Chapter 14 - The Kraken Gate

People sitting on park benches conform to a general stereotype. An old man feeding birds, or a couple of businessman in earnest conversation would not have caused any disquiet. A young mother with a perambulator and infant, or a war-veteran pushing himself and his stumps along the ground on a trolley would not have troubled me much. A tramp, a young lady with suitor, or a workman with lunchbox, none of these would have caused me to look again. Whoever was heading up the operation, if that’s what it was, was an idiot. A muscle-bound apeman with tight-fitting gentleman’s attire just looks odd, especially when they’re pretending to read a map. The scene was about as wrong as a fox and a hen sharing a cup of tea, chatting jovially about the weather.

‘Is it true that you can’t take weapons through the gate?’ Banks was asking. Could this watcher be one of Benjamin’s men, or an associate of Banks’? I scanned the area again, but saw nothing else suspicious.

‘Weapons, yes,’ I answered. ‘Metal, no…well we think brass is safe.’ I decided to keep quiet about being spied on. Perhaps I would learn more by doing a little sleuthing of my own.

Banks sucked air through his teeth. ‘Draxil’s Sainted Teeth! No guns, no blades? What will you fight with?’

‘We’re working on that,’ I said. Well, it was sort of true. I’d been giving it some thought. I was going to speak with Na-Su. She was ingenious when it came to killing devices. I’d seen her turn wet paper into a bomb once. She dropped a large box full of rain-soaked daily papers from a bridge. It had been a very high bridge. The impetus of the payload had been enough to explosively disassemble a hansom cab and our target sitting inside it.

‘Well, I can’t say I envy your task,’ Banks said. ‘We’ll have the numbers to back you up, and it may be that we can spare a couple more if you’re short of people.’ I wasn’t sure what reaction he wanted from me. Lieutenant Scott looked troubled. Banks pulled out an expensive looking pocket watch and took note of the time. He nodded to himself. ‘Give it some thought, Ms. Derringer,’ he said. ‘Everything Director Harman has been working towards will be pointless if you can’t accomplish your mission. Anyway, you’ll have to excuse us, Ms. Derringer. We have a train to catch.’

I bade them a cool farewell. Banks donned his top hat and picked up his cane. All the while, I was trying to keep the man on the bench in view. He’d turned away from us now, and pulled his flat cap down over his eyes. Lieutenant Scott and his new Second Lieutenant set off towards the bench where Greatcoat Man was sitting. He folded his map and walked away before they passed his spot. Not working with them then. He’d have remained in place to exchange some signal.

I picked up my satchel. A quick check revealed that Lieutenant’s Scott and Banks were out of sight, so I moved into position behind the spy. Greatcoat Man was careful. He stopped a couple of times to check whether he was being followed. Also, he circled back on himself using the Nementide and Clinker Bridges to get a clear view ahead and behind. It was basic spy-craft, alright, but not top drawer. The second time, I used a pillar and a hot kracklenut stall to stay out of sight. My stomach growled at me, demanding a bag of honey-roasted nuts to compensate for lunch, which hadn’t happened. If I hadn’t been tailing someone, I would have queued up, instead I sheltered to one side of the stall and palmed a couple of throwing knives that I’d put in my satchel earlier. Meanwhile, the man I was tailing decided he was clean and moved off in the direction of the docks. 

I’d been expecting him to turn right, before the docks and into the Purple Quarter which was where Professor Renny’s clandestine meetings with his Nallian handler had taken place. Instead, he continued on through Blacksoul Gate and into the maritime hinterland of warehouses and chandleries where rubbish collected in the gutters, and ruts had been worn into the cobbles. A woman was very conspicuous here, especially one in decent clothing. It’s never a good idea to wear a dress, Connie! Whatever possessed you? Although the place was busy, there were few women about. Those that I could see were dressed in overalls and stank of fish. I neither looked nor smelled as though I’d spent the day with a gutting knife in hand.

Playing it safe, I slowed to allow Greatcoat Man to get a little further ahead, but I needed to stay sharp to avoid losing him in the crowd. A commotion on Great Vorpal Way made things difficult. Dozens of cannon were being hauled down to the docks, presumably bound for Ripolis. Horses whinnied and rolled their eyes, unhappy with the weight of the gun carriages, and the way their hooves clattered and slipped on the cobblestones. In spite of the ceaseless work of the artillerymen, the procession was perpetually on the brink of chaos.

Crossing the mayhem, my quarry disappeared into another thoroughfare. The last of the guns passed by me a moment later, so I also crossed and peered around the corner. This street was much quieter. The cobbles here were set with rusting tram lines that branched on both sides. Stacks of wooden barrels stood here and there. A toppled, rusting cart blocked one of the buildings. Opportunistic weeds sprouted where they could; out of broken brickwork, gutters and on an age-old pile of hessian sacking. There was a smell of damp decay and charred wood. Somewhere deeper in the tangle of sheds and gutting houses, a steam whistle warned of an engine at work.

My target slowed and redoubled his checks. His heightened vigilance told me that he was approaching his destination. Five paces later, greatcoat and wearer disappeared behind some crates. I was about to go in after him when my arm was caught in a vice-like grip.

’S'cuse me, missy! Are you lost?’ drawled the large man who had hold of me. The inquiry was curt, unwelcoming. His plaid suit was stained, holed at the elbows, smooth at the collar and frayed at the cuffs. His eyes were dark beneath a workman’s cap. He had a thick beard the colour of dead dog, out of which jutted an unlit pipe that stank of stale tobacco. It’s a source of perpetual astonishment to me that men in almost all walks of life manage to acquire girlfriends and wives.

