The crossroads was crowded.
Hotfingers Flora was chatting and laughing with her friends while tossing saucy, flirtatious glances at every passing male when the wagon pulled up beside them. At first she didnt give it much of a glance; the streets were busy with men on foot, porters with heavy loads, handcarts full of golden loaves of bread, cloth, boxes and bales, a sedan-chair she cast an envious glance at the courtesan lolling within it and any number of farmers wagons hauling in the citys food.
When it stopped in front of her, she realized that this one wagon was different. It was a curious sight, with high sides and hoops over the top as though it was meant to be covered by a canvas tilt. But there were crossbars tied onto the hoops with rawhide thongs, making it look like a cage. It was driven by a pair of Bas-Tyran guards and followed by four more on foot, their hobnails a counterpoint to the clangour of iron-rimmed wheels on stone and their halberds swaying as they marched in step.
Some of her friends moved away cautiously anything out of the ordinary was dangerous. But the majority of the girls watched with arms folded across their breasts and their eyes flicking toward the surrounding alleys, holding their ground despite their suspicion. After all, a lot of their business came from soldiers.
A sergeant descended from the wagon and approached the girls with the rolling swagger of a man whod spent as much of his life on horseback as on foot. His corporal went to work lowering the tailgate and opening the cage door; the rest of the squad braced their polearms, the sharp hooks on the backs interlinked, a bare upright tent.
The sergeant chucked Flora under the chin and turned to grin at his men who also moved in, smiling. He smelled of sweat, leather and sour wine; she was used to that, but this man was ranker than most, and she wrinkled her nose a little. Flora tossed her head and with a slightly nervous smile asked, Anything I can do for you, soldier?
Yes, the sergeant said, leaning in close, you can come with me, my little canker-blossom, you and all your friends. Were having a party for you back at the keep. He took hold of her arm with a hard grip and a cruel, crook-toothed smile.
Well, theres no need to be rough about it, Flora snapped, trying to pull away.
I suppose there isnt, he agreed amiably. But, ye see, I want to be.
With that, he picked her up by her hair and the waist of her skirt and tossed her into the cage in a squawking cartwheel of limbs and cloth. Her knee hit something hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Before she could get to her feet, her friends were thrown in on top of her, driving the breath out of her lungs with a force that left her struggling for air. One of her teeth cut the inside of her lip with a little stab of pain, and the iron-salt-copper taste of blood filled her mouth.
Wait! she cried after an instant, sucking back her breath as she went scrambling backward out of the writhing heap. We havent done nothing! What are you doing?
The cries of the others were shrill around her: protests, sobs, curses and wordless shrieks of rage. She hauled herself up by the bars of the wagon in time to see two of her friends scurry down an alley with their skirts gathered up, and took heart from the sight. Word would get back to the Upright Man and something would be done about it. Flora rattled the wooden bars of the cage as hard as she could, glaring.
You cant just throw us in jail for nothing! she shouted.
The sergeant came up to her and smacked her fingers with a mailed fist; not hard enough to break anything, but more than hard enough to hurt. Oh, yes we can, he said, with what might have been mistaken for good humour, if you werent watching his eyes.
Those eyes had something in them that made her shiver and remember what Jimmy had said about the risks of freelancing.
The sergeant slapped his gloved hands together; the metal rings on their backs clinked dully. So says the acting governor. We can do anything we want to trash like you, and serves you right. Now shut up and settle down like a good, sensible girl or Ill knock your teeth out.
Flora sucked her wounded knuckles and did as she was told. The pain was distant, less real than the way her heart pounded with fear, and her throat tried to squeeze itself shut beneath a mouth gone parchment-dry.
By the time they arrived at the keep, the cage was full to bursting and Flora was pressed tightly against the bars which was still better than being in the middle, since at least there was open air on one side. The wagon was filled with whores and beggars and a very few of the younger pickpockets who had been doing absolutely nothing illegal when they were taken. The soldiers had even rounded up a few people who were simply poor, or whod happened to be standing next to the wrong whore. But shed noticed that most of those in the cage with her were Mockers. And that frightened her. Clearly Jocko Radburn was not taking the Mockers adventure with the Princess Anita lightly.
