Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(128)



Rielle brought her attention back to her immediate surroundings and looked at Valhan. His head was slightly turned away, his narrowed eyes focused on something within the building.

She jumped as a shadow detached from the doorway. It moved forward and become a middle-aged man as it emerged into the sunlight.

“Raen,” he said, dropping to his knees. “Ruler of worlds.”

Valhan turned to face the man. Curious, Rielle delved inside the stranger’s mind. His name was Doeh, and he was the assistant of the man in charge of agricultural laws. He was trembling with excitement and anticipation.

Valhan did not speak and as the silence stretched the assistant gathered the courage to look up. His gaze flickered from Valhan to Rielle and back. “I… I… I have been told you will grant a favour to those who ask. Is… is this true?”

“It is,” Valhan replied.

The assistant swallowed and looked down at the floor. “There is a man.” He paused, then rushed on. “He gains pleasure from blocking every attempt I make to better myself and my family. Would you…?” He glanced back into the shadows of the room behind, then lowered his voice. “I can see no other way. Would you kill him for me?”

Rielle caught her breath. The man Doeh wanted to kill was his employer, Beva. Doeh believed he would be chosen to replace him. There is nobody else, he was thinking. Only I understand his system of record-keeping, and know all the tithe-collectors. It would mean a doubling of his wage. He could afford the fancy house his wife admired so much.

“What do you offer in return?” Valhan asked. Rielle glanced at him. Surely he would not agree to this.

“I have little to offer now,” Doeh replied, spreading his hands. “But if you do this I should soon have a great deal to give. Perhaps I could… owe you?”

Valhan’s chin rose a fraction. “A favour such as this requires one of equal value.”

The man blinked, then his eyes slowly widened as he realised what that meant. A murder for a murder? Surely not! I may as well murder Beva myself. Though perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to get away with murdering a stranger than my own superior. There’d be no motive, no connection between us. “Ah…” he began and drew breath to voice his agreement, then stopped as something else occurred to him. Yet when would I have to do this other murder? Now? Later? I don’t think I could sleep knowing what I’d have to do. And if the Raen kills Beva they might still guess someone asked him to, and suspect me…

Rielle resisted the temptation to tap her foot. She wondered if Beva was keeping Doeh’s ambitions in check because he was a little slow. Assuming Beva didn’t already know his assistant wanted to kill him.

“Ah…” Doeh said again. “I… I withdraw my request. Please forgive me for interrupting.” He took a step backwards, then another, then turned and fled.

“We had better warn Beva,” Rielle said.

Valhan shook his head. “It is unlikely Doeh will gather the courage to kill him, and probable that Beva will replace him as soon as a smarter assistant is available.”

She frowned at him. “But should we leave that to chance?”

He smiled faintly. “Warning him may have greater repercussions. Consequences we can’t predict.”

Doeh would be executed, she realised. Perhaps saying nothing to Beva was better. Doeh had a chance to reconsider how far he was prepared to go to fulfil his ambitions.

“What would you have done if he’d agreed?” she asked.

The smile deepened. “That depends on whether I needed someone murdered.”

A shiver ran down her spine as she realised she wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking. Looking away, she grimaced at the view. Don’t ask questions you know you might not like the answer to, she told herself.

“Fortunately, I don’t,” Valhan continued, turning back to face the city. “Murder is an unreliable way of solving problems. As is war. There is something else I want to show you.”

He extended his hand. She looked at it and paused. The hand of a killer. Well, what right do I have to be so judgemental? My own hands have blood on them, too. She grasped it and drew a deep breath.

The balcony and ruined city bleached into white. It was replaced by a wide circle of white paving stones in the centre of a convergence of streets. Hundreds of people made their way along these thoroughfares and around the circular road, avoiding the central pavement despite no physical barrier to keep them out. Lone men hauled strange little vehicles of one seat suspended between two big wheels. Sets of four or more carried platforms bearing one or two people. Some even carried others on their backs. If not, they carried other burdens–from small objects to ones large enough to bend them almost double. A few only carried whips, flicking them at one or two of the overburdened carriers.

Nobody paid her and Valhan any attention.

The air was heavy and moist, and smelled of vegetation though she could see no sign of plants. From the angle of the shadows it was either early morning or nearing dusk. Reaching out into the sea of minds around them, she learned it was the former. She caught glimpses of other parts of the city through the eyes of its citizens: inside homes, the abundant fields beyond the city edge, other crossroads like these from which sorcerers left this world, or arrived within it. The city was huge, though not as big as the ones she had seen in Puht and Koijen.

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