"What do they want?" shouted Jewel. I'd never seen the old man so pale before.
"The Shadow Snake!" I shouted. I grabbed one and held it as it pecked and smacked at my face. "They want me to – us to get the Shadow Snake!"
Suddenly they flew to the rooftops. I stood there gawping, a pigeon in my hands. "Now what?" I asked.
"Beka!" a voice I knew shouted from down the street.
I turned to look. Rosto the Piper walked down Koskynen like he owned it. He'd a long cut over one cheekbone. The blood on it was dry, but the cut wasn't that old – mayhap a few hours.
"Guardsfolk," he said, and smiled. "Lovely day for a riot." They glared at him. "Beka, might I have a word?"
"We're on duty, you know," Tunstall said.
"Three companies of infantry just arrived from Riverfort," Rosto said. "They're moving up Mulberry Street. Phelan sent a message to Kora that two companies of cavalry are crossing Kingsbridge right now from the Highfields barracks. Your rioters are going to get crushed. Cooper?"
I looked at my Dogs. Tunstall shrugged. Goodwin gave me a tiny nod.
Still holding my pigeon, I went to Rosto.
"If you wanted another pet, couldn't you ask that cat to get you a kitten?" he wanted to know. "Since he's distributing them?"
I just stared at him. I'd been having a hard week.
"Oh, I can see you're in a mood. What you need is a man."
He seemed more than a bit cracked today. And I couldn't let him talk to me like that. He thought I'd be one of his deadly mots, like Aniki and Kora, though seemingly Kora had changed her man, if not her place with the law.
"How'd you get that?" Even knowing better, I couldn't stop myself from touching his cut.
It's hard to hold an angered pigeon with just one hand. The bird burst out of my grip and smacked us both with its wings. Then it escaped into the sky, its curst ghost laughing.
"You told it to do that," Rosto complained. The pigeon had struck his cut. It opened to bleed afresh.
I gave him my handkerchief. "No, but it was funny. Master the Piper – since you've no last name – I'm on duty. What did you have to say to me?"
Though the cut must have hurt from the pigeon's blow, he'd been smiling. Now the humor left his face. He leaned down and put his lips beside my ear. "Yates Noll," he told me. "One of my people got word to me. He and three hard coves are laired at the Sheepmire. They moved into one of the special sheds two days ago, after dark."
I looked up at Rosto, blinking, my brain scrambling like a rabbit. They had sheds in back of the tavern, I remembered. I'd run past them that night I'd chased Orva Ashmiller down. Mostly they were said to hold goods that the Rogue considered his. It wasn't healthy to inspect them, and the price for leaving them be was part of the weekly Happy Bag.
"You're trying to get me in bloody with the Rogue," I said in his ear.
Rosto kissed my cheek. "Forget Kayfer," he told me. "Do you want Yates or not?" He trotted past my Dogs with a cheerful wave. "Don't mind me," he shouted. "I'm off to chat with Dawull."
Tunstall and Goodwin came over to me. "He looks like a rat with cheese on his whiskers," Tunstall said. "What wickedness is he up to?"
I told them what he'd said. "Please, can we go?" I asked, though it was begging, more like. "You know what'll happen with soldiers' horses in it. We'll risk our nobs along with the crowd. Herun's only got three more days if Crookshank obeys the note. If he don't or if the mob gets 'im...Please, we've got to try!" I had my fire opal tight in my fist. I could feel its edges biting into my glove.
Tunstall rubbed his chin. I heard whiskers rasp on his gloved fingers. "She's got a point, Clary. And just think – the digger case and the Shadow Snake wound up in the same week. That's tidy Dog work for you."
Goodwin gave us both a look that would peel rock. "Now I know why you like having a Puppy so much," she said, disgusted. "It makes you all eager again. Like you were getting bored." She stomped over to the Night Watch Commander.
"She was bored, too. Though I confess, I didn't think Puppies brought such big crimes with them," Tunstall said. "Or found big crimes so quick." He gave me a funny look. I thought there might be shame in it. "Mayhap it's just you see with fresh eyes when you have a Puppy to care for. You see bad business that's been there all along."
I didn't know what to say, so I kept my gob shut. The pigeons wheeled overhead, their wings flapping. Slapper landed near me, stumping his way along as he pecked for crumbs.
