by Mary Corran
‘A companion,’ Asher said briefly.
‘Your cashier friend said there’d be something in this for us.’ He was evidently suspicious, peering beyond them to see if it was a trap. ‘Why’d you want us?’
‘I said I needed your help in return for money, and I do.’ Asher touched Mallory’s arm, and he withdrew a large leather pouch from the pocket of his trousers and laid it on the table. ‘This is half. You’ll get the rest in the morning, if you agree.’
‘How much?’ Club asked, fingering the blade in his hands. ‘And what for?’
‘An hour’s work for forty gold apiece.’ Mallory kept his right hand on the pouch. ‘There’s eighty in here, the rest you can collect from my clerk in the morning. It’s ready for you, if I give you the word.’
‘And why should I trust you?’ Club demanded suspiciously. ‘What if the girl’s informed on us?’
‘Why shouldn’t we just take her and give her to the guard?’ Bull asked, a beefy hand creeping towards the pouch. ‘And take this, too.’
‘You’d not get more than a few coppers for her; and you’d not get this at all.’ Mallory displayed his sword hilt. Bull’s questing hand beat a hasty retreat. ‘In addition to this, you can have whatever you can steal. What do you say?’ Mallory looked at Stern. ‘Is it a bargain?’
Stern licked his lips, his gaze drawn to the pouch, narrow features sharp with cupidity. ‘Done.’ He made a mark like a cross on the table, sealing the bargain, then looked at Asher. ‘That’s the end of our quarrel, agreed? You hold no grudge against me for informing on you?’
She nodded, placing her fingers flat on the table. ‘Agreed. And I’ve said nothing about the warehouse, and will say nothing.’
‘You?’ Mallory looked at Club.
‘What d’you want done?’
Mallory shook his head. ‘Only once you accept.’ He gave the bag a shake, producing a satisfyingly heavy clink.
Club held the knife so the point touched the table, then made the same mark with it Stern had drawn. ‘Done. There’s no quarrel between us.’ He shot Asher a look of deep dislike. ‘Bull?’
‘Deal.’ He, too, signed the bargain, Hare following suit after only brief reluctance. Mallory signed to Asher, who leaned forward, keeping her voice low.
‘We need to find a way in to the vintner’s shop next to this inn; we also need to know how easy it is to get out in a hurry, by the garden if necessary, and we need to know now.’
‘Right.’ Without another word, Club got to his feet and made for a door to the left of the inn’s entrance, disappearing from sight.
‘That leads to the stables,’ Stern offered. ‘He’s good, he’ll get what you want. What are you after in this shop? It’s closed.’
‘A girl.’ Mallory saw Hare look puzzled. ‘We think she’s being held in a room at the back, probably the top floor.’
‘What is it — a ransom?’ Bull asked sullenly. ‘You’ll not get much from those folk!’ He spat. ‘There’s no money in this quarter, not since the Oracle trade dropped off. And what makes you think she’s in there, anyway?’
‘It’s not a ransom. The girl is a prisoner, and the rest is none of your business.’ He hoped the explanation would satisfy Bull, who looked as if he might be having second thoughts.
‘Why’d you want us in on this?’ Stern asked Asher. ‘You’ve no cause to do us any favours. What’s in it for you?’
‘You’re the only ones I know with the right — shall we say — skills?’ she suggested. ‘You may be thieves, Stern, but no worse. As I said, I’ll bear no grudge. I’m leaving Venture tonight in any case.’
Hare, who had been observing Mallory closely for some time, said suddenly: ‘I recognize you. I thought I did. You were down at the harbour when the new governor arrived.’
‘Then you can assure your friends they’ll be paid.’ Hare glanced uncertainly from Mallory to Asher, nodded, and was silent. ‘I’ve made arrangements with my clerk; if I give you a word, speak it to him and he’ll pay you the remainder of the money.’
‘Swear it?’ Bull said, in tones of quiet menace.
‘On my life.’ The big man nodded, satisfied. ‘Asher says you’re good in a fight.’
‘Fair. Club’s better.’ The big man chuckled. ‘You saw those sleeves of his? They’re weighted with metal balls. When he swings them, they go down like ninepins.’
