B.T.V. -- Session 12 Prelude: There's Got to Be a Mourning After

“Can you not?”

“I can’t if you can’t?”

“Veitch.”

“That’s uncalled for! I was only trying to help.”

“Somethings don’t need helping. Me getting rid of this body is one of them. I know what I’m doing.”

The two Yendi body-snatchers glared at each other. Between them a dead draegeran lay in the lane’s gutter. He was better dressed than the two Yendi were. His clothes were expensive, his boots made of finely-tooled leathers, his scabbard an ornate and valuable lacquered thing that covered the hilt as well as the blade, in the western fashion. Men who had no need to draw their swords on the spur of the moment were men who had no need to be afraid of surprise attacks. Only a powerful draegeran would wear something like an oxymoronic weapon. He'd died for his confidence in the streets of Adilankha. The two Yendi knew only that the slayer was a sorcerer and that he paid well and that he awaited the body.

The Yendi who had suggested he didn’t need help, used a long steel bar to remove the culvert grate before him. The other Yendi who was large for a draegeran just stood watching. His fists unclenched and clenched as he watched the smaller man struggle to slide the grate away from the culvert’s opening.

With a final exertion, the grate came up and slid along the cobbles a few feet away.

“Su, now you can dump it and quick.”

“Right.” Said the larger Yendi, “Before the wardens show.”

“Heh, su and we make our way down to where the culvert empties. Then we take it on the boat to the island. We’ll have privacy there.”

“Until the sorcerer arrives.”

“Obviously.”

“I get half.”

“Su-su, you get half.”

“Not like last time.”

“I told you there were expenses.”

“But not this time.”

“Well, there’s the culvert fees to be paid and the cost of the steel pry bar.”

“I could have lifted the grate without the bar. I don’t think I should have to pay for it.”

“We split all prices equally. That means in half. Now the culv –”





Deahert Najjalume never finished listing the costs of culvert fees levied by the city’s sewerage guild. He died instantly when a force struck out of the culvert’s yawning opening. Bok Kalachamakihuy, the larger Yendi, stood dumbly staring at the mash that had been his partner’s head. The blow wasn’t attached to a powerful arm. It was as though an invisible, blunt object, haunted into animation by a vengeful spirit, had destroyed the Yendi’s face.

Bok lost his apprehension and shouted for help. Twice. Then a feminine voice came from the culvert.

“The body will still be dead, Bok, as will your friend be, even if you bring every guard from here to the sea. Hear the knell of the crematorium bell? They’ll be flying here fast. You need to go. If they find you, you will be charged with snatching and worse.”

“Yes – I mean, no… I should go but Deahert…”

“Is dead.”

“Why did you kill him?”

“Because he was holding you back, Bok.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I need a strong draegeran to help me.”

“You’re not a draegeren then?”

“And Deahert said you weren’t smart.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“Deahert used to.”

“So, nobody says then.”

“Very good! You’re right, I can’t disagree with that.”

Bok smiled then changed his mind and laughed.

“You’ll help me then, Bok?”

“If it pays to.”

“Three orbs a day.”

“N’las, I want twelve imps or it’s no.”

"Three orbs are more than twelve imps, Bok.”

“Heh, I knew it. I wanted to see if you would cheat me!”

“You’re too quick for me. Glad I was honest with you.”

“Alright, I will help you. Three orbs now though. I need to see your money.”

“It’s there. On the stones beside your left foot.”

“It is! How’d you get it there without showing yourself? Invisible?”

“Why not?”

“Isn’t that wasteful?”

“No, as the wardens’ bird will be here soon, I thought it best to remain unseen.”

“Well, it’s working still. I can’t see you at all.”

“That’s because you don’t know what you’re looking for.”

“I’m not blind.”

“It’s why nobody sees me, Bok. I didn’t mean just you.”

“Su, okay then.”


"Now, get to the riverbank, grab the boat and get the body to the island as planned. Once you’re there, you can free me properly –”

“Properly?”

“When the body fell into the culvert shaft, my prison broke just a little.”

“I didn’t like being in prison. Ironhook can rot.”

“I knew I liked you. We’re kindred spirits, Bok.”

“Thanks.”

“Once on the island, you’ll get me from my prison and then – ”

“—And then?”

“Then you and I are going to see what Adrilankha is made of.”

“How will we do that? I don’t think I’ll be much help.”

“You’re smarter than that, Bok. Look, I’d say I can’t contemplate finding out without you.”

“How’d you learn my name?”

“I heard Deahert using it.”

“From the culvert.”

“Well, yes I’m somewhat near it anyway. A little deeper than the culvert, if we’re being open with each other.”

“I think you’re being very fair with me. Deahert never told me things without hiding more things.”

“Why would I hide things from you, Bok? I’m no use without you.”

“What’s your name?”

“People call me, Mournblade, Bok.”

“That’s a serious name. I like it. It sounds like you’re a really skilled snatcher.”

“Something very much like one, Bok. Hurry now, the wardens will find you before you’ve reached the island. That won’t do. Once we’re there I will let you see me and then we can begin.”

“Sounds important.”

“Very. We'll start with the sorcerer who's meeting you there. Then you’ll see.”