Magician (84 page)

Affecting a nasal voice, Arutha said,
“My good man, you don’t expect me to purchase a garment
without seeing if it fits?”

Suddenly confronted by a buyer, the man
became unctuously friendly. “Oh no, certainly, sir.”
Looking at Arutha in the ill-tailored cloak, he said, “It’s
a perfect fit, sir, and the color suits you well, if I may say.”

Arutha chanced a glance at his
pursuers. The man called Radburn stood at the corner, blood dried
upon his face and his nose swollen, but still able to direct his
men’s search. Arutha adjusted the cloak, a great, cumbersome
thing that hung nearly to the ground. In a display of fussiness, he
said, “You think so? I wouldn’t care to appear at court
looking like a vagabond.”

“Oh, court is it, sir? Well, it’s
just the thing, mark me It adds a certain elegance to your
appearance.”

“How much is it?” Arutha
saw Radburn’s men walking through the busy crowd, some looking
into each tavern and storefront as they passed, others hurrying on to
other destinations. More followed from the smaller street, and
Radburn spoke quickly to them. He set some to watching those in the
street, then turned and led the rest back the way they had come.

“It’s the finest cloth made
in Ran, sir,” said the seller. “It was brought at great
expense from the shore of the Kingdom Sea. I couldn’t let it go
for less than twenty golden sovereigns.”

Arutha blanched, and for a moment was
so struck by the outrageous price he nearly forgot himself. “Twenty!”
He lowered his voice as a passing member of Radburn’s company
threw him a quick glance “My dear man,” he said,
returning to character, “I seek to purchase a cloak, not
establish an annuity for your grandchildren.” Radburn’s
man turned away and disappeared into the press of the crowd. “It
is rather a plain wrap, after all. I should think two sovereigns more
than sufficient.”

The man looked stricken “Sir, you
seek to beggar me I couldn’t think of parting with it for a sum
of less than eighteen sovereigns.”

They haggled for another ten minutes,
and Arutha finally departed with the cloak for the price of eight
sovereigns and two silver royals. It was double the price he should
have paid, but the searchers had ignored a man haggling with a street
seller, and escaping detection was worth the price a hundred times
over.

Arutha kept alert for signs he was
being watched as he made his way along the street. Unfortunately he
knew little of Krondor and had no idea where he was after the flight.
He kept to the busier part of the street, staying close to larger
groups, seeking to blend in.

Arutha saw a man standing at the
corner, seemingly idling the night away, but clearly watching those
who passed. Arutha looked around and saw a tavern on the other side
of the street, marked by a brightly painted sign of a white dove. He
quickly crossed the street, keeping his face turned away from the man
at the corner, and approached the doorway of the tavern. As he
reached for the door, a hand gripped his cloak, and Arutha spun, his
sword halfway out of its scabbard. A boy of about thirteen stood
there, wearing a simple, oft-patched tunic and men’s trousers
cut off at the knees. He had dark hair and eyes, and his smudged face
was set in a grin. “Not there, sir,” he said with a merry
note in his voice.

Arutha slipped his sword back into the
scabbard and fell into character. “Begone, boy. I’ve no
time for beggars or panderers, even those of limited stature.”

The boy’s grin broadened “If
you insist, but there are two of them in there.”

Arutha dropped his nasal accent. “Who?”

“The men who chased you from the
side street.”

Arutha glanced about. The boy appeared
alone. He looked into the boy’s eyes and said, “What are
you talking about?”

“I saw how you acted. Quick on
your feet, sir. But they’ve blanketed the area, and you’ll
not be slipping by them yourself.”

Arutha leaned forward “Who are
you, boy?”

With a toss of his ragged hair he said,
“Name’s Jimmy I work hereabouts. I can get you out. For a
fee, of course.”

“And what makes you think I wish
to get out?”

“Don’t play the fool with
me, like you did with the merchant, sir. You need to get clear of
somebody who’s likely to pay me to show him where you are. I’ve
run afoul of Radburn and his men before, so you have more of my
sympathy than he’s likely to get. As long as you can bid more
for your freedom than he will for your capture.”

“You know Radburn?”

Jimmy grinned. “Not so as I’d
care to admit, but yes, we’ve had dealings before.”

Arutha was struck by the boy’s
cool manner, not what he would have expected from the boys he knew
back home. Here stood an old hand at negotiating the treacherous
byways of the city. “How much?”

