Thanks to all who add and to my reviewers: ToRestOrRange, Wraithangel71, Hobbitpony1, Kaiya's Watergarden, 0x0UnderDog0x0, Wynni, Ambray, Irishmadhatter3, weliann, IceCoffee00, Vanafindiel, killthepain62, Skywolf42, Fantasylover101, Waca, Faylene Fortune, Punky Warhammer, Alice Helena, the guest, and dragynfyre18!
Thanks to Dwarrow Scholar for the Khuzdul. I have applied it as I see fit with little regard to linguistic correctness.
uthrab: thief
Chapter 25 –– Unexpected Danger
Hemery leant forward with her elbows on her knees, rubbing her face tiredly with a groan.
"You know this character?" Thorin guessed.
"Unfortunately." She glanced up at him. "Remember the rogue types I ran into in Lake Town? They work for the butcher. It's my impression that he is . . . not nice."
"The crime lords are a disease," Kíli huffed. "They've been left to their own devices for too long, and now their hold on the city is that much greater."
Hem bit at her dry lip, distractedly. "I must return at once, before he smells his own rats––if he hasn't already." She got up and headed for the door.
"Kíli," Thorin said. "You will accompany Miss Hemery."
Hem halted. "There's no need. I said I'd be careful."
"It's not just that," he said. "This is now a state matter. Kíli will be my representative and protect Erebor's interests in Esgaroth."
"Aye, Uncle." Kíli nodded in affirmation and left, probably to make preparations to leave.
Hemery lingered, mulling this over a moment. She knew he did not mean to stifle her on purpose. In his place, she would probably do the same, trying to control the situation by any means. Hem just happened to be on the wrong side of this particular dispute.
"I'll try to keep things civil between them in Lake Town, but are you sure you're not sendin' Kíli to bully Bain into handin' over authority in the matter to you?"
"His time is up," Thorin settled tersely. "Clearly, he cannot handle it."
"It's only been a few days. If you give him more time––"
"Kíli is right. Bain allowed the infestation to grow. He's lost control of the city. This incident with the black powder is merely a symptom."
She guessed that what she really had meant was to give her more time. It did not only feel like he was about to strong-arm Bain out of the matter but also her, as well. If Kíli came to meddle, she would not be allowed to work as freely as she had been hitherto.
"It could be suggested," she said carefully, "that would mean I will also be reined in."
"Nothing of the sort," Thorin dismissed, frowning. "If anything, Kíli's presence will aid you. He will support you in all endeavours, more so than any sailor or fisherman down in Lake Town. You know this."
"They are not my endeavours now––they're Bain's," she reminded him.
"All you do is your own undertaking," he maintained. "You should have him wrapped around your finger by now."
She bristled at that but spoke calmly.
"You make it sound as though I manipulate people."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "You have remarkable skills of persuasion."
"So perhaps you didn't think it all bad I went to work for Bain––if it meant I'd use my skills on him?" she asked.
He was clever. He must have thought about it. She would bring her Ereborean mind-set with her to Esgaroth, which could only bring good things to Thorin.
"I never wished for you to go anywhere," Thorin protested. The statement made it sound like he was speaking of more than her departure to Esgaroth. "However, as barbaric a state Lake Town is in at the moment, your influence can be nothing but beneficial for Bain's court. Even I can see the reward for us all by extension. I'm not so callous as to deny them a chance to survive, to keep their civility alive. I just wish it was on someone else's expense."
Hemery was glad to learn that Thorin would not let his dislike for Bain hurt Esgaroth, that he still wanted things to work out for its people. Sooner rather than later. And no matter how much they both wished she did not have to fulfil her duty toward Bain, it was in everyone's best interest that she did. And Thorin obviously thought Kíli would help speed things along.
"Kíli will go with you," he insisted. "Think of him as an ally, not an adversary."
Hem nodded. "You must do what you think is best, Sire," she said, resigned, and turned to leave.
"Hem," he called out, roughly as always when he raised his voice.
She stopped by the door.
"Remember your promise."
The butcher was not there. Of course he was not. Why would he be where he was supposed to?
The evening of Hemery's and Kíli's arrival in Esgaroth, Bain had sent guards to the place Beren claimed to have met him once before––a great storage room behind a brewery in the northern part of Esgaroth––but it had been empty. And the house turned out to belong to someone else entirely who claimed to have no knowledge of the butcher or Beren.
In any case, Beren's meeting had taken place weeks ago. By now, the one they called the butcher was in the wind.
