The Yellow silk r-4

by Don Bassingthwaite

  Tycho's eyes went wide. "I've heard that's a fantastic journey!"

  Li shrugged. "It has its wonders. I was in such haste that I barely noticed the months g6 by. I arrived in Telflamm only a few tendays ago and sought out Fa Pan." He sighed and forced his fist to relax. "He had died not long after he sent his letter. I was fortunate, though, that he had included distinct descriptions of the pirate captain, a sorceress-and her mate, a one-eyed halfling." He nodded in response to Tycho's raised eyebrow. "Brin, of course. The people of Telflamm are more used to Shou than the people of Spandeliyon. I was able to speak with people who recognized Fa Pan's descriptions. They identified Brin, his captain, and the ship they sailed on, a vessel called the Sow."

  "I've heard of Sow," said Tycho sharply. "Black sails, wallowed like a pig, but stealthy and with ice magic behind her. She was a terror a couple of years back."

  "Then maybe you also heard what I did in Telflamm: that the Sow vanished last winter. The people I spoke to told me that it was assumed the ship went down in a winter storm or maybe had been sunk by the Aglarondans. No one had heard anything of her-except for one man who had heard a rumor that a one-eyed halfling had taken up residence in Spandeliyon." Li spread his hands. "That's why I need to talk to Brin, Tycho. He's the last one who might know what happened to Yu Mao."

  The Shou fell silent. Tycho let out a slow breath. "That's it?" he asked. "That's all? You really just want to talk to him?"

  Li blinked. "It seems to me that should be enough," he said stiffly.

  "Li, the way you acted when you walked into the Wench's Ease last night, I thought you were looking for Brin to try to kill him!"

  "Oh, no," said Li. "I don't want to kill Brin." His mouth twitched into a thin smile. "At least not so far as I know."

  Tycho gave Li a long look over the rim of his mug as he slurped back the last of his soup. "But you don't know. If you found out that Brin had killed Yu Mao " He let the suggestion trail off. Li just gave him a level gaze. Tycho wrinkled his nose. "Ah. I suppose so. Look-" He sat forward. "-even if you don't actually mean Brin any harm, just talking to him could be dangerous."

  Li put his hands flat on the table and looked Tycho straight in the eye. "It's a chance I'll take, Tycho. You know how far I've traveled. Am I supposed to stop now?" He sat forward as well. "I would value your help, but with you or without you, I will find Brin. I get the feeling that he won't be that hard to locate."

  "Aw, bind me." Tycho set his mug down with a thump. By rights, he should let Li blunder off and get himself in trouble-certainly the Shou had brought him nothing but trouble. At the same time, he felt a certain grudging respect for him and his commitment. He sighed. I'm going to regret this, he thought to himself-and nodded. "I'll help you."

  The Shou broke out in the first wide and genuine smile Tycho had seen from him. Tycho held a warning hand before he could get too happy, though. "But," he said firmly, "this is how we're going to do it." He jerked a thumb at himself. "I'm going to make inquiries. Something discrete. Throw out a line and see if I can arrange a meeting with Brin for you. It might make him feel more like talking civilly than having a big foreigner stalking him around Spandeliyon will."

  Li's smile tightened slightly. "Don't mention Yu Mao." Tycho looked at him quizzically. "I want to ask Brin about Yu Mao myself," said Li stubbornly. "I don't want to give him time to prepare any stories or explanations." Tycho shrugged then nodded. Li's smile bloomed again, even wider this time. He bent himself in a little half-bow over the table. "Thank you, Tycho. I wish there were something more I could offer you-if Lander hadn't robbed me, the reward I mentioned last night would be yours."

  Tycho snorted and picked up the last morsel of pie. "Well, that reward was as good as stolen as soon as you said the words last night at the Ease. That was stupid."

  "What good is a reward if no one knows it's available? " Li folded his hands. "Besides, it was well hidden. If anyone has my coat, they're probably walking around with a small fortune and aren't even aware of it."

  Tycho blinked. "What was this reward?" he asked around the pie.

  "I had three fine rubies sewn into the lining of my coat," said Li. "I thought they would be safe. I underestimated the desperation of thieves in Spandeliyon."

  Suddenly the pie was dry in Tycho's mouth. "Three rubies?"