The gates clashed shut behind them. More Bas-Tyra guardsmen hauled them out of the wagons to join a growing file of prisoners being herded to stairways that led downward. Boots and fists and the steel-shod butts of halberds and pikes thudded on flesh; almost all the cursing came from the guards, though.
Their prisoners were mostly silent, except for the occasional cry of pain.
Jimmy had slept for a whole day and night, waking at mid-morning on the second day after the Sea Swifts departure. He stretched luxuriously, rose and put on clean clothes or rather, the well-aired rags hed left in this room the last time hed slept here and descended the stairs. Instinct made him walk close to the wall, where the boards were less likely to creak. On the whole he liked growing up, but there was no denying it made you heavier, and he was conscientious about learning to make skill compensate for the additional poundage.
If yere lookin for breakfast ye can look elsewhere, said his landlady. She was a toothless beldame who glared at him with rheumy eyes. Ye know Ive nothing for ye at this hour.
I wouldnt think of asking you to trouble yourself, Jimmy said gallantly. He smiled. I needed the sleep more than the breakfast anyway.
At your age? the old woman sneered.
It was a long trip this time, Jimmy said.
And indeed it was, into a whole other world in its way. But now it was time to get back to business. First he would stop at Mockers Rest and see what was happening. Then he could start the planning stages of something bigger than picking pockets.
Hed been apprenticed to Long Charlie for the last few months, though that apprenticeship had been suspended the night Jimmy had caught sight of Prince Arutha attempting to flee Jocko Radburn himself.
The Prince, his Huntmaster Martin Longbow and Amos Trask the legendary Trenchard the Pirate had come secretly into the city a few days earlier before Jimmys encounter with the Prince. They had tried to hide their presence but from Jimmys point of view they stood out like red bulls in a sheep fold. By the time Jimmy had chanced across Radburn pursuing Arutha, the Upright Man had put the word out to pick up these three newcomers.
Jimmy had known something was up between the smugglers and Mockers, something beyond their usual uneasy truce, for Trevor Hulls men had come and gone in areas of the sewer that were clearly Mockers territory, but as he was only a boy, albeit a very talented one, he was not privy to the secret of the Princesss escape from the keep.
Finding Arutha had changed that, and had plunged Jimmy into the heart of a conspiracy that had ended the night before with Anita, Arutha, and his companions successfully making their escape. He had not only become a conspirator but had become a companion to both Prince Arutha and Princess Anita while they awaited their opportunity for escape. He had played his part, earned royal thanks, and found within himself a sense of something larger than himself for the first time in his young life.
Such triumphs left Jimmy in no mood to return to apprenticeship, opening practice-locks while Long Charlie looked over his shoulder. Besides, hed long since caught the knack of lock-picking and the samples hed seen didnt look as if theyd offer any challenge. Frankly, the training he was getting was boring and Jimmy knew in his heart that he was meant for more exciting things. Sometimes it seemed that Charlie was just giving him tedious work to keep Jimmy out of his hair. Even before the adventure with Arutha and Anita, Jimmy had made up his mind to request a new mentor. Life is too short to wait for what Im entitled to, he thought.
One thing he should do today was steal some more respectable-looking clothes. The ones he was wearing smelled bad, even to himself.
Or I could buy some, just for a change, he thought. But first, a money-changer.
The changer worked out of a narrow shop in an alley, denoted by a pair of scales on a sign above the door; the paint was so faded that only a hint of gold peeped through the grime. Jimmy hopped over the trickle of filth down the centre of the alley, nodded to the basher who stood just outside, polishing the brickwork with his shoulder, and pushed through the door. The basher would find a reason to delay any citizen from entering the shop whenever a Mocker was inside.
Ference, the money-changer, looked up and said, Ah, Jimmy! What can I do for you?
Jimmy reached inside his tunic and pulled out his coin pouch, and with a quick flip of his wrist, rolled half a dozen coins on the counter. The others were safely hidden on top of a ceiling beam in his room.
Gold? Ference said, looking at the thumbnail-sized coins Jimmy shoved across the smooth wood of the table.
The money-changer was a middle-aged man with a thin, lined face and the sort of squint you got from fretting about your strongbox when you should be sleeping. He dressed with the sort of sombre respectability a prosperous storekeeper might affect.
Getting ambitious, are you, Jimmy lad?
