Beka Cooper 1 - Terrier Read online

  I blinked at Rosto. Trouble has just moved in, I thought. Then I remembered I stood there in no more than breastband and breeches. I shrieked and slammed my door. I cleaned up for the day and put my uniform to soak in a washtub, my poor brain racing. Aniki and Kora seemed like good sorts, for mots clearly on the other side of the law. Truth to tell, it would be nice to have friendly folk here. But Rosto...

  "Aren't there other lodgings?" I asked Pounce as I felt my hair. It was all tangles. I brushed it out, then wet my comb and worked to make a smooth braid. By the time I was done, the moving noises had ended with a clattering of feet down the stairs. I can't say how I might avoid Rosto after him seeing me half naked if he is to live here, but knowing he wasn't right outside my door was a start.

  Someone knocked. I peered through the eye cheat to see that Kora and Aniki were outside. My nose twitched. I smelled spiced turnovers. I opened the door. Kora, neat and tidy in a green cotton gown fit snug to her hips, held the covered basket that gave off the wonderful smells. Aniki stood behind her, two flasks in her hands.

  "We fetched breakfast to begin well as your neighbors," Kora told me with a wicked smile. "The turnovers come from a baker named Mistress Noll. They say at the Court of the Rogue she's the best. And I warmed up everything with a bit of magicking."

  My belly growled. It had been a very long time since last night's dry chicken. Both of them laughed.

  I ducked my head and let them in. It felt like they brought sun and fresh air with them. Aniki set aside her flasks and lay down a cloth on my floor. I fetched three cups and plates from my shelf and set them down at the cloth's center whilst Kora whisked the napkin away from her basket. We sat cross-legged, spearing pasties with our belt knives.

  "It's partly our own celebration," Aniki explained with her mouth half full. "Me'n Rosto have work. Me with Dawull – "

  I nodded. Dawull was the redheaded chief of Waterfront District. It ran from the South Gate to the North Gate along both sides of the river.

  Kora took a gulp of barley water. "And Rosto with Ulsa, who runs the Prettybone District." She gave Aniki a pert smile. "You owe Cooper's tall Dog two silver nobles. You bet him Rosto would hire on with Dawull."

  "I know, I know," Aniki said, grabbing another pasty. "And now I can afford to pay him."

  I looked from one to the other. Kora and Aniki are so relaxed and friendly that it doesn't seem to matter if I talk or no. They act as if we've known each other all our lives. I know there are Dogs who are friends with folk on the far side of the law. It can be done, so long as everyone observes the rules. If they do not give me knowledge of acts against the King's peace, so long as I do not catch them breaking it, we can do this.

  "You're wondering how Aniki can work for one chief and Rosto another?" Kora asked. In a way I was, since my problem was similar. She offered a scrap of pasty to Pounce. "We've never turned against one another. Masters come and go. Friends remain always."

  "Besides, where's the problem?" Aniki stretched her long body and leaned against my wall as if she sat in the most comfortable of chairs. I tossed her a couple of pillows. "Thanks." She stuffed them in around her back. "Kayfer's chiefs spend all their time protecting Kayfer. They don't battle each other." She grinned, but it was a wolf's grin, showing teeth. "So me'n Rosto don't have to worry about fighting. Not that we would. So what's your Dog's name, Cooper? The one I owe money to?"

  "Tunstall," I replied, watching her hands as she flexed them. She didn't even look like she noticed she did them, the exercises swordfolk were always about to keep their hands limber. "Matthias Tunstall. The other one's Clara Goodwin. And I'm Beka."

  Aniki wove the fingers of both hands together, turned her palms out, and stretched her arms as far as she could. I gave it a try. "Easy," she warned me. "Push too hard and you hurt yourself fairly bad. I'm Aniki Forfrysning. That's Koramin Ingensra. You heard Rosto say we've all moved in."

  "And you are a very fine fellow," Kora told Pounce, gathering him up in her arms. "Aniki, feel his coat! It's like velvet!" She looked at me. "I've never felt a cat's coat so clean and so soft. How do you do it, when he runs in the street?"

  Pounce looked at me. Make her stop, he said in cat.

  I looked back, telling him silently, She's a mage. You make her stop.

  Kora had just found his favorite place to be scratched, right under the point of his jaw. Fickle Pounce began to purr instead. Aniki scooted over to scratch him herself.

