She wanted to make sure that the people knew the Faith took an interest in all their lives. Gabriella was determined that the Brotherhood would not take a hold of this town.
Six steps behind Gabriella, Dai Batsen allowed the dagger to slide down from his sleeve into his hand. The street was busy, filled with the stink of unwashed humanity and the shouts of hawkers, so she hadn't noticed him. With most people, it would be a simple matter for Batsen to walk up, jam a thin blade through the spinal column, and walk on before his victim even fell. Nobody even noticed such things, and thieves and beggars would be the first to surround a body, intent on looting.
This one would have to be different. She was a trained soldier. There was a chance, however faint, that she would be alerted to his approach.
He watched as she turned into a short cut that led through from the market square, just as he'd told the street urchin to direct her. The alley was short, but empty, and Batsen saw his chance. He slipped forward, the dagger already swinging for her neck.
Gabriella heard a faint scrape behind her and began to turn. She got a momentary glimpse of a shaven head, before her assailant lunged forward. A dagger flashed past her face and then the man's full weight slammed into her back. His other arm whipped around her neck, squeezing against the arteries below her ears, while she tried to keep the hand with the dagger pressed between her hip and the wall, so that he couldn't use it. She began to feel light-headed as the crook of his arm crushed the arteries in her neck and she stamped down with her heel as she lashed her head backwards. Bone splintered under the impact of her skull and he let go as he fell. Gabriella turned and kicked him in the face before he hit the ground.
The alley was too narrow for her to use her swords, but he had no such problem with the dagger in his hand. He swung for her throat, but she turned, left hand already blocking and tried to counterpunch him in the gut. He twisted sideways and slashed at her inner forearm. The knife caught on one of her wrist bracers and clattered away.
A kick to her chest knocked her backwards and back out into the market square, giving Batsen distance to draw another weapon, a pair of long pointed bodkins. Gabriella regained her feet and drew her swords. Batsen caught her blades between the bodkins and pushed them away. Momentarily, both of them had their arms spread wide, then each launched a kick to push the other away. They fell back from each other.
Batsen tucked his elbows in and rolled under a cart before Gabriella could get to her feet. She darted round the cart, but he was already gone.
CHAPTER 9
Erak paced around the vestry, looking for something to lash out at. His angular face was flushed with anger. Enlightened One Stoll looked just as angry, but his was more a glowering mood as he studied one of the maps Gabriella had drawn during her scouting trip.
"That wasn't just someone taking exception to a member of the Faith, or even the Swords being here. That was a targeted attack, Gabriella. Somebody wanted to kill you specifically." Erak said.
"And I can make a guess as to who."
"Goran Kell," he said. His lips were still thinned and white, as if he was ready to bite at someone and Gabriella felt momentarily honoured that he felt as she did. "Who else have you annoyed recently?"
"Not as much of Pontaine as I'd intended. Yet" She grabbed a piece of parchment and a charcoal stick and started trying to draw the assailant's face before it faded from her memory. "The man didn't look like someone from this area, though. Too pale."
"Kell hired one assassin," Stoll pointed out, "so he won't have compunctions about hiring another. After all, you've come to find his oh-so profitable Golden Huntress and to hunt him."
Erak nodded. "And you're the one who chased down the assassin he hired."
"Then we must be onto something. We must be closer to finding the Huntress than we know…"
"All right, what did this man look like?" Erak said.
Gabriella returned to the drawing. "He was bald," she said. She finished her drawing and held it up. It was a good likeness, she was sure.
Stoll took it. "You've got a real skill for this, you know. If you'd stayed living in Pontaine you'd probably be a famous artist by now."
"Fame doesn't interest me." She was pleased all the same, She had always loved to draw as a child and it still gave her a thrill when someone got pleasure from a picture of hers. "Does he look familiar?"
Stoll shook his head. "No. But I'll pass this around town later and see whether anyone recognises him."
"I suppose that will have to do," Gabriella muttered. She caught Stoll's expression and reddened. "I mean no disrespect to you efforts, Enlightened One. It's just a little frustrating."
"I can imagine."
"There's something else I'd been meaning to ask you." She handed him a copy of the map she had drawn earlier. "Do you know who lives here?" She pointed to the last location she had visited on her scouting trip. The soldier-at-arms who had pursued the fugitive from the Brotherhood Dreamweed den had returned earlier, and pointed to that place on the map as the place the man had gone to.
Stoll studied the page for a moment. "That's Warrigan's farm."
"Warrigan?"
"He's a gamekeeper with a small farm run from his cottage. He's one of several gamekeepers in the vicinity who owe fealty to Lord Aristide. He comes to church perhaps once or twice a year, at the major holidays."
Erak grunted. "One of those 'just-in-case' types?"
"I'm afraid so."
Gabriella took the map back and studied it. "Then why did someone think that taking word of our visit was so important?"
"Well, he is Aristide's man… And any of the Lords in Pontaine would be keen to keep an eye on visitors from the Empire. Still, it seems that you've both had quite a productive day despite the, er, negative aspects of it."
"You could put it that way," Gabriella agreed, putting the map back on the table. "Which reminds me, we have a guest. Would you like to hear his confession tomorrow, Enlightened One?" Since she had never found a Healer, they would need to wait for the man to sober up the old-fashioned way.
"Why not?" Stoll said magnanimously.
The man from the Brotherhood's little Dreamweed den was in a novice's cell with a soldier-at-arms on guard outside. The Brotherhood man had sobered up by morning, which was unfortunate for him, as the agony from his smashed jaw was no longer dulled.
"Remember me?" Gabriella asked brightly. "And this is Enlightened Brother Brand. And I'm sure you know your local Enlightened One."
"Hello, Collin," Stoll said with a smile. "I must say I'm disappointed to find you being brought to me under such circumstances."
The young man looked at Stoll and winced. "It's all right, Enlightened One. I just…" He trailed off. "I dunno. Look, I'm sorry, all right?"
"Remorse is good," Erak commented. "And it's not too late to see the light."
"How d'you mean?"
"You tell us things, and we help you see the error of your sinning ways."
"What things?"
"Firstly," Gabriella began, "when I found you at your little den, you said the other Brotherhood members from the area were — "
"They're gone."
"That was it."
"I meant what I said. They're not here." The prisoner grimaced with every word. He hadn't been cleaned up at all and the dried blood on his face cracked and flaked off as his expression contorted. "Look, there used to be a Dreamweed place at the north corner, in the old tannery. The guy who ran it disappeared a couple of months ago. We thought maybe he'd been nobbled by the Faith, or by Aristide, so we set up a new place in that shop you found us in."