Anyone skulking around in a cloak on so warm a day was bound to collect stares. Anyone skulking around in the purple-and-green colors of House Burkus could expect a helping of snide laughter as well.
Shankey, anonymous out of his house uniform, almost felt sorry for the man but for the fact some of the amus.e.m.e.nt was spilling onto himself. He was so obviously the skulkee.
Before ducking inside to ask yet another wary proprietor about a guest who might be walking about in-oh, gawds-a cat mask, Shankey decided he"d had enough. He strode purposefully to a shop doorway where his skulker had attempted to conceal himself. People in the shop watched with interest.
"h.e.l.lo, Debreban," he said, looking down.
Debreban attempted to appear casual, as though crouching in doorways was quite the normal thing to do. "Oh, uh, hi, Shankey. What are you doing here?"
"My lady sent me out to look for something."
"It"s a good day for it. Nice seeing you."
Shankey made a face. "Cut the c.r.a.p, Debreban. We both know a little of what"s going on. Let"s have a beer and swap stories."
After a moment"s hesitation, Debreban stood up, brushing his knees. He was a well-built fellow, all blond hair and boyish charm, just a little short on talent in important areas, like following people who were neither blind nor deaf. "Well, itis getting close to lunch. . . ."
Shankey nodded in a friendly way and led off back to the inn, an unpretentious two-story structure called "Clem"s Place," according to the sign. The bar was open, and the woman behind it informed them she could do them some cold meat, cheese, and bread, but if they wanted anything hot it would be another hour. They ordered accordingly and took their tray and huge flagons of foamy beer to a quiet table at the far end of the room. There they could put their backs to the wall and each keep an eye on the front entry. Their training made such caution second nature.
After a healthy guzzle of beer, Shankey gave a shuddering sigh of relief in reaction. "d.a.m.n, I needed that. Dry work out there."
"Dry work," agreed Debreban, belching. "What might that be?"
"I"m buying this round, so you go first." "Fair enough. Lord Cadmus told me to follow you and find out what you were doing."
"That"s all?"
"Sadly, yes. I wish he"d get a more interesting hobby than mooning after your lady all the time. I"m pretty sure it"s to do with Lady Filima."
"He knows I"m on one of her errands? How"s that?"
Debreban, who was slicing cheese with his fighting knife, waved it carelessly. "Probably something to do with magic. He has Talent, you know. Dabbles like some of the rest," he added, meaning the clan aristocracy in general. He lowered the knife and stuffed cheese in his mouth.
"Yeah, I"ve noticed that. They have way too much time on their hands." Shankey helped himself to bread and b.u.t.ter, laying the latter on generously. Being more respectful of his battle equipment, he used the flat, dull knife provided by the inn, sparing his own cherished blade for less mundane purposes. "But, what the h.e.l.l, so long as we have a job."
"That"s for d.a.m.n-sure. Now . . . what"s your side of it?"
Shankey took on a resigned expression. "Lady Filima wants me to find a man wearing a cat mask."
"Excuse me?"
"That"s what I thought. Couldn"t say it, though. Not to her face. p.i.s.ses her off when people question her orders. Have no idea why she wants him; I just do what I"m told. Makes life a lot simpler."
"A cat mask?" Debreban shook his head. "Is there a circus in town?"
"She said so, but I"ve not seen or heard sign of one. Been feeling like a fool asking around after him, too.
Seems more like a job for one of my errand runners, but she wanted me to see to it personally, so it must be important in some way I don"t know yet."
"He could be a thief," Debreban suggested. "Uses it as a disguise. But why wear a cat mask when a hood and m.u.f.fler would do just as well?"
"Thought of that, too. It"s nuts. Between you and me, I don"t think she knows who he is either or she"d have given me a name. Must be doing that magic stuff the same as your master. Why couldn"t she have gone in for embroidery or horse racing like some of the other clans in the city?"
"They"re a strange bunch, aren"t they?"
"That they are, my friend." Shankey hoisted his beer, relishing the moment. He enjoyed talking shop with another professional even if the fellow wasn"t nearly as experienced at the work. "At least the pay is good."
"When you get paid." Debreban was justifiably morose about the topic. It was well-known Lord Cadmus Burkus was forgetful when it came to the timely remuneration of his retainers. "Sorry, didn"t mean to air clan laundry." "That"s all right. If you weren"t sworn to his service, I"d invite you to come work for Lady Filima."