Mallory, who had been intrigued by the extravagantly long sleeves of Club’s shirt, raised an enquiring eyebrow. ‘Old sailor, is he?’
‘Some years back. Said he learned the trick in Petormin.’ Bull plainly admired his friend’s unusual skill. ‘Very useful for a small man like Club.’
‘No doubt that explains his name,’ Mallory observed blandly.
When he returned soon afterward, it was clear Club had used the time to best advantage; he looked eager as he sat down at the table, eyes glowing.
‘There’s half a dozen men in the garden of the shop — mostly armed. The wall between the stables and the garden is manageable down by the river, at a push.’
‘And how do we get in?’ Mallory asked; he had hoped for fewer guards.
Club gave him a nod. ‘Easy as wink, with a bit of help from Hare here. There’s a door in the inn cellar, see, where the landlord gets in — or got — his supplies from next door. Hare can open it quick as you like. All we need is a bit of disruption downstairs — it’s crowded for the fight. Stern can arrange that.’ He was enjoying himself, taking a professional pride in the planning. ‘There’s a boat moored on the river bank at the far end of the garden next door, too. We can use that after if need be.’
‘You think it can be done?’
‘I’ll not say I’m not curious. I never knew guards at a wine shop before, especially not in this quarter.’ Club met Mallory’s gaze with unusual candour. ‘But, yes, it can be done, with our help.’
Asher, who had remained silent, realizing Mallory was better suited to deal with the four than herself, felt a surge of nervous energy; this was their one and only chance. She tried to focus on her gift, to see whether it would show her the most likely outcome, but, as so often, she could make little of the tangled strains.
If Stern had never trapped her into his thieving, they would have had no chance at all. It was as if the Fates had planned it all.
‘I would guess we’ve only an hour, Asher,’ Mallory murmured. She nodded, her mouth suddenly dry. To the others, he gestured toward the stairs leading down to the cellar. ‘Now’s the time to earn your fee.’
Club gathered up the heavy pouch, weighing it in his hand, then thrust it down the front of his jacket, ignoring Stern’s hasty protest. ‘Ready.’
*
The cellar was crowded, most of the men gathered around a deep pit dug into the floor from which came full-throated baying and a few agonized yelps. There were two dogs in the pit: one massive brute, white, with a flat face and sides covered with old scars, and another, black, as tall in the chest but less solid, plainly the novice of the pair.
‘The money’s mostly on the white,’ Club murmured as they edged forwards, through the crowd, for the door leading to the shop was on the far side of the pit.
‘What are you going to do?’ Asher asked.
‘Leave it to Stern.’
Hare was in position, the rest grouped round him, hiding him from view. At a gesture, Stern turned toward the pit and whispered something in the ear of a tall man watching the fight with an anxious eye; he muttered something in return. Stern moved away and repeated the exercise a few more times as the yelps from the pit increased in volume. Asher was glad she could not see what was happening, finding such entertainment obscene.
A shout went up from one corner.
‘The fight’s a fix — the black’s been doped!’
Other voices took up the cry — mostly, Asher guessed, those who had wagered the black to win — opposed by the larger section of the crowd favouring the white. Within a short space of time a different sort of fig
ht was underway, the crowd transformed from spectators to participants in what was rapidly becoming a riot. Hare pulled at Asher’s arm, and she obligingly placed the pick-lock in the keyhole of the door; a prickling told her it was warded, but the mechanism was easily disarmed and she nodded, then relinquished her place. Hare had the door open in moments. No one paid them any attention as they slipped through in single file, pulling the door to as Stern emerged from the throng, only a little out of breath; he had picked up an oil lantern somewhere on his travels, which he held up triumphantly.
‘Where now?’ he asked.
The cellar of the wine shop was much as Asher had expected; row upon row of barrels, flanked by racks of empty glass bottles waiting to be filled. The air was cool, the brick floor damp and slippery as she walked carefully toward the stairwell.
‘There’s a lot of stock here for a shop that’s shut,’ Bull murmured, testing one of the barrels and finding it full. ‘What’s our next move?’