From somewhere toward the river we heard the call of trumpets. Toward the palace, we heard trumpets answer. The military was closing in.
Ersken came over to us. "Take me with you," he said. "You're going after Herun Lofts – I want to come, too. I've done as much walking and questioning on this as you three. My Dogs will release me if you say so!"
Tunstall looked down at him. "How'd you know what we were planning?"
Ersken pointed at me. "Look at her eyes! She's got the scent of something. Lately only two things do that to her!"
I could barely stand still. I was just thinking, Dogs be cursed, I'll go on my own and take the consequences, when Goodwin returned. "Let's go, you eager young things. I hope Rosto's tip is a good one. The Commander says to take our shields. Roving parties of looters are escaping the Guard nets." She looked at Ersken, then back at his Dogs. They nodded to her. "Come on, Ersken. We may as well have a Puppy parade."
Ersken only grinned at her.
We grabbed our shields, though I would have been happy to leave the curst heavy things behind. Off we went at a trot, Ersken beside me, Tunstall beside Goodwin. We'd just passed Nipcopper Lane when someone said, "Manh!"
I looked at Pounce. His purple eyes glinted up at me. He looked very pleased with himself as he ran at my side.
The deeper we went into the Cesspool, the quieter it got. Folk were staying indoors. The sky turned a sickly green-gray as deep black clouds climbed high overhead. I thanked Mithros silently. A thunderstorm would dampen the mob and put out any fires that got started. In the meantime, though, the air was thick and sticky. I felt like I was dragging it into my chest.
We'd reached Crow Street when a clutch of twenty-odd looters charged out to meet us. These were the ones smart enough to go around the places where Dogs and soldiers would place traps. They were using the riot as an excuse to rob.
We raised our shields. Ersken and me moved sideways like we'd been taught, getting in a line at Tunstall's right. We smashed into this small mob hard. Clubs smacked my shield. A mot moved around to my side to hit me with a bucket, of all things. I smacked her raised elbow with my baton. She squealed and dropped the bucket, grabbing the elbow with her other hand.
Pigeons flew down to attack the looters, flying into their faces. The looters cursed and yelped, then called on their gods. Before my shield I felt them give way. All four of us put our shoulders behind our shields, ramming ahead. The looters stumbled. One fell under Tunstall's feet. He kicked the lout in the belly. That left the man too busy puking to leap on our backs as we passed.
Behind us we heard the clatter of horses.
I chanced a look to the rear. Four armored knights and ten mounted soldiers rode toward us. "Break," Goodwin said quietly.
We split in the middle, Ersken and me to one side of the street, Goodwin and Tunstall to the other, letting the horsemen ride through. The pigeons flew up out of the way. As the looters ran from the advancing horsemen, Tunstall beckoned to us. He led us into one of the twisty side streets, away from Koskynen.
We saw some who might have been looters after that, but once they glimpsed us, they ran. Any bigger groups, with numbers to give them courage, were looking for richer pickings on toward the markets.
We heard the first roll of thunder as we passed through the sagging gate at the rear of the Sheepmire. The place looked even more depressing than it did at night, crumbling and nasty.
Tunstall motioned for us to put down our shields. Here they would only get in the way.
&n
bsp; We looked around. There was the tavern, half stone and half timber. It had a stable, though I hated to think of horses there. Pigs and chickens did their best in the yard. We saw a chicken coop. The pigeons came to rest on its roof, as silent now as the birds with the diggers' ghosts had been the day before.
Two of the sheds were good only for wood storage. Two more weren't big enough for five men, if Herun was still alive. That left three the size of small cottages. We looked at the first. There was leaf litter at the front and rear doors. Tunstall shook his head. No one had opened those doors in a week at least. Quietly we crossed the yard until we stood between that shed and the one next to it. It looked more promising, it and the one closer to the tavern. These two had clear doorsills.
Tunstall signaled Ersken to check the other shed. As he went running across the open yard I listened at the wall next to me for any leak of sound. I heard men laugh inside just as Ersken shook his head.
Tunstall signaled him back. Goodwin beckoned him around to the rear door. Tunstall and I had the front. Tunstall held out his hand and counted fingers off for me, giving Ersken and Goodwin time to get ready: one, two, three, four, five. Then he hit the door with all of his weight.
