Terrier

by Tamora Pierce

  “I don’t care if she’s a knight in armor. We’re workin’ folk here, and my sister’s a respectable mot, not some Rovers Street trull.” Yates smirked at his friends. He thought he’d become a wit. “Buy or shake your wares someplace else, wench.”

  I set my loaves on the counter and my coins beside them. “Gemma, have I got the right change?” I asked. I began to tuck the loaves into a pack I’d got at the house, settling them careful so they wouldn’t be crushed.

  She counted and gave back a copper. Her hand was shaking. “Don’t mind Yates, he’s got a rough manner,” she whispered. “He don’t – “

  He knocked her sideways, sending her sprawling on the floor. Now I knew where her bruises came from. “Shut yer gob,” he ordered her. He turned to me and raised his hand.

  I blocked his swing with my forearm, though it jarred my teeth. While he gaped, I grabbed that wrist with my free left hand and yanked him toward me over the counter, jamming my right hip into it to steady myself. When he grabbed at me with his free hand, I seized it and twisted so he’d stop thrashing. Then I rested my weight on my left hand, using it like a lever. The problem for him was, it was his elbow on the edge of the counter at the end of my lever. If he moved, I could throw all of my weight on his wrist and see what happened to that elbow, or keep turning his other hand. If he behaved, all that he got was cramps in his wrists and his right elbow, and some shame before those looking on. If he misbehaved, he would suffer the consequences.

  His friends seemed to think he ought to do something. “I’ve not hurt Yates yet,” I said to them. I felt that same clear-headed bravery that had come on me as I’d chased Orva and fought the river dodgers. “I will if you hurry me. I’m surprised this place gets any custom whatever, with Yates and you being so friendly with customers.”

  Just then I heard a familiar woman’s voice say, “I have to say, I’m not impressed.” Sabine of Macayhill walked to the counter, putting herself between Yates’s friends and me. “I was told I might buy Corus’s best apple-raisin patties at Mistress Noll’s. Nobody warned me about the service.” She looked at me. “Maybe you should kill him. I would.”

  “It’s against the law,” I said, keeping the pressure on Yates. I wasn’t at all sure if she was joking.

  “Oh, I forgot – I’m in Corus again. People care about things like that here. You being a Dog, I suppose you care more than most.” Lady Sabine smiled crookedly at me and looked down at Yates. “She’s a Provost’s Dog, you know.”

  I let him go as I said, “Trainee. I’m only a trainee, excuse me, my lady. But he’s a full-blooded Rat, and no mistake.”

  Yates scrambled away from the counter and us, so fast that he fetched up against the ovens. He yelped and jerked away, rubbing first one arm, then the other. He threw himself toward his friends. They left through the side door, glaring back at Sabine.

  “Please, you don’t know what you’ve done.” Gemma was still on the floor. “They’ll pay you back one night, Beka. Yates, his friends – they be hard coves.”

  Sabine leaned on her elbows. “I told you we should have killed him.” I saw that her brown eyes were just – interested, as if she talked about cropping her hair. “Have you got apple-raisin patties, mistress?”

  “Still warm, my lady,” Gemma told her.

  Sabine laid out her handkerchief. “I’ll take four, if you please.”

  As Gemma opened an oven and laid four patties on the lady knight’s handkerchief, she told me, “I’ll keep tellin’ him you’re with the Dogs now, Beka, but you want to watch for him. And I’ll tell Ma. He listens to Ma.” She curtsied. “Two coppers, my lady.”

  Lady Sabine gave her three. “An unusual sort of baker’s assistant they’re hiring in Corus nowadays,” she remarked. “Very tidy work on the wrist grabs, Cooper. Nice, using the counter to anchor yourself and compensate for your weight difference.”

  I looked down, not knowing what to say. The feeling of doing Dog work had left me in a rush, and I was shy again.

  “I was impressed in that hole on Rovers Street, too. I just think you’ll regret only holding this Yates fellow instead of breaking a joint or three,” she added. “It rarely pays to be easy on that sort.” She pointed a finger at Gemma. “You, mistress, should throw yourself on the mercy of the Goddess’s temple. No woman needs to let a man knock her about as you have done. They will protect you, hide you, even, if need be.” She waited, watching Gemma.

  “You don’t understand, my lady,” Gemma said at last. “I have no choice.”