Shankey thought Debreban would do well once he got some proper training.
"You would? That"s decent of you. The whole house is hoping it might happen anyway."
"What? That Lord Cadmus finally marries her?"
Debreban nodded. "We"re hoping, but most don"t think she"ll accept him."
Shankey gave an expressive shrug. "Not unless h.e.l.l freezes over." In truth, he had no idea what the weather conditions in h.e.l.l might be and tended to conduct his life in such a way as to never find out firsthand.
"I wish it would," Debreban stated softly, but with a great deal of feeling under the words.
"Oh, yeah?" said Shankey, in a drawing-out tone.
"Don"t get me wrong, Lord Cadmus is a great master. He"s got no political ambitions, so there"s not a lot of work, just drills and stuff like that to keep us all polished."
"Much better doing that than real fighting," Shankey agreed. He drained away his beer, signed for another round, and dug into a slice of cold ham.
"But he needs a keeper. Someone to see to the practical side of running the household, you know?"
Debreban finished his first flagon and welcomed the next.
"Someone to see that he doesn"t overspend himself?"
"Exactly!" Debreban said. "Lady Filima would be perfect for him. She used to have to earn her way like the rest of us, so she knows the value of a penny. There"s no waste in your house, is there? Everyone gets paid on time? The whole town knows she"s smart that way."
Shankey felt a warm glow of pride that his lady"s reputation was taking on a new facet. In the early days of her marriage to Lord Botello the oochie-coochie dancer past had been rather hard to live down.
"True, all true."
"Then there you are," said Debreban conclusively.
Shankey nodded several times in agreement and made a mental note to return to this inn for more drink.
Whatever they did with the beer here was inspired. It usually took more than just two to make him feel this relaxed. Debreban was also looking happily mellow-in between his thoughtful frowns. It was good for a man to be so concerned about the welfare of his master, too bad that master was Cadmus Burkus.
Both men ate. And drank. On his fourth flagon, Debreban said: "If they got marriedshe"d be able to keep my lord Cadmus in line. Of course, there"s also the risk that he could beggar her. You know how some women get when they fall in love. She could go silly and give him all her money."
"Won"t happen.Won"t happen. Her falling in love. With him. She"s met him already. No offense." Debreban grunted, apparently used to popular opinion concerning his liege-lord. "Wish we couldmake it happen. It"s time my lord settled down, got himself a proper heir. He"s the last of his line, y"know. If he dropped dead today the whole household would be . . . be . . . something." With his flagon empty, his memory lapse was excusable. "Shouldn"t be allowed."
"Seems to me," said Shankey slowly, for he"d also found the bottom to his fourth beer, "seems to me, that all the advantage is onyour side. What would my lady get out of such a match?"
"Well, he"s a handsome fellow, has pretty manners, and makes a good joke. Very dedicated to the gentlemanly arts. He"d never mistreat her. That"s a fact. You know . . . you know . . . allhis old girl friends still like him?"
"Really?"
Debreban nodded solemnly.
"How does he manage that?"
A shrug. "Something to do with being a gentleman. Got himself trained up right. He"d give her good entertainment and some fine-looking children. If they got her brains and his looks-not that she doesn"t have a face a man could die for . . . but then that could be all reversed. The kids could end up withhis brains." He frowned again.
"That"s getting too far ahead. What benefit could my lady get from such a matchnow ?"
"Not a d.a.m.n thing that I can see-wait, she"d have a fine lover."
"I don"t want to know how you know that," said Shankey.
Debreban laughed himself into hiccups. "Ever"one knows he got some specialtraining inthat area."
Maybe that was why his old girlfriends still liked him. "Oh, yeah?"
"From what I understand, my lord isvery exceptional when it comes to putting a female into a good mood. Nothing keeps a woman home and happy more than a man who knows how to please her. If once your lady ever sampled his goods I"d bet she"d not be wasting time on magic and sending you off on errands looking for fools in cat masks."
Shankey hiccupped a few times, too, but managed to pull himself together. "You"ve got summin" there.
But how d"we make it happen? The very sight of him . . . well . . . it seems to annoy her to no end."
"I"m sure we can work out something to cure that," said Debreban, also making an effort to overcome his beer. He cut loose with an extended belch when he made himself sit up straight. "I am also, also,also sure that we won"t work anything out while we"re in this state."
