Absent Assassin 18

 

Chapter 18

 

 

Quester marvelled how much Kiron had grown up, ready to take a less exciting role, watching to stop any of Poltronis’s men getting away. But then, maturity came to everyone, he supposed. He had been a somewhat bossy and didactic little boy, and had needed to learn that his own point of view was not the only way to look at life.

He would have to say something of that sort to Kiron, when this was over, thanking him for being sensible, and laughing about his own childhood bossiness.

Being a Justiciar did not help erode bossiness, but one learned, at least, more tact and diplomacy in managing people. He was glad of the two Highbred; presumably seeing that there were professionals along had helped to sway Kiron’s decision not to make a fuss.

 

The passage started climbing, a mixture of sloping passages and stairs; the Highbred, Purity, and Burdock had to duck at some points where the ceiling was lower. A side passage held the stench of human misery and fear.

“The cells,” said Herakles, fairly unnecessarily. He licked his dry lips; his own sojourn here had not been pleasant.

“We shall come back and conduct a full investigation,” said Quester.”For now, any would be in the way, either hampering us, or risking being shot by Kiron and his men if they fled down the tunnel. Is it much further to the living quarters? I can hear and feel much commotion.”

“A few more yards, and there’s a tapestry over the entrance,” said Herakles.

Quester nodded, and they went on. Quester let his inner ear travel forward, and from their blank looks, so were Lukas and Eusebius.

“Fighting?” said Quester.

“Perhaps some of his minions turned on him,” said Purity. “He was a man who could fascinate and make one do what one would hesitate to do otherwise, but he is not liked.”

“Perhaps so,” said Quester. “Well, let us take advantage of the confusion.”

They stepped forward, through the tapestry, and came upon a scene of bloody mayhem, the stench of blood suddenly in the nose, tasting coppery on the air with the thick tapestry thrust aside. And Quester gasped; on the floor, bleeding, was his childhood companion Kiron and those he had been leading. The mercenaries who had been methodically killing them turned as Eusebius bellowed, “Koskush and the Blessed Abe!” and moved forward. His sidearm spat twice, and then he was in close combat with the rest, the justly famed monomolecular-edged sabre of the Hussars flickering back and forth in a dance of death.

Quester made a decision; Eusebius was an army in himself, and Quester wanted answers. He ducked and weaved to make his way to Kiron, who was coughing blood.

“Kiron!  What happened?” Quester demanded, urgently.

“Leo... I... I was a fool... thought you were over cautious,” coughed Kiron. “Ran up the other passage; wanted to take Poltronis, show you what I was worth... the stay-at-home boy... that I could fight, too.  Ambushed... they heard us coming... Poltronis went down the passageway...”

Quester was feeling for the wounds, trying to heal.

“Kiron... I am sorry I made you feel you had to do that,” he said.

“My... fault,” said Kiron. “Thanks for easing the pain... I can’t survive this... get that bastard. Go!”

The effort he put into that last utterance was too much, and he slumped back, unconscious... no, dead, Quester realised, feeling his soul relinquish his body.

“Go to Abe, Kiron,” he whispered.

His first duty was, as Kiron said, to catch Poltronis. He plunged through the tapestry; the passages met, it was as good a way as any.

He did not have to check to discover that the faithful Burdock was just behind him.

“Boss? Did de Poltroon get away?” asked Burdock, softly.

“Yes; he slipped out when Kiron and the others were being heroic,” said Quester, with bitter irony.

“They should not have died; it’s my fault, I should have been more aware... and not made Kiron feel inadequate.”

He heard Burdock scratch his head noisily.

“It ain’t your fault, sah,” he said. “He knowed we had real soldiers along.  He had free choice. You always says life’s about choices.”

“Thank you, Burdock; I will consider your wise words,” said Quester.

 

Quester and Burdock got back to the boats where the rowers were waiting, agitated.

“We lost him, my lord,” said Jorjios. “What we didn’t know was that there was a stair in the cave and before we could row back and grab him, he was up the stair, and when we landed and followed, we got to the top as a rotodyne was taking off. So we came back down to wait. How did the snotty little bastard get through Kiron and the others?”

“I’m afraid Kiron disobeyed orders, and went up the other passage,” said Quester. “We... came in on a scene of carnage.  I spoke to Kiron... he reminded me my duty was to catch Poltronis. I have failed, and got good men killed for no reason.”