  "I would have given one as a reward last night. To you, Tycho, I would give all three."

  Fingers shaking, Tycho reached for his pouch and pulled out one of the gold coins Mard had given him, hesitated for a moment, and pulled out the second as well. Hiding them with his palm, he slid them across the table to Li. "Lander," he said as casually as he could manage, "usually sells stolen goods to a fence named Giras." He pointed. "You'll find his shop three streets that way and two back toward dockside. Go see if he still has your coat."

  Li's eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

  "You didn't ask," said Tycho quickly, "and we were talking about other things. I would have suggested it anyway, though." Li's expression conveyed disbelief. "Really!" Tycho protested. "Remember, I said I'd help you before you said anything about a reward."

  Li grunted. "That's true." He nodded. "All right." "Besides, the clothes you're wearing now stink." Tycho stood up and slapped payment for their food onto the table-top. "Look," he told Li. "You go get your coat back-and anything else you can, too." He dredged his pouch for any remaining coins and came up with a scant handful of copper and silver. He gave them all to Li. "Try to be discrete about it. Then go back to the Wench's Ease and wait for me. I'll meet you there later with news." Li stood up as well. "Thank you, Tycho." "Thank me when you've had your talk with Brin, Li." They left the pie shop and Tycho made sure Li got started in the right direction before turning and going the other way. Once the Shou was out of sight, though, he swiftly changed direction and headed down toward dock-side, whistling as he walked.

  Three rubies for a conversation. That was a very good deal. He tapped the tin tube tucked into his coat. It was high time to deliver the beljurils to their waiting-and not especially patient-new owner.

  He was even still whistling when he walked through the door of the Eel.

  Lander choked as his spade broke through the icy crust and exposed another soft patch of slowly decaying pig dung. He gasped against the stench and levered the spadeful of manure up and into his wheelbarrow. The relief as the load slid off was like a small blessing; the spade seemed to rise up an extra foot on its own. Lander swung it back to the ground, letting the blade bang down into the filth, and leaned for a moment against the handle.

  "Did I tell you to take a break, Lander?" Brin's rich voice was punctuated by the hiss of his switch through the air. Lander stifled a groan and scraped up another load of manure. As Brin's punishments went, mucking out his sty was one of the more pleasant. That didn't mean Lander liked it. His arms, shoulders, and back burned. He was sweating like… well, like a pig. In spite of the cold, his mantle and outer shirt were flung across Brin's table, draped over the damn Shou saber. He knew he should have sold it to Giras! What had keeping it gotten him? A frantic search through dockside in the middle of the night. Another search this morning, combing the streets all the way up into middle town. He'd even made contact with the usual bodysnatchers, unpleasant specimens who would be better off dead themselves. Even they hadn't seen anything of Li Chien's body though. And Brin had ordered him to not bring his men in on the search. Lander knew what that meant: the halfling wanted to keep his interest in the Shou quiet.

  Since early afternoon, however, he'd been shoveling manure. Brin might appreciate hard work, but he still didn't like failure. Lander snuck a look over his shoulder. Brin was sitting on the table again, a tankard of the Eel's ale beside him and his switch in his hand. He was tickling Black Scratch under the chin. The boar ignored him and just sat like some weird beast-king, surveying the other pigs that trotted around the sty. Every so often, he would stretch out his neck and snuffle at Lander's mantle and s
hirt. "Put your filthy snout in those," grumbled Lander under his breath, "and you'll be Black Sausage by dinnertime." He bent and scooped up more manure. At least he was almost finished, though gods only knew if Brin was finished with him.

  The back door of the Eel opened and Tycho Arisaenn stepped out, a repulsively smug look on his face. He saw Lander and smiled. "New job, Lander? It suits you."

  The sound of Tycho's voice brought a chorus of happy squeals from Brin's pigs. The ones already in the sty ran across to greet him. Lander turned around just in time to see more come tumbling out of the covered shelter, woken from their afternoon nap. Suddenly they were pouring across the sty in a fat wave of swine-flesh. Lander yelped and scrambled out of their way.

  His wheelbarrow wasn't so lucky. The hindquarters of one scrambling pig banged into it, setting it swaying. A second impact knocked it over and dung went spilling across the ground. Lander ground his teeth together, too angry even to curse. Tycho broke off his fond greeting of the pigs that swarmed around him to look up and smile again. "Sorry," he apologized. There wasn't a trace of sincerity in his voice. "You know how they are around me."

