow and flourish. “I am in your debt.”

“Then perhaps you'll pay that debt by sending me some trade, eh?”

“I will, indeed,” Arlian said. “For now, though, I really
must
find Hide—or rather, Seek.” He made a second, smaller bow, then turned to go.

“It's on the right!” the woman called after him, and he waved his hat in acknowledgment.

A moment later he reached his goal, and recognized it immediately.

Seek's shop was small but elegant; the signboard read simply
S
EEK
, C
URIOSITIES
, and the window held nothing but a blue velvet cloth and a white card reading, “The Finest Exotica in Manfort.” The door was equipped with a glass bell that tinkled brightly as Arlian stepped in.

He found himself in a small room furnished with two velvet-upholstered chairs and a counter faced with an unfamiliar wood. The walls were paneled with the same material, and polished to a silky gleam. Whatever the wood was, it had a grain that curled and twisted like nothing Arlian had ever seen before.

There were three small shelves on the right-hand wall, providing the only display of merchandise to be seen. One held a set of four goblets made from inverted human skulls set on claw-shaped silver stems; the next bore a display of gemstones carved into detailed likenesses of various insects and spiders; and on the last sat an elaborate construction of gold wire, crystal rods, and orbs of multicolored glass that Arlian could make no sense of whatsoever.

Arlian was looking at this last, trying to puzzle it out, when the blue velvet drapery behind the counter parted and Seek stepped out.

Arlian turned and studied him.

It was a man of roughly the same size as Hide, and the right build, and the face was familiar, but Arlian was not absolutely sure it was the same man. This person was visibly older, visibly softer and plumper, and far better dressed than the Hide Arlian remembered—the shopkeeper's hair and beard were trimmed and oiled and flawlessly arranged, his cream-and-gold vest was embroidered silk rather than leather, and his entire appearance generally that of a wealthy, sophisticated man.

“May I help you, my lord?” Seek asked, resting his palms on the counter.

“I hope so,” Arlian said.

“If what you desire can be found, my lord, rest assured, we can find it for you,” Seek said. “It may take a significant amount of time and money, of course.”

“I don't think much time or money will be needed in my case,” Arlian said. “It may be that all I want will be certain information I suspect you may already possess.”

“Oh?
May
be?”

“That's right; I haven't yet decided whether there might be more I want of you.” He looked Seek in the eye, seeking some sign of recognition, some indication of what sort of man this was, that it was indeed the same Hide he had come looking for.

Seek stared back, unperturbed. “And what would this information be?” he asked.

Arlian hesitated for a second; Seek waited patiently. Finally, Arlian asked, “Nine years ago, when you were still called Hide, why did you go to the village of Obsidian, on the Smoking Mountain?”

Seek's eyes widened, but he showed no other sign of surprise or distress. “I was paid to go,” he replied calmly. “Five ducats, all expenses, and my share of the loot. At the time that was more than sufficient to entice me.” He leaned forward across the counter. “I take it that you are Lord Obsidian? The one who disposed of Sahasin, Lord Kuruvan, and Lord Iron?”

“I am known by that name, yes,” Arlian admitted.

“And have you come here to kill me, too, to avenge the looting of that village?”

“Should I?” Arlian challenged him.

Seek smiled for the first time since he had come through the curtain, a crooked, sardonic smile. “I am, of course, biased,” he said. “But no, I think killing me would be disproportionately harsh. After all, who was harmed by the looting of ruins? Any heirs those villagers might have had would probably be no more than distant cousins, and stealing property they had not earned and might never have thought to claim at all simply doesn't strike me as an offense deserving death.” He turned his palms up and shrugged. “Of course, your own view may differ, since you seem to have appointed yourself the gods' avatar of vengeance for various wrongs. As I said, I am biased in my favor.”

“And what of selling into slavery a free-born boy who had just been orphaned?”

The smile vanished.

“That was unfortunate, at the very least,” Seek agreed. “If you wish to make the punishment fit the crime, though, I would still not consider it deserving of death. Death is so very final. Wouldn't enslavement be more fitting?” Before Arlian could respond, he added, “I compliment you on your sources of information.”

“No compliments are called for,” Arlian replied. “Then you believe yourself deserving of enslavement?”

Seek frowned.

“That depends,” he said. “I concede that on the most basic level of an eye for an eye, a life for a life, and so on, it would seem just that I serve a term of years as a slave in the mines of Deep Delving. I take it, though, that the boy did eventually regain his freedom, and that you know him? He's alive and well?”

