Bloodhound

by Tamora Pierce

  "Him? He gambles all up and down the river and rooks all the sheeplings that drop into his fambles." Dale shook his head, contempt on his face.

  "What?" I asked. I knew rook was "cheat," but I didn't spend much time in the gambling dens. I usually track tougher game.

  "Cheating all the cityfolk and countryfolk who drop into his hands," Dale said, looking at the gamblers. He smiled at me. "What are you and Goodwin doing on the river?" He found a seat beside Achoo. "And who is this?"

  "Achoo is a scent hound. I'm her handler." Slapper, dozing in the sun atop my trunk, stirred and fluffed his wings. "And that over there is Slapper." The cross-grained creature went back to sleep. I think if I hadn't claimed him, he would have flown at me again. "Me and Goodwin are assigned to Port Caynn for a while, to study their Dogs' methods, since Tunstall's laid up." I wondered if I should say my lord wanted to get me out of the way of enemies, and decided that was the sort of thing he ought to hear from others.

  Dale grinned. "Are you, then? There's a bit of luck! Where do you mean to stay?"

  I shrugged.

  "We've no word yet. They'll let us know. It's good to see you, Master – ?" Goodwin had returned, her belt purse bulging.

  "Dale Rowan," he said, offering her his hand. "It's good to see you again, Goodwin. I was asking Guardswoman Cooper how your partner Tunstall was doing."

  "Master Rowan," Goodwin said. "Will you take lunch with us? My man packed enough for an army. Cooper, open up that basket."

  "Call me Dale, Guardswoman," he suggested, smiling at her.

  As I spread the cloth that protected the basket, Goodwin nudged Achoo aside and folded herself into a tailor's seat on a crate. "Then you'd best call her Beka and me Clary, off duty, at least. It'll be good for Cooper to know someone in Port Caynn. I've friends in town, but she's only been there twice. I doubt she'll get on with the older folk I know."

  "I'd be happy to take Beka around, if she doesn't object," Dale said. "I confess, I had hopes in that direction."

  I stopped in the midst of setting out pasties, about to protest, then remembered I would have to go about the town to obey my orders. The fact that Dale was glad to take me about made me ashamed, because I couldn't go with him honestly. I'd be there looking for colesmiths and those passing coles, of which he might even be one. I would have been glad to see him again for his own sake, with no secrets between us.

  I glanced up. He was smiling at me with those lovely gray eyes all alight. I gulped and opened some wrapped sausages with fingers that trembled a little.

  "I'm shocked you walked away from Arval with a full purse," Dale told Goodwin when the silence went too long. "He doesn't usually let folk leave the game before they've lost all they've won back to him."

  Goodwin smiled cruelly. "I pleaded an errand of nature and gave him the slip. Mayhap he's used to countryfolk who don't recognize those dicer's calluses on his fingers."

  Dale held up his hands for her to inspect. He has very nice hands with long, elegant fingers. I do like a cove with fine hands. "I have a gaming cove's calluses, too, Clary."

  She looked him in the eye. "Do you cheat, then?" she asked bluntly.

  Dale laughed. He laughed, at Goodwin when she was being her toughest! "I don't have to," he said. "The odds are in my favor if I play the games right. The bones fall so many ways every so often. If they're honest, and I keep my wits about me, I've a good idea what my odds are."

  He talked dice games with Goodwin as we made a good meal on what Tomlan had packed. Then the boat's captain took Dale away for a backgammon game.

  Goodwin watched me as I packed up. "He's got a lot of charm. He might also be one of the Rats we seek."

  I looked at her. "Do you believe I'm a fool, Goodwin?" I asked her. I confess, I was hurt she might think it.

  She sighed. "No. Your life might be easier if you were. A fool for love is happier than a Dog with a heart that's all leather." She stretched. "Take a walk around the deck, Cooper."

  I did as ordered, Achoo bearing me company off of her leash. When I found a nook along the rail between two stacks of barrels, I stopped for a moment to look at the river and the trees. To think that people live all their lives out here, far from the people and business of Corus! I think I could go mad, staying more than a short walk from the markets, without the Common to dance on, or the temples and the festivals to ease my eyes when I tire of the everyday sights.