  Tycho had sung to the pigs once. Once. It had been eerie to watch them all standing around and listening to the bard like some audience at a fancy concert. Now they acted as if he were their best friend whenever he came around. Fortunately, Lander wasn't the only one who found Tycho as annoying as an infestation of fleas. Black Scratch snorted and trumpeted loudly, trotting across the sty with his bristles up and his tail stiff. The other pigs scattered before their true king. Lander scowled at Tycho as he righted the wheelbarrow and grabbed the spade again. "I'd like to see you give that one a serenade some time," he snarled with a nod at the boar.

  "Lander," said Brin, "just clean that mess up." The halfling leaped down from the table and came across to Tycho. "You're late."

  "I was held up. I ran into trouble with Mard Dan-takain-not over the delivery!" he added hastily. He pulled a tin tube tied with green cord out of his coat. "I'm going to have to work out a new way to meet with Jacer-ryl, though." Brin just shrugged as he took the tube.

  "That's your problem, Tycho. You move between dockside and hightown easily enough, but there are other people who can do the same. Just don't let me down; tell me I need to replace you before I find out from someone else." He turned and started back to the table. "You can collect at the bar as usual on the way out. Four gold. I don't like late deliveries."

  Lander flashed a grin at Tycho as the bard's face twisted. Tycho caught the grin and scowled at him. "Keep shoveling, Lander," he hissed. Lander flicked a bit of manure at him. Tycho dodged it neatly and took a few steps farther into the sty. "Brin," he said, "I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

  "I don't do favors," Brin replied, tugging on the cord around the tube. "They cost too much." He turned around and looked up. "Ton asked me for a favor once. I think you knew him. Shame about him and Ardo, isn't it?"

  Lander was pleased to see Tycho stiffen. The curly-haired man managed to keep his voice level, though. "It's not about coin. It will only take a bit of your time-a little storytelling, really."

  "You're the storyteller here." Brin dropped the cord to the mucky floor of the sty and pulled out the cork that sealed the tube. "Why do you want me to tell you a story? " His fingers dipped into the tube and drew out a piece of silk.

  "Not me," said Tycho as Brin flicked back the folds of silk. "There's-"

  The silence that fell between the halfling and the bard was solid like a wall. Both seemed frozen, staring down at the silk in Brin's hand. Lander dropped his spade and crossed the sty with two long steps to look as well.

  Lying on the silk were half a dozen pieces of ordinary white gravel.

  "Oh, bind me," Tycho whispered in horror. "Bind me, bind me, bind me "

  "Where are my beljurils?" bowled Brin. All around him, pigs squealed and ran. Even Brin flinched away. Tycho turned pale and stumbled back. Brin lunged after him, flinging away the tin tube and jumping up to grab a fistful of Tycho's coat front. It should have been a ludicrous sight-the tiny halfling raging at a human who was almost twice his size. Somehow, though, it wasn't. Brin's weight dragged on Tycho, forcing him to bend almost double. Suddenly Black Scratch was there as well, snorting and scraping his hooves through the muck. Other pigs were closing in, too, following the boar's example and turning on their one-time friend. Lander stayed well back.

  "They were there, Brin!" Tycho insisted. "They were there, I swear it!"

  Brin's hand twisted the silk closed around the gravel and drove the bundle straight into Tycho's face. "Do those feel like beljurils to you?" he screamed. He hit Tycho again. "Do they?"

  Tycho tried to reach forward and tear Brin away. The halfling just swung himself up off the ground and planted a foot hard in Tycho's gut, dropping down again as he staggered back, gagging and gasping for air. "Where are they?" Brin screamed.

  "I don't know!" choked Tycho. He tried to scramble back to his feet, but Black Scratch was right there. Tycho sank into a crouch, eyes on a level with Brin's. "Bind me, Brin, I don't know. They were there. In the tube. I checked them with Jacerryl when he passed them to me. He can tell you that." His tongue licked out, smearing blood on his lips. "In the jail. Someone must have taken them while I was in jail."

  "You were in jail?"

  "I told you, there was trouble with Mard Dantakain!" TVcho shouted back. He was trembling. "I've been in the middle town jail for most of the day! Brin, you know I wouldn't try to cheat you!"

