Part 14 (1/2)

'Thank you, sir.'

'How would you like to earn two s.h.i.+ny silver pieces?' he asked.

'Very much, sir,' Lorrie said eagerly. That would help. G.o.ds knew how long it would take to find Rip.

'Can you run, boy?'

'Oh, yes, sir,' Lorrie a.s.sured him, 'faster than anyone.'

The man laughed and pointed to an alley nearby. 'There's a fellow waiting there at the far end of the alley who needs someone to take a small package across the city for him. His name is Travers and he will give you your instructions. Tell him you're the lad Benton sent him. Now, go, let me see you run!'

She raced to the alley and down it to the corner where a man stood picking his teeth under the creaking sign of a tavern; it was a relief to get out of the narrow lane, where daylight hardly filtered through. The city looked to Lorrie to be worse than a forest at night, with houses that towered up three and even four storeys on either side. She wrinkled her nose: a farm-girl didn't grow up squeamish, but where she was raised dung went on the fields where it belonged, and people didn't p.i.s.s up against buildings.

'Sir?' she said, 'would you go by the name of Travers?'

The man nodded and swept a glance over her from head to foot. 'Who're you?' he demanded.

'I'm the boy Benton sent you,' Lorrie told him.

'Ah.' He pulled out a purse from his pocket. 'I need ye to take this to The Firedrake, an inn near the north gate. There's a gentleman there named Coats who's waiting for it.' He handed it over. 'Go on, then. What're ye waiting for?'

'Um, Benton said that I would get two silvers for this errand,' she said.

'And so ye shall, when ye've done it,' Travers roared. 'The sooner ye do it, the sooner ye'll be paid. So get goin'!'

Lorrie took to her heels feeling foolish and just a little unnerved. Of course she wouldn't be paid until she'd delivered the package, no one would take your word on such a thing here. But she couldn't help reflecting that Travers was a very surly man, not nearly as nice as Benton.

The streets were far less crowded now as the day waned and she still had nowhere to spend the night. Perhaps if The Firedrake looked like a reasonable place she could stay there. Lorrie paused and looked around. Then she dashed down a short street toward the city wall, reasoning that following it would lead her to the north gate eventually.

Suddenly she went flying, knocking her forehead on the cobbled pavement with an oof! and a dizzying wave of pain. Blood trickled down into her eyebrows, warm and sticky. Through the buzzing in her ears she heard far in the background a cry of 'Stop! Thief!' and was glad she'd got past the place without trouble.

Lorrie started to push herself up when something hard struck her in the middle of her back and pushed her back down again.

'Stay where you are!' a familiar voice barked.

The girl turned her head and stared in astonishment at the cheerful Benton, looking far less than cheery at the moment.

'Ah ha!' Travers said, arriving in a hurry. 'Caught the little rat I see!'

'Then this is the thief?' Benton said.

'Indeed, sir! With my purse in his hand!' Travers said loudly.

Lorrie looked in disbelief from one to the other. The few people about were pausing to see what the excitement was about and she felt compelled to protest.

'But you gave it to me!' she cried. 'You told me...'

Benton smacked her with his cudgel on the back of the neck with precisely calculated force, and she fell back, dazed.

'None of that!' he cried. 'You can tell your lies to the judge and see what he thinks of them.'

Some of the people around them looked smug and nodded in agreement; a few were doubtful, but disinclined to interfere.

'I am Gerem Benton, an independent thief-taker, sir. I must ask you come with me, as witness,' Benton announced.

The doubtful among the onlookers now seemed satisfied. The thief-takers worked indirectly for the Baron, being paid a bounty for each thief caught and turned over to the city constabulary.

''Tis no less than my duty,' Travers agreed. He nudged Lorrie with his foot. 'Up with you, boy!'

Lorrie couldn't seem to co-ordinate her limbs and after a moment stopped trying.

'What a dainty head the creature has,' Benton said. 'If you'll take one arm, sir, then I'll take the other and we'll be on our way.'

They hoisted her up and everything went black for Lorrie. Throbbing pain spiked its way up both sides of her neck.

When she came around it was to find herself flat on the ground in a dark lane behind a building. Benton and Travers were having an argument with two other men.