“Quit bellyaching about what went wrong, Leo, and grow up,” growled Jorjios. “I remember you made yourself ill over Markos dying in the bell-tower; that it should have been you because it was your turn. Markos made the choice to go, and had not the sense he was born with to try to go past the monks and take a beating for trespass or risk tearing his clothes climbing out of the window again to descend in a hurry. My son Markos died, you lived, and it wasn’t your fault. Do you remember me asking what you would do if you were caught up there and started feeling sick and giddy?”

“Yes... I said I would try to slide down a rope, and beg the monks to help me,” said Quester.

“And that was the right answer,” said Jorjios. “You know fine well that your big friends are better in battle than you; what would you do if they had told you to stay back whilst they went on?”

“I’d stay where they told me, and try not to be in their way,” said Quester.

“And everyone knows that Kiron had a stubborn and reckless streak and was lucky to still be alive,” said Jorjios.

 

       oOoOo

 

Kiliana was aware of Quester’s mental anguish and anger, and correctly divined that someone had died who should not have died. The level of grief, however, was not as much as she might expect, had it been his father, Burdock, or one of the Hussars, so she assigned it to ‘someone did something a bit stupid, and Leo is blaming himself for letting him.’

She would make him talk about it when he got back.

 

oOoOo

 

“Poltronis got away,” said Quester, dully, to Eusebius. “I’m sorry; I should have realised Kiron was being too acquiescent. And it got him killed.”

“You haven’t seen him in a decade,” said Eusebius. “Perhaps you should have realised; but you let him give you his self-assessment. And he lied to you. People do. They usually pay the consequences. If I had an Imperial Greenback for every time some idiot has lied about their capabilities in order to seem better in front of us, I’d be... well,  I could stand a few rounds of drinks, anyway.  It happens; live with it. Better him than you.”

“We’ve got maps, however,” said Lukas.  “He wiped the data in the control room, but hurriedly, so I’ll go through and see what I can re-create; but he forgot a few physical maps in his hurry. I’ll want to borrow that Buckyhare friend of yours, and given a couple of days planning, we should be able to go and do war on pirates.  So long as a Justiciar authorises us to do so.”

“Be welcome,” said Quester.  “I imagine you will tell me kindly to watch, and keep out of the way.”

“We will,” said Eusebius. “But I’m well aware you’ll trust and obey.”

“I will,” said Quester.

 

oOoOo

 

Quester and his companions were left to find out about the prisoners whilst the Hussars took apart the computer and library.

It appeared that most of those incarcerated were people like Herakles who knew too much and were bold enough to say so; and the father of a thirteen-year-old girl who had hidden his daughter when Poltronis had demanded her. Quester healed the torture wounds the man had suffered to keep her safe, and added it to the charge sheet against Poltronis.

Then, reluctantly, he left with his father and the other fishermen, and his assistants. The Hussars had experts to unravel what they might about where Poltronis might go, and he would only be in the way. The military helicopter took him back to the arena.

Kiliana had coffee for them all, and a meal.

“Ahhh, it’s worth having someone lurking in my thoughts to have everything ready,” said Quester.

“I tried to be discreet about it,” said Kiliana.

“You were. But I did notice,” said Quester. 

There was still plenty of wild boar pork left, and she had made kebobs and had found salad at the food stalls within the arena, just the way he liked it.  The boy Nicos was wearing more respectable clothes.

“They have clothing concessions here too,” said Kiliana. “I signed a chit on your behalf.”

“Well done,” said Quester. “You use your initiative well.”

She blushed.

“Thank you. Did you get him?”

“I’m waiting to find out where we will go to arrest Poltronis; we lost him,” he said.

“I think the Hussars are hoping to go to war with pirates,” said Kiliana.

“It may come to the same thing,” said Quester.

 

 

oOoOo

 

 

Leonides Antillus was screaming in grief, his friend Markos was dead and he had the body of the boy in his arms, and he had to get him away before he, too, died from the horrors that awaited him.

Quester’s eyes snapped open in the darkness, aware he was in a strange room, a strange bed, drenched in sweat and...

And he was not alone. He could hear the breathing of someone else. Someone else who was very close beside him.

