Beka Cooper 1 - Terrier Page 14

  "I was doing the job," I said.

  "Shut up. We weren't doing ours, me and Tunstall. We were doing the job we used to have, just breaking heads. We can't do that anymore. Now we have you to look after." Goodwin nodded. "We're learning this teaching Dog business same as you're learning a Dog's work, but that's no excuse. Older Dogs look after younger ones, that's the rule. Now, who do you suppose our lady knight is?"

  "That's a knight? How can you tell?"

  I was glad to see Goodwin's hooked half smile. "I saw her and four other knights riding down Messinger on my way to the kennel this afternoon. I didn't see more than the shape of the shield, but she had the armor and trappings. And knights have a way about them, chin so high in the air they're just begging for you to give them the nap tap."

  I grinned. All of us love that hammer blow of baton against jaw, even if it doesn't always knock a Rat out. Goodwin has the city's record for the highest number of perfectly delivered nap taps that end with a Rat carried away, stone unconscious.

  The scrape of wood got our attention. A mot with one eye picked up a wooden bench, meaning to throw it at the lady knight. Goodwin started forward to help, but the lady turned and caught sight of her danger, and Tunstall's. She didn't even waste the breath to shout. She slung her free arm around Tunstall's neck, hooked one of his legs from under him, and dragged him down and to the side. They fell as the mot hurled the heavy bench. It went over their heads and smashed into the three river dodgers who'd been moving in on Tunstall. As he and the lady struggled to their feet, Goodwin returned to lean against the wall.

  "They're all right," she said. "They don't need me."

  Pounce wandered over to us. Sitting on the floor, he began to wash his paws. I bent over to pet him, only to see the floor yaw away from me. "Pox," Goodwin whispered as she grabbed me.

  I straightened with her help and let her get me to a bench. "Sorry," I muttered, feeling miserable.

  Pounce jumped on my lap and began to talk to me. Cheer up, you're doing fine. Learning hurts.

  "It's the blood loss." Goodwin half sat on the table next to me and crossed her arms over her chest. "It makes a girl feel giddy, and no mistake. The healer will set you right, Cooper."

  Tunstall and the lady knight had come to the last pair of foes. Neither Rat looked sharp, but seemingly they were clever enough. With no friends left, they ran.

  The lady looked at Tunstall, then at Goodwin and me, and leaned on her club. "Well," she said, a little winded. "This was refreshing. That's a fighting Pup you have there, but she nearly got killed. I know better than to take a squire into a fight where I'm outnumbered seven to one. It's one thing to dice with your own life and another to dice with that of someone you're training, Master Dog."

  Tunstall scowled at her. "Cooper can take care of herself, and if she can't, we can take care of her, whatever your name is." Then he took a look at me and cursed. "Ox's eggs."

  I swear it was the blood loss that made me say, "I am fine," loud enough that even the lady heard me. As a lie it was pitiful. My head spun in the speaking of it.

  The lady threw back her head and laughed. It was no well-bred laugh, but a full-throated guffaw. "A fighting Pup indeed." She strolled over to Goodwin and smiled. "I am Sabine of Macayhill, lady knight."

  "Clara Goodwin of the Provost's Guard. My partner is Matthias Tunstall, and this is Rebakah Cooper." Goodwin smiled up at the lady. "Thank you for helping us deal with this lot. I'm curst if I know why no one responded to my whistle – "

  Four Dogs walked in the front door, none of them people I knew well. Tunstall was coming toward us, so I could hear his mutter of "Pig scummer."

  "Some 'un said they heard a Dog whistle a-blowin' down this way. We come as fast as we could," the biggest of the four said, looking around. "Seemingly you didn't need us, then."

  "Change of the watch," Goodwin said, and sighed.

  Now it made sense. It must have been later than we thought. The fellows of the Evening Watch were on their way to the kennel or already there when Goodwin blew her whistle. Night Watch is made up of the district's dregs, the slow and the sullen or the plain lazy. Someone carried the word of our alarm to the kennel because they got a copper for doing it, and the Dogs of the Night Watch took their time in coming.

  For a moment the anger rose up so bad it choked me. I didn't know about dying, but these scummernobs could have saved me a beating. If I'd had the strength, I don't know but I would have flown at these four lazy scuts and tried some nap tapping of my own.

