Promise of Blood

The back door through the hallway and past the kitchen was ajar. He dropped the post on a side table and removed a cane from the holder near the door. SouSmith headed to the sitting room. Adamat came around the corner behind him, cane held high. He lowered it slowly.

“You saved me a trip,” he said.

Palagyi sat in Adamat’s favorite chair, next to the fireplace, hands folded in his lap. He had the same two goons with him as last time. The lockpick lounged on the sofa, boots on, and the big one with the coal-stained arms studied his family portrait above the mantle. A fourth man sat behind Adamat’s desk, hands folded serenely in his lap.

Palagyi’s eyes grew wide at the sight of SouSmith. “You were coming to see me?” he said.

“Yes, I just was.”

“I can’t imagine why. There’s no way you have the money you owe me.” Again, he eyed SouSmith nervously.

Adamat took a deep breath, gathered his composure. “No, but I have some of it. You said you’d leave me be until my time was up.”

“And I have,” Palagyi said.

Adamat looked around the room. “I’ve got well over a month left.”

“You gave me the wrong address for your family,” Palagyi said.

“I gave you my cousins’ address,” Adamat said.

“Your cousins are a family of brawlers?”

“Seven sons, all take after their father,” Adamat said. “Very successful prizefighters.”

“Yes,” Palagyi said, “Well, that may be, your family wasn’t there.”

“Really?”

“And when my boys pressed the question, they were forcibly removed from the town,” Palagyi said. “In tar and feathers.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Adamat said. He smiled inwardly but kept his expression flat.

Palagyi worked to control himself. “I’m willing to let this go.”

Adamat froze. Palagyi was up to something. “Why?” he said.

Palagyi examined his fingernails. “I want to introduce you to my new friend,” he said. He gestured to the man sitting at Adamat’s desk. “This is Lord Vetas. He’s a man of various talents. And he has powerful friends.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Adamat gave the man a curt nod and a quick inspection. He had the dusty, yellow skin of a full-blooded Rosvelean. He wore all-black clothes but for a scarlet vest and the gold chain of a pocket watch visible at his breast pocket. He sat in Adamat’s chair like a schoolboy with perfect posture and his eyes traveled around the room with the steady inspection of someone who sees everything.

“You knew about the coup,” Palagyi said, bringing Adamat’s attention back to him. “Even before the papers. The night before, you were gone half the night. Summoned somewhere. My man saw you leave. You returned and immediately put your family in a carriage to—”

“Somewhere safe,” Adamat finished.

“Somewhere safe,” Palagyi continued. “And then you wrote a lot of letters. Sent them who knows where? You practically ran up to the university, skipping the execution—which seems strange, because not another soul in Adopest did. Since then you’ve been prowling around Adopest, hiring carriages to the north and east, writing more letters. You’ve been to every library in southern Adro.”

“I see you’ve hired better people to follow me,” Adamat said.

“Yes, I did.” Palagyi polished his fingernails on his waistcoat.

“Even so, it took you this long to add things up?”

“I won’t let you spoil my mood,” Palagyi said. “You’re working for Tamas. I know you are. And Lord Vetas knows as well. Along with his master.”

Adamat studied the man behind his desk. “And who might that be?”

“Someone with a vested interest in the affairs of Adro and the rest of the Nine.” It was the first time Lord Vetas had spoken. His voice was quiet, measured with the enunciation of a man educated at the best schools.

“A criminal?” Adamat said. “Palagyi rarely deals with people who aren’t. The Proprietor, perhaps?”

Lord Vetas gave a dry chuckle. “No,” he said.

“Stop trying to change the subject,” Palagyi snarled. He stood up. “You work for Tamas now, don’t you?”

“Sit down,” Lord Vetas said. Palagyi sat.

“And if I do?” Adamat said.

Palagyi opened his mouth.

“Quiet,” Lord Vetas said. He spoke the word softly. Palagyi’s mouth snapped shut. “You may go now, Palagyi. You’ve made the introductions.”

Palagyi glared at Lord Vetas. “Don’t think you’ll take the credit for this yourself. I discovered this. I told Lord—”

The garrote came up around Palagyi’s throat and snapped tight from behind. Adamat drew his cane sword, SouSmith his pistol. Lord Vetas held up a single hand. Adamat froze. He watched in morbid fascination as Palagyi struggled against the strong hands of his own goon, the coal worker with the quick reflexes. Palagyi’s face turned purple, and the goon kept his garrote tight around Palagyi’s throat until long after the life was gone from him. Adamat lowered his cane sword.

Lord Vetas folded his hands back into his lap. “I’ve just taken over your loan from the late Palagyi. It’s in your interest to work for me now.”