The Disjointed Tales Of Renryre Island

14-1: A Tail Of Revenge

"You remember Tally, don't you?" added Madrik.

"Hello, Tailfin," said Talyreina. "I'm glad to see you are doing well."

Tailfin was stuck firmly on the back foot. Somebody was playing games with him, and he didn't like it. Not when he wasn't in control of the game.

"You two took over my business while I was... away?"

"Just kept things running smoothly, really," said Madrik, waving his hands. "Think nothing of it."

Tailfin stared at the two for a moment longer. Something was happening that he couldn't quite grasp. He glanced around the room to see what else had changed. Nothing, so far as he could tell. Not even the papers stacked on the desk that made him look busy at all times. Nor the desk that was clearly intended for one person.

"You didn't think to bring in a bigger desk?" asked Tailfin. "Or do you need to hold each other's hands while you are working?"

They both flinched at that. Perfect. A small grin spread on Tailfin's mouth.

"Madrik, you have always been all show. A few muscles, fancy jawline, scars in the right places – just what girls look for in a gangster. But when it comes down to it, you have always been too stupid to make anything of it."

Yet he'd done a damn fine job of climbing the ranks, but Tailfin wasn't ready to give him credit for that just yet.

"Your bravado is your undoing," he added, despite the fact that bravado is half the job description wrapped up in a clenched fist.

"You should be dead by now, at least twice," continued the crime lord. "Only luck has kept you alive this long."

It took a hell of a lot more than pure luck to survive the desert run. Twice.

"Luck, and, maybe your new girlfriend."

Tailfin's smug tone only inflated as he watched Madrik shrink back into his seat. He was enjoying this. Every drop of sweat.

"Don't piss yourself right there," he added. "You're in my chair. Now tell me, how did you know I was still alive?"

Both of them looked nervously to one side of the room. Tailfin hadn't noticed the man sitting in the corner. He recognised him, but couldn't quite place him.

"And you are?" he asked.

"Discreet, sir. I believe I was just about to let myself out, sir. On your orders, of course, Mr Tailfin."

"Exactly."

The strange man casually walked toward the door, and strolled through it, straight past the dumbstruck henchman who was still holding up the broken door.

"Wait," said Tailfin. "You look familiar. Have we met?"

"It's certainly possible," said the man, shrugging casually, "although I suspect a successful businessman such as yourself would never forget a face worth remembering."

"Precisely."

Tailfin watched the odd man walk out. He suspected he had missed something there, but couldn't put his finger on it. He certainly couldn't admit to it. Seven days – a lot had happened without his knowledge. He needed to catch up.

"Right, Madrik," he said, turning his attention back to the desk. "Get out of my chair."

Tailfin was comforted to notice that the henchman was standing behind his shoulder, supportively flexing his muscles while holding up the door. Madrik tried to stand up calmly, but failed miserably. Tailfin suppressed a smile, pointing Madrik and Talyreina to the uncomfortable bench against the wall. He walked around the desk and dropped into his chair, his feet automatically lifting onto the desk, his fingers interlocking as he tapped them on his chest.

"It occurs to me," said Tailfin, "that an upstart such as yourself who managed to secure my desk and hold it for a week might have some promise after all."

He sat quietly for a moment, feigning considering the situation. Actually, he was feigning the feigned expression. He was considering the situation, but a successful crime lord had to keep up the appearance of always knowing what to do, and only pretending to think in order to give people enough time to start sweating.

"Perhaps we should get you two your own desks – a nice office too, with your own henchman to watch the door. Perhaps you could... handle some of the less important tasks for me."

Eager expressions raced across the faces of the two. Tailfin liked it. Even more, he liked to watch people's eyes when they realised there was a price to pay. There was always a catch.

"But of course you will need to prove you are... capable."

And there it was. Madrik's smile vanished, and Talyreina eyed him suspiciously, shifting nervously.

"Does the proving ground happen to be somewhere out in the desert?" asked Madrik. "I think I've already passed that test."

"No, nothing so life-threatening," smiled Tailfin. "There is a well-to-do lady named Arynlock. You've met her. Somehow, you made it off her boat without a chain tied to your feet."

Tailfin couldn't help but notice Madrik flinch. There was a story there. He would need to come back to that.

"Arynlock?" said Madrik. "We... we bought our way off her ship."

"Then you will have no problem with your test," said Tailfin, nodding. "I want her done for. Dead. Without a pulse. No chance to mess with my business any further. Understood?"

The two nodded nervously, glancing at each other conveying messages just beyond Tailfin's reach.

"You bring me the proof – solid proof – and you two become my number-two man. Number twos. Number two men. Numbers-two. Number... you report to me."

Tailfin glanced at the henchman, who was shuffling, itching to say something.

"What is it?"

"Seconds, boss."

"What?"

"Seconds. Short for second-in-command. Madrik would be your second. Tally would be your second. Together, they would be your seconds."

The henchman could string together an intelligent thought after all.

"Only if they bring me proof," he said, turning back to his prospective seconds. "Otherwise, we shall see how long they last chained to the bottom of the bay. Get out."

Tailfin watched them race out of the room, and chuckled to himself as they vanished.

"I need to find somebody. Where is that lackey of mine? The one with half a brain... with the accent."

"Tyke, boss? He's with the city watch. They went up north to investigate a shipwreck."

"The city watch? They?"

"Madrik thought they needed a boost, boss."

"Fine. Who've I got that can find someone in a hurry?"

"I'll get someone on it, boss. Who do you want found?"

"The Scribe."

"A scribe?"

"No, The Scribe."

"The scribe?"

"Yes, The Scribe."

"Which scribe?"

"Dammit! Send someone down to that fishermen's tavern. Find the girl, she will know."

"The girl?"

"Yes, the girl!"

"The girl in the tavern, boss?"

"Godsdammit!" said Tailfin, rubbing his temples. "The only girl in the fishermen's tavern! You have more than enough to go on. Have The Scribe sent to me, or bring him to me in a sack. Doesn't matter."

"Yes, boss."

The henchman hesitated for a moment, glanced around, then shuffled out awkwardly. The door fell to the floor.