Chương 42: Chapter 41: Interrogations and Intent

Jack and two guards reached the merchant house just up the street. One carried the sealed cargo. The other dragged their prisoner. Jack handled the business dealings with practiced ease, moving through them quickly and without ceremony. Before the conversation could drift anywhere unnecessary, he cut it off cleanly.

"Sir," Jack said, "as you can tell, my employee was gravely injured while securing this payment for you. I need him off the streets and somewhere safe where he can be treated." The merchant looked between the bound thief and the pale, bleeding young man. His expression tightened. Jack could tell he wanted nothing to do with this arrangement.

"I have a business to run," he said carefully, clearly eager not to be dragged into the situation. Jack produced a pouch from his satchel and set it in the man's hand. The weight alone was enough to tell the story.

"I understand completely," Jack said.

"Consider it a short-term rental. A couple of hours." The merchant's eyes widened as he opened the pouch. The amount was more than sufficient.

"I… yes. That would be acceptable," he said quickly.

"Come inside. Quickly." The building was simple and orderly. A handful of clerks worked at desks, drafting orders and counting coin.

"We're done for the day," the merchant barked.

"All of you. Out." There were confused looks, but no arguments. Within moments, the building was empty. Jack directed the guards to lay Warren across a wide table. The young man was ghostly pale, sweat soaking through his clothes. The short walk had taken more from him than Jack liked. Jack raised a hand, stopping the merchant before he could follow them out.

"You live upstairs," Jack said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," the merchant replied, uneasy.

"Good. I've sent for aid, but I don't know how long it will take. I need hot water and clean dressings. I'll pay for them."

"There's no need," the merchant said quickly.

"You've already paid more than enough. This is… partly my fault. You were delivering my payment." He didn't wait for a response and disappeared out the back. Jack turned to the guards.

"Ungag him," he said.

"We don't have much time." The guard moved to comply, but Jack stopped him with a raised hand. Jack crouched and drew his sword, resting the flat of the blade across the thief's shoulder as he knelt, bound. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"My friend here is about to remove your gag," Jack said evenly.

"You should listen very carefully to what comes next. Do you understand?" The man nodded, and the gag was pulled free.

"Who do you work for?" Jack asked.

"A thieves' guild," the man said quickly.

"That's all I can say."

"I saw the tattoo. It won't be hard to narrow it down," Jack said while the man gulped audibly.

"What I want to know is who you work for."

"I can't," the man said, panic creeping into his voice.

"He'll kill me."

"If you don't tell me," Jack said calmly, "I'll kill you." His guards stiffened.

"N-no you won't," the thief stammered.

"Your captain said it himself. You work for the city and the Watch. You can't—""His name is Aldric," Jack corrected.

"And you misheard him. We're sanctioned. That means contracted. We don't have to play by their rules." Jack leaned closer.

"And who's to say you didn't die in the scuffle? It was self-defense. It wouldn't take much to put you back up there on that roof."

"You can't," he stammered.

"I can," Jack said.

"And I will." A breathy wheeze came from Warren, and he slipped into unconsciousness. Jack noticed it from his periphery, and it concerned him, but he didn't look away from the thief. He needed to finish this quickly.

"You hurt my companion," he said quietly.

"I can't forgive that. But if you cooperate, the worst that happens is the Watch takes you away. You get to live."

"I didn't shoot him," the man blurted.

"That was Frank." Jack silenced him with a look that said the details didn't matter. The part he played couldn't be explained away.

"I won't tell you his name," the thief continued.

"But I know who he works for. He doesn't know I know."

"Who?"

"I overheard him talking. There's a man who calls himself Saint. He ordered the theft."

"A nickname isn't enough," Jack said, gripping the man's collar and hauling him just far enough off the floor that his knees dangled uselessly.

"Try again."

"That's all I know," he cried.

"I swear."

"Not good enough."

"Then just kill me," the thief said, slumping.

"He'll do it anyway. At least you'd be quick." Jack studied him for a long moment.

"Then tell me one more thing," Jack said, "and maybe I will grant your request." The man swallowed at the threat.

"The package wasn't the real target," the thief said.

"Breakwater was. Our guild master bragged that if you waited long enough to take the bait, he could make the job pay twice as much." Jack nodded and lowered him back to the floor.

"Take him to the others," Jack said.

"Get him out of my sight."

"You're… not going to kill me?" the thief asked, hope flickering.

"No," Jack said with a thin smile.

"The Watch frowns on that sort of thing." The gag went back in. The guard hauled him away just as the merchant returned, carrying cloth, hot water, and a small red vial.

"I brought what you asked for," he said.

"And this." A healing potion. Jack had never seen one, but he knew they were expensive and hard to come by. It was likely this was from the man's own personal stash. Jack's respect for the man rose immediately.

"I won't charge full price," the merchant said.

"Just my cost. Five hundred gold."

"Deal," Jack said without hesitation. He would have gladly paid full price to save one of his people. He administered the potion. Warren's breathing steadied almost immediately.

"You may have just saved his life," Jack said, bowing once more to the shopkeep.

"You've earned a favor from Breakwater Holdings. And you have my respect." The shop owner nodded in return before leaving them alone. Jack removed the bloody scraps of his tunic and cleaned the blood around the wound. He redressed it with clean cloth, careful not to disturb the arrow. He'd seen enough battlefield injuries to know better than to remove it. Half an hour later, Aldric burst in with Kael close behind.

Kael went to work immediately, magic flaring softly as he stabilized the wound, removed the arrow, and cast two more spells in quick succession before collapsing into a chair.

"He'll live," Kael said, exhausted.

"It was close. He'll need more healing later, but the worst has passed." Jack let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Good." He turned to Aldric.

"I have more questions than answers," Jack said.

"But I know our next stop."

"Aye."

"It's time we spoke to our customer again."