  A hound's yip and a mot's angry screech brought me back to the moment. I'd thought she was used to me enough to stay close. I had thought wrong.

  Away from my nook between the barrels, near the bow, Achoo had spotted a dragonfly. Just as I spotted her, she leaped for it, rising a good four feet in the air. I was impressed. The mot nearby was not. She shrank against the rail as Achoo flopped onto the stack of hides in front of her.

  "Whose animal is this?" she cried. "It's going to attack! Save me!"

  "Achoo!" I cried, running toward my hound. "Achoo, kemari!"

  Achoo scrambled to her feet on the stacked leather and gave me a sheepish look. The woman inched further down the rail toward a well-muscled fellow passenger. "Save me!" she cried.

  "Don' be a fool, woman!" he advised. "Her tail's waggin', or it was until this mot came." The other passengers who looked on laughed.

  I wanted to kiss him, but I had to deal with Achoo. I pointed to the deck before me. "Kemari, right sarden now," I ordered.

  Achoo snapped at the dragonfly that buzzed by her face. It was a halfhearted snap, meant more to show me that she was her own mistress than an attempt to grab the dragonfly.

  "Achoo, either you sarden kemari or it's oatmeal for you for a week," I promised her.

  I don't know if she understood my words or my tone, but she jumped from the stack of hides and slunk over to me, head down, tail between her legs. She knew she had been bad. I put the leash on her. She wagged her tail the tiniest bit, but I shook my head. "You know that you are supposed to come at my first order, never mind that you weren't supposed to leave me in the first place. Don't even try to cozen me."

  "That creature is savage!" cried the mot. "I will report you to the captain for letting it loose on the boat!"

  "Report us, then," I said. "But I doubt he'll be impressed by her viciousness in hunting dragonflies." I gave the leash a small tug. "Achoo, tumit." We left the woman, who was scolding the onlookers while they laughed at what I'd said. I doubted she would say aught to the captain, not when there seemed to be no one nearby who would support her.

  When I went back to our things, I was shocked to find Goodwin busy over needlework. Of all the things I could imagine her doing to keep her hands busy, it had never occurred to me to think of her with needle in hand. Even more startling, she was at fine embroidery, the kind of elegant stitchery that was sewn onto sleeve and tunic hems and collars. I stood for a moment, watching her needle dart as she stitched a pattern of blood-red silk keys between two gold borders. This was expert work, not the kind of craft a woman might do for her own family.

  I leaned in closer. Goodwin wore thin white silk gloves as she stitched. Of course she did. Her work-rough hands would catch at the fine threads if she left them uncovered.

  "Cooper, if you're going to stand and stare, the least you could do is get in the way of the sun and provide me some shade," she told me without looking up. "Otherwise, sit down."

  "I'd no notion," I said without thinking.

  "It's not something I talk of, overmuch. It kept my mother happy, all right?" She said nothing more as I took my seat. Finally, as Achoo stretched out on the deck, Goodwin muttered, "As long as I could do this kind of work, Ma thought I might give over the nonsense of being a Dog and be a proper wife, selling needlework to make a bit of meat money on the side, as she did. After she passed on, I kept it up. It wasn't the coin so much, by then. More like the remembrance of her, and pride in the craft."

  I watched Goodwin's needle dart fish-like, making the red keys rise from the black cloth of the strip she
worked. "My sisters do fancy work," I said after a time. "Mostly for my lady Teodorie, though Lorine wants to make elegant clothes for the nobles."

  "My lord mentioned once your sisters are fine seamstresses. And I've seen your clothes are always well turned out," Goodwin added, eyeing a line of stitches. "You do your own sewing?"

  I nodded. "I do mending for all of us at Mistress Trout's," I said. "Kora does the laundering – well, she has gixies help with it, these days. Aniki sees that the cutlery and blades are sharp for her, Kora, Ersken, Rosto, and me. And she makes sure we've wood for our fires. It evens out."

  "A good arrangement. Will you keep it up when they move into the Dancing Dove?" Goodwin snipped a thread and chose another for her needle. "Or will you move there with them?" She gave me a sharp look.

  Achoo leaned against my side. "Oh, you're a good girl now?" I asked, and scratched her ears. To Goodwin I said, quiet-like, "I don't know, but I don't believe so. That inn's to be the new Court of the Rogue. It wouldn't be right, me living there. I'll stick to Mistress Trout's." I sighed. "'Twill be lonely, though."