"Somebody must know his name," Bain exclaimed, frustrated, glaring at his lieutenants. All night and all next day had been spent trying to track down the butcher. "None of your informants are sympathetic to our cause? None are willing to give up his name or his hiding place?"
"Not that sympathetic, I'm afraid," his captain replied, regretfully.
Kíli spoke up from his seat to the side where he reclined leisurely with his feet crossed at the ankles. "What about your friend, Hem?"
All turned their attention to him.
"She seems like the sort to get around all strata of society without difficulty," he commented.
Hem saw what he was getting at. He wanted her to assign Lida to the task, unleashing her like a bloodhound to sniff out the butcher. Hem did not like that idea. Lida was already one of the butcher's undesirables. It was dangerous.
"Well, yes, but I––"
"Is she familiar with the butcher?" Bain asked.
"Yes, but I believe plenty are aware of his reputation besides her––"
"Has she encountered him personally?"
"I don't know, but she's had . . . altercations with his lackeys. Unpleasant ones."
"We could at least ask her if she knows how to locate any of them," Kíli suggested casually.
Hem regarded him thoughtfully, twirling her ring. She supposed there was no harm in it as long as Lida was not exposed.
"Very well," she said. "I'll talk to her. But she'll not be bait in any scheme," she warned.
Kíli put his hands up in a placating manner but said nothing to refute the notion.
Hem felt bad for even suggesting that Lida should be involved further with anything to do with the butcher. Lida listened quietly as Hemery explained their situation, giving no sign as to being either for or against helping them.
Hemery, Lida, and Kíli sat in Hemery's chamber at The Galley. Well, Hem and Kíli sat; Lida remained standing by the door.
"Again, I don't mean for you to contact any of them. I'm just askin' if you know anythin' that can help us find him?" Hem finished.
Lida seemed full of thought for a moment, gazing out the window, before answering.
"It's true what you say," she said. "He's not out much. I've never met him. Any run-ins I've had with his boys have been in the street or at the back of taverns or shops while the landlord looks away. No one knows him, but all fear him."
Hem remembered other masters who fit that description, and her stomach turned. Lida went on.
"If you're looking for someone to roll on the butcher, I can show you no place where you'll find what you seek," she said through tense jaws, clearly unhappy about it.
"But you must know something," Kíli insisted. "You must know which spots that are more dangerous than others or which territory is his."
"That would cover half the city," Lida replied.
"He's that influential?" Hem asked, baffled. "Why didn't you tell me this when the treasury was robbed?" The butcher's crew could have been included as suspects a lot sooner if she had.
"You didn't ask," Lida said simply. "But, yes, he's been more powerful than Lord Bain for at least ten years."
Kíli clapped Hem forcefully on the shoulder. "Well done, Hem," he said with amused sarcasm. "You've managed to find the one thief in the city who doesn't have anything to do with the butcher and is, therefore, not of use."
Hem glared at him, but he just smiled. She turned back to Lida.
"What does he do? What's his main business?"
Hem wanted to get a sense of what kind of network he had––what kind of man they were dealing with.
"Pleasure houses, smuggling, money lending, theft, extortion . . ." Lida shrugged. "I don't know what else."
"That's a good start, though," Hem said. "Bain's people will have to look into the pleasure houses––there's only a handful of those in the city."
"Selling warm bodies is no crime," Kíli reminded her.
"No, but if they pay for the butcher's protection––as he has been known to demand, correct?" She looked for confirmation at Lida who nodded. "Then their books will tell," Hem concluded.
"They'll not appreciate the scrutiny or the insinuation," Kíli said.
"And Bain certainly doesn't appreciate respectable establishments conductin' business with violent criminals," Hem countered chilly. "If they've nothin' to hide, they should have no problem accommodating their lord."
"Who's the totalitarian now? You sound like Uncle on a bad day." He smirked.
She was sure he merely jested, but Hem's fists clenched involuntarily anyway. She cast him a pointed look and took a breath.
"I'm just sayin' that I'm sure they'll understand," she said through her teeth.
Lida interrupted their staring contest.
"Then you'd like this, as well," she said, bringing forth a wrinkled piece of paper.
Hem took it. There were names on it in blotted ink––people, streets, taverns.
"It's what you asked for last time," Lida explained.
Right, the gambling hubs frequented by dwarves. Indeed, this could come in handy.
"Thank you. You may leave now," Hem said. "Oh––before you go . . ."
