Chapter Forty-eight
Joaquim shivered. He had not felt warm since he awoke in the garden, curled up in a ball, the late summer sun pounding down on him. It was cool here in Sipir’s old rooms, but neither warmth nor shade made any difference in the chill that held him.
The stench of rot and decay was thick in the building. Joaquim covered his mouth with one hand as he fished out the heavy chest from underneath the bed. He gripped it with his good hand—his left hand, once his dagger hand. Dueling days were over, though. It was hard to duel when your dominant hand no longer responded at times, and, when it did, it moved as though Joaquim were underwater.
He lifted the chest awkwardly. He did not need to open it to know it still held the Jaecan coins; the weight was enough to tell him that. He could barely feel the pressure of the chest on his right arm. The cold was worst in that arm, the arm that had gripped oblivion. It felt cold, almost numb, and strangely weightless—as though that cord of blackness had hollowed out the limb, depriving it of some vital core. Still, he had the chest now, and that was enough.
“This the bastard that had you captive?” Zirolo said as Joaquim made his way out of the building.
Joaquim looked back at the rotting corpse, still lying on the stairs, and nodded.
“Coi too,” Joaquim said. “That’s how I got lucky and found him.”
“Bel take me,” Zirolo said. “I didn’t believe the rumors at first. Bel’s balls, you’re one lucky bastard. Coi sure knows how to be grateful.”
“Yeah,” Joaquim said. “If you don’t count being taken captive, seeing the woman I love killed before my eyes, and then being crippled.”
Zirolo’s handsome face sagged for a moment; he was slow, but not that slow. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just, it’s just that . . . Bel burn me, I didn’t think about it that way, I’m sorry. You’re right. But, Day Sister bless us, being named Coi’s heir must make up for some of it.”
Joaquim shrugged. Coi’s heir. He couldn’t really believe it, but not in the way Zirolo might expect. Bonacore Coi had kept his promise and told the world that Joaquim had saved him. Then he had done something more. Naming Joaquim his heir had stunned the city. Men and women alike were seeking Joaquim out day and night, trying to forge a marriage before Joaquim could make a mistake and father a bastard. Coi’s decision unnerved Joaquim. The man was cold, calculating. He had an agenda, but Joaquim could not figure it out.
“What’s in there? Something they took from you?” Zirolo said.
“Something like that,” Joaquim said. “I need to take it to my father.”
Zirolo nodded and called to the other Order men who were waiting for them. In a few moments, Joaquim was walking up the hill to his father’s office, heavy chest still balanced awkwardly by his damaged arm. Too many lies, too many secrets, about what had really happened. Still, he was Coi’s heir now. The Jaecan money wouldn’t do Joaquim any good, but it would give his father a new lease on life. New ships, new men, new merchandise. An empire, as far as most men were concerned.
“What are you going to do?” Zirolo asked. “Coi want you to be part of the business now? I heard his best man disappeared—but then, he was Jaecan, so makes sense I guess.”
“He’s sending me to Aqeur for a bit,” Joaquim said. “And then on to Ghiynmar.”
“Bloody Bel,” Zirolo said. “You lucky bastard, that’s a trip of a lifetime.”
“Well, you can go in my place,” Joaquim said. “I’m not interested, but Coi insists.”
“You don’t make any sense to me,” Zirolo said. “A month ago, you would have been dancing in the streets to be going to Ghiynmar, not to mention heir to one of the largest fortunes in the city.”
“Not anymore,” Joaquim said. He did not want to treat the other topics. “Coi’s holdings took a massive hit. Someone from the inside, apparently. He’ll probably lose his seat as a Father.”
“Still,” Zirolo said, “you’re set for life. Maybe you can do something about the eastern gardens. I haven’t been over to see, but I hear they’re destroyed. Trust the Bloodless and the Brilliant Flame to leave things a mess.”
A mess. It did not describe the gardens accurately. Devastated. The plants burned and uprooted, the careful lines of boxhedge and laurels slashed and uprooted. Joaquim’s mind moved from the gardens, though, to the real reason he did not want to go to Ghiynmar.
Somewhere out there were two men who knew what had happened to him, who could explain why he was still alive and, worse yet, why he was a cripple. Two men whom idiots like Zirolo would call heroes, but who, in reality, were monsters.
Joaquim shut Zirolo’s voice out and began to think. Going to Ghiynmar would ruin everything; he would lose any chance of tracking the two men. No, he would have to leave soon, before they could disappear completely. Tonight, tomorrow at the latest. That meant that after he left the gold with his parents he would need to return to the docks, begin asking questions. If he did not have the Day Sister’s smile, he would have to move on to the gates.
Already planning what he would need to take with him, Joaquim smiled. Adence and Erlandr had a lot of explaining to do when he caught them. Maybe I’ll kill one to start. So the other one knows I’m serious. Joaquim’s family was safe now; they would not want for anything. Coi and his politicking would have to wait. Joaquim would leave tonight.
Sample of The Dew of Flesh