A Clean Death is the fourth in the Tales of The Lesser Evil and this is the eleventh, penultimate, chapter.
This is a fantasy series—not quite grimdark, but dark nevertheless—with complicated and believable characters doing their best to survive in a world simply indifferent to their existence.
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A Winter Project
Pepper, Hedda and Menna sat together opposite the woman, who was carefully tied to an extremely solid chair. She had been unconscious for several chimes and the night was moving closer to morning. The chair was specifically chosen so there was no way she would be able to smash the furniture, it was too heavy for one person to move easily, let alone lift and break. Furniture was not usually the best way to secure someone, but Menna, who had suggested the chair, only used the very best quality—and the heaviest.
‘She’s awake,’ Pepper said.
‘How can you tell?’ asked Hedda. She could see no difference in the woman.
‘Look at her throat. Her pulse has slightly quickened. There! It slowed again as she gained control,’ Pepper laughed lightly. ‘Oh, you’re good. But not quite good enough.’
The woman in the chair smiled. She was not gagged, the room they were in was solid, utterly soundproof. She was, however, blindfolded, but Hedda had the impression she could tell exactly where they were and how many of them there were. The woman was very good.
‘Now,’ continued Pepper, standing and walking closer, ‘I’m going to ask a few questions and you are going to answer. Now, or later, I don’t really care.’
The smile never wavered.
‘First. Do you have a name? I like to know what to call people if I can.’
‘You can call me Pepper.’
Pepper laughed in reply.
‘Oh, can I? What a strange coincidence. Your accent marks you as from the Telkian coast, as did the fact you called to your rather giant associate in Telkian. However, your clothes say Youlmouth. Your style of fighting, as far as I can make out, comes straight from Greystilts or Tepamate, and your familiarity with who I am means you certainly have associates in Eastsea. I’d go as far as saying that’s where you are based, at least most recently.’
The smile was as fixed as the mountains, it neither wavered up nor down.
‘But,’ Pepper continued, swiftly leaning in and pulling off the blindfold, ‘These things are only a small amount of use. The question I am most interested in is, who are you working for? Why try to take me out of the game? I have a feeling it wasn’t simply because of Rinc the Fourth, or Ronne the Sawman, or any of the others. I think your boss wants me out of the picture, which means my friends here too. Which makes this suddenly personal. Now, I’m not keen on quick torture, it is messy and difficult to judge whether the questioned is just saying what they think you want to hear. Long, protracted torture, however, that can be considerably better and, of course, far worse for you.’
The woman flinched, barely. A small widening of her eyes and a drop of the smile, before it reappeared just as quickly.
‘Ah, you thought we’d be rushing back to Eastsea on the Southspray Maree? After you made things far more interesting here in the City of Masks? No, I think we can wait a few months for the tides to change once more and the winds to slow. Which means we’ll need a project to keep us occupied…’ Pepper stood and gestured with a flourish. ‘And you just danced into our lives. Thank you, so much.’
‘I will not talk. Not because I do not want to, but because I do not have anything of interest to say.’ The woman was unsure; she had not expected this.
‘Ah, but how do you know? I might be interested in what you ate for breakfast, or what your father told your mother all those years ago, in order to encourage her into the sheets. I think you will tell me all manner of interesting things.’
‘No. I won’t.’ The woman’s jaw raised, her lips clamped tightly. Her tied hands were fists and her gaze unwavering.
‘I know. We all say that. You know how it is. You might be less an assassin and more a warrior, but I do not doubt you have some personal experience in this field, takes one to know one.’ Pepper sat back down, her head forward, never breaking eye contact. ‘You can posture, you can try and convince yourself, but we both know that over the coming weeks and months—and don’t forget, you won’t see the sun or the sky at all, you’ll not know how long you have been here and that does strange things to the head, as does sleep deprivation—so, over the next few months you’ll slowly give up bits and pieces of information until you are desperate to please.’
‘Also, I should add something here, if I may. I have a friend, a friend who enjoys playing with plants.’ Menna said, ‘He has made some interesting discoveries with certain roots mixed with the dried leaves of the bluetongue fern. You’ll be fed and watered here, whether you want to eat or drink or not. And who knows what we may add? Sometimes, I hear, you can see things that may not actually exist. Sometimes they do exist and you refuse to believe it. When you ingest this plant combination you are never exactly yourself again.’
‘Interesting,’ Pepper said, ‘I’d be fascinated to meet this friend. It might be the beginning of a beautiful and lucrative sideline. Looking forward to it.’