  "We've been on the road too long," she announced with a sigh. "I'd like to settle here and have a cat. Maybe I'll steal this one."

  "Pounce doesn't take to being stole. I should just mention it," I explained. Shadows broke up the light from the window. All three of us looked up. Kora freed a hand. I could see a pale green-blue gleam around her fingertips. I shook my head at her. Pigeons lined up on my sill. There were three, Slapper, Pinky, and White Spice. Slapper, with no more sense than the average cracknob, hopped onto my floor and limped to our cloth. He glared at us all like some prophet out of legend.

  "Friends of yours?" Aniki asked mockingly.

  I shrugged.

  Slapper began to peck at our crumbs. Seeing their flockmate was getting away with something, the other two flew over to us.

  "Look at this," Kora whispered. "He's not so much as twitching."

  Pounce sat in her lap, purring away. He wasn't about to give up being petted.

  Since they weren't crying out and demanding the dirty birds be chased off – like my sisters, Diona and Lorine, often did – I crumbled some of my pasty and held out my crumbs. White Spice came over.

  "My little boy's lame," his man ghost mourned. "Who will look after 'im? Slavers took 'is ma. She was so beautiful I knew we wouldn't be let keep 'er, but we did our best. Who'll look after 'im now?"

  "This wasn't s'posed to happen," cried Pinky's ghost. "We was supposed to dig a well, that's all, just a well, and we dug it – "

  "Beka! Beka!"

  That living cove's yell jerked me from my listening. I spilled what was left of my palmful of crumbs. My pigeons took flight, leaving droppings on my floor before they fled through the open window. Aniki and Kora both grabbed their daggers.

  "Beka, you are not hiding in your rooms all day! You are having fun with your friends! You know, friends?"

  "Ersken," I said with a sigh. My head ached as he pounded up my stairs. He had others with him, too, unless he had brought a herd of horses. "It's my friend Ersken," I explained to Aniki and Kora. "He's another Puppy. And one, mayhap two, of the others."

  "This could be interesting," Kora murmured.

  "Beka, they's more to life than sleepin' an' walkin' your watch!" Verene is from Blue Harbor and still has the accent to show for it.

  Pounce muttered in cat. At least, Aniki and Kora heard it so. Aniki petted and admired him for being "such a talky little pippin." I heard, Humans. Always getting good ideas and interrupting important business with them at the stupidest times.

  I would have said he had a poor idea of them who fed him, but Ersken was almost up the stairs.

  "Beka, I mean it! You will open this door and – " He halted in my open doorway, blinking. Verene and Phelan collided with his back. Phelan was a second-year Dog who'd befriended us Puppies. "You're – Hello," Ersken said to Kora and Aniki. "Bek, you – um..."

  Kora looked at him sidelong and smiled. That was it for Ersken. He turns as shy as me when a pretty girl bats her lashes at him. Then Aniki got to her feet. She is half a head taller than Ersken, more woman than he knows what to do with.

  Verene started to giggle. She came in and offered a hand to Aniki. "We're Beka's friends. We came to keep her from turnin' into a mushroom. I'm Verene, tha's Phelan, and th' spaniel Pup is Ersken. He's sweet. Don't bruise him." Ersken turned beet color.

  "We're moving in, so we invited Beka to breakfast," Aniki explained as she shook Verene's hand. "That's my friend Kora on the floor. She's living downstairs now. I'm Aniki. We met Beka at the Rogue's Court."r />
  "You were there when Crookshank pitched his fit?" asked Phelan, his eyes bright with interest. "The word is he tried to kill the Rogue. Some Scanran pretty boy saved ol' Kayfer's life."

  "That 'pretty boy' would be me," said a slow voice from my doorway, behind the group.

  My friends turned. Pounce gave the mrt that served him for a laugh.

  "I brought fresh food," Rosto said. He eased his way in. The next thing I knew, I had six guests on my floor splitting up fresh-baked oatmeal and rye bread. Rosto had bought soft cheese to put on the bread, which made him a good fellow in my friends' eyes.

  "So why do they call you the Piper?" Verene asked when he'd been introduced around. She'd taken care to get the seat beside his. Verene had an eye for a good-looking cove.