Arlian nodded.

“Then you see that death would be inappropriate—and enslavement would never quite match up properly, since he must have emerged from the mines still a young man with his life ahead of him, while I could not count on anything of the sort. And furthermore, am I really the foolish young man who helped loot that village? I've changed since then, my lord—not merely in appearance, but in any number of ways. I would not stand idly by now, as I did then; I would at the very least speak a few words of protest. Is it just to punish the man you see before you, the honest businessman, trusted by his clients and, I flatter myself, respected by his fellows, for crimes committed by a man desperate to find a place for himself, willing to do almost anything to make enough money to ensure he would not find himself in a slaver's net? Had you apprehended me back then, why yes, enslavement would have been a fitting penalty for my crimes—but now? I am not so certain. Consider also what that boy might have become had we
not
allowed Lord Dragon to sell him—his family was dead, his home destroyed. We did not know whether he had kinsmen living elsewhere, or whether any such would take him in. Had we left him as we found him, might he not have starved to death? Or might he not have found himself in the clutches of other slavers?”

“He might,” Arlian conceded, “but had he—had
I
no right to take that risk, if I chose?”

“A child's fate is never his own,” Seek said with a sweeping gesture. “He is always at the mercy of those around him, whether his parents or other adults, as we are all at the mercy of gods, dragons, and Fate.”

“We will never know what might have become of me had you not found me,” Arlian said. “I don't think, therefore, that that should be weighed in the balance. Airy suppositions cannot be made to support anything.”

“True enough.” Seek tipped his head and eyed Arlian. “So you were that boy? I'd never have recognized you.”

“Oh? Cover did,” Arlian said.

“Did he? Well, his memory must be better than mine. What's become of Cover?”

“Dead of a fever. He was dying when I found him.”

“He saved you the trouble of punishing him, then.”

“Maybe,” Arlian admitted.

Seek studied him. “And you're still considering killing me?”

“Maybe,” Arlian repeated.

Seek smiled his crooked, humorless smile again. “As I said, we are all at the mercy of Fate, and clearly Fate has brought you here, out of Deep Delving. Yet we are free to act or not, as we please; we can refuse the opportunities Fate thrusts upon us.”

“You're suggesting I should let you go unpunished?”

“Well, naturally, I would prefer it,” Seek said with a shrug. “I would offer to pay compensation, but from what I understand, you have become wealthy enough that any payment I could make would be insignificant. I stood by and let Lord Dragon wrong you, and I concede that you are justified in thinking ill of me, but I question whether any penalty you might impose at this late date would be appropriate. If the purpose of punishment is to ensure I never repeat my crime, why, then you need do nothing—I would never again do anything of the sort. I'm content with my lot here in Manfort, and have no intention of gallivanting about with a band of brigands, looting ruins, ever again. If the purpose is to discourage others, consider the possibility that you might merely convince the next man in my situation to kill any potential witnesses outright, lest they come back to haunt him, as you have manifested yourself here. And if the purpose is to ease your own mind and satisfy your own anger, then judge your own emotions carefully.”

“And what if I seek to please the gods by seeing that justice is done?”

Seek shook his head. “Surely whatever gods may yet survive know what justice is better than we mere mortals, and can take care of their own needs in that regard.”

Arlian smiled wryly. “You speak convincingly,” he said.

“I make my living by convincing people they need what I have to sell,” Seek said, with a wave of his hand. “Knowing that my life is at risk here impels me to do my best.”

“By your own admission, though, you wronged me—does that put you in my debt?”

“I will agree that it does,” Seek said. “Indeed, a chance to repay you would be welcome, if the payment is not exorbitant. Was there something I have that you wanted?”

“Information,” Arlian said. “As you say, I have all the wealth I need—but not all the knowledge I need.”

Seek bowed as low as he could while behind the counter. “I am at your service, my lord.”

“Then tell me,” Arlian said, “every detail you remember of your expedition to the Smoking Mountain. How did Lord Dragon recruit you? Did you know his true name? Do you know it now? Did he tell you where you were bound, and what you would find there?”

Seek took a deep breath. “Well,” he said. “Let me see…” He scratched his head thoughtfully.

He had been a boy when he started running errands for a man known as Parcel; the story Hide had heard was that he was called that because he was like several men bundled into a single package, and he had paid Hide a ducat to carry a message. Hide had then asked for more work, and Parcel, amused, had provided it.