A mechanic in grease-stained overalls passed by on the opposite side. It took a particular kind of bravo to interfere in a dockside dispute. I would have to extricate myself, and quickly, or the man I had trailed so carefully would get away. I smiled, adding a touch of desperation to my voice as I replied.

‘Oh, how kind!’ I clutched at his grabbing arm, making sure I touched his exposed wrist. ‘Yes, I am rather. Would you be able to point me in the direction of the harbourmaster’s office?’

‘The habourmaster?’ my captor’s voice scratched, teeth clenching his pipe into immobility.

‘That’s right. Oh, it’s dreadful sir. The council says the Corrosion is vanquished but it isn’t is it? I’m his sister… nursing his son. He must hurry home, you see, the condition has worsened.’ The pipe drooped and the man’s eyes flicked down to where I had hold of him. He shoved me hard and I stumbled to stay on my feet.

‘Get out of here!’ he growled and, turning on his heel, he marched off as fast as he could, wiping his wrist with a pocket handkerchief which he then angrily tossed aside. 

I hurried to the spot where I’d last seen Greatcoat Man. There were stacks of crates beside the little door and more barrels on the other side of the street. Dirty puddles stagnated where the cobblestones had been ripped up. No one in sight. Along from the crates was a set of sliding doors which were padlocked shut, but there was a small door further along. Above the door was a drab sign embossed with the prow of a ship, and the name ‘Armeda Shipping Bv’ wrapped around the edge. I got close enough to hear noises on the other side of the door. They dissuaded me from bursting through. I may have a fire in my belly, but I’m not an idiot. 

Just then, the door opened and two men emerged. They had the look of Caddrian mercenaries about them; dark, tight-fitting clothing, close-set eyes and an edginess that would put a cliff to shame. The Corrosion trick would not work on these two.

‘You dere,’ said the taller of the two. His face was thin, as though it had been squeezed in a vice. He had dark rings under his eyes and his nose was dripping onto the collar of his jacket. Had I been concerned about his welfare, I would have recommended he take a few days off work. ‘Whads your business here?’ he asked.

‘I’m looking for my brother. He started a job here yesterday.’ It’s safer to be a sibling. Colleagues and co-workers get to hear about wives, husbands and significant others, but brothers and sisters rarely get a mention.

‘Is dat so?’ Still the sick man. ‘His job prospecs wond be any bedder wid you hanging round his neck. Why dode you be a good liddle lady and wait for him back home, eh?’ It was phrased like a question, but wasn’t one. The patronising tone needled me almost as much as his refusal to blow his nose.

‘’What’s his name,’ said the shorter of the two. He was stocky and his cynical face was stubbled, a low, peaked cap jammed down to his eyebrows.

‘Arthur.’ A common enough name.

‘There’s no Arthur here, dearie.’

Damn! ’Really?’ I frowned. ‘Maybe he used his middle name.’

‘Or maybe you’re snooping!’

‘Det’s dake her inside.’ Drippy moved a step closer. ‘You know whad de boss is like. Doh way to predict all da quesjions he’s going’d ask us.’

‘S’right,’ said Cap-head. ‘He can ask her instead. Cut out the middlemen.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ I protested. ‘I’ll wait for my brother at his place.’

The two mercenaries made to grab hold of me. I stepped back, but they were quick and both got a hold of my arms. I was just about to escalate the hostilities, which would have made a bit of a mess, when I saw a honed shadow step in behind my attackers.

‘Arthur!’ I exclaimed. ‘Thank goodness you’re here, brother.’ Ankush stepped out from the shadows and into the appointed role smoothly. He even lost the Gulreimian accent which I wasn’t aware he could do. 

‘Dear sister, what in the name of Draxil’s Beard is going on here? Has there been some misunderstanding?’ The aristocratic accent was a delight.

Drip-face and Cap-head didn’t let go of me, which was their mistake, so that’s when things did get messy. I dropped for the floor, pulling the two mercs towards each other so they bounced shoulders. Drip-face let go but he was already off-balance so that Ankush’s kick to his head sent him into a back somersault that ended noisily on the cobbles. Meanwhile, I pulled away from the stocky one with the cap. Of course, he hauled on me which gave my kick at his knee that much more power. There was a satisfying crack followed by a high-pitched cry. He followed Cap-head to the ground. Boots! I knew they’d come in useful!

Ankush reached out a hand. I grasped it and was hauled to my feet. The man I’d taken down had got to his hands and knees and was reaching inside his coat. I kicked hard. His head jerked back as he rolled over and lay in the gutter. Ankush checked the tall one but the Gulreimian’s boot and the cobbles had been unkind to his head. He wasn’t going to come around any time soon.

‘What are you doing here, Ankush?’

‘The man watching our place trailed you to the station, then he followed you to the docks and waited there until you came back.’

‘What? And then my meeting with the other two?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you kept an eye on him the whole time!’

‘Yes, ma’am?’

I frowned at Ankush. He looked away, slightly embarrassed.

‘Nice work, Rah-Ankush. I didn’t see you at all. I must be getting rusty.’ Ankush seemed pleased. Gulreimians don’t trade compliments much. ‘Do you think we can get inside unnoticed?’ I asked, changing the subject.

Ankush looked doubtful.

‘No, neither do I. No telling whether there’s any cover in there.’

‘No windows either,’ Ankush pointed out.

‘Best we head back. We haven’t got time to hang around here. Maybe we can hire someone to stake this place out and send reports to us in Lannerville.’

‘And these two?’

I shrugged. ‘They look quite peaceful. Let’s go.’

We walked back to the main thoroughfare. I checked over my shoulder once and contented myself that the fracas was unlikely to have been observed.

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