Hael's Bells - Part 5

     Turning away from the yowling man, Hanan mindfully wrapped his hand around his dagger, and pulled it from the desktop.  With a quick end-over-end flip into the air, he caught the handle and began to twirl the sharp blade through his long, agile fingers.  Knife play always helped him to concentrate, a skill he developed in his younger days, and then later honed as a member of the fearsome Haellador. 

     Freezing the dagger suddenly, Hanan tightened his jaw and narrowed his eyes at Paetar.  “Now that would do nicely as a first instalment,” he insisted under a sly grin, as he tapped the ring on the man’s broken finger with the tip of his blade.  Then turning his back on Paetar once again, he began to tap his chin instead, absorbed in deep thought.  Yaartara… where sky meets the sea, he chuckled silently, remembering the stories Grandpa Klem used to tell him by the fireside.  No one believed it was real, but there it sat on Paetar Kraevalen’s finger.  He knew it.

     Family legend had it that many generations ago an ancestor had stolen it from the king’s treasury.  The ring itself was of little importance, but the stone crowning it was the Yaartara, a dazzling large blue gem of unimaginable beauty and inestimable value.  Through various misdeeds and adventures, all recounted with great zeal by his grandfather, the Yaartara stone disappeared, leaving only a small corner left on the ring after the bulk of the gem had been prised off.  …but big enough to be worth— Hanan cut his own thoughts short as he remembered his poor waiting captive, and the prize within his reach.  “It won’t be much,” he lied, giving his knife a spin on his fingertips.  “But I can’t leave here empty-handed.”

     “I told you,” Paetar coughed and sputtered.  “You’ll have your fifty thousand by sundown tomorrow.  You have my word.”

     “Fifty?!” Hanan, snapped his gaze back to his victim.  “Is that what he told you?   Try counting those zeros again, my friend.”  Deftly passing the spinning blade to his other hand, before adding small bounding flips to his knife play, he continued.  “The kind of information your boss wanted doesn’t come cheap.  I supplied it, at great risk to myself I might add, and so now he must pay, as agreed…” he paused balancing the tip of his dagger on the end of his finger, and then added with a small smirk, “…with interest.”

     “Interest?  On five hundred grand??” Paetar spat in exasperation.  “Hanan, be reasonable… how can we—?”

     “I am being reasonable, Paetar.  I’m being more than reasonable.”  Tossing the dagger high, and then firmly clutching the handle, he pointed it at the bound man.  “Your boss quite willingly agreed to these terms, and those numbers.  Time for payment has come and gone three times now without even one copper to show for my hard work.  So now…” licking his lips, he enunciated each word sharply, “I expect redress with accumulated interest for each day that passes without the fee he promised.  Tell me,” he shrugged with a fake sweet smile, looking ever the angel over his hard, black interior, “how is that being unreasonable?”

     Paetar sat quietly, listening and shaking his head as it hung forward.  He then slowly moved his eyes to look up at Hanan.  “How are we going to get that kind of money?” he rasped flatly.

     “Not my problem.  You’re the treasurer, Consul Kraevalen, you figure it out.”  With a sudden quick turn, Hanan threw his dagger.  Flying a short distance, it landed, the point stuck into the wooden chair between Paetar’s open legs.

     The man flinched with a terrified start, as Hanan laughed, approaching him.  “Don’t worry, Paetar, that’s not the appendage you’re going to lose.”  He assured him, reaching down to retrieve his dagger, a devious grin spreading across his lips.

     “In the meantime, I’ll simply take this…” Grabbing hold of the disjointed finger, Hanan swiped his blade with a forceful flick of his wrist, slicing the finger clean off.   Then with a vicious snarl, he leaned in close to the man’s burned and bubbling face, his voice low and threatening.  “Maybe now you’ll remember not to fuck with me.”  Giving the city treasurer a long cold stare, Hanan then disappeared through the doorway, his footsteps fading under the clanging machinery.

     After he had gone, Paetar Kraevalen let his breath go and blinked at the dingy, empty room, then down at his bloodied hand.  The fine sharp edge of Hanan’s dagger had caused its damage without any pain.  So the treasurer sat, dazed and motionless… until he realized he was a finger short… and missing the seal of the city.

     As Hanan made his way back through the mill, Paetar began to scream – a vengeful cry rising up with the chime of the nearby church bells, announcing the end of morning worship.

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     Stopping on the platform to light a cigarette, Hanan inhaled deeply before blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth with a self-satisfied smile on his face.  The morning hadn’t gone quite as planned, he thought.  It had turned out even better.  And Hanan knew exactly what his next move would be.  Although he was up one priceless treasure, the Chief Magistrate still had to pay…

     Popping the cigarette between his lips, Hanan smirked, and then pulled the ring from the bloodied digit.  Graegar Tinvellek… he spoke in mind as he gave it a toss before enclosing it in his fist… you will pay, old fellow.  You will pay from where it really hurts… again.  Time to pay your new bride a visit, he chuckled.  Amused with his new plan of attack, he tucked the ring safely into his pants’ pocket, and then stepped down from the mill’s entrance platform, carelessly throwing the severed finger over his shoulder and into the snow.

     Meanwhile, Paetar Kraevalen writhed in frustrated anger, left forgotten in the little room…  “Listen!” his crazed ravings rattled up from his heaving chest.  “The bells… The bells they toll…  Hael’s Bells, Hanan!  They toll for you!!”

     As the happy sinners filed out of the church, their souls cleansed for yet another week, Hanan strolled out into the square, smirking and nodding politely to the passers-by.  Sucking back another deep drag, he blew out the puff with a huge knowing smile. 

     …He knew he had further condemned his own soul to Hael… and that suited him just fine.

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