"... who they are?"
"... who cares ... long as they got coins ..."
"... big fellow .. . follow him ..."
"... others .. . look like a clerk and three guards ..."
"... more like meres ..."
". .. all those Hamorians pissprick Egen's got wouldn't like that..."
"Careful... don't know who's listening ..."
"Sides ... what could four meres do ..."
"Fellows!" called an angular server, who had appeared at Demyst's
shoulder, "what you all want?" She brushed back a lock of short black hair, her eyes darting around the table before centering on Kharl.
"Pale ale," Kharl said, recalling that lager in most taverns was merely watered ale.
"Lager's a lot better. Doesn't cost any more. Everything's three coppers a mug. Wine's five."
"... silver for bad wine?" murmured Erdyl.
"Look, fellows ... times been hard ... especially in the south."
"Lager, then." Kharl offered a smile.
"Make that two," added Demyst.
"Four," added Alynar.
Erdyl shrugged helplessly. "Five."
"Any eats?" asked the server.
"Got any dark bread?" replied Kharl.
"Cost you. Rye's one for a loaf, two for a basket. Dark's two and four."
"Basket of dark," Kharl said, showing a pair of silvers.
"You got it. Five lagers and a basket of dark."
The lower murmurs continued.
"... got coins .. ."
"... all of 'em got blades, and the two big 'uns'd break you in half..."
"... always that way ..."
". .. right it is ... why they got coins and you don't..."
The server returned with five brown crockery mugs, setting them quickly on the battered wooden tabletop, so deftly that despite her speed, not a drop slopped onto the wood. "Lagers." Then she set down the basket of bread. "Be three silvers and four."
Kharl handed over four silvers, as well as two more coppers.
"Thanks." The broad smile was both warm and professional.
Before she could step away, Kharl spoke. "There used to be armsmen in here all the time, didn't there?"
"Haven't been any since spring. Say they all went south to get the brigands out of the hills. Said that was the reason we didn't get no produce and stuff from there." The server shrugged, tossing her head to flip the errant lock of black hair back. "Miss the coins. Don't miss the rest of it."
"Looks slow, even for mideightday."
"Slow all the time now, except when the patrollers get off." She glanced toward the door.
"They're as bad as the armsmen?" suggested Kharl.
The server just shook her head. "Check on you fellows later." She moved to another table, where three white-haired men and a woman sat. "Need a refill, gramps?"
"Hain't finished what I got, Selda."
"Way you're drinkin', gramps, you never will..."
Kharl smiled.
"She didn't want to talk about the patrollers," observed Erdyl.
"Seemed that way," added Demyst.
Kharl said nothing, but studied the lager with his order-senses. There was no obvious chaos in it. He took a sip. He'd had better. He'd seldom had worse. After a second sip, he broke off a chunk of the bread and chewed off some. Warm, crusty, and flavorful, it was far better than the lager. He hated to think what the ale tasted like. He held the mug as though he would continue to sip, but concentrated on hearing what was being said at the other tables.
"... sent Gorot home last fiveday ... said wasn't enough work for two ..."
"... Melanya . .. thinks her Fradol's got eyes for Jaela ..."
"... knocks her up and looks elsewhere ... Ought to knock him up..."
"She'd come home then, and your coppers'd be flowing then ..."
"... have children ... always keep paying ... they never notice ... good times and bad ..."
"... seen better times ..."
*
"Haven't we all?"
i
Kharl had been slowly studying the servers as they passed, but he hadn't seen Enelya, from whom Kharl and Jeka had wheedled, begged, and bought food. The long-faced blond server handing the tables in the far corner was familiar-but he couldn't recall her name. He gestured to her, holding up a silver.
"Yes, ser?" She glanced toward the kitchen nervously. "Selda's your server..."
"Not about servers," Kharl replied. "A silver for you, if you can answer a question or two. Nothing more.'
"A silver?" Clearly, she didn't believe him.
He beckoned for her to lean down. "When I was here, a year ago, there
was a dark-haired girl, very friendly. Enelya, I think her name was. She had a sister, too, except something terrible happened to her."
"Right awful it was. She drowned in the harbor. The sister, I mean. Poor thing."
"Does Enelya ...?"
"Left here, not more 'n eightday ago. Couldn't say where."
Kharl could tell she was lying. He added a second silver to the first. "You might know where she went."
"Couldn't say, ser." Her voice wavered.
"Is she in trouble?"
The server glanced to the door. "Please, ser."
"Egen?" Kharl added another silver.
Her mouth opened. "She told him no." Her eyes darted away. "Said she had to go. Knew a place to hole up, wasn't bein' used. Didn't say where."
"The urchin's place?"
The girl's eyes widened. "Don't tell."
Kharl pressed the silvers into her hand. "I won't. Tell the others that you're meeting me later." He smiled. "Then sneak away and get some sleep."
"Ser..."
"Go..."
She darted away, but Kharl noted that she had kept the silvers-out of sight.
"Ser?" asked Erdyl.
"Later." Kharl took another small swallow of the lager. He kept listening, but he heard nothing new.