Mayhap it had been a strong door. It wasn't up to Tunstall's strength and weight, though. It snapped from its hinges. Three men who were dicing on the floor scrambled to their feet. I lunged at the first with my baton and swung it up under his chin as hard as I could. He dropped and lay still. Behind him, in a corner, I saw a man bound hand and foot and hooded like a hawk. With the cold, clear attention that came to me in a fight, I recognized the embroidery on his tunic. Tansy loved to sew that griffin and flower pattern.
Goodwin and Ersken broke through the rear door. Thunder boomed, shaking the very air. They hit another of the rushers from behind as Tunstall hit him from the front. That one just wilted to the floor. I was on the third rusher. He tried to fend me off with a footstool until I kicked him between his legs. When he doubled over, I struck him down with my baton and tapped his kidneys so he wouldn't rise for a time.
Yates Noll had been sleeping on a cot in the corner. The sister beater and child stealer sported heavy whiskers, and his hair was greasy from lack of washing. As we moved in, he backed into a corner, waving a dagger. He was smiling.
"Drop it," Goodwin ordered. "We arrest you in the King's name, for murder and kidnapping as the Shadow Snake."
"I must stay shadowed," he said, his eyes a-glitter. "Di'n't your little terrier tell you about me? How I'm a hard cove, a cruel one? All the Lower City fears me now. What good is it if I die screamin' on Execution Hill?"
"You've nowhere to go," Tunstall told him. "It's time to answer to Mithros."
"And I will," he said. He thrust the dagger into his throat under his jaw. He did it before we could move, and no amount of healing could have saved him. He bled to death fast, making a frightful mess. I don't think I will ever forget the look in his eyes.
"Good," Tunstall said at last. "Saves the realm the cost of caging and trying him."
"No, it's the execution that's the expensive part," Goodwin said. "Well, and caging him until then. That gets costly."
Tunstall spat on the dirt floor.
Pounce had run over to Herun. Suddenly the ropes slid off Herun's wrists and ankles as Pounce dragged them away in his teeth. Ersken hesitated, then lifted the hood off Herun's head. "Master Lofts? You're free." Herun just stared at Ersken, dazed. Ersken began to chafe Herun's ankles, working the blood back into them. "It's all right." Ersken's voice was gentle. "You're safe. We'll need a report from you, understand. We still have to try these fellows." Pounce clambered onto Herun's lap and began to knead one of his pale wrists, purring. Herun reached out and petted my cat.
Tunstall was already hobbling one of the downed men. I remembered my duty and hurried to help. Yates dead, Herun free...I felt odd. Not quite attached to the world, as if I was a ghost myself. Who would tell Mistress Noll?
"Where's the loot?" Tunstall asked his Rat. "Not here. You weren't dicing for it." We looked at the coppers on the floor.
"Where's the loot Yates got for those kidnapped children?" Goodwin asked as she bound the hands of the second of the three Rats we'd taken. "What did you do with it?"
Ersken hauled the third Rat to his feet. "There wasn't much coin, all told. They could have spent it."
"Yates kept sayin' how we'd never need another job after this," his captive said, his voice bitter. "No more handfuls of coin and bits of jewelry to sell for half the worth – "
"If he'd let us sell," complained Tunstall's captive. "The best stuff just vanished and we'd get paid in coin."
"We'll tell you what you want to know. On'y keep us from the mob," Goodwin's Rat told her.
"We'll think on it," Tunstall said. It took him and me both to haul his Rat up. He was on the heavy side. "Went out and had a look this morning, did you, lads? Got an eyeful of what a mob might do?"
The Rat shuddered.
Goodwin propped her Rat on the wall and started to collect their packs, stuffing whatever might be of use to the Magistrate into them. Ersken went through Yates's pockets and turned his things over to Goodwin. I hobbled our Rats in a string, like slaves.
Tunstall got a horse and a canvas from the inn's stable, and the innkeeper came out to squall. He'd been too afraid to do so while we were making noise in his shed, but now that it looked like we were real Dogs who were taking his horse, he had plenty to say.
Tunstall ignored him. First he wrapped Yates in the canvas. Then he tied the body to the horse's back. I'd've expected a beast to be unhappy near the stink of so much blood, but not this one. I think he might well have been used for such a purpose before.
