Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

there, protruding from the brickwork. No one could figure out how to remove him without tearing the wall apart. Luckily he was dead, so they just draped a cloth across his face to hide the staring eyes and contorted mouth, and pretended he wasn't there.
    And one man fell out of midair and slammed to the floor in a sticky mess of spurting blood and exposed organs. His journey had turned him inside out.
    Horribly, he wouldn't die. In the end, Donald Royal cut off the head with one merciful stroke of his sword.
    The Council members and the esper union reps struggled to put some kind of planned defenses together, but things were happening so quickly all the time that all they could really do was react to the Empire's actions and provide damage limitations. Raised voices were getting hoarse, and tiredness showed in everybody's eyes. Cyder kept hot coffee and mulled ale moving among everyone in the room, and supplied a steady stream of information from her own network of
    informers, people she used to work with in the past, before she became respectable. She tried not to worry about what had happened to Cat. And overhead, the roar of passing gravity barges shook the inn like thunder, never knowing how close they'd come to the heart of rebel resistance.
    Kast and Morgan dragged their prisoner through the chaos and fury of battle to see Investigator Razor, as he stood thoughtfully in the rubble of what had been the northeast boundary, watching his troops press deeper into the burning city, sweeping aside all opposition. He waited till the marines and their captive were almost upon him before turning and acknowledging their existence. His dark face was calm as ever, but there was a hot and brutal fire in his eyes that made even Kast and Morgan nervous. They bowed quickly to the Investigator, and hit their prisoner till he did, too. Razor studied the man in silence for a long moment.
    The prisoner dressed well, though his fine clothing was currently rumpled and torn and stained with his own blood. His face was bruised and battered. It seemed that Kast and Morgan had not been gentle in persuading him to come along with them.
    "And this is?" Razor said finally.
    "A traitor and informer, sir," said Kast cheerfully. "Name of Artemis Daley.
    Something of a mover and shaker in Mistport, if he's to be believed. He's promised us useful, not to say vital, information if we'll just avoid destroying the properties here he has interests in. He's even volunteered to give us a map showing those properties. Isn't that helpful of him? Under a certain amount of pressure, he also volunteered to draw us another map, showing exactly where the city Council is currently hiding out. In return for his life and continued well-being. So we brought him to you, sir. If he is who he says he is, and knows
    what he says he does, he could be very valuable. And if you were to see your way clear to giving my friend and me recommendations on the strength of that, sir, or even a raise in rank, well, we were just doing our duty."
    "But we'll still take the raise," said Morgan. "Or any medals, if they're going."
    "You have done well," said Razor. "Now be silent." He smiled slowly at the prisoner, who if anything seemed even less reassured than before. Razor stepped closer, studying the man's face. "I know you, Artemis Daley. You're in our files. A deal-maker, money-lender, and legbreaker, as necessary. Medium-sized fish in a very small pond. You've sold us the odd bit of information in the past. Nothing terribly important, but enough to make you as one of ours. Talk to me, Artemis. Tell me where my enemies are."
    "We… have yet to agree on a price, your honor," said Daley, trying hard to keep his voice steady. "I am, after all, just an honest businessman, trying to make a profit in difficult times. I have no interest in wars. But a man in my position can't afford to just give away valuable information. Word would get out. My reputation would be ruined. You understand, I'm sure."
    "Quite," said Razor. He looked at Kast. "Kill him."
    "Wait! Wait!" Daley tried to back away, but Kast and Morgan held him firmly.
    They forced him down onto his knees. Daley shook so hard that drops of sweat fell off his face. "Wait, your honor! Allow me to… give you a little something, as a sign of good faith. The Council can be found at the Blackthorn Inn, in Thieves Quarter." He looked anxiously at Razor. "I'd be happy to draw you a map, your honor, showing exactly how to get there,