Honestly earned, Jimmy said, for a change. And it was even true, for once.
He kept a close eye on the scales as Prince Aruthas coins turned into a jingling heap of worn and much less conspicuous silver and copper. The Upright Mans regulations kept men like Ference moderately honest broken arms were the usual first-time penalty for changers or fences shorting Mockers, and then it got really nasty but it never hurt to be self-reliant.
There, the changer said at last. Thatll attract a lot less attention.
Just what I thought, Jimmy said, smiling a little to himself.
He bought a money-belt to hold it too big a jingling purse was conspicuous too and wandered out into the street.
Pork pies! Pork pies! he heard, and the words brought a flood of saliva into his mouth; he had missed breakfast. Two of your best, Mistress Pease, he said grandly.
The pie-seller put down the handles of her pushcart and brought out two; they were still warm, and the smell made his nose twitch. What was more, Mistress Peases pork pies were actually made from pork, not of rabbit, cat, or the even less savoury concoctions you got from some vendors. He bit into one.
Feeling prosperous, I see, she said, as he handed over four coppers.
Hard work and clean living, Mistress, he replied; she shook all over as she laughed.
Well, a thin cook wouldnt be much of an advertisement, would she? he thought.
He washed the pies down with a flagon of cider bought from a nearby vendor, and sat in the sun belching contentedly, his back against the stone-coping of a well.
He was just licking his fingers when a pebble hit the top of his head.
Ouch, he thought, and looked up.
Long Charlies cadaverous face peered around a gable. His hands moved: Report to Mockers Rest, he said in the signing cant. Right now. No delay, no excuses.
Jimmy swigged back the rest of the cider and hastily returned his flagon to the vendor with polite thanks. Then he headed for the nearest alley.
Once in the sewers he moved at a confident jog even through the pitch-black places, of which there were many and passed the guards the Mockers had stationed at various locations, who seemed unusually alert today. Not that they were ever less than wide-awake; sleeping or getting drunk on guard duty could get you badly hurt or seriously dead.
The smell was homelike, though ripe; Jimmy flicked his toe aside and sent a rat more belligerent than most flying through the air. Its squeal ended with a sodden thud you had to be careful about the ones that didnt run away, chances were they were sick with something. Jimmy had seen a man foaming at the mouth from a rat bite and it wasnt a sight he would quickly forget.
The Rest was like a kicked anthill, all swarming movement although ants didnt produce that sort of din, or wave their arms so that you nearly got clouted in the face walking through. Agitated people moved quickly from group to group; everyone seemed to be talking at once. He spied a boy he knew standing apart and went over to him. Whats happening? he asked.
The boy, dubbed Larry the Ear because his were enormous, stood tense as a bowstring watching the frantic activity. He spoke to Jimmy without taking his eyes from the scene before them. Bas-Tyras men are arresting the girls and the beggars and anyone else they can get their damned paws on, Larry growled. They took Gerald.
Jimmy blinked. Gerald was Larrys younger brother, not much older than seven, if that. Jimmy had known Radburn was a vindictive swine, but arresting babies was beyond contempt.
He started to ask, Was he pick ?
No! Larry snapped, turning to glare at Jimmy. He wasnt doing nothing. He was just playin, just bein a kid!
Damn Radburns bones, Jimmy said quietly.
Damn him right enough, Larry said. But this was del Garza. Radburns out of town took ship not an hour after the Princess got away. Jimmy blinked. If Larry knew the Princess had been the one fleeing last night, then everyone knew it. So much for secrets. Del Garzas in charge, and hes gone crazy mean.
Crazy like a fox, Jimmy thought, motionless, as implications ran through his mind. Princess gone, Radburn chasing her del Garza will want lots of people to pin the blame on when the Duke gets back. Radburn can at least say he went after them right away. What was that old saying? Victory has a thousand fathers, but defeat is an orphan. Del Garza wants to have as many other candidates for the role of defeats father as he can.
Del Garzas a snake from the same egg as Radburn, Larry said passionately. Hes up to something and even if it takes hurting a little boy, hell do it!
Jimmy nodded in agreement. Well, we wont let him, he said quietly. Lets see what the Upright Man decides and if he doesnt make the right decision, well, well see. He punched Larrys shoulder. You with me?