Quester thought a rapid prayer to the God-Hero and gathered his will to use his Psion gift in a way which usually horrified him, to cause damage not healing, as he had done to the boar. And bad enough to do it to animals. He had one chance to pierce any defences of the mind creeping up on him...

The mind was already touching his!

With a gasp, Quester realised it was a mind he knew; it was Kiliana.

What was she doing in his room?

“Light,” said Quester, to the voice-controlled lighting system.

Kiliana was not creeping up; apparently she had already crept and was cuddled up next to him.

She stretched and knuckled her eyes.

“Is it morning already?” she asked.

She sounded disgruntled.

“Kiliana, why are you in my bed?” asked Quester.

“Because you were having a nightmare,” said Kiliana. “I sang nursery songs to you, and snuggled up, and you called me ‘Mama’ and went back to sleep.  You were holding my hand and I didn’t like to move in case it set you off again.”

“Abe’s bollocks!” said Quester. “You had better go back to bed.”

“All right,” said Kiliana. “I felt some of what you felt; I asked Burdock, he said that young man who knew you almost got the rest of you killed by wanting to be a hero, and that you walked in on a reception committee, and if you hadn’t had Hussars with you, he would have managed to kill you all. That explains why you were angry, why were you feeling guilty?”

“I... I felt that I had got him killed in not being aware that he resented my position and wanted to show off,” said Quester.

“If anyone should feel guilty, it’s him, for nearly ruining the whole mission. And he did because Poltronis escaped. Now you will have to run him down, rather than just calling in the Knights to put down pirates. You can’t be responsible for the childishness of people you haven’t got as your underlings. It’s not your baggage.”

“People keep telling me so, but you have put another complexion on it. He could have caused the deaths of any one of us, and I should have seen....”

“Nuts,” said Kiliana. “What, are you supposed to second guess someone you haven’t seen in ten years?  If he is fool enough to envy your position but had not the courage to apply for academy, then he has nobody to blame but himself.  And in ten years time, what then? Would burning resentment have drawn him to throw in his lot with Poltronis on the promise of riches?”

“We cannot know that,” said Quester.

“No, but if we cannot know that, nor can you have known he would behave badly now,” said Kiliana.

“I... suppose not. Go to bed, Kiliana; I will sleep better now.”

She nodded, got up, and left the room.

Her figure in the rather sheer nightdress was altogether much more womanly than when he had first met her, and Quester swore when he noticed his body reacting to her.

 

oOoOo

 

Kiliana snuggled into bed, wondering why she felt disappointed. She knew she was safe with Quester.

She sighed.

The problem lay in not wanting to be safe with Quester – with Leo – because those feelings she had pushed aside because they frightened her now made her feel safe, and happy, with him.

He was right, she was too young to make any serious decisions, but that did not mean she could not plan towards a time when she was older. In a month or two. Or even a year. The delicious feelings when he had grabbed her and held her when he had another nightmare were just a little bit better for being remembered than for being experienced for now.

Operation  marry Leo was, however, to be put in train.

Kiliana rolled over and fell asleep happily.

 

oOoOo

 

 

If Quester was embarrassed at breakfast, he tried not to show it, and Kiliana just sang as she got ready porridge, followed by local sausage, fried egg and mushroom, and pita.

“I do like a good breakfas’,” opined Burdock. “Wot we goin’ to do today, boss?”

“I am hoping that the hussars have a good guess as to a location of the pirate base,” said Quester. “In which case we will be storming it; or they will. My authority will give them the right. I don’t know if they’d take supernumeraries,” he added as Burdock looked pleased. The big man’s face fell.

“Oh, well,” said Burdock. “I s’pose one can’t have a good scrap every day, it’d be like havin’ strawberries for every meal. It would get boring.”

“It would,” said Quester.

“Can anyone get tired of strawberries?” asked Nicos, diverted.

“Eventually, if there’s nothing much else,” said Kiliana.  “Are you waiting for Brothers Eusebius and Lukas to contact you, my lord?”

“Yes, and hoping they will have some positive news for me,” said Quester. “And in the meantime, I am going to write, and send, coded report.”

“I am glad I’m not going to be a Justiciar,” said Kiliana. “Too much paperwork.”

“Pert brat,” said Quester, and the rapport was back as she grinned at him.

Then the door crashed open, and a haggard Martellus almost fell in the door.