Remembering she still owed Lida money, she stood and brought out her purse. Stopping by the door, she put fifteen silver coins in Lida's open palm.
Lida's eyes sparked as she looked up, closing her fist tightly. "Much obliged to you, Miss."
She lowered her chin in a short bow of the head before disappearing.
"Don't do that again," Hemery told Kíli after Lida had gone.
"Do what?"
"Mock her like you did just now."
Kíli lifted his palms in an earnest gesture––earnest but unapologetic.
"She's a thief," he said in way of excuse. "She receives respect when she has earned it."
"She helped me find out about Beren. That must count for somethin'."
Kíli looked unimpressed. "You obviously paid for any generosity she has shown you. Fifteen pieces of silver in exchange for directions? Steep fee if you ask me––"
Hem's eyebrows rose. "I didn't."
"And definitely not deserving of my respect," he added, ignoring her comment.
"When she's a guest in my quarters, bidden to appear by me, I'll decide how she's treated."
Kíli shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly and looked away. "Fine. But I'd like to add that, strictly speaking, I mocked you, not her."
Hem punched him lightly in the shoulder at that. He could easily have avoided it, of course, but instead he cowered like a little boy.
"A-ah! We've talked about this," he complained. "You can't keep hitting me."
"Then stop actin' like a spoiled bloody dwarf prince."
Kíli shook his head indignantly. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean by that."
"C'mon," Hem said while putting on her coat. "Time to put Bain's people to work. That should keep you busy, yeah?"
"Can I order them about?" He brightened at the prospect.
"No, but you can sit by comfortably and drink Bain's wine as his soldiers do the legwork," she cajoled.
"Fine." He sighed in feigned annoyance but followed her swiftly. "You're not going with them?"
"I should aim to be discreet and show my face as little as possible. Definitely not traipse about brothels and stir up a commotion with Bain's soldiers."
"Hang on," Kíli said suddenly, as if struck by inspiration, and tapped her on the shoulder repeatedly until she looked at him. "If they're going to the pleasure houses, I should go with them. You know, to make sure the investigation is conducted thoroughly."
Hem narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious. "How thorough is that? Raidin' every room and interrogatin' every lass in the house?"
Kíli leered at some internal fantasy, gazing into space. "Thorough enough."
"You know what?" Hem said, shaking her head. "I don't want to hear it. I don't even care as long as you bring me those books."
She got them. Within three hours, massive ledgers occupied the table of Hemery's study at the courthouse. Though it was evening, the sun having set a while ago, she got straight to work, going through the last year in incoming and outgoing sums.
Sometime after midnight, Hem's eyes stung with fatigue from working in the low-burning candles in the room, and her shoulders stung from leaning over the table.
She wanted to slap whoever thought this paperwork was any way to run a business. How was Bain supposed to know how much each house owed in tax unless their papers were in order? They should be fined for sloppy handwriting if nothing else.
However, Hem had found some inconsistencies at three establishments, which should be investigated further. Once or twice a week, on different days in different houses, there was no documented income. Hemery guessed that it was either due to the working girls having free days and therefore not bringing in any coin, which seemed odd––all being free at once––or the income was not documented because the coin from that day went elsewhere. Perhaps it went to an outside party, perhaps to pay someone for protection––someone like the butcher.
Hemery decided to call it a night at that. She reported her findings to Bain's captain on duty and left the courthouse to get some sleep at The Galley.
She was not allowed to rest for long. She woke to a cold sweat and the forceful tattoo of her heart as she tried to disperse the sensation of water in her lungs and a giant crushing snake around her body. She had dreamt about this before, she knew. But sometimes it got worse. This was one of those nights.
Instead of going back to sleep, she draped a blanket around herself and sat at the window looking out at the few flickering lights of the city through the thick glass. There was a full moon tonight, shining on the fog hovering over the house roofs. A bewitched spring night.
Hem flinched at the sudden knock on the door.
Pulling a dagger from under her pillow, she approached the door.
"What is it?"
"Miss," Raín answered. "The uthrab is here to see you. Says it's urgent."
In the middle of the night?
Hem opened a crack in the door. Sure enough, behind Raín's forbidding arm stood Lida. Her eyes were as keen as always despite the late hour.
"Come in," Hem said, opening the door fully. Both Raín and Lida stepped through, and Hem closed the door.
Lida glanced at Raín, but Hem prompted her to speak.
"What's this urgent business that cannot wait until mornin'?