After another half glass, he nodded to Demyst. "Time to go." He stood and could feel eyes turning to watch him and the others as they walked from the White Pony.
Outside, Kharl walked to the first cross street, Second Cross, and turned westward.
"Ah, ser," murmured Erdyl, "the residence is back that way."
"I know," Kharl said cheerfully. "We need to investigate something."
"You know where the missing server is, don't you?" Erdyl's tone was almost accusatory. "What does she know?"
"I don't know, but I'd like to find out. I'd also like to repay a favor, if I
can." Kharl lengthened his stride. The air had cooled some while they had been in the White Pony, and a slight breeze blew out of the north, mixing the scent of harbor and dead fish with smoke, cooking oil, and other odors. A year before, he would not even have noticed the smell.
As they neared where Second Cross met Copper Road, Kharl could not only see but sense the Watch patrollers coming up the darkened Copper Road, even before he heard their boots on the yellow brick pavement of the street, not that he could tell the color in the darkness, but he recalled it all too well. "Patrollers are coming."
Demyst, Cevor, and Alynar all checked their sabres. Belatedly, so did Erdyl.
Kharl stopped at the intersection, waiting.
"Where are you headed?" The lead patroller barked at Kharl. Then as his eyes took in Demyst, Erdyl, and the two guards, he added, "Ser."
"I was taking an evening walk, patroller," Kharl said politely. "I was told it was unwise to walk alone. So I brought some friends."
The patroller looked at Kharl, then at Erdyl and the others. "Can be, ser. Take care. Best to avoid the area just above the harbor."
"Thank you." Kharl watched as the patrollers turned and headed back along Second Cross.
"... hate that... have to tell the serjeant... five of 'em ... three guards .. . think I'm going to take on that..."
"... serjeant understands ..."
"Captain doesn't.. ."
"Serjeant won't tell him ... never does ..."
Only when the patrollers were a good five rods away did Kharl turn onto Copper Road, heading toward the tannery and the rendering yard.
Kharl could smell the rendering yard long before they reached it, except the pungency was not what he had recalled. "That's the Tenderer's."
"Looks like the gate's boarded up," Erdyl said, stopping momentarily.
Kharl tensed momentarily, then took a deep breath. Werwal had been known for speaking his mind. "Is there a proclamation or anything posted there?"
"No, ser."
Werwal would have to wait. There was little Kharl could do now. There might be little enough he could do for Enelya, but if the other server at the White Pony knew where she was, she would not be safe from Egen long. Kharl kept walking.
Uphill from the Tenderer's was the serviceway off the alley, and Kharl recalled both all too well. He stopped and studied the short serviceway beyond the alley.
"You going in there, ser?" asked Demyst.
"There aren't any brigands or beggars here," Kharl replied softly. He eased forward along the alley, then turned into the serviceway, stopping short of the brick wall. Behind it were hidden two walls less than four cubits apart, one the brick wall of the renderer and the other stone wall of Drenzel the tanner. Even in the dim light the ancient and worn yellow bricks of the wall directly before him stood out from the newer red bricks paving the serviceway. He cast his order-senses beyond the wall that was but a head or so above his own height. One person crouched in the hidey-hole that had been Jeka's. Enelya? Who else could it be?
"She's alone," Kharl whispered to Demyst. "I'm climbing over."
"Ser!" hissed the undercaptain.
"I'll be careful."
Kharl scrambled up to the top of the wall, then used his order-senses to harden the air just outside where Enelya crouched in the hidey-hole Jeka had made-or found. He stumbled slightly coming down off the wall, but caught his balance. There was no sound from behind the worn burlap that concealed the hidey-hole.
"Enelya, I'm someone Jeka sent."
Still no sound.
"You stay here, and Egen'll find you, sure as I'm standing here."
She lurched from the hole, half-staggering, half-lunging at him, using a sabre broken off a span short of the tip-but with a sharp and jagged edge that almost came to a point.
Clang! Fragments of metal sprayed off the hardened air shield onto the summer-hardened clay between the two walls. Enelya went down in a heap.
Kharl could sense the knife.
"The knife won't help. You can either trust me, or wait for Egen to find you."
"Won't go ... no one ..."
Kharl stood there. What could he do? He didn't know the gentler uses of order. After a moment, he tried again, speaking softly and trying to use his order-senses to project a sense of truth and calm. "I'm trying to help you."
"No one can."
"I can." He dropped the air shield, but remained ready to call it up again if he needed to.
"Sure . .. and I'm Lady of Brysta." Enelya sat up, her eyes taking in Kharl. Abruptly, she swallowed, looking at the fragments of metal on the clay, then at Kharl. "You some kind of mage?"
"I know a little."
"Why didn't you . .." She shook her head.
"It doesn't work that way. It's better for defense." Kharl didn't like mentioning magery, but he didn't know what else to say.
"You ... you coulda killed me."
"I'm trying to keep you from being killed."
"Why me? You're some sort of mage ... or a lord. Easier to buy a girl from the Bardo ..." Enelya slowly stood, her eyes glancing past Kharl to the wall behind him.
"I'm not looking for that. I'm trying to pay a debt."