Beka Cooper 1 - Terrier Page 21

  "You're a bad lad," Goodwin said, her eyes alight. "Let's go see Dawull."

  Dawull held court at the Fog Lantern, near Kingsbridge. It was actually in Flash kennel's territory, since Jane Street's ended at Justice Way. The rules were, Jane Street Dogs could visit district chiefs without asking leave of other kennels, since we had the Court of the Rogue in our territory. How well that worked usually depended on the Dogs involved. In this case, Flash kennel didn't care what we did.

  Tunstall and Goodwin saluted Dawull's sentries on the approach to the Fog Lantern. The rushers looked like they'd swallowed sommat nasty, but none would say anything to my Dogs' faces. In the shadows I saw runners head off down the alleys to warn Dawull. Maybe they went to tell Kayfer and other folk as well. I wished my Dogs had brought some of the packmates who'd been at the Mantel and Pullet. What if Goodwin and Tunstall had given in to the kind of carelessness that got us in trouble at the Barrel's Bottom? I'd hoped to lose the last bruise on my face before I got new ones.

  We were almost there when someone gave a two-fingered whistle that almost blew apart the fog that was coming up off the Olorun. One of Dawull's lookouts grabbed his club. Another one, standing in a second-floor window across the rutted street, waved him off.

  Three people came toward us from the Kingsbridge end of Rovers Street, two men and a woman. Lady Sabine wore a long tunic in the men's fashion, her sword and dagger sheaths and belt well polished, and slippers on her feet. Her cloak was fastened over one shoulder, leaving her sword arm bare. She'd bound her hair up in a net with small pearls stitched on it. She looked...nice. Ladylike. She even wore rings on two fingers of each hand, though none of them were big.

  The men who walked with her were knights. They plainly expected everyone to know that, though they wore no armor. They wore long tunics and cloaks like Lady Sabine. There was more gold and gems on their sheaths and belts, but they had weathered faces, and the weapons' hilts were plain. They moved like fighters. They also had that air most nobles have, the one Lady Sabine doesn't. It's the air that says normal folk must drop what they do and wait to see if they have to attend to the nobles.

  Lady Sabine walked forward a few steps. "You three – four, excuse me, Master Pounce – blend in so well," she said as my cat patted her shoe.

  I squinted through the fog. I hadn't even known Pounce had arrived until that moment.

  "I find you in the most dreadful places. Didn't you have enough of Rovers Street last week?" the lady asked.

  "It's not given to us to choose where we must walk, milady," Goodwin told her.

  "Oh, aye, it is," grumbled the lookout closest to us.

  "Silence, lout," commanded one of the knights, who'd come nearer. "You were not addressed."

  Sabine rolled her eyes.

  "We're on Dog business, Lady" Tunstall explained. He reached out, casual-like, and cuffed the lookout on the ear. "We're paying a visit to Dawull."

  "Chief of Waterfront," Goodwin explained. "It's one of the Rogue's districts. We mean to rattle his trap."

  "That sounds amusing," Lady Sabine remarked. "Lads, I have an idea. Let's go watch my Dog friends annoy this criminal. We don't really want to go to my Lord of Naxen's party. You know it will be boring to madness. All kinds of noble maidens will simper at you, and their mothers will scowl at me."

  Goodwin looked at Tunstall, who shrugged. The two men talked it out in whispers. Finally we walked on, with the two noblemen beside Tunstall and Lady Sabine with Goodwin, Pounce, and me.

  "We had an invitation to supper at my Lady of Hollyrose's in Highfields," she explained to my Dogs. "She's elderly, so it ended not too long ago. We decided to walk to my Lord of Naxen's party. The three of us served out in the hill country this last year, so we're used to more exercise than we've been getting of late."

  "But at least we had a choice about being in the hills, Sabine," joked the redheaded knight. "We could have gone home as we liked. You had to wait until His Majesty pardoned you."

  That made Goodwin look at her as we halted in front of the Fog Lantern. "You needed a pardon to come home?" she asked.

  "We had a misunderstanding," the lady said, her deep voice quiet. "It's over and done with." She walked through the open door of the tavern. "I wonder if the ale's any good."

  Her knight friends followed.

  Tunstall waited until they were well inside before he whispered, "Those two had better not be interested in her." He walked in, leaving Goodwin, Pounce, and me to follow.