"I am not drunk, my friend.This is just a little buzz."
"Didn"t mean to imply that you were. I was referring to this huge meal we just had." Indeed, their shared tray was bare of food, including crumbs. "I"m too full to think. But later today, after we"ve walked this off, we canstart thinking up something. A "master" plan." He giggled. "As in a plan for my master-get it?" But Shankey had his head sideways on the table, his eyes thickly glazed over. He managed to drool hearty agreement, though, to the idea of thinking up an idea.
A Few Streets Away From Clem"s Place The screaming had nothing to do with Terrin, for a change. Not at first. It did seem to have to do with a big guy dragging a little guy around by the neck. They emerged, yelling and cursing, from some tavern, and it looked to be a full-blown brawl. I didn"t know who started what, but my sympathies automatically went to the smaller fellow. Big guys who beat up on not so big people p.i.s.s me off. I wasn"t planning to get involved, but they both careened into me, knocking me hard over. Only by some fast footwork and an instinctive shift in balance did I manage to land square on my feet.
"Hey, a.s.shole, you might hurt yourself," I called out to the big one, annoyed. He"d done all the klutz-work. "He"s way out of your league, you know."
"Huh?" Still holding onto the other guy"s neck, he loomed toward me. Oh, boy, washe ugly, though it might have been the rage distorting his features. His eyes were pretty rabid. Must have been the booze.
At two yards I was getting high off his breath. "Whazzat to you?"
"I mean you"ll strain something if you keep dragging him around like that."
"Shaddup, freak!"
Bet he worked all day thinking up that riposte. He dropped the man and took a swing at me. He was big and fast, but I ducked, dancing clear, drawing him away from his original target.
Luggo rushed at me, roaring, but I dodged, and he plowed into a slower-moving bunch of people. None of them took the sudden a.s.sault too well and began beating on him in response. They seemed to be having a great time. He straightened and brushed them off, launching toward me to try for another round.
"Myhr! What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" Terrin came out of one of the shops to glare at me, probably p.i.s.sed that I wasn"t there to pay his bill.
"Just a little exercise." I avoided another fist. It also cut close. Too close. I couldn"t let this guy connect or he"d snuff me. "But I"m getting bored now."
"You started it, you finish it."
"It"s not my fight. He was afterhim ." I pointed at the little guy, who was still on the ground. He looked confused and unhappy.
"Oh, okay." Somewhere deep inside Terrin had a rusty sense of honor. His black candle still in hand, he stepped into the street and addressed the man trying to kill me. "Hey, you big-a.s.s jerk. Pick on someone your own size!"
Terrin"s just an inch or so over five feet. Nearly everyone he got in a fight with was taller. I"d yet to see him lose.
Mr. Drunken Lug turned on him. "Shuddup, shorty." Remarks on his height never bothered Terrin. "Both my feet are on the ground, that"s all that matters,"
he"d usually say.
But in this case his feet ceased to be on the ground. Launching a lightning-fast crescent kick, he caught Luggo"s chin solidly with the heel of his purple high-top sneaker. Our mutual non-friend dropped heavily to the cobbles and stopped moving.
"Ouchie," said Terrin, rubbing his b.u.t.t. Apparently he was still sore from last night"s dragging down the stairs.
"He"ll kill me when he wakes up," said the victim-guy.
"Not if you leave," I said. "After a knockout like that he won"t remember anything that happened today."
"He"llfind me!" he wailed.
I looked at Terrin. "He did seem the type."
He grumbled and grumped. "Why"s it always me?"
"Because you"re the best, of course." He liked being talked into things. Flattery helped.
He growled, but gave in to his fate. He went over to the unconscious man and held a hand out over his head. I saw a very faint shimmer, like heated air. "Okay, he"s fixed."
"Fixed in what way?" Never liked that word, "fixed."
"Every time he tries to hit someone, he"ll get an instant migraine."
"He won"t be able to defend himself, you know."
"I know. But he"s about due for some karmic payback."
"You hear that?" I asked the victim. "You"re safe now. He can still yell at you, though."
"What"d you do?" he wanted to know.
"Community service," said Terrin. He snagged my shirt sleeve. There was sweat on his white face, making all his freckles stand out. Hedid need some rest. "Come on, I need you to buy me some herbs."