“Radburn will pay me twenty-five
gold to find you, fifty if he especially wants your skin.”

Arutha took out his com pouch and
handed it to the boy. “Over a hundred sovereigns in there, boy.
Get me out of here and to the docks, and I’ll double it.”

The boy’s eyes flickered wide a
moment, but he never lost his grin. “You must have offended
someone with a lot of influence. Come along.”

He darted away so quickly, Arutha
almost lost him in the heavy crowd. The boy moved with the ease of
experience through the press, while Arutha had to struggle to keep
from jostling people in the street.

Jimmy led him into an alley, several
blocks away. When they were a short way down the alley, Jimmy
stopped. “Better toss that cloak. Red’s not my favorite
color for looking inconspicuous.” When Arutha had pitched the
cloak into an empty barrel, Jimmy said, “You’ll be
pointed at the docks in a moment. If someone tumbles onto us, you’re
on your own. But for that other hundred gold, I’ll try to see
you all the way.”

They worked their way to the end of the
alley, apparently seldom used from the heavy accumulation of trash
and discarded objects, packing crates, broken furniture, and nameless
goods against the walls around them Jimmy pulled aside a crate,
revealing a hole. “This should put us outside Radburn’s
net, at least I hope so,” said Jimmy.

Arutha found he had to crouch to follow
the boy through the small passage From the rank odor in the tunnel,
it was clear something had crawled in here to die fairly recently. As
if reading his mind, Jimmy said, “We toss a dead cat in here
every few days. Keeps others from sticking their noses too far in.”

“We?” said Arutha.

Jimmy ignored the question and kept
moving Soon they exited into another alley overburdened with trash.
At the mouth of the alley, Jimmy motioned for Arutha to stop and
wait. He hurried along the dark street, then returned at a run.
“Radburn’s men. They must have known you’d head for
the harbor.”

“Can we slip past them?”

“No chance. They’re as
thick as lice on a beggar.” The boy took off in the opposite
direction down the street they had entered from the alley. Arutha
followed as Jimmy turned up another small byway. Arutha hoped he
hadn’t bargained wrongly in trusting the street boy. After a
few minutes of traveling, Jimmy stopped. “I know a place you
can hole up awhile, until I can find some others to help get you to
your ship. But it’ll cost you more than a hundred.”

“Get me to my ship before dawn,
and I’ll give you whatever you ask.”

Jimmy grinned. “I can ask a lot.”
He regarded Arutha for a moment longer, then with a curt nod of his
head led off. Arutha followed, and they wound their way deeper into
the city. The sounds of people in the streets fell off, and Arutha
judged they were moving into an area less well traveled at night. The
buildings around them showed they were heading into another poor area
of the city, though not close to the docks as far as Arutha could
tell.

Several sharp turns through dark,
narrow alleys, and Arutha was completely lost. Abruptly Jimmy turned
and said, “We’re there.” He pulled open a door in
an otherwise blank wall and stepped through. Arutha climbed a long
flight of stairs after him.

Jimmy led him down a long hall at the
top of the stairs, to a door. The boy opened it and indicated Arutha
should enter. Arutha took a single step, then halted as he discovered
three sword points leveled at his stomach.

T
he
man motioned for Arutha to enter.

He sat behind a small table facing the
door. Leaning forward into the light of the small lamp on the table,
he said, “Please come in.” The light revealed his face
was covered with pockmarks and he possessed a large hooked nose. His
eyes never strayed from Arutha as the three swordsmen stepped back,
allowing the Prince entrance. Arutha hesitated as he saw the bound
and unconscious forms of Amos and Martin slumped against the wall.
Amos groaned and stirred, but Martin remained motionless.

Arutha measured the distance between
himself and the three swordsmen, his hand hovering near the hilt of
his rapier. Any notion of leaping back and drawing his sword vanished
when he felt a dagger point pressed against the small of his back. A
hand snaked around from behind and relieved him of his sword.

Jimmy then stepped around the Prince,
examining the rapier as he carefully hid his dagger in the folds of
his loose tunic. He grinned broadly. “I’ve seen a few of
these about. It’s light enough I could use it.”

Dryly Arutha said, “Under the
circumstances, it might not be inappropriate to make it my legacy to
you. Use it in good health.”

