Part 17 (2/2)

Lucas was silent for a moment, rubbing his chin as he considered his answer. ”Can't rightly do that, until I know what's what. I've got obligations, as I'm sure you well know.”

James knew well indeed. Lucas was one of few successful innkeepers in Krondor who didn't have the patronage of a powerful n.o.ble, a guild, or the Mockers. Over the years he had managed to make several useful alliances, including friends.h.i.+ps with several highly-placed n.o.bles in the Kingdom. James he knew from his dealings with the Mockers, yet Lucas had somehow resisted becoming their tool, or coming under their domination. There was something very stubborn in the old man's nature, and it was known without saying that as soon as anyone tried to control him, Lucas could call upon other resources. Ultimately, it was easier to work with Lucas than to try to coerce him.

James had rehea.r.s.ed his speech several times, and after taking a deep breath, he began. ”We both know the Mockers are no longer a major force. And we both know that someone else- this Crawler-is trying to tie up all the dodges and capers in Krondor.”

Lucas nodded.

”We also know that, as far as anyone can judge, the Upright Man is dead.”

Lucas smiled. ”Don't be so quick. He's a cagey one. Maybe the Upright Man's dead or maybe he's just lying low.”

James said, ”Perhaps, but if he's lying low he's as good as dead, because he's let the Mockers come to a messy end.”

”Maybe, or maybe it just seems that way.”

James grinned. ”Anyone ever tell you you're a pain to talk to?”

”Yup,” said Lucas. ”Not too many, though.”

”Look, I need . . . well-placed friends.”

Lucas laughed. ”Well, start with the Prince of Krondor, boy. I can't imagine anyone better placed than him.”

”I mean well-placed within within Krondor. People who are in a position to hear things.” Krondor. People who are in a position to hear things.”

Lucas was silent as he weighed James's words carefully, then he spoke: ”Over the years I've made it a business to be very hard of hearing most of the time, Jimmy. It's why lots of people are comfortable doing business with me. There are them that wants to move cargo without having to deal with the Prince's customs men or the Mockers' fences, and I know the occasional caravan driver heading inland.

”There are those that need to speak to others who want to kill them on sight, and I can sometimes get them together without bloodshed. Things like that.

”But all that goes to naught if anyone thinks I've turned snitch.”

James said, ”I'm not looking for snitches, Lucas. I've got enough of those on every street corner. I need something more, someone I trust. I need good information, not rumors or lies fas.h.i.+oned to earn some coppers. Moreover, I need someone, after all is said and done, who is my man, no matter what he's telling other people.” He looked at Lucas and said, ”I think you understand what I'm saying.”

Lucas was thoughtful for a moment. Then he sighed and said, ”Sorry, but I could never be no man's spy, Jimmy. That's too dodgy a path, even for the likes of me.” He moved away and went behind the bar. ”But I'll tell you this. I'll never work against the Crown. I was once a soldier and my boys died for the Kingdom. So, you have my word on that. And if I catch a hint of anything like that, well, let's say I'll make sure you find out quick. How's that?”

James said, ”It'll have to do.”

”Would you like an ale?”

James laughed. ”It's still a little early for that. I'll just take my leave. When Talia and William return, tell Will to return to the garrison and report in, will you?”

Lucas said, ”About that young fellow . . .”

”Yes?”

”He's a good sort, right?”

James said, ”Yes, he's a good sort.”

Lucas nodded, then picked up a rag and started polis.h.i.+ng his bar. ”Just that . . . well, like I told you, Talia's all I've got left. Want to see she's done right by, if you see what I mean.”

”I see what you mean,” said James, grinning. ”If any one will do right by her, William will.”

Lucas glanced up. ”Father's a duke, you said?”

James laughed and departed, waving good-bye to Lucas.

William felt flushed and a little giddy, and couldn't quite decide if he was in love or just overtired. He'd had numerous conversations with his parents on the subject of men and women and their relations.h.i.+ps, as well as hearing plenty of opinions from the academy students at Stardock as he grew up. In many ways he was far more acquainted with the theory of romance than many young men his age, but far less practiced than most.

As Talia chattered on about the current gossip, he tried to keep interested, but his mind wandered. He had known girls all his life, starting with his adopted sister Gamina. But while he had had many female friends as a boy, he had only thought himself in love once before.

He tried to push the image of Jazhara aside, and the more he tried, the more vivid she became in his mind. Four years older than William, she had come to study at Stardock when he was eleven years old. That had been half a lifetime ago, he realized.

She had been aloof at first, a Kes.h.i.+an of n.o.ble birth who had eventually put up with his childhood infatuation with good grace and even, occasionally, flattered amus.e.m.e.nt. Then the year before he left for Krondor, things had changed. He was no longer an awkward boy, but a strong and intelligent young man and for a brief time his interest in her was returned. Their affair had been stormy, intense, and ultimately painful for William.

It had ended badly, and he was still unclear as to what had made their relations.h.i.+p so rocky, and until he had learned that she was being sent to Krondor he had thought he might never discover the reasons why she had pushed him away. Now he considered the prospect of meeting her again with dread and some excitement.

”You're not listening.” Talia's voice penetrated his reverie.

”Sorry,” he said with a smile. ”I haven't had much sleep the past couple of nights.” When she frowned, he quickly added, ”Business of the Crown.”

She smiled and held onto his arm as they approached the market. ”Well, enjoy the suns.h.i.+ne and we'll just pretend the Prince and his business are very far away. And promise me you'll get a good night's sleep, all right?”

”I'll see what I can do,” William replied. He looked at the young woman's profile as she stopped to inspect produce that had come into the city that morning.

She pointed to a pile of large golden onions and said, ”I'll take six of those.”

While she and the seller haggled a little, William found his thoughts returning to the differences between Talia and Jazhara. Jazhara was Kes.h.i.+an, from desert stock, and darkly exotic by Kingdom standards. She was a magician of some skill and great potential, and as fit as any fighter he had ever known. He knew from first-hand experience that she could crack your skull with a quarterstaff as quickly as conjure up a spell, and she was better educated than any woman he had met-she spoke a dozen languages and dialects, knew the history both of her own homeland and the Kingdom, and could discourse on sciences, the course of the stars, and the mysteries of the G.o.ds.

Talia by contrast was a sunny, open person, full of humor and grace. She turned to catch William staring at her and said, ”What?”

He smiled back. ”Just thinking that you are as pretty a girl as I've ever seen.”

She blushed. ”Flatterer.”

He felt suddenly embarra.s.sed by the comment and said, ”Tell me about. . . where you grew up. You said you were raised by an order of. . . ?”

She smiled as she handed over four coins to the seller and put the onions in her shopping basket. ”I was raised by an order of the Sisters of Kahooli.”

William almost let his mouth fall open. Then: ”Kahooli!” he exclaimed.

Several shoppers nearby turned to see who had invoked the name of the G.o.d of Vengeance.

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