  "The big looby," I heard Goodwin mutter. "Never get involved with the nobility. Everyone knows that. Everyone."

  I remembered the rumble in his voice when he'd said that about the knights being interested in her. "I think he forgot."

  Into the common room we went, following the nobles. Dawull and his favorites held the far corner. Dawull's rushers and their mots, and his thieves, robbers, and lickboots sat everywhere else, along with Players and gamesters hoping to win some coin from the regular customers. Dogs and children played on the floor whilst maids tried to serve everyone.

  At just this moment, though, all was silent. Lady Sabine and her two friends surveyed the room. They looked as out of place as I would have looked at their supper in Highfields. I had a mad wish to giggle and bit my lip.

  The blond knight looked at three river dodgers who held the nearest table. He didn't even bother to speak. He simply snapped his fingers at them and jerked his thumb. Surely, I thought, they'll throw the table at him.

  But meek as priests' finches, they went to another table. That same knight beckoned to a serving maid as the two noblemen seated themselves. She thrust the neck of her dress lower, when it already did little enough to cover her peaches, and came to see what they would have. When Lady Sabine took her seat with them, the wench actually glared at my lady.

  Dawull saw us on the stair and got to his feet with a grin. "Heads high, my pets!" he bellowed. "I smell" – he swung that great red head around, sniffing loudly – "dank fur. Piddle. Scummer. Dogs."

  Some laughed. I saw movement in a hall to one side that I'd wager led to the privy, since Aniki came out adjusting her belt. She noticed us and waved. I only nodded, since waving back was not something dignified and Dog-like. Pounce didn't worry himself with such things. He bounded across the floor, jumping onto a four-legged cur's back and up into Aniki's arms. She smiled and gave him a good scratch, but her wary eyes were on the three of us as we walked toward Dawull.

  His rushers had their swords half drawn when we stopped ten feet from him. Goodwin put her hands on her hips. Tunstall scratched the back of his neck, as if he did nothing in particular. I clasped my hands before me and set my feet in the rest position. I wished I had my baton out, but drawing it now would put Dawull's back up. I stayed alert for movement on my sides. I was very glad Lady Sabine had decided to come with us rather than go to a stupid party. I couldn't be sure if her friends would help us, but I knew she would. And she was behind me. I need not fear with Lady Sabine present.

  "We're looking for Crookshank," Goodwin said. "Tell him to stand forth."

  For a moment all was still. Then the laughter began. My Dogs' shoulders didn't even twitch, so I held steady and kept my face still.

  When the laughter had quieted some, Dawull bellowed, "Crookshank! I think they stopped watering the ale at the Mantel and Pullet, woman! We have no scales tucked under the tables, have we, friends?"

  "No," came the replies. The comic Players, or those who pretended to be, made a game of looking under tables, benches, and the mots' skirts. More than a few earned cuffs and boxed ears from the mots who objected.

  Goodwin waited for quiet to return. Then she said, "But we were certain we'd find him with you, Dawull. You have become his back scratcher. Clever trick, to act like you hustled the old man out of the Court. You saved your friend before Kayfer decided to carve him. Too bad riches alone can't buy you the Rogue's crown."

  "Is this a jest?" roared Dawull.

  "Do I smile?" Goodw
in asked, quick as a snake. "How does Crookshank buy you, Dawull? Where does he get coin enough to buy a chief of the Rogue?"

  One cove seated near Dawull lunged to his feet and cleared his sword from his sheath. "Mangy bitch," he said. "You'll eat your lies."

  I heard another sword clear its sheath. This blade was in Aniki's hand, resting there like a natural part of her arm. She could have drawn it to back up Dawull's man, to help us, or to be ready for a fight.

  "Hold!" yelled Dawull, to them and to the others who were getting to their feet, weapons in hand. "Hold, curse you, or you'll tangle with me."

  "But sayin' you was bought, Dawull, sayin' you was in the service of that bloodsucker," complained his guard. His sword hung from his hand, useless. "Dog or no, she's got to be taught!"

  "What do I care what some fleabit gutter crawler says?" Dawull asked. "Unless you believe her?" He glared at his man.

