Juliet McKenna - The Assassin's Edge

“Darni!” Shiv was furious. “So Planir trusts us, does he?”

“He’s shaved off his beard,” Sorgrad noted with approval. “Passes better for Tormalin that way, I reckon.” With his black hair and dark colouring the big man certainly bore more than a passing resemblance to the incurious passers-by.

“He might have some business nothing to do with us,” Usara suggested doubtfully.

“Even when he’s hiring out as a mercenary Darni’s about some scheme of Planir’s,” said Shiv grimly.

“Can we get rid of him somehow?” wondered Usara.

“You really want to break with Hadrumal?” Sorgrad looked surprised, then considered the task. “I can take him with a knife in the back down some back entry but I’m not going up against someone that size in broad daylight. We’ll get some gang of sworn men running in to spoil the fun for one thing.”