  Goodwin set her stitch. "Maybe some more Dogs will move in there. It's not like living across from the old Court of the Rogue, in the middle of the Cesspool. The Dancing Dove is part of the Lower City. You might have better company than you think."

  I shrugged. I would worry about it when my friends moved.

  We'd been silent for a time when she said, "You've been practicing the tale we will tell?" I nodded. I'd thought about it often when I couldn't sleep. "Good," Goodwin replied. "Keep doing that. I've been thinking about our work. There's another thing we should sniff for." I waited as she tied off a knot. Goodwin snipped off her thread, then set the needle down and flexed her hands before she went on. "Where do they get their silver? The brass is easy enough to come by. It's cheap. They can buy a few baskets of brassware in the markets, the stuff that's so battered none will use it, and they have what they need. But silver's another matter."

  "It's only sold by the Silversmith's Bank," I said, remembering our lessons in colesmithing. "The melted silver is molded into ingots. Those are stamped by the Crown. It's illegal to have block silver without the stamp. Anyone who buys more than three ingots has to give their information to the bank."

  Goodwin nodded. "It's the silversmiths the crown's Ferrets will be on first."

  I nodded. The silver- and goldsmiths were always at the top of the list of suspects when the hunt was on for counterfeiters. One time in four a colesmith was a silver- or goldsmith, sad to say. "It may be a silversmith this time," I said.

  "Oh, of a certainty." Goodwin was threading a fresh needle. "That's the quickest question answered. We'll know that within a week. But if it's not – where do the colesmiths get their silver? The mines are all controlled by the Crown. Keep your eyes and nose open, Cooper. If we find that source, we're close to breaking the whole ring. It's good odds we're after a ring, not a lone colesmith."

  I agreed. "No one cove or mot could turn out this many coles alone."

  "Exactly. We're looking for a gang. Don't worry, though, Cooper. The entire hunt doesn't rest on us, remember that. I've heard naught but good of Nestor Haryse. He'll have solid Dogs to help in Port Caynn, and we know who will be working on this thing in Corus. Once my lord convinces the Crown, we'll have the Ferrets on it, too." She looked at me and I nodded. I didn't say I wanted us to be the ones that brought down the game for our hunt. I'm sure she thought so just as much as me. She always says it's a wonder two such eager Dogs get on so well in one partnership.

  "I think I know what the answer will be, but I will ask. Cooper, have you any notion of how to play this new card game, Gambler's Chance?" Goodwin asked, changing the colored threads in her needle.

  I shook my head. "I've heard of it, but I haven't seen it played."

  "Pox," Goodwin muttered. "I would have liked to learn it before I got to Port Caynn." She smiled crookedly at me. "I suppose I'll have to learn it on the fly." We continued to talk over small details of our hunt to come. The sun moved enough to provide us with shade as we made a list of the places we would go in Port Caynn.

  The boat slowed on the lake. We had encountered the clog that began where the lake narrowed and the boats downriver approached the jam at the bridges. I took out my journal and began to write of the first half of this day, to have this much done before we report to the Deputy Provost.

  Goodwin has noticed what I'm doing, but she says nothing. Her fingers dart over her work while her eyes go to dicing games on other boats nearby. Slapper flies now and then for amusement, returning for more food. Achoo sleeps.

  I must finish. I see Dale coming back. At least the next two hours won't be boring, with him to talk to.

  Ladyshearth Lodgings, Coates Lane

  Midnight.

  We did not reach Guards House, headquarters for the Deputy Lord Provost in Port Caynn, until well past four of the afternoon. We'd come in view of the Sunrise Bridge by one, but it had taken us two more hours to glide under that, then the Sunset Bridge, to tie up to the river docks, and see our things unloaded.

  Before we parted from Dale, he'd left me with a list of five places where he might be found.

  "And you'll remember them, right?" Goodwin asked as we watched him angle off through the crowds on the dock. "He's a gambler and he wants to further his acquaintance with you." She glanced at me. "We've begun already, Cooper."

  "I'm not that fond of lying to folk," I told her. "Not telling someone I like why I'm really here is the same as lying."