  Sabine rolled her eyes. “So they all say.” She scooped up her handkerchief and its contents, then took a patty out and bit into it. “Gods, this is good!” she said, her mouth full. She handed me one, and when her mouth was empty, told me, “Mattes was right about this place. So maybe I’ll be back.” She gave me the tiniest of smiles. “And maybe I’ll follow Master Lout to his lair. Dispose of him without your disapproving eyes looking on, Cooper. In the interest of the public good, of course.”

  She left before I thought to curtsy.

  “Lady knights.” Gemma shook her head.

  I looked at her. “What?”

  “They think the river will part for them.” Gemma was rubbing her arms as she looked at the floor. I think she’d forgotten I was there. “She doesn’t know, the men always get their way in the end. That’s why I never married. I see what my sisters get every day.”

  I sighed. I wanted to go home and cuddle my cat. Today suddenly felt longer than all last week. “Would you tell Mistress Noll I said hello?” I asked.

  Gemma looked at me, then turned and opened the oven. “If Yates doesn’t do it first, of course. Good day to you, Beka.”

  I shouldered my pack and left that odd little shop, eating the patty. It was very good. As I finished it, my mind kept circling back to Yates. Does it prosper Mistress Noll to hire the likes of Yates and take delivery from men who look like veterans of the cages?

  Wednesday, April 8, 246

  I was putting the cloth on the floor this morning when I thought, What if the others tire of breakfast? They keep later nights even than I do. What if the fun of eating pasties with Puppy Dogs and the odd older Dog like Phelan is not as good as an hour or two more of sleep? Then Kora, Aniki, Ersken, and Phelan came all at once, and I knew I was a fool. We had barely filled the cups when Verene and Rosto walked through the door, Verene with a basket of extras from her mother’s workplace and Rosto with pickled eggs.

  “I missed breakfast these last two days,” Rosto said, once we were settled. “It’s a nice start to things. Quiet-like.”

  Everyone nodded, mouths full. Even I had to agree. I felt easier here, with half of our number on the other side of the law, than I’d felt at Provost’s House.

  “Did they admire your bruises?” Verene asked me. “Did they want all the details of the fight? Because you ne’er told us. You were too giddy with the healin’.”

  “You had a lady knight,” Aniki said, feeding sausage to Pounce. “Lady Sabine. A bunch of the bully boys who came by Dawull’s court last night and the night before looked like they’d been mule-kicked. They said her and a bunch of her friends who just came back from the east bailed out you and your Dogs.”

  I snorted and almost choked. “It was just my lady on her own, and my Dogs, and me. They wished it had taken more than the four of us,” I replied. As Aniki lifted Pounce in the air, my own curst honesty made me add, “Actually, mostly it was her and Tunstall and Goodwin. I did a bit, but they did the true damage.”

  “Don’t go all modest,” Ersken said as Aniki kissed my poor cat’s head. “By rights all of you should have been killed. My Dogs say someone ought to do the city a favor and burn the Barrel’s Bottom down, there’s so many fights there. The Night Watch calls it ‘the Barrel of Blood.’”

  “My Dogs say your Dogs allus do stupid things like that, to make the rest of us look bad,” Verene said. I glared at her. She held up both of her hands. “I’m just tellin’ you what th
ey said.”

  Phelan slung an arm around Verene’s shoulders and kissed her temple. “Your Dogs are worthless scuts, sweeting. Don’t listen when they talk scummer like that. Study the good pairs, like Beka’s Dogs.”

  Verene batted her eyes at Phelan. “That bein’ you and your partner?”

  Phelan laughed. “We aren’t even nearly so good.”

  “Why try, when it’s such an uphill battle?” Rosto asked, and yawned. “When you get in trouble someplace like the Barrel’s Bottom, and other Dogs take forever to come to lend a hand?”

  I nudged him with my foot. “Why take the trouble to serve any of the Rogue’s chiefs when they won’t fight to move up at the Court?” I asked him. “Because you’re a rusher. Because we’re Dogs.”

  “You speak of bein’ a Dog like it’s somethin’ that’s in the blood,” Verene said with a laugh. “I just didn’t want t’ fish!”

  “It’s in Beka’s blood,” Ersken said. “And I have to tell you, I get to meet more interesting people this way.”