  "I have buyers waiting for those beljurils." Brin stalked forward. His hand snapped out and closed on Tycho's chin, pulling the bard forward so they were nose to nose amid the snorting pigs. "You lost them. You find them."

  Tycho swallowed. "Brin-"

  "Can you pay for them? " Brin searched Tycho's eyes. "I don't think so. I can't even sell you to slavers for the price of those gems. Find them. You've got until noon tomorrow." He leaned back and forced Tycho's head around until he was staring into Black Scratch's yellow gaze. The boar huffed and long strands of foamy saliva sprayed across Tycho's face. "If you don't have the gems back, I'll take up Lander's suggestion and let you try a serenade on Black Scratch." Brin leaned in close again. "I should warn you that he doesn't have much of an ear for music."

  He thrust Tycho away and the bard went sprawling back across the sty. For a moment, he just stared at Brin in panic then he twisted to his feet and scrambled for the door back into the Eel. "Through the alley!" Brin spat at him. "Through the alley!" It was too late-Tycho was already through the door and running through the Eel. Over the noise of the pigs, Lander caught the shouts and exclamations from inside as he fled.

  "Bugger," grumbled Brin. He turned around and flung the bundle of gravel hard against the nearest wall. Pigs squealed and darted away from the splinters of rock that came spraying out of it. "Lander! Are you done yet?"

  Lander jumped for his abandoned spade. "Almost, Brin!"

  "Leave it. Get back out there and find me Kuang Li Chien. Alive or dead, he has to be somewhere. And while you're out, find Desmada and see what she knows about Tycho being in jail." Lander blinked at the command and dropped his spade again, reaching instead for his shirt, mantle, and the curved saber. Brin rubbed Black Scratch behind the ears. "I don't like having this many loose ends floating around. They tend to get tangled up."

  "Sir," said Giras the fence in an offended voice. "Are you trying to ruin me?" He flicked a finger at one of the gold coins Li had laid on the shop counter. "Such fine quality work as the items you request is not easily come by. And so exotic!"

  "I told you," Li hissed between his teeth. "All of those things are mine! " He jabbed a finger around the shop. His boots. The sleeve of a shirt poking out from a pile. His hat resting on the head of some kind of stuffed bird. "They were stolen from me last night!"

  Giras's eyes narrowed and his voice took on a harsher edge. "And I told you, sir, those items have been in my shop for mont
hs, sold to me by a trader from the Shou-towns of Thesk. If you're accusing me of dealing in stolen goods, I'll thank you to take your custom elsewhere." His fingers played across the gold. "Now, if you like, I could perhaps make you a special offer. The boots you so admired, a pair of pants and a shirt for-"

  Li reached out, grabbed Giras by the back of his neck, and bashed his head down against the counter. As the fence staggered back, one of the gold coins stuck to his forehead, Li whirled on the muscle-bound guard standing by the shop door. The man was already lumbering forward, hand reaching for a stout club. Li ducked in close and struck him hard twice, once under the chin and once on the side of the neck. He dropped with a thud that shook the floor. Li turned back to Giras, seizing his collar and dragging him to his feet. "I think two gold is more than fair for stolen goods," he said gruffly. "Do you agree?"

  Giras nodded eagerly. Li thrust him at the nearest stack of goods. "Dig out the things you bought from Lander last night. All of them."

  He stripped off the clothes he had stolen that morning and put on his own as fast as Giras could produce them. Spare clothing and other goods piled up on the counter. Li sighed with relief as he pulled on his own boots, properly fitted and without holes, and looked up at Giras. The fence had stopped and was standing beside the counter, rubbing at the deep, red impression the coin had stamped on his forehead. Li looked at the pile of goods and frowned. "There should be a coat and a dao." Giras blinked at the word. "A sword," snarled Li. "A great, heavy, curved sword that could cut through your thieving neck in one stroke."

  "I don't have it," Giras whimpered. "Lander wouldn't sell it to me. He kept it. The coat I sold this morning-to one of Lander's men." Li scowled and Giras cringed. "I didn't know you'd be coming in!"

  Li growled and reached for the foul coat he had just discarded. Tycho would have to wait for the rubies. "I need a weapon then." Giras cringed again.