When the innkeeper protested one time too many, Tunstall grabbed him by the collar. "Come to the Jane Street kennel to fetch it," he said, friendly for all he half lifted the man in the air. "And thank the gods we will give the horse back. Don't try to tell me you didn't know you were hiding wanted men." He dropped the innkeeper. After that, we heard not one squeak more from the cove.
Once we'd gathered all that might be useful, Goodwin handed a pack to Ersken and a pack to me. "It's a long walk back to the kennel in the rain," she said. "Let's see how much of it we can manage before the storm breaks."
I wondered if fish in jelly felt as I did on that walk. We'd finished the Shadow Snake. He was dead, the Lower City safe. These Rats were eager to talk, to be spared the cage Dog torturers and the mob. If they had information of value to trade, they might turn their executions to lifetime labor in the quarries or on the roads of the realm.
That was not my affair. I still had a feeling of things left undone.
Someone would have to tell Mistress Noll that her youngest son was dead. That his presents to her were paid for in the blood of children. Did she suspect? She was a wise mot. She had to think the son who'd never done well in the world had come by pretty things like that lily pendant in some crooked way.
Did he give her only the odd present, or did she get more? My mind showed me pictures with each flash of lightning. It wasn't just that pendant, sommat any son might give his mother, loot that wouldn't fetch much coin from a scale. I remembered the lists of the victims and the prices for their return I had kept for weeks. Among the more than twenty payments I knew of, there had been a spell book. Pearl earrings. Other pieces of jewelry our Rats hadn't kept.
The rain came down in a roar before we reached Crow Street. Even with our shields held over us, we could scarcely see where to plant our feet. Then the hail began, fist-sized chunks of it. We had to protect the horse with our shields, the poor beast. There were no rioters now. They'd fled indoors. We did, too, at the first chance, ducking into a collapsing warehouse. We sheltered there until the hail ended, then trudged on. The closer we got to the kennel, the more we noticed the stench of smoke. There had been fires near the Nightmarket as well as in other parts of the Cesspool. Near Crookshank's house.
The line of Dogs
with rioters to be caged stretched from the kennel to the Nightmarket. We all moaned even as we fell in behind the last pair and their captives. A packed cage wagon rattled past. That meant the Jane Street cages were full. They were sending the overflow straight to Outwalls Prison. The rain poured down. Just when I thought it was easing, I heard the approach of thunder. A fresh storm was coming in.
My Dogs talked with the others that fell in line behind us with their captives. Ersken went off to find his Dogs and returned with news. One of the fires was lit at Crookshank's house. The old man never got out. Two had been trapped with him, but not Annis. No one knew where she was, but the servants that escaped said she wasn't home, nor was Tansy.
Goodwin looked at Herun. "I'm sorry your grandfather's dead," she told him. "Sorry you had to hear in such a way."
Herun was leaning against the wall of a building under the eaves, out of the rain. He only nodded. He'd said little since we brought him out of the shed.
Goodwin's words made me itch under my skin. "May I go to Mistress Noll?" The words just popped out of my mouth. Tunstall, Goodwin, Ersken, even the captives stared at me. "That innkeeper won't keep his gob shut. Even if he does, his servants won't. She did good things for me when I was little. Wouldn't it be kinder for her to hear it from me?"
Goodwin sighed. Tunstall looked at her. "We don't need Cooper to log the prisoners, Clary. And Mistress Deirdry's fed us often enough. She deserves better than hearing it from the nearest busybody. Someone who'll tell her it was worse than it was."
"Do it quick," Goodwin told me.
I gave my shield to Ersken and took off through the rain, splashing water up above my hips as I trotted. Pounce ran next to me. The mud slid off his glossy fur like it was coated with oil.
As the second downpour eased, the pigeons soared along the streets ahead of us. Why were they still with me? Yates was dead.
Mistress Noll made her new home of the last year or so on Whippoorwill Mews and Pottage Lane. It was far better than the place she'd had on Mutt Piddle Lane. That crowded little house had three ovens and a flock of children living all around waiting to grab whatever she made. This place had ten ovens. Her married daughters lived on either side. They helped her. She had hired workers, too, where once her husband had run her business into the ground. He'd never had a head for money matters.
Beka Cooper 1 - Terrier Page 37