‘Up. I don’t know how many people there’ll be on the other floors, and there may be wards. I’d better go first, then Hare.’ Mallory put out a protesting hand, then drew it back. Asher gave him a quick, reassuring smile. ‘There may be guards, too.’
Club unfurled his sleeves and gave both an experimental whirl, adding another arm length to his own; the weights swished loudly. Deftly, he caught the ends and held them ready, then stepped behind Hare.
The door was locked but not warded, and they emerged on to the next floor into darkness, where there was a smell of cooking and spilled wine, slightly acrid. The shop building was shallow, despite its broad frontage, and the open ground floor offered few hiding places; Club, moving without sound, did a quick survey and pronounced the floor empty, but pointed a hand to the stairs.
‘Men up there,’ he whispered. ‘Can’t tell how many.’
Bull was growing impatient. ‘Why’re we waiting? Let’s get on.’
‘I’d better lead again.’ Asher brushed past him, glad Mallory’s presence seemed to have curbed Bull’s excess of familiarity. She felt no warning as she set foot on the stairs and gestured the others to follow, then fell victim to over-confidence as her foot encountered a simple trip wire halfway up. Instantly, a bell rang overhead. Heavy footsteps came from along the passage on the upper floor, and a voice called out: ‘Ware, intruders!’
I never thought of anything as prosaic as that — stupid of me. Asher stepped back, knowing herself useless in a fight.
‘That’s torn it,’ Club said calmly.
Mallory, Bull and Club barely had time to reach the head of the stairs before their opponents came into view; there were six of them in all, but the narrowness of the passage permitted only three abreast: a tall swordsman, a second man almost the Bull’s size, armed with a heavy cudgel, and a knife-fighter whom Club downed with a blow from one of his weighted sleeves before he had time to take up his stance. Behind the first rank posed a second, another swordsman, a longstaff-fighter, and another armed with the short, curved blade used in Asir. Asher, Hare and Stern had perforce to watch, none of them much use against professional soldiers, but Club slipped between the two remaining of the first rank while Mallory engaged the swordsman and Bull, with a look of pleasurable expectation, closed with the large man.
‘What about the guard outside?’ Asher whispered to Stern, keeping an eye on Mallory, who seemed to be coping with his opponent, despite the disadvantage of having his back to the stairs.
‘Bull and Club’ll have this finished soon then they can guard the rear. You watch.’ Stern’s confidence in his associates was justified by Bull’s rapid victory over the cudgeller before he moved down the passage to assist Club, to whom the longstaff specialist posed something of a problem. Mallory, having disarmed his opponent, promptly knocked him hard on the head, leaving only two of the guards standing.
‘Mallory — that’s Jerr!’ Asher called out to him, for she had only just seen the second man standing guard in the passage, which was rather dark. At her cry, both men looked up, just as one of Club’s whirling sleeves caught Jerr on the side of his head; he fell heavily to the floor and did not stir.
‘I can’t kill him for you,’ Mallory said grimly, as Bull dealt with the last, now demoralized, guard. ‘Not unconscious, much though he deserves it.’
‘No.’ A primitive lust for vengeance swept through her, but Asher struggled not to succumb, not to prove herself as low a creature as the downed man. Let the Fates deal with him, she told herself fiercely; no one so purely evil could play the odds forever.
‘Bull, Stern.’ Club was beckoning. ‘We go down,’ and he pointed, ‘and keep off the others.’
‘All right.’ Mallory reached out a hand to Asher. ‘You, and Hare — quickly. We’ve not much time left.’
Asher followed him down the corridor; the floorboards were bare and gave out protesting creaks as they walked. The guards had been engaged in a game before their arrival, evidenced by overturned chairs and a table littered with cards thrown face-down in one of the rooms to the left.
‘I’ll see if these stairs are passable.’ Asher turned the corner, her heart thudding noisily, and put her foot on the first stair, but no prickling of her skin gave warning of Lassar’s work. ‘All right — come on,’ she called back.
The landing at the top of the flight was narrow, with two doors leading from it, one straight ahead and one to the left; the choice was simplified by the fact that the door to the left stood open, revealing an empty room. Asher put a hand over the keyhole of the second room, the tingling of her fingers giving a warning. ‘This one’s warded, and I can’t do anything with it,’ she said quietly. ‘Hare, give me your pick.’ He handed her the bunch. ‘You’ll have to tell me how to use it.’