  Pounce fluffed his fur out until he looked three times as big as normal. He jumped at the lummox Dog's chest. He howled like something from the Realms of Chaos, scaring the Dog and his friends so bad they went scrambling to get away from him. They tripped and fell over the river dodgers on the floor. Sadly for them, those folk were waking up, and they were vexed.

  "Quick," whispered Lady Sabine. She pointed to a side door.

  Before I knew what happened, Tunstall had scooped me up in his arms. He, Goodwin, and Lady Sabine ran out into the alley. Behind us we could hear a new fight break out.

  Pounce caught up with us on Rovers Street. He took the lead, his tail a flag. He was very pleased with himself.

  Once the healer had seen to me, Goodwin, Tunstall, and Lady Sabine walked me back to Nipcopper Close, Pounce riding on either Goodwin's or Lady Sabine's shoulders. The three of them wandered off to find a meal. It seemed that Tunstall had forgiven the lady her disapproval, at least enough to eat with her. My cat and I went in search of my bed.

  Sunday, April 5, 246

  This morning I opened my door to Kora, Aniki, and the wonderful scent of heated pasties from the basket on Kora's arm. Despite my weariness and the pain of my half-healed bruises, I smiled to see them. They looked full of mischief, and I have a sad liking for mischief. Why else would I prefer to live in the Lower City? My lord says that the best Dogs are half crooked at heart.

  "Breakfast?" Aniki asked. "We heard you were dancing with river dodgers last night. You will need to build your strength back up."

  "That's a splendid black eye," Kora said. "I like the cheekbone bruise, too. Before or after healing?"

  "After," I said. My belly growled. I was always starved for a day after healing. Kora handed me a mutton pasty. I ate it then and there, standing aside to let them in. "How did you hear?" I asked them as Aniki put down the cloth and Kora laid out my plates.

  "I was at Dawull's," Aniki said. "We got the news straight off. Some of our rushers wanted to go help the river dodgers, but Dawull wouldn't allow it. He won't let his people take on your Dogs if he knows about it beforehand, I found out. He says they're too tough."

  I confess it, I was flattered. Aniki and Kora have plainly lived a hard life. To have them speak of my bruises and my Dogs as if I belong to that world – it seems as if I am accepted into it. As if I wear a Puppy's trim but have a Dog's standing. And I have paid a hard price for those bruises. Even with healing, they will linger on my face for days. It's good to get respect for them in the wake of the pain.

  I found the bottles of twilsey and barley water from yesterday and put them down, then opened my shutters. The pigeons with the ghosts of the dead diggers waited for me. I fed them their corn as Rosto arrived with more food.

  "I'll kiss them and make them better," he said when he saw my bruises.

  I slid one foot back to balance myself and raised my arms, hands fisted, into blocking positions. "Try and I'll bruise you." I actually said it out loud. "Then Aniki and Kora can kiss you better."

  Kora smiled. "Aniki can do the kisses. Rosto, don't pull Beka's tail. She doesn't like it."

  Pounce wandered over to Rosto and stood, reaching up delicately between his legs. He said, "Mrt?" just loud enough to make Rosto look down, then patted the inside of Rosto's knee.

  Rosto sighed. "I was being friendly," he complained. "Modern times are cruel when a cove can't be friendly." He stepped around Pounce and settled on the floor cloth. "See if I brin
g you a treat tomorrow, Master Cat." He looked up at me. "Is there a tomorrow? I think this little breakfast idea is quite nice, even with threats and the nasty birds coming and going."

  The "nasty birds" ignored him, being too busy fighting over the corn on my ledge. I eased off my fighting pose, dizzy from healing, and sat on my stool.

  "Not tomorrow, Tuesday's my day off. I leave early to visit my family," I said. "And tomorrow is our day in Magistrate's Court. It starts the hour after sunrise."

  "Ugh!" Rosto said, grimacing. "They don't pay you enough, sweetheart."

  I scowled at him. I'll never tell him that I like his company. The extra food is nice, of course, particularly at the start of the day. I'd bite my tongue off before I said it, but Rosto is funny.

  Very well. The truth, since I am the only one who reads this.

  He makes my skin, my peaches, and my other parts tingle in an agreeable way. Naught will come of it. He's clearly meant to be more than an ordinary rusher, which means that one day he and I will be on the wrong sides of an argument. Besides, he's got Aniki and Kora. I'd druther be their friend than their rival.

  But it's good, after the dark and the scares of night duty, to sit in daylight with food and interesting folk. Clever folk, who know how to laugh. Who know how to make me laugh, when doing so doesn't make my cheek hurt.

  Ersken and Verene came not long after Rosto with sausage rolls and gossip. One of the barons in Unicorn found out his lady wife was canoodling with an Earl. Rank or no, a challenge had been issued. Mistress Bircher, wife of the head of the Silversmiths' Guild, presented her man with twins. That was Flash District. Flash Dogs would have the joy of guarding that celebration when it happened. We would have a quiet night, as many of our foists and thieves went to help themselves there.

  "Remember Alacia?" Verene asked me. To our crooked friends she said, "She's another Puppy, named in tribute to His Majesty's first Queen. Well, till yesterday she was on Day Watch in Unicorn. Then my lord of Olau got word that his youngest and only son has been flirtin' with a pretty Puppy."

  "Fast work," Aniki said with respect. "You lot have been on duty, what, five days?"

  "Four, not counting today," Ersken said. He's a stickler for numbers.

  "Anyway," Verene said. She hates it when wonderful gossip is interrupted. I never interrupt, because she has better gossip than most Dogs. Her mother is a barmaid at Naxen's Fancy, where they hear everything as soon as it happens. "Anyway, the lad's noble father pitched a fit at the Unicorn kennel, and they switched Alacia with Clarke. He was on Night Watch at Prettybone. So now she's on Night Watch."

  Rosto rubbed his chin. "So this Alacia's a sweet armful? I'll look out for her, Dog or not."

  Aniki gave him a hard elbow. "Don't you have enough women in your life, Rosto?"

  Rosto gave me what he thought was a sober look. "Not without Cooper, I don't."

  "Cooper will never go with anyone crooked," Ersken said. "A rusher was mean to her mother. She's never forgiven them."

  I could pretend not to hear what he said, because Slapper was making way for a new pigeon, one I'd never seen. This one was a sad case. He was a caked-feather fellow I instantly named Mumper. Mayhap he was gray under the dirt and grease on his wings and belly. His ghost, like those of the other murdered diggers, complained about being buried whilst his people believed he'd run off.

  Once I'd gathered aught new he had to say, I heard Verene call my name. "You remember that Dog who taught us to tell dice that have been meddled with? He was on Night Watch?"

  I knew him well. I remembered the sight of his fingers, handling the sets of dice he'd used to teach us. He could hold five in one hand and throw them so they'd all land in one circle drawn in the dirt.

  Verene drew her finger over her throat.

  My chest went tight. "Dead?" I whispered.

  Ersken nodded, his face grim. "And we're not to go to the burying. There's a notice up on the kennel gate. We saw it on the way here. They found him with his dice in his mouth – all rigged. All crooked. My lord's order, under his seal: "Bury him with the Dogs, but not as a Dog."

  We all made the sign against evil on our chests. Pounce came over and sat on my crossed legs to purr at me. Of course there are crooked Dogs. I can name two handfuls myself. But this is the first Dog to die since I entered the ranks. That is a sad thing.

  I will buy prayers for him. I do not like that he was crooked. But he'd still been a Dog.

  We sat and talked of other things as the sun rose higher and the room got warm. I wanted to get out and feed more pigeons. There might be others who'd been killed along with the ghosts who rode poor Mumper and Slapper. Mayhap once I had all of the murdered ones together, they could lead me to where they were buried. But healing had left me dozy, as it often does the day after, especially when I lose blood.

  "You need a nap," Kora said when she saw my eyes start to flutter. "And I'm taking your clothes to wash. You can pay me three coppers for each wash I do."

  "Wash?" I asked.

  Kora had picked up my basket. "The herb women aren't hiring as yet. I have my charms to get clothes clean faster than most."

  "You'll charge three coppers?" Verene asked.

  Kora looked at her. "Five for those who don't live in my house."

  "How about mine?" Ersken asked. "I'll pay five and pay it more than gladly."

  Kora smiled at them. "Hurry and get your things."

  Ersken and Verene ran to fetch their wash.

  "It doesn't seem right," I said. I didn't have the strength to argue much, I was so tired.

  "I do a bit of magic with the soap and they're clean, a bit more and they're dry. I could make a fortune as a washerwoman," Kora said. "The worst part is carrying wet things."

  Aniki and Rosto were clearing up the remains of breakfast.

  "Get some street children to help," Aniki said. "A copper each and they'd wash the things themselves."

  "I can imagine," Kora said. She looked at me. "Tell me you could do better yourself."

  I yawned. "I can't."

  "Then hush. Sleep till it's time for your watch."

  I wrote this morning up during the afternoon, now I've woke up. When I opened my door, my clean wash was there in a basket, neatly folded. On my way to training, I will put three coppers under Kora's door.

  After my watch.

  Tonight Tunstall, Goodwin, and me were back in the streets around the Nightmarket. And I will write details now, truly. There were tavern fights, robberies. We broke up a fight among gamblers as a man claimed a mot had cheated him. I stopped five cutpurses and three foists on my own, but they were not stealing anything worth the trouble to hobble them.

  We caught a cove trying to sell children who were not his to sell and fetched him and the slaver who was about to pay him back to the kennel. We took the three nearly sold children home. One mot didn't even know yet her little boy was missing. She had been sewing on a fancy gown for a fine lady that had to be finished in the morning. She thought her neighbor still had charge of her son.

  I think that is all the work we did. I obeyed my orders and came home as soon as we mustered out, to write this little bit. I am bone weary with the work of this week, and there is Magistrate's Court yet tomorrow. So much for good intentions and keeping a record of everything from my first week on duty.

  Monday, April 6, 246

  Court Day!!

  This last day before our day off, I had no time for breakfast. I gobbled stale rolls and cheese, then reported at seven in the morning to the Magistrate's Court for the Lower City. On Monday the Dogs of the Evening Watch account for those Rats they've bagged that week. They say what the Rats have done to warrant bagging and defend their actions in the bagging if need be. Tunstall and Goodwin will give the reports at the bidding of the Provost's Advocate and answer the questions of the King's Magistrate. The way it should work, the Puppies have little to do but pay attention against the day when they have to do the same. It's up to the Dogs who write the r
eports and who are there as each case unfolds to present the whole thing before the court.

  I had most of the long day to see that all I'd heard was true. Magistrate's Court is simple enough. Some Rats with a little coin or patrons have advocates to speak for them. These lawyers sometimes persuade the Magistrate (Sir Tullus of King's Reach covers Evening Watch's arrests) to order fines, lashes, time in the stocks or Outwalls Prison, or work inside Corus or on a farm instead of something worse. Hard sentences go from labor on the realm's roads, mines, docks, or quarries to death for the murderers and arsonists.

  I was familiar enough with the Jane Street court, having run messages there before I started my training. Still, it was odd, sitting in the Dogs' benches with Tunstall and Goodwin, my fellow Puppies, and their Dogs. Ersken had managed to slip into the seat next to me. Together we read what bored Dogs had carved into the low backs of the benches in front of us.

  Not that we spent all of our time hearing reports and admiring the history. Behind the Dogs' seats was the wall of bars that separated the business side of the court from the visitors' side. Plenty was going on back there. Some of the folk on that side were family, friends, and sweethearts of the Rats who took their sentences that day. They had all matter of things to say, whether we were the Dogs who had vexed them or no. Then there were those who'd come for amusement's sake. Along the wall behind the bars stood the Dogs whose work it was to keep order.

  When I got bored with the crowd, I watched the court officials. They were set up in front of the Dogs' benches. There was a table for the Provost's Advocate, where he kept his many lists and notes, and another for any advocate hired by the Rats. We saw few advocates that day. The mages who served to keep order against any other mages sat on benches at the front of the room. The Magistrate's Herald sat next to just such a mage, his list in one hand and his staff in the other, when he was not reading out the name of the Rat, the names of the Dogs involved, and the charges. And at the great desk, higher than the rest of us, flanked by two uniformed soldiers to represent the King's authority, was the Magistrate himself. Sir Tullus had ruled on Evening Watch cases for six years. My lord said he was fair and knew more law than most. The Dogs said he was a bit impatient with dithering.