45th Day of Spring, 516AV || The Traveler's Complex
"When you work for me, your role is most often in the darkness... but for the Magistrate, sometimes it needs to be in the light."
Konrad blinked a few times and watched Janus swallow a few more mouthfuls of some wine that was rare and expensive. He needed the time to mentally break down what his contact was saying and thus commanding of him. Around him the hum of the tavern went on a good few yards from their own. Probably something to do with the two barrel-chested guards flanking their table, but Konrad was guessing The Man himself had more to do with it.
Lasher probably didn't own the tavern. Janus certainly didn't. But Lasher didn't need to. They were in the Midnight Market, and that, he most certainly did own.
"Y'need me t'do something in public, then? Something for his bro-" He caught his words as Janus' dark eyes spun to him, snake-fast and just as mean. "The Magistrate."
"That was whom you were intending to have employ you when you walked into his office, correct?"
Konrad just nodded and supped at his own ale, not wanting to answer an obvious question with anything else. Janus liked to dance around like that; it was just his way.
"Good. Then we have something for you. From the Magistrate. A slave, a runaway. Not just that, which could be handled on the plantation, but on his way out, he stole from his master and struck his mistress." The next swallow went down with a grimace. The audacity. The sheer petching gall of it all! "That requires more than just a flogging outside the manse, Mister Venger. That requires a message to be sent, and the word to go forth."
Again, Konrad stayed silent and listened. He grasped the concept, of course. The fumes in the air weren't addling his mind, no more than the raucous noise of a night-time tavern in full revelry. His eyes wandered over the drunks, toughs, whores and hustlers packed inside, if only to distract him for the moment.
They wanted him to punish this slave. All he needed to know was How and When.
"You remember the stake in the square, outside the Traveler's Complex?" He nodded. "That's where it will take place. At midday, when Syna is at his peak and the crowd will be large enough to cary the word within a bell. Dynasts, Freeborn, slaves, visitors, all that Kenash encompasses will see what you'll do."
"Y'want me to kill him?"
Janus finished his cup and didn't even need to make a gesture before it was refilled. The owner was far too sharp - and intimidated - not to keep the Lord of the Midnight Market fully satisfied at all times. He took another sip and his words were as casual as ever.
"Eventually. But not immediately. Remember-"
"Aye," Konrad said as he sipped his ale, drawing Janus' gaze as he drew out the pause. "Let the word go forth, right?"
"Exactly, Mister Venger."
++++++++++
It was the next morning and a bell before midday and Konrad was standing in front of an unfamiliar door. But the man behind it was less so. They'd only met twice. The first, he'd watched him murder a man with his bare hands, and he'd been impressed. The second, he'd weaved enough bullshyke around his impressionable head that he'd realized the man was so desperate to belong, to be directed, that with the right push in the right places, he could be Konrad's dog sure as Three Eyes was.
Speaking of which, he made a note to roust the little bastard from his hole after the business outside. But for now, all he needed was Wikus.
He rapped on the door and listened for a while... then concluded the wild-eyed and wilder-minded beast of a man was in his cups and pounded on the bastard instead. Konrad had pondered a use for Wikus. Something that could aid him, enhance his own tasks, but also bind the man further to him. It was a strange thought process. Konrad did not often guide his plotting in such a way, but with Wikus, he felt the need.
There's something about him, he mused as he waited. Something I saw in the road, that was bigger and grander... and useful. Very useful.
Especially today.
His hand tightened around the thing he'd brought with him. Wikus had a whip with him, and he'd seen the man use it. Quite well, in fact. Konrad was eager to see what Wikus could do against the bare, staked flesh of a defiant slave. How long it would take, how many lashes he would need to batter the attitude and spirit out of him.
But it'll look better without his pants around his ankle.
Hence the belt he was holding, which was, technically, a gift. He was not expecting anything back from it, save service already promised. Konrad was not in the habit of accepting those as currency, but Wikus was a special case. Everything in his eyes, his expression, the fission of his body in that diner... it all spoke of a man begging to be led.
To be unleashed.
He'd picked up the belt on the way, and spent a little longer than usual getting such a simple accessory. He'd looked for something... unique. A handful of chimes extra, and you could find something that fit, that would be remembered.
"Presentation an' reputation", he murmured to himself, shooting a quick, hot glare at a passing traveler who gave him a curious look as he passed. Slow footsteps became much quicker after that. "Taz was right about that, the piece a' shyke."
His thumb rubbed the leather of the belt as he waited, and rubbed across the knobbly, shiny metal buckle at the end of it.
In the shape of a snarling bear.
Receipt-1gm for a belt with a bear buckle