"I found him," Lida said.
Hem felt her hands go cold. She hardly dared believe it.
"The butcher?" she whispered, as if someone might overhear.
Lida lowered her chin in assertion. "An old storehouse in the Ashes. It's where they keep goods waiting to be sold or shipped, and . . . I think he's there right now, but not for long."
Hem shared a look with Raín who looked sceptical, or perhaps just worried, with her tense brow.
"How do you know it's him?" Hem asked Lida.
"I heard the men talking to one of them as if he's their master."
"You followed them?" Hem sighed. "I told you not to involve yourself––"
"What does it matter?" Lida interrupted, ignoring Hem's rebuke. "We need to go there right now, before he leaves."
Hemery's mind raced. She needed to alert Bain. And Kíli who was staying at The Crown. Not for the first time today, she cursed the spoiled dwarf prince. Why could he not stay here with her if it was so bloody important for him to accompany her to Esgaroth in the first place?
No matter. She had to go at once.
"Raín," Hem began. "Go send two of the Wolves with this information––one to Bain and one to Kíli. Then come back here. I'll just dress, and then we'll go see about this storehouse."
Raín met her eye with hard-set features, frowning, but eventually nodding. "Aye, Miss."
Lida gave Raín exact directions and then waited by the back stairs as Hemery dressed. Hem made sure to bring all her knives though she knew her guards would be fully armed. Once more she wore her trousers and tunic beneath her long coat rather than a dress. Who knew what could happen if they found where the real butcher was hiding out?
The clear sky made it a cold night as well as a beautiful one. Hem pulled up her hood to protect against its chill. Similarly to last time, Lida led Hemery, Raín and three Iron wolves through narrowing streets and taller houses until Hem lost all sense of direction. Thankfully, the moon helped with finding north and south.
Suddenly, Lida slowed down and circled a large structure until she stopped, glancing furtively around the corner. Then she pulled back, looking at Hem and pointed onward.
"There," she said, slowly moving forward.
The others followed. They could see a light from within the storehouse. By a window, they could hear hushed, agitated voices but sadly no words.
A daring glance through the glass told Hem there were at least four people inside. She recognised one as the lad she and Lida encountered before––Petir. Chances were good that Lida was right about this being the butcher's storehouse, Hem estimated.
The street was quiet and the neighbourhood calm as she looked around. They needed to know who else was inside, but Hemery and her guards were not prepared to handle an unknown number of arrests. She did not have Bain and his soldiers' authority. She needed to wait for him, or his captain, to come to them before they could decide what should be done.
Besides, Hemery would rather stay as far away from the butcher as possible if she could.
A seagull cried overhead. Hem looked up, startled.
Something brushed by her leg. She froze, looking down. A cat had run across her feet. It was too dark to see it properly, but she heard its fading warning moan in the alley to her left.
She took a deep breath, fighting a wave of nausea. Had she been here before?
Hem looked around again. They should not be here. But the street was still calm.
"Let's pull back and wait for enforcements," Raín recommended in a low voice.
Hem nodded. "Aye," she said softly, her mouth dry and numb. "Let's."
Lida, however, had not heard them. She crept closer, looking around the corner. Hem caught up with her but did not have time to speak before she saw the great black door on the other side.
It was so much like the door from her dreams––the door that was to be shattered by a great beast. But the beast was made up. She had made it up. It was not real.
Focus, Hem told herself. They needed to go.
"Lida, let's go," Hem whispered.
"Wait, I can hear them better from here." She carefully moved closer to the door.
"Come away," Hem hissed. What if the people inside heard them?
A scent disturbed Hemery's nose. A sharp smell of food gone bad. The Ashes always held a distinct aura of waste, but this triggered a fear in Hem.
"If I can just––" Lida leaned closer, grasped the handle, and pressed her ear to the door.
Was it rotten eggs Hem smelled? No, she realised; it was black powder.
"No!" She reached out to pull Lida back.
The world lit up in a flash and turned on its head as a great boom echoed in the air, in her head, in her belly, in her heart.
In the next instance, she fell on her back, hard, the wind knocked out of her. Something cracked in her chest, but she did not know what because her whole torso hurt. She could not draw air. It was like in her dreams where she was under water, where her lungs were crushed as if the great snake coiled around her and squeezed the life out of her.
Her head hurt from where it hit the ground. Her ears rang. Her eyes saw stars. Not real stars, but dancing bubbles of light, changing colours and slowly fading in front of her eyes.