The pock-faced man said, “You
keep your wits about you,” as Arutha was ushered farther into
the room by a swordsman. Another put away his weapon and tied
Arutha’s arms behind him. He was then roughly thrust into a
chair, opposite the man who had spoken, who continued, “My name
is Aaron Cook, and you’ve already met Jimmy the Hand.” He
indicated the boy. “These others prefer to remain anonymous at
present.”

Arutha looked at the boy. “Jimmy
the Hand?”

The boy executed a fair imitation of a
courtly bow, and Cook said, “The finest pickpocket in Krondor
and well on his way to becoming the finest thief as well, should you
be inclined to believe his self-appraisal.

“Now, to matters of business. Who
are you?”

Arutha related the story of being
Amos’s business partner, calling himself Arthur, and Cook
studied him stoically. With a sigh, he nodded, and one of the silent
men stepped forward and struck Arutha across the mouth. Arutha’s
head snapped back from the force of the blow, and his eyes watered.
“Friend Arthur,” said Aaron Cook, shaking his head, “we
can go about this interview two ways. I’d advise you not to
make the choice of the difficult way. It will prove most unpleasant,
and we shall know what we want in the end in any event. So please
consider your answer carefully.” He stood and came around the
table. “Who are you?”

Arutha began to repeat his story, and
the man who struck him stepped forward again, ending his answer with
another ringing blow. The man called Cook leaned down so his face was
level with Arutha’s Arutha blinked to clear the tears from his
eyes, and Cook said, “Friend, tell us what we ask. Now, so as
not to waste time”—he pointed at Amos —“that
he is the captain of your ship we concede, but you his business
partner . . . I think not. That other fellow played the part of a
hunter from the mountains in several taverns about town, and I think
it no mummery; he has the look of one who knows mountains better than
city streets, a look hard to forge.” He studied Arutha “But
you you are a soldier at least, and your rich boots and fine sword
mark you a gentleman. But I think there is more.” Looking into
Arutha’s eyes, he said, “Now, why is Jocko Radburn so
intent upon finding you?”

Arutha looked Aaron Cook squarely in
the eyes. “I don’t know.”

The man who had struck Arutha began to
step forward again, but Cook held up his hand. “That may be
true. You’ve been something of a fool, the way you’ve
been popping up here and there, hanging around the gates of the
palace, playing the innocent. You are either poor spies, or poor
fools, but there is no doubt you’ve aroused the interest of the
Viceroy’s men, and therefore ours.”

“Who are you?”

Cook ignored the question “Jocko
Radburn’s the senior officer in the Viceroy’s secret
police. Despite that open, honest face on him, Radburn’s one of
the most steel-nerved, immovable bastards the gods ever graced this
world with. He’d happily cut his grandmother’s heart out
if he thought the old girl was making free with state secrets. The
fact he put in a personal appearance shows he, at the very least,
judges you potentially important.

“We first learned three men were
nosing about town a day or two after you arrived, and when our people
heard some of Radburn’s men were keeping an eye upon you, we
decided to do likewise. When they began offering small bribes for
information about you three, we became especially interested. We were
content to simply keep watching you, waiting until you showed your
hand.

“But when Jocko and his men
showed at the Sailor’s Ease, we were forced to act. We snatched
those two from under Jocko’s nose, but Jocko and his bully boys
came down the alley between you and us, so we hurried them away.
Jimmy’s finding you was a bit of luck, for he didn’t know
we were ready to bring you in.” He nodded approval to the boy.
“You did right bringing him here.”

Jimmy laughed. “I was on the
rooftops, watching the whole thing. I knew you wanted him in as soon
as you grabbed the other two.”

One of the men swore. “You’d
better not have been trying for a boost without writ from the
Nightmaster, boy.”

Cook raised his hand, and the man fell
silent. “It will not hurt for you to know that some here are
Mockers, others are not, but we are all united in an undertaking of
great importance. Mark me well, Arthur. Your only hope of leaving
here alive rests upon our being satisfied you do not endanger that
undertaking I spoke of. It may be Radburn’s interest in you is
only coincidental to his interest in other matters. Or there may be a
weaving of threads here, some pattern as yet unseen. In any event, we
shall have the truth, and when we are satisfied with what you have
told us, we shall set you free—perhaps even aid you and your
companions—or we shall kill you. Now start at the beginning.
Why did you come to Krondor?”