  "We're on a hunt, Cooper," she said. "When you're on a hunt, you do whatever it takes. Think back to the Opal Murders, and the Shadow Snake. This is the same. Folk will die of hunger if we don't nab these colemongers." Some cove shoved into her, not looking where he went. Goodwin shoved back. "Mind your step, cityman!" she ordered.

  The cove turned on her, hand raised. Achoo was between them in an instant, her lips curled back from her teeth, her ears flat, her hackles up. I moved in next to her as me and Goodwin quickly checked our purses, in case he'd been a foist. Our coin was safe.

  The cove spat on the dock and retreated.

  "Beggin' yer pardon, mistress." A thick-built cove had come up to us. He touched his broad-brimmed hat. "Master Dale Rowan said yeh needed a carter t' carry yer things wherever ye're wishful t' go. He give me a siller noble for th' work, mistress." He grinned, showing blackened teeth. "Though ye're welcome t' give me a bit of extry consideration, like."

  Goodwin eyed the cove. "Dale Rowan sent you. And how do you know him?"

  The carter looked surprised. "Ev'ryone on the docks knows Master Dale, mistress. He's on an' off th' river once or twice a week some weeks, mayhap more. He's an open hand with th' coin, is Master Dale. Tips on the races, too."

  "Free with coin and a gambler," Goodwin said, hands on hips. To look at her, you'd think she commanded a household and children for her day's work, and never missed a speck of dust. "His wife must be one discontented woman."

  Our bluff cove laughed at that. "Master Dale's not married, so his coin's his own, and his nights too," he told us. "It'd take a curious kind o' mot t' keep his interest for more'n a week! Now, mistress, will yeh be havin' that help? I'd hate to give his siller back."

  He gave us a funny look when Goodwin directed him to Guards House, but shrugged and said it was all the same to him.

  Our carter negotiated several narrow streets behind the docks. At last we made the turn onto Kings Way, the broad, open way that was what the Olorun Road became when it entered Port Caynn. Three carts could pass down the street without hindrance, which was a fine thing, because it was thick with horsemen, sedan chairs, herdsmen taking their flocks home, vendors, and all kinds of folk on foot. There were far more people here from foreign places than in Corus. The sight of all those Yamani, Scanran, Copper Isle, and Carthaki faces and costumes took me back at first. There were also more Bazhir in the port city, come with horses, goats, and sheep to sell or looking fo
r animals to buy. I'm sure there were Gallans, Tusainis, Barzunnis, and Marenites, too, but they tend to look more like us than the others.

  Quick enough I spotted some filches and cutpurses, then a clump of doxies and spintries on a corner by their bordel. I began to feel more at home. The mumpers had their posts on the ground. The best way to see them was on the bridges. I had forgotten how many bridges there are in Port Caynn. If the bridge is big enough, as they are on Kings Way, folk set up businesses there, like the mumpers.

  I picked out servants and Rats trying to pass as servants for purposes of burglary. Best of all, I saw Dogs, strolling along with batons swinging, eyes on everyone and everything.

  "A sharp-looking crew for Day Watch," I told Goodwin quietly.

  "They get the best up on Kings Way," she said. "They put on their good face for the visitors."

  On the cart climbed. We were coming to the only part of town I really knew, since I'd visited it on both my trips here with Lord Gershom. The ridge that divides Port Caynn in two is crowned by High Street. Lengley Castle, where the district governor lives, stands at the south end, overlooking the sea. Guards House is north of the governor's palace. It has a good view of both sides of the ridge, the part where the river docks are, and the part that makes up the deep harbors. Both times I was here, while my lord met with his Deputy Provost in Guards House, I would run up the stairs to the observation deck and look out at both sides of Port Caynn. I'd pretend I was the Rogue or a Deputy Provost.

  As we turned onto High Street, I saw the cold gray stone block of Guards House to our right. I wondered at the strange way they did things here, so different from what I was used to. All of this city's court hearings are done in Guards House. Prisoners stay in each kennel's cages only a short time before they are taken to Rattery Prison, which stands at the north end of High Street. Were I Provost or Lord High Magistrate, I would have arranged things so my Dogs didn't have to travel so far from their kennels and homes to go to court, but every city has its own way of doing things.