  “And Beka will never change her mind?” Rosto asked, trying to hold my eyes with his dark ones. “Never, ever?”

  I looked back, even though his way of looking at me makes my skin prickle all over. I’ve had a sweetheart or two, but none of them gave me the tingles like Rosto. He’s bad for you, I keep telling myself. Bad, bad, bad.

  From somewhere I sucked the words out of my gut to tell him, “The only ones who fitly punished a cove who treated all my family like garbage was the Dogs, Rosto the Piper. Did you know folk have gone to the Rogue for justice when their children were kidnapped, and he’s done nothing?”

  “Nor did the Dogs,” Phelan said. “I’d’ve heard if we sought kidnappers in the Lower City.”

  I looked at Phelan. We’re going to,” I promised him. “That’s what makes us different. We’re outnumbered, and not all of us care. But eventually some of us will do what’s right.”

  Aniki smirked. “That’s sweet, Beka.”

  Rosto nodded. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  Verene yawned. “Too serious. Let’s feed the nasty birds afore they come in and swipe our food.” She pointed to the windowsill. Pigeons were lined up there, waiting.

  I looked at Ersken and Kora. There was no reading Kora’s eyes as she studied me, and Ersken was tearing up a roll to feed the pigeons. I shrugged and stood. The others would learn or not. I already know the Dogs will take care of the Shadow Snake, sooner or later. It was the same way with the Bold Brass gang eight years ago. The Dogs just need a bit of help sometimes.

  Pounce trotted over to my side. They’ll see, he told me. They don’t know how mule-headed you are.

  It’s not just me, I replied silently, sprinkling corn. There are Dogs who only need an extra bit of help to get started. A little more information in their hands, and they’ll be after the Shadow Snake like lice on hens. And the one who killed those diggers. If I can get that information, so much the better.

  I faced them. “I’ve heard sommat – mentioned it to Ersken, but you all need to know. It’s important.” I said it fast. They were friends, but they might decide I was cracked when I finished talking about this. “Rolond Lofts, Crookshank’s great-grandson, that was kidnapped and killed? He was taken by someone calling himself the Shadow Snake.”

  Phelan snorted.

  I glared at him. “I’ve seen proof, all right? And there’s more. Folk in the Lower City have lost children to the Snake for years – and sometimes got them back. Near three dozen families, mayhap more. The Snake takes the little one and leaves orders to pay up sommat of value or the child dies. They get a week. Them as pays gets their little one back. Them as don’t…Either they see the body, or they never see the little one again. Ever. Up till now it was the poor folk, them who couldn’t bribe the Dogs or the Rogue. But Crookshank – the Snake found out Crookshank has something that would make the Snake really, really rich.” The fire opals, I thought. It can only be the fire opals. If the Snake gets fistfuls of fire opals now, before they’re common on the market, he’ll never have to kidnap poor children again. But Crookshank refused to pay, and Rolond’s dead. The Snake is still about. What if he goes for Tansy?

  “Will you ask about? Find out who fell victim to this piece of pig scummer? Mayhap someone knows sommat, or saw someone. Even if we only know who lost a child, or what the Snake wanted – any knowledge is better than none. I can pass it on to my Dogs.” I swallowed and said something I’d hoped I’d never have to say. “Or to my Lord Provost. Either way, if we hobble the Shadow Snake, whether we’re Dogs or crooked, folk will think well of us for it.”

  There was a very bad moment when I thought they might laugh. When they’d call me troublemaker. When they’d say who did I think I was, me being just a Puppy.

  Kora looked fierce as she turned to Rosto. “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Rosto leaned over and stroked her cheek. “You know we’d help just for your sake, love.”

  Aniki nodded. “We have our reasons. Beyond ambition, that is. We’ll keep our ears open.”

  Phelan rubbed his temples. “Pox, Beka, I just thought it was wild stories. You have proof?”

  I nodded. “My Dogs have proof.”

  Phelan looked down, grim-faced. “I’ll remember where I heard those tales. I’m sorry. I thought…Never mind.”

  Ersken nodded to me. “You already told me about the Snake. Of course I’ll listen and ask.”

  Verene’s eyes blazed. “When we catch this Snake, I’ll make me a belt of his hide. Child killers – it’s sad the Black God shows mercy. They deserve none.”