  "I play well enough, don't I, girls?" he asked. Aniki and Kora nodded. Rosto smiled. It was a razor blade of a smile that made me wonder if he was thinking of Kayfer Deerborn. I was sure Rosto and his mots had come to take the Rogue's throne. They couldn't do it alone. Three young rushers new to Corus would stand on that platform for less time than it would take to mop away the old Rogue's blood before they'd be overwhelmed by his followers. But being new, they didn't have the old feuds and hates built up among the folk in the present court. If they made friends, Rosto might well be on the way to a kingship.

  To make his point, Rosto took a flute from his tunic and began to play. He was very good. Then Verene recognized one of his tunes and sang it. She had the prettiest voice in all the Provost's Guard. Kora danced for us. Rosto and Phelan discovered they had met the same old wandering mage in different towns. Finally we decided someone had to go for lunch before all of us but Kora went on duty. Everyone put in some coppers. Me and Ersken went out to get sausages, more cheese, and some spinach tarts.

  "Be a shame to hobble any of them," he said after we'd walked in silence for a bit.

  I nodded.

  "You think that Rosto likes you?"

  I gave him a shove.

  "He moved into your lodging house, didn't he?"

  "He said he liked the location. And he's got Aniki or Kora."

  "I'd say both."

  "That's his business, Ersken."

  "What if he's looking to add you, Beka?"

  "That's my business." I kicked a rotting vegetable away from me to hide my blushes. "Besides," I said, keeping my eyes down, "he's got to be twenty-two if he's a day."

  "Oh, ancient," Ersken said, scoffing. "Handsome as the sunrise, if you like that sort of cove. Don't look at me," he said when I stared at him. "Well, look at me, but not that way. I have older sisters, remember? If I don't know what makes girls wiggle their toes, I've had my head in the Olorun for seventeen years."

  To distract him, because I didn't want the talk to come round to whether I saw Rosto that way or he saw me the same, I asked, "Have you heard of the Shadow Snake?"

  Ersken frowned. "Shadow Snake? You mean, what they say Crookshank and the Rogue were talking about that night you were there?"

  "The same, but before then. Stealing children from the Lower City. Threatening folk who had something of value and taking a little one if they didn't pay it over. Have you heard aught?" I never had trouble talking with Ersken. He made it that easy. The other girls said he was too nice, but what was wrong with that? Better that than Rosto's sword-edge self.

  "Me? Heard anything?" Ersken began to laugh. "Beka, we've only been on the prowl three days! I'm new in the Lower City, remember? I've not got my ear to the walls like you!"

  If I had my ear to the walls like you think, I'd've known about the Snake when he took Rolond, or a year ago, or two. I thought it, but did not say it. I was too ashamed.

  I stopped dead in the street to glare at him. "Your Dogs mayhap said sommat when you heard about Crookshank."

  He made himself stop laughing. "They did not. Come on. Tell me what you've heard, and I'll see what I turn up."

  And so I told him. Now two of us will be seeking this snake.

  After my watch.

  It was a beautiful spring evening. I felt a bit of a twinge when Tunstall greeted me at muster with "We're back to the Cesspool tonight, Cooper." Not even spring improves the Cesspool much, though the weather was perfect. Not too cold, not too hot.

  An hour in, we raided an illegal slave auction. One of Goodwin's Birdies brought the word to her and carried away her coppers for thanks. It was being held in a ramshackle barn. As big as the place was, my Dogs had no choice but to post me at the side door, since they had to go in at the front and the back.

  Lucky for me I had my baton out and was ready for trouble. A Rat came dashing through my door. He was a giant fellow a head taller than me. When I called, "In the King's name!" and grappled with him, he turned and caught me one on the cheekbone with his elbow. For all that, I hung on and got my baton placed so he went quiet and gave me his full attention. I got the hobbles on his wrists, then made him kneel so I could get his ankles.

  Goodwin came out the door to see what had become of me. Seeing us, she gave me a nod and a quarter smile. It turned out my Rat was the ringleader, a crooked cove who'd tried to sell a dozen slaves without paying the King's tax. Even with the knot on my cheekbone, I felt as good at dropping him as I had Orva Ashmiller.

  Around nine we took supper in an eating house by North Gate. For the rest of our watch we worked that part of the Cesspool. It was quiet.

  "Such nights happen," Tunstall said as we trudged down Rovers Street on our way back to the kennel. "I like to give Mithros a bit of an offering before I go home, to show him I'm proper grateful – "

  We were passing the Barrel's Bottom. It was one of the worst riverfront taverns. It proved its reputation now as the double front doors blew open and a knot of brawlers fell into the street.

