The Trouble with Peace (The Age of Madness #2) - Joe Abercrombie Page 0,11

met.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She nodded up the steps towards the office. “Lady Savine is here.”

“She’s here now?”

“She wants to watch you work.” That sat there for a moment, between them, in the darkness. Doing it was one thing. He could tell himself he had to. Choosing to watch it was another. “Perhaps you could… persuade her not to?”

Broad winced. “If I could persuade people just by talking I wouldn’t have to persuade ’em the other way.”

“My scripture teacher used to say that those who strive and fail are as blessed as those who succeed.”

“That ain’t been my experience.”

“Trying cannot hurt.”

“That ain’t been my experience, either,” muttered Broad, following her up the steps.

From the door, Savine looked her usual, perfectly controlled self. Close up in the lamplight, he could tell something was wrong. There was a sore pinkness around the rims of her nostrils, an eager brightness to her eyes, a strand of hair stray from her wig. Then he spotted the streak of faint stains on her jacket, as shocking as no clothes at all might’ve been on someone else.

“Lady Savine,” he said. “Sure you want to be here for this?”

“Your concern is ever so sweet, but I have a strong stomach.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’m not thinking o’ you.” He dropped his voice. “Truth is, you bring out the worst in me.”

“Your problem, Master Broad, is you confuse your best with your worst. I need work to continue on the canal first thing tomorrow. First thing. I need it open and making me money.” She snarled the last word, teeth bared, her fury setting his heart thumping. She was a head shorter than him. He’d have been shocked if she was half his weight. But she still scared him. Not because of what she might do. Because of what she might get him to do. “Now make it happen, there’s a darling.”

Broad glanced over at Zuri, her black eyes gleaming in the darkness. “We all are fingers on God’s hand,” she murmured, with a sorry shrug.

He looked down at his own hand, knuckles aching as he slowly curled it into a fist. “If you say so.”

Broad strode back across the warehouse floor, footsteps echoing, towards that pool of light. He told himself he was trying to look eager. To act the part. But he’d never been much of an actor. The truth was he couldn’t wait to get there.

Gaunt saw something in Broad’s eye, maybe. He twisted in his chair, like he could twist away from what was coming. But neither of them could. “Now wait a—”

Broad’s tattooed fist thudded into his ribs. The chair rocked back and Bannerman caught it, shoved it forward again. Broad’s other fist sank into Gaunt’s other side and twisted him, eyes bulging. He stayed like that, quivering, face turning purple, for a moment. He got one little wheezing breath in before he puked.

It spattered in his lap, spattered the warehouse floor, and Bannerman stepped back, frowning down at his shiny new boots. “Oh, we got a gusher.”

Took an effort, not to keep punching. Took an effort, for Broad to keep some kind of grip on himself and speak. When he did, it was strange how calm his voice sounded. “Time’s up on the civilised approach. Bring him out.”

Halder came from the darkness, dragging someone with him. A young lad, roped up, gurgling into a gag.

“No,” croaked Gaunt as Halder shoved the lad down and Bannerman started tying him to a chair. “No, no,” a string of drool still hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“A man can take a lot, when he thinks he’s fighting the good fight. I know that.” Broad rubbed gently at his knuckles. “But seeing it done to your child? That’s something else.”

The lad stared around, tears tracking his face. Broad wished he could have a drink. He could almost taste it, on his tongue. A drink made everything easier. Easier at the time, anyway. Harder afterwards. He pushed the thought away.

“Doubt I’ll be boasting ’bout this, either.” Broad checked his sleeves were rolled up right. That seemed important, for some reason. “But when you toss it into all the other shit I done, it hardly even shifts the level.”

He glanced up towards the office. Maybe he’d been hoping Savine would be waving at him to stop. But there was no one there. Just the light, to say she was watching. A man has to be able to stop himself. Broad had never been any good at that. He