  My chest felt warm, warm like those times that Pounce comforted me.

  I like having friends.

  After my watch.

  When we mustered for watch this evening, I presented my new gear to my Dogs for inspection. “Very nice,” Tunstall said as he eyed the arm guards I had found in the Provost’s House gear room. They fit from my wrist to my shoulder and had tongues that sat over my palm. Some of the metal ribs that fit in sleeves in the padded leather were thin knives. They might come in handy. Better still, a slash like I’d taken in the fight with the river drovers would glance off those guards, cutting only the leather, not my flesh. I’d found a leather sap, too. The pack was my third piece from Provost’s House.

  “There’s another piece of gear you need, particularly for the Cesspool,” Tunstall said as Goodwin checked my sap. He reached in his pack and fished out a metal gorget like him and Goodwin wore. “There’s a cloth pad on the inside, see, to keep it from chafing. You’ll need to wash that now and then. Try it on.”

  Goodwin and the Dogs watched as I tied the curved metal piece around my neck. It was meant to stop a throat cut. I looked from Tunstall to Goodwin. “I can’t – “

  “I said I’d get one,” Tunstall said. “You need it.”

  I opened my mouth to argue again.

  “Shut it,” Goodwin ordered. I did. “You’re our Puppy. That means your neck is our responsibility. Besides, it’s used. Don’t go getting sentimental.”

  “Are you going to admire the jewelry, or are you ready to catch some Rats?” Ahuda yelled. We lined up for muster, even Pounce. He had decided he was part of the Evening Watch.

  We were on our way to the Nightmarket when Goodwin said, “Rosto the Piper killed a cove last night in Prettybone. It was a stupid thing. Looby said Rosto had no right, taking work from Ulsa when there were blades right here in Corus who could do it. Rosto tried to get out of it, my Birdie told me. He asked Ulsa to rule on it, but Ulsa said it had nothing to do with her.”

  “Woman’s responsible for more bloodletting than all Scanra,” grumbled Tunstall. “She could have put a stop to it.”

  “So Ulsa dodged it. Then the cracknob drew his blade. My Birdie says he never even saw Rosto draw his.” Goodwin looked up at Tunstall as our partner began to sniff the air. “Why do you even bother to pretend you don’t want to go straight for the raisin pat
ties? Let’s just visit her booth.”

  I thought of Rosto, flirting over breakfast after killing a man. Even for a rusher, he was a cold one. I am used to thinking of my Cesspool years as hard. Now I begin to wonder what his were like, that even a fresh murder would leave no clear mark on him.

  On the way to Mistress Noll’s, I asked Goodwin, “But he was storying, wasn’t he? Your Birdie? Or someone blocked his view. Saying he never saw Rosto draw his blade is just storying. No one’s so fast for real.”

  Goodwin glanced back at me. “You live in the same house as Rosto, Cooper. You let us know.”

  “Or we’ll find out ourselves,” Tunstall said. “He’s not going to stay in the shadows long, not that one.”

  Mistress Noll was at her stall, kneading bread. She has strong arms. I could see the muscles stand out as she mauled it. “There’s my three favorite Dogs,” she said as Tunstall laid down his handkerchief. “And a lively week you had of it, by what I hear. That Ashmiller mot, the one as struck you, Mistress Clary. What a dreadful thing, to attack your own man and children!”

  “Yet it happens all the time, Mistress Deirdry,” Goodwin said. She leaned on one elbow at the counter, turned so she might watch the passersby. “You know it far better than I. There are all manner of sad tales hereabouts.”

  Tunstall laid down some coppers. “I’m paying this time, Mistress Deirdry. I won’t hear ‘no’ if it comes from your mouth.”

  Mistress Noll smiled at him. “Then I mustn’t say it, must I?” She was just frying the patties, as if she knew we were on our way. “I owe young Beka an apology, or rather, my son Yates does.”

  Tunstall raised his brows at me. “Cooper?”

  I glanced at him, then returned to my own watch of Spicers’ Row. “I saw him and Mistress Gemma when I stopped by Mistress Noll’s Daymarket shop yesterday, Guardsman,” I replied, being formal before the outsider. “We had a talk.” It was a Dog’s way of saying I’d had to get stern, but not rough. “My lady Sabine can vouch for me.”