Part 18 (2/2)
Kat grunted. ”That's something at least. What about the rest of the Tattooed Men?”
”A lot of razzer activity in the aftermath, what with the fire and everything, so we decided to scatter and go to ground for a few days.”
Kat nodded. She might well have ordered the same under the circ.u.mstances, though it would have been handy to have the men readily available. As they continued to chat, she told the other two about Brent, a discussion which interested the apothaker, who thought the man Kat had seen in conversation with the sinister outsider sounded suspiciously like the client who had visited her immediately before the Soul Thief's attack, a certain Sur Sander...
Kat drew the hood off their prisoner, not bothering to be gentle. The man, Sander, hadn't stopped snivelling since they first jumped him. He'd whimpered as they led him the short distance here, begged for mercy as he was forced to sit in the chair, and had now lapsed into simply crying, as his imagination doubtless painted goodness only knew what pictures of the fate awaiting him. Kat didn't imagine they'd have much trouble getting information out of this one.There was no question in her mind, Sander was the man she'd seen talking to Brent and a member of the Fang the night she'd been scouring the rooftops in search of the Soul Thief's lair.
M'gruth threw her an apple. She smiled at their captive. Tears and snot ran down his face as he stared back, wide-eyed. She took a bite from the apple, tossed it a little way into the air directly in front of Sander, then whipped up the sword in her other hand to slice through the fruit as it reached the apex of its flight. Sander jumped in his restraints and cried out as the blade flashed close to his face. Two uneven halves of apple fell to the floor.
”Now, Sur Sander, tell us about Brent.”
She saw his eyes widen at mention of the name. ”Wh... who? I don't know anyone called Brent.”
”Liar!” She screamed the word, thrusting her face forward until her nose almost touched his.
He whimpered and shrank away.
”I saw you talking to him a few nights ago.” She stood up again. ”Now, there are two ways this can go. Either you tell us the truth straight away and we walk out of here without harming you, or you continue to lie, we slice off your fingers one by one, and then you tell us the truth. It's your choice. I don't care either way, but I thought that you might have a preference.”
She brought the sword up, pressing the point to his cheek. The man was a mess, unable to take his eyes off of the blade She applied a little more pressure, p.r.i.c.king his skin and drawing a thin line of blood across his cheek. ”So, what's it to be, eh, Sur Sander?”
He was crying silently now, his body convulsing within the restraints. ”You've no idea what he's like...” he almost whispered between sobs. ”He'd have killed me if I'd dared to refuse. I had to do it.”
”Had to do what, Sur Sander?” Kat asked, her face still close to his though the sword had been withdrawn, her voice soft, almost soothing. ”What was it Brent forced you to do for him?”
”You know, you know!” he cried. ”Else you wouldn't have brought me here.”
”We do know, yes, of course we know, but we want to hear it from you.”
”I... I can't... please.”
”Yes you can!” she screamed again.
After a fresh sob, he tried to speak. ”I...” The words emerged as if each and every one was an individual torment. ”I led her... that thing... to them.”
”The Soul Thief, you mean.”
”Yes.”
”To the talented.”
”Yes.”
”What you're telling us is that this man, Brent, forced you to lead that abomination to the homes of the healers, the apothakers, the seers and the spirit talkers, to anyone who showed the slightest sign of real talent.”
”Yes, yes,” Sander whispered, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. ”You have to believe me... I didn't have a choice.”
”But he paid you, didn't he.”
Silence followed her words.
”Didn't he!”
”Yes.”
”There's always a choice, Sur Sander. You took this stranger's coin to betray your own kind. You became these people's clients, earned their trust, and then you found an excuse to visit their homes knowing that death shadowed your footsteps, and your pockets grew heavier with each and every one. That was your choice”
New sobs wracked the pathetic man's body. Kat felt nauseous. She wanted to slap him, to spit at him, to draw her swords and run him through, but refrained; not while they needed what he knew.
”What else could I do? ” Sander whined. ”He's evil, pure evil... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” This last was spoken in the direction of the apothaker, who had hung back, preferring to stay in the shadows, though she could still be seen.
Kat couldn't bottle it up completely. ”You disgust me.”
He hung his head, refusing to meet her eyes. Kat paced up and down in front of him, controlling the rage, resisting the urge to leap on this b.a.s.t.a.r.d and stab him, again and again. No wonder the Soul Thief had killed so many this time around. She'd had a guide. But who exactly was this Brent, was he really just hired help as he claimed? What was his connection, or his employer's, with the monster that had now killed both Kat's mother and her sister?
She stopped in front of Sander's chair again. ”And where can we find your friend Brent right now?
”I don't know.”
”That's a shame. We were doing so well, and then you have to go and lie to me again.” She looked up, to where a muscular figure stood behind the chair. ”M'gruth, free his hands would you? And bring the right one forward where we can all see it. We'll start by taking off the little finger I think.”
M'gruth grabbed the prisoner's arm, about to comply.
”No, no wait, please. Mill Lane, he's staying on Mill Lane.”
”That's better. See how easy it is? Now, whereabouts in Mill Lane?”
”A tavern... a small place called the White Ox.”
Kat looked to M'gruth, who shook his head. He didn't know that one either. ”And that's in Mill Street, you say?”
”Mill Lane, not Mill Street, north end, on the conveyor side. But don't tell him you found out from me, please.”
He sounded genuine. She felt sure this was the truth in as far as he knew it. ”Oh, we won't, don't worry. I doubt there'll be much conversation of any sort when we catch up with Sur Brent.”
Kat nodded towards the grim-faced M'gruth. The two of them headed towards the door. She didn't spare Sander another glance.
”Wait, where are you going?” he called out. ”You said you'd set me free if I told you the truth.”
”No, I didn't,” Kat replied without stopping. ”What I said was that we'd leave without harming you, and we are.”
”But I'm not leaving,” the apothaker said, stepping forward. ”At least not until you and I have had a cosy little chat about my Kara, about what you brought into my home and how you helped to murder her.”
”No, please, you can't leave me here... not with her,” Sander called after them. ”I told you everything you wanted to know... please!” Kat didn't blame him for pleading on that score. The apothaker might seem elderly and frail, but Kat had seen the look in the woman's eyes when they'd discussed the plan, and didn't doubt she'd make Sander pay for his betrayals.
Even after the door was shut behind them, Kat could still hear his desperate, whining voice, though the sound didn't bring the satisfaction she'd hoped for, not when set against all the loss she'd suffered of late. Still, there was every chance that the antic.i.p.ated meeting with Brent would prove of greater help on that front.
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