'...is my territory, Gerem Benton, and well you know it!' growled a man with an eye-patch. He towered over Benton who was trying to reason with him.

'It all started over in the East Market,' Benton was saying. 'But we have to go through your territory to get to the gaol. Be reasonable, Jake.'

'I saw the whole thing!' Jake roared, by no means inclined to be reasonable. 'I don't care where you started, you carried out the business end of it in my territory!'

He pulled back his fist as if to strike and Travers caught his wrist. Then Jake's companion chose to interfere, giving Travers a hard shove.

'Ah, demons take it,' Benton cursed. 'You have the right of it, then, if it's your territory.'

He turned half away, and then shoved his club into Jake's middle just below the floating rib, a hard swift jab. 'But who says it's your territory, dog's-pizzle!' Benton grabbed the other man by the hair and yanked his head back. Cutting off the man's airway with the club he growled, 'Remember who's running things here, boyo. You and your little crew are free to boost and cut purses, but only because I keep the constables off your neck. I haven't had a thief to turn in for almost three weeks now, so if I have to, I'll turn some farm boy into a thief. But I'll hear no more about ”your territory” and ”my territory”.' He let the man go and watched as he staggered back. 'When it comes to things dodgy, all of Land's End is my my territory.' territory.'

Lorrie crab-walked away for a few paces, then turned over and scrambled to her feet. Before she'd taken two steps the four of them had grabbed hold of her and were cuffing her about the head and shoulders, shouting at her and each other and pulling her arms.

She sank to her knees with a keening sob. Someone had drawn a knife...

Something about having his rapier on his hip, even if it was carefully hidden by his cloak, gave Jimmy a sense of being tallereven full-grown. He could feel it in his walk, a new swaggerlet him cross my path who dares! He s.h.i.+fted his slender shoulders and grinned.

He'd never dream of wearing the sword on the street in Krondor; the watch would have it off him and himself in a cell before he could begin to argue about it. As for the Mockers, well, unless you were a basher they didn't encourage the open wearing of weapons. It tended to lead to trouble.

Which it could in Land's End as well, I suppose.

But here he was dressed quite respectably, which he knew counted for a great deal and, even more importantly, had a very respectable address. Of course he hoped he wouldn't have to fall back on that. Flora would kill hima.s.suming she hadn't already revealed all to Aunt Cleora and wasn't sitting on the front steps weeping. In which case they were both likely to be arrested. But when he had last seen them, they had been sitting together while Aunt Cleora regaled Flora with family stories, holding the girl's hands as if they were gold. With no children of her own, it seemed Cleora had found a suitable object for all her maternal instincts. Sometime this evening, Jimmy a.s.sumed, they'd finally get around to visiting Grandfather.

Resisting the urge to throw back his cloak off his shoulder, showing the blade, Jimmy continued on. No point in borrowing trouble No point in borrowing trouble, he thought. Must continue to look as respectable as possible Must continue to look as respectable as possible, he reminded himself. And there are advantages to it. I can case any target I please, and the shopkeepers bow double and ask me to take their inventory, instead of calling for the watch or throwing horse-apples! And there are advantages to it. I can case any target I please, and the shopkeepers bow double and ask me to take their inventory, instead of calling for the watch or throwing horse-apples!

So he strutted as he walked, enjoying the mild air as dusk fell and the way his cloak swung about his calves. He rather liked this town. It was so compact compared to Krondor, and so quiet.

'Leave me alone!'

Jimmy's head snapped toward the sound. Down a dim alley he saw four men fighting over a struggling shape. See See, he thought smugly, there's where an organization like the Mockers comes in handy. there's where an organization like the Mockers comes in handy. In Krondor such an unseemly situation would never occur. Any freelance thief would know better than to contest a prize with a Mocker and two groups of Mockers would simply take the loot and let the Day-or Nightmaster sort it out. This was uncivilized. And it was not even dark yet! In Krondor such an unseemly situation would never occur. Any freelance thief would know better than to contest a prize with a Mocker and two groups of Mockers would simply take the loot and let the Day-or Nightmaster sort it out. This was uncivilized. And it was not even dark yet!