  "You had to tempt the Crone," Goodwin muttered. We drew our batons. "Cooper, just keep anyone we pull out from piling back in."

  They were splendid to watch, my Dogs. To dishearten the brawlers they yanked from the knot, they hit them neatly with the fist end of their batons. The blows caused so much pain even these drunken swine felt it.

  The problem began when the river dodgers fighting inside learned someone was pounding their friends outside. Bees hummed in my belly as they came stumbling out of the tavern. I knew my Dogs were tough, but this looked like a lot of scuts and not enough batons. My mouth went wool dry.

  When one mot whose arm muscles were double mine seized Goodwin, I don't even remember deciding to disobey my orders. I smashed her aside like Sergeant Ahuda taught us to do. That brought me to the river dodgers' attention. I got caught up in a tide of bodies. Somehow we were pulled inside with the fight. I laid about me as my Dogs did, feeling my baton hit. I remember trying to get my whistle to my mouth to call for other Dogs. Someone cut the cord from my belt and sliced my arm in the doing. I was scared. Sooner or later I was going to fall and be trampled. Try as I did, I couldn't get close to Goodwin or Tunstall.

  I don't think Tunstall remembered he even had a whistle. He pounded heads with his baton, roaring. Goodwin blew her whistle even as she laid out coves and mots alike. Sometime in that fight, I decided I wanted to be Clara Goodwin if I lived. I don't know if that was afore or after someone laid a very hard fist in my left eye.

  I kicked up as I was taught. My reward was a yell of pain. Then I heard a cat's battle scream. Pounce landed on the head of a cove who'd drawn a blade on Tunstall. My cat blinded the knife wielder with scratches that bled into his eyes. Then Pounce was on to his next Rat before that one could grab him.

  Curse all Dogs who can't hear a whistle! he yowled.

  Someone pushed me against a table. I smashed him across the head hard, then shoved him behind me. I heard him smack into furniture. Somewhere in the corner at my back I heard a woman's voice, a low and pleasant one.

  "All I want is to get peacefully drunk after eating hill dirt in my ale for months. Goddess, was it too much to ask?"

  I didn't think the Goddess was anywhere p
resent. I glanced back, in case the woman who was getting up from her table might need a baton smash on her head. She was near as tall as Tunstall, brown-haired, brown-eyed, long-nosed, broad-shouldered, slim enough for her height. She wore a brown leather jerkin and breeches and a shirt that mayhap once was white. The leather scabbards of her dagger and sword were just as beat up as her clothes and boots.

  The tall mot battered her way to the bar. She dragged the barkeep up by the shirt, seized the well-polished club he clutched, and shoved him back into his hiding spot.

  Hands grabbed me. I was busy again. I did my best, but I was getting tired. I finally remembered Ahuda's teaching and fought my way to a wall. I put it at my back so no one else might grab me from behind. Taking care, I got into a corner, with a wall on the side of my black eye. I didn't like having my arm restricted, but it beat fighting on my blind side.

  Goodwin was backing up to me, using a lull in the fight. The woman in brown wielded the club like a blade. Behind her lay a trail of collapsed river dodgers. Some even decided they'd had enough fun. They were sneaking out the side doors. More crawled through the doors in front.

  By the time the lady and Tunstall met at the center of the room, Goodwin had reached me. She leaned against the wall, panting. "You're a mess," she said. "You're bleeding where?"

  I showed her my arm. She cut a strip from the shirt of a cove I'd downed and bound my cut with that. "Carry spare handkerchiefs and strips of linen. Bind cuts right off," Goodwin told me as she knotted the bandage. "Elsewise you'll as soon die of blood loss as someone's shiv in your ribs." She grabbed a pitcher from a table that had survived the jostling and took a huge gulp of the contents. Then she made me take a few swallows. It was ale. For a moment we watched as Tunstall traded blows with a nimble, fat cove.

  "Cooper, nice baton work. Very nice." Goodwin took a deep breath, then looked away. Finally she leaned in and spoke quietly. "Me'n Tunstall got lucky here, Cooper. You're good in a fight, thank the Goddess. We didn't look out for you as we should have done. Most Puppies would be dead right now, understand? Because this isn't the kind of fight Puppies survive without their Dogs watching out for them. We'll look out for you better in future."