Foreigner #07 - Destroyer by C. J. Cherryh

Author:C. J. Cherryh [Cherryh, C. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-11-05T04:48:30+00:00

“Driftwood lamps, nadi,” she said, “which sell quite well in Shejidan.”

“Who authorized you to have this truck?”

The wrong answer could damn the man and the whole village who’d helped them. Could cost lives.

“The council, nadi,” Jago said, “for a consideration. A fee for the wood and for the hire of the truck.”

“Papers,” the man said.

“Here,” Banichi said, and got out, a creaking of springs and the opening of the door.

Thump. That was the truck door on Jago’s side, and a second thump, as something hit the ground.

“Good move,” Banichi said, and one formed a picture of that truck door opening and bashing right into a man, perhaps a local security patrol, who’d gotten too inquisitive.

There was some to-do outside, a series of small movements.

“Best take him along,” Banichi said. “He may be local.” The logic in that was clear, that they wanted no blood on their ally’s hands, and the man who’d come afoul of two Assassins was still, courteously enough, alive.

Banichi came around to lower the tailgate, letting in daylight and a welcome waft of cool air.

“One regrets to report an inquisitive nuisance,” Banichi said,

“and a problem. We propose, nand’ dowager, to put the local constable aboard, and leave him where we leave the truck, for our ally’s sake, for peace in the district. We believe he is not Desigien village, but perhaps a neighbor from Cobo.”

“Do so,” Ilisidi said. “How far are we from the rail?”

“Not far, nand’ dowager. The train comes into the station just after dark, and will pick up the local railcar, which is our best hope. We are to leave the truck in its ordinary spot, which is by the depot north wall, where we can move safely after dark. After that the ride may be much cooler, nandiin, one regrets to say.” One formed a picture. The local car would carry fish. And ice.

Their unwanted passenger came to in the dark, blindfolded and gagged, and thumped around, kicking and protesting, until Cenedi’s men got hold of him.

“You will live, nadi,” Nawari’s voice said pleasantly in the dark. “Be patient. We mean no particular harm to you and we shall return the truck, the use of which we took.” A deal of muffled outcry, then. And a quick subsidence after.

Everyone had to be quiet. Cenedi had said that while their passenger was still unconscious. Particularly the dowager, the heir, and the stray human had to keep quiet, their voices being far too remarkable.

“The drug has taken effect,” Nawari said, “but we should not rely on it. It has its hazard, nandiin-ji.”

There was silence. So on they rolled, with one bound, gagged constable heavily sedated, from that store of small nastinesses the Assassins’ Guild sometimes used. Finesse, Banichi called it.

They maintained particular silence, as the truck rolled slowly over smooth, and therefore well-maintained, road, which indicated a populated, frequently-traveled region. It was probably a picturesque village they had come to. They were probably not in Desigien, but at Adaran, at the railhead, and the Desigien truck sitting still and waiting for the train was probably not that unlikely an evening event.

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