He looked nervously at the lock, then shook himself. ‘I can’t teach you now. If I hold your hand, perhaps I can work through you.’ He had grown very pale, but he shrugged. ‘It’s worth a try.’
‘Thanks.’ She inserted the pick he selected into the lock, then let her hand go loose as Hare’s fingers enclosed her own.
‘Left just a little ... put the pick further in. No, softer. Don’t push.’ A spark leaped from the lock on to Asher’s hand and Hare drew back, only just in time. More nervously still, he resumed his position as the spark died. ‘Nearly there — up a trifle — that’s it!’ A second spark flared into life at the sound of a click; Asher pushed Hare violently back, but not before the lock seemed to explode, sending out a further burst of violet-coloured sparks.
‘Keep back, both of you!’
Mallory was several paces away, but Hare, who had no time to retreat, cried out as two of the sparks landed on his right hand; instantly, their flames expanded until the whole of his hand was briefly enveloped in violet fire.
‘What is it?’ he demanded shrilly, keeping the hand away from his face. ‘What will it do to me?’
‘I don’t know.’ The flames flickered, then went out, but not before Asher saw there was already a perceptible change in the hand itself. The skin had turned bluish-white, and the fingers and thumb were stiffly curved and rigid; Hare tried to move them, but could not.
‘It’s gone numb! What’ll I do?’ He was shaking.
‘Asher, leave him. We haven’t time for this. We have to get the girl.’ Mallory took the trembling Hare by the arm and moved him out of the way.
‘Don’t come any nearer,’ Asher warned. ‘We don’t know what else is here!’ She turned the handle, and the door opened.
The room thus revealed presented an astonishing sight; where the rest of the house was poor, no luxury had been spared in making this one place fit for Avorian’s betrothed. A rich silken carpet, bordered with gold, covered the wooden floor, and costly tapestries hung on two of the walls. The bed was immense, taking up most of the space, both head and base ornately carved and gilded; it was spread with a cloth of gold brocade far too opulent for the scale of the room.
Outside it was dark, but it was bright inside the room,
for a dozen or more wax candles burned in a pair of ornate candelabra which stood on a small table by the bed. By their light, Asher could see not only the slight figure lying motionless under the covers, but also her guardian, an immense woman, larger even than Carob, who sat on a stool beside the girl, hands neatly folded in her lap.
Mallory made a move, but Asher stepped in his way. ‘No. Don’t go in. Who knows what other tricks Lassar has left in here. Stay, and I’ll bring her to you.’
‘Come in, missy.’ The large woman got to her feet, beckoning; her face was a florid moon, her hands almost as big as Bull’s. Her vast bulk was wrapped in a mass of white material — too shapeless to be termed a dress — but it was at her hands that Asher looked; they were red and massive. ‘Come and get the girl, if you want her,’ the woman went on, in a pleasant, country voice, smiling her invitation. ‘If you can, that is.’
‘Let me take her.’ Asher stepped into the room. Despite the presence of Mallory and the others at her back, she found she was very frightened.
‘Lassar said it would be a girl who came if anyone did, another child of Fortune like me.’ The big woman waggled a reproving finger. ‘You were wise not to let the others in; none of your friends can help you here. This is between us two.’ She glanced at the still figure on the bed, then back at Asher, adding conversationally: ‘And if you try to take the girl, I’ll break your neck!’
‘Keep back, Mallory.’ Asher knew him too well to hope he would keep out if he thought her in danger. She looked at the woman’s hands and thought she could easily carry out her threat; they looked horribly strong, quite capable of closing round a neck. She swallowed.
She took two paces forward, at a loss to know what to do; she had no fighting skills, no means to guard herself against the large woman’s superior reach and strength. The girl Menna — Vallis — slept, unaware of the conflict of which she was the centre.
The woman stood facing her and the open door, relaxed and ready. Her hands clasped one another loosely, but when she saw Asher looking at them she mimed an unpleasant squeezing motion.
