Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

a sulk into full-blown gloom, while Rose amused herself by staring out the local bravos. Kramer strode up to their table and glared down at them.
    “I told Gil we couldn’t trust you,” he said flatly. “I knew you’d go scuttling off, the moment we turned our backs. What have you been doing, trying to find one of Finn’s spies, so you could sell us out?”
    “Go away,” said Brett. “I hate this place, and I hate you. What use is there in being a con man in a place where everybody knows all the cons? Where pickpockets have their own union? God, I’m depressed, and this cider isn’t helping. Someone here told me they drop a dead rat into every barrel to help the stuff ferment further, and to give the booze a little body, and I am completely prepared to believe them. I just know something appalling’s going to appear on my toothbrush tonight.”
    “You’re a disgrace,” said Kramer, sounding almost satisfied. “Let’s see if Gil can maintain his faith in the false Deathstalker, after he hears what the man’s companions have been doing. Now, are you going to come along with me voluntarily, or am I going to have to have you dragged? Guess which I’d prefer.”
    “I can’t be bothered with this,” said Brett morosely. “Rose, you deal with him.”
    “Sure,” said Rose, and she surged to her feet, drew her sword, and cut off Kramer’s head in one swift movement. The body just stood there for a moment, fountaining blood from the neck, and then it crashed twitching to the floor. Rose stooped down, picked up the head, blew it a kiss and then threw it casually into the open fire at the back of the room. Everyone else in the tavern had already decided it was well past their bedtimes, and were leaving at speed by every exit. Even the bar staff. In a surprisingly short time, the tavern was empty except for Rose Constantine, the headless body, and a suddenly very sober Brett Random. He lurched to his feet, struggling for words, and forced down a suicidal urge to hit Rose with the table.
    “ What the hell did you do that for?” he shrieked.
    “You said deal with him,” said Rose, calmly cleaning the blood from her blade.
    “I didn’t mean kill him! That was Gil Akotai’s righthand man! Oh, Lewis will have a coronary when he finds out. None of the Mistworlders will follow him after this! And you can bet Lewis will blame me, not you! Oh, God, my stomach hurts. All the people you could have killed . . . This will scupper all Lewis’s plans . . . I don’t even want to think about what they do to murderers here . . . Think! Think!”
    “That’s your department,” said Rose, putting away her sword.
    Brett strode up and down, glaring at the headless body on the floor, which was still twitching, as though it couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Brett kicked it a few times, but it didn’t make him feel any better. “All right . . . we could make it look like someone else did it. No, we couldn’t; they have espers here. They couldn’t pry anything out of our minds, but there were any number of witnesses. Think! Think! Hide the body—yes. Yes! And by the time they find it, we’ll be long gone. Rose, pick up the body. I’ve got an idea.”
    Rose picked up the body, and slung it effortlessly over one shoulder. Blood spilled down her crimson leathers, but that was nothing new for her. Brett doubted anyone would even notice. He gestured for Rose to follow him, and headed for the back of the bar, and then down into the wine cellars below. Brett scurried back and forth in the gloom, until he finally discovered a barrel of cider that had just been opened. He gestured urgently to Rose, and she dumped the body into the dark liquid. The cider swallowed Kramer up with hardly a splash, and Brett nailed the top down very thoroughly. He and Rose then pushed the barrel to the back, behind all the other barrels. Brett stepped back, breathing and sweating heavily, and considered his work.
    “They said they liked their cider to have a little body . . . All right, let’s get out of here. And remember, Rose, this never happened. ”

    Some time later, Brett Random and Rose Constantine strolled casually back into the Hob Hound, and expressed surprise that anyone had even missed them. Lewis and Akotai were deep in tactical discussions, and barely acknowledged their return, but Jesamine looked up suspiciously from the impromptu signing session she’d organized for her many Mistport fans. Brett stared