‘I’ll set up a meeting. We’ll have to…’
‘Look, I cannot tell you anything of interest. I only know I was hired by a woman. The other man was sent with me and we met up with one other and the Abriki here in Youlmouth. I had no choice over my team. Someone does not want you in Eastsea so, if you stay here, torturing me, then they’ve got exactly what they want.’
Pepper said nothing for a time, looking from Hedda to Menna then back to their prisoner.
‘Very well. I shall have to piss on your boss’s party. We can leave her here with you and your plant-man, right? You’ll be handsomely paid, of course, and I’m sure others in this city would also be only too willing to throw a few coins your way, for some time with someone unsanctioned. The Point cannot be happy about this. We’ll return in the Spring and, if you are still capable of speech and haven’t chewed off your tongue by then, we’ll talk or, more correctly, I’ll ask, you’ll reply. You know you won’t be given a chance to take your own life, don’t think that will be possible, you won’t…’
The room grew dark for a moment, colder, as though light and heat were sucked out together. A crash sounded from somewhere above.
Then the door opened.
Later, when they sat with a bottle of brandy and talked over what had happened, both Hedda and Menna agreed with Pepper’s assessment of events, a fact she held close, ensuring her sanity was not too strained.
A shadow walked into the room. Short, shorter than Pepper, hooded and see-through. A ghost of sorts, perhaps. Pepper found she could only move her eyes, watch and listen and, from her frozen companions beside her, it appeared she was not alone.
The shade paused and looked at the woman strapped to the chair.
‘What should I do with you?’ The whisper was soft and melodious, as insubstantial as the shadow—a woman—herself. Pepper was sure it was a woman.
It was clear their captive was trying to scream, trying to move, but utterly unable.
‘I thought perhaps I would turn you inside out, make a warning, but I doubt these,’ she gestured to Pepper, Hedda and Menna, ‘would spread the word as I’d like. I could drain you of all liquids. It is remarkable how little can be left once all fluids are gone. Powder you, or maybe remove certain parts of your body. Instead, I think I shall simply take you with me. Good help is hard to find and you do have certain skills I will need again. I doubt you’ll let me down again, will you?’
She stood in front of the woman, who was still wide-eyed, terrified, unable to either nod or shake her head in agreement. Then the shadow turned to look Pepper in the eye, insubstantiality and the shadows of her hood hiding the details of her face.
‘I would love to kill you, Pepper. You are an annoyance I do not need now, but rules are rules and I cannot—or should not—raise a finger against you myself, not in this way, at least. As much as I’d like to break the rules, they are there for a reason. I suppose I could free Zhilli here and let her finish you all. But, although I’m sure she’d enjoy that, it does not seem to be sporting at all and some may argue is bending those rules too much. I do not need my plans to be stopped, unravelled, so best not give them any possible thread to tug. No.’
She turned back to the woman, Zhilli, whose eyes were still wide, unsure whether to be grateful she was not going to be tortured or turned inside out, or whether her fate might be even worse.
‘Let’s go, Zhilli, we have some talking to do. You’ve failed me now, after all. You will live, however, I’m not a complete monster,’ she laughed, turning back to Pepper and the others, hood slipping back slightly, flashing bright teeth, almost as though she expected them to laugh with her.
Pepper could still only move her eyes, strain as she might. She concentrated on the teeth, tried to avoid looking through them to the wall beyond, memorising the shape of each one, the tip of a small nose and the line of jaw she could just make out. Details, tiny details. The hood fell back completely and the woman’s face became clear.
Then the shadow became all she could see, covering the room in twisting, smoke-like mist.
‘Fuck! What the fuck just happened?’ Hedda gasped.
The woman they had captured was gone, her bonds left tied in mockery at her disappearance. The shadow-woman had also vanished.
‘I have no idea.’ Pepper replied. She looked from Hedda to Menna and caught the expression on his face. ‘Menna?’
‘There are stories,’ he stopped, reached inside his coat and pulled out a narrow flask, taking a long drink, before standing and offering it to Pepper and Hedda. Both drank deeply. ‘There are stories. It is a subject I know little about, no one does— true magics—not the tricks and powders and deceit so many wizards employ, but magics that can do the impossible, like heal a wound that would kill, lift vast weights, or,’ he gestured, ‘make people vanish.’ He accepted the flask from Hedda and took another drink, before adding, ‘Come, there’s something you should see. It is a subject I may know little about, but it is also a subject I know more than most.’
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