  The killer shrank under Dawull's glare. If he had an imagination, he was imagining his bones were cracking. "No, no. That's why I was going to – "

  "Kill a Dog and a thousand Dogs have their teeth in your neck, ducknob! And you'd have to kill all three, besides them loaners back there." He pointed to Lady Sabine and her two friends. "That's why you need me to run this lot." He glared now at all of his cronies. "I'm the only one of you with this." He tapped himself on the head with a finger the thickness of my baton.

  "A head?" I heard Tunstall murmur for Goodwin and me alone. Goodwin shifted slightly on her legs. I knew she wanted to kick him to silence him. Some folk show that they laugh in the oddest ways.

  "Now sheathe that bread knife of your'n," Dawull ordered his man, not knowing Tunstall had even squeaked. "You too, girl. Good that you're eager, but whatever they do in Scanra, we don't go dousing Dogs just because they've no manners."

  It was only after the man put away his sword that I heard the music of Aniki's blade sliding back into its sheath.

  "Crookshank was a mad old man that night. Kayfer remembered it when he cooled off – that's why I got Crookshank out of there. We need the bloodsucker and them like him. But me being bought?" Dawull laughed, though not well. "You Dogs shouldn't drink hotblood wine during your watch. It makes you think crazy things. There isn't a cove or mot in Corus as could buy me, unless it was old Roger himself with the crown's jewels."

  I heard the scrape of wood as the knights started to rise.

  Dawull bowed toward them. "Gods save His Royal Majesty and his lovely Queen. I meant no disrespect," he told them, oil nearabout dripping from his lips. I glanced back. Slowly – very slowly – the two men sat, their hands on their sword hilts. Knights could be touchy about respecting the King. Still, Lady Sabine had her head propped on her hand. If she'd made a move to get up, she had settled again quickly.

  Goodwin looked around the room. "Just remember, when it's Crookshank you're taking orders from, we warned you." She turned to Tunstall and me. "Let's sit for a time." As we wandered back to the knights' table, she muttered, "That's why he has a head. Lout."

  Lady Sabine grinned as we came near. "I thought we might have to fight our way out again. Have a seat. These two don't mind. They diced with the soldiers under their command for the last year. Those people barely bathed."

  "But it's different in Corus," protested the blond one, though he waved Goodwin onto the bench next to him. He was already giving Pounce a scratch, so I decided he couldn't be too bad, for a knight. "Our families are sticklers."

  "Never mind your families," Sabine told them. "I want to know who Crookshank is."

  "Who cares about a cityman?" the redheaded knight asked. "He's not a real problem, is he? Not like the hill raiders."

  Tunstall raised an eyebrow. "Anyone I might know?"

  The redheaded knight leaned forward. "We had this one clan – "

  The blond knight got to his feet. "Excuse me. I didn't come home to talk about the hills. A green-eyed wench over there wants to fall in love with me."

  "For now," Sabine murmured as he crossed the room. The wench who'd gotten his attention was one of the higher-priced doxies there, wearing a dress and earrings that did not come from Cheappretty Row.

  Pounce grumbled and walked over to me. "I hope he's got coin in his purse," Goodwin told Sabine. "Elsewise he'll turn up missing his gems and gold."

  "Don't worry about him," Sabine told her as Aniki slid into the seat the knight had left. "None of the hill doxies could pluck him, and they use clubs. Besides, Joreth is all kinds of fat in the purse, and he loves to pay double when he's happy." She turned. "Are you sure it's wise to sit here?" she asked Aniki, who had come over to us.

  "I can always tell him I was sounding you out for possible robbing later," Aniki said with her usual cheerful grin. "Besides, he knows me'n Beka live in the same lodging house. Or he will later, because I'll tell him. Or did I tell him last night?" She laughed. "I'm Aniki Forfrysning." She smiled at Goodwin. "Hullo, Guardswoman." She leaned down and kissed Pounce on the head. He glared up at her and said, Stop that! in cat. Aniki glanced at Tunstall, but he and the redheaded knight were deep in talk concerning hill people they both knew.

  "Actually, I'm glad you came over," Sabine told Aniki. "I wanted a look at that blade of yours, if you don't mind. It sounds like an Anjel sword."

  Aniki nodded. Standing, she removed her sheathed blade from her belt and laid it before Lady Sabine. "One of Master Watson's own forging," she said with pride. "I won't tell you who I had to kill to be able to afford this."

  I think she was joking.

  When Pounce, Goodwin, Tunstall, and I left, Aniki and Lady Sabine were still talking swords. Moreover, Tunstall had promised to return for drinking and more conversation about what was going on in the eastern hills of Tortall.

  "Is that why you're going back?" Goodwin asked. "Just catching up on the other barbarians that survived their yearly bath? I'm not going with you, Mattes. And I won't like it if one of Dawull's idiots decides to kill a Dog anyway, even an off-watch Dog."

  We walked out into mist so thick we could barely see. Pounce grumbled that he hated this kind of weather.

  "I'll be with two knights, Clary," Tunstall said. "And I'll take a sword from the armory after we muster off watch."

  It did seem that Tunstall with a sword was more comforting to Goodwin than Tunstall on the street without her. "Just don't get hurt," she warned him as we walked along. "Me and Cooper aren't going to shake the trees for whoever's hiring diggers all by ourselves."

  You're not, Pounce said. You'll have me. He looked at me, his strange purple eyes gleaming. Of course, they don't know that. And don't you tell them.

  I wouldn't dream of it, I said as we wandered down the street to the kennel.

  Thursday, April 9, 246

  Before training, afternoon.

  When I opened the door this morning, before I even had my hair braided, Kora stood there with a jar of pears pickled with currants and almonds. Her long eyes were flashing with anger. I could swear I saw blue-green sparks stuck in her lashes.

  "A lily pendant on a gold chain," she told me. "Enamel on gold. Maybe so big." She held a thumb up, bending the first joint. "There was a mot at the Glassman Square fountain who was trying to get bacon grease from her man's shirt. We got to talking of the Shadow Snake. She said her neighbor's girl was taken. The lass's father gave up the necklace he bought his wife to the Shadow Snake."

  I took the jar. "And the little girl?"

  Kora picked up my cat and cuddled him as if she needed to touch something soft. "The Snake gave her back. She wet the pallet she slept on after, though. And it wasn't two moons later, my Birdie told me, before the whole family packed their things and moved from Corus altogether. They said they were going to Barzun, where the only snakes could be killed with a spade." I think I heard her sniff. "He did that to a little girl for a necklace."

  "But that's why no one's cared about this Snake, love." Rosto leaned against my door frame. He could be so quiet on my creaky stairs.

&nbs
p; I nodded. "Because he goes after folk whose lives are so small no one else thinks they have aught of value," I said. Like herb women with lung rot and five little ones who live on Mutt Piddle Lane. Mama's last man had been kin to the Shadow Snake, thinking no one would take vengeance for her. And just as he did, the Shadow Snake would learn how wrong he was.

  "I like Lady Sabine, Beka," Aniki said, coming over from her rooms with a cheese and bread halves from yesterday's breakfast. "You should have come back to the tavern after your shift last night. She and Tunstall were doing sword dances like they have in the eastern hills. It was fun."

  I shivered. The thought of Tunstall throwing his long legs about in any kind of dance is fearsome. Still, it makes me wonder if Goodwin shouldn't maybe get used to the idea of him and Lady Sabine being friendly, or more than friendly. Tavern dancing usually leads to dancing at home, Mama always said.

  I opened the shutters. The pigeons fluttered down, just a handful so early – Slapper, White Spice, Pinky, Mumper, Ashes. None of them said more that was new as I gave them the last of my cracked corn and some bread. They mourned the loved ones who thought they had been left behind. They whispered of the pink city rock. They fought each other over space on my ledge and strutted, cooing as if they had naught in their minds but eggs and feathers.

  Of my other, human friends, Verene and Phelan arrived holding hands and carrying hot fritters. Ersken brought half a ham and a cheese tart. We'd invited some of our fellow Puppies, but none of them lived as close as Verene or Ersken nor wanted to roll out of bed so early.

  Rosto not only brought more twilsey and raspberry jam, but he gave me a good-sized bag of cracked corn for the silly birds. If he'd given me aught for myself, I could have said no, but corn for the idiot pigeons I'd never turn down.

  He didn't try to take advantage, either. In fact, he was the first to go, saying he'd errands to run. The others, too, scattered early. Kora was the last to stand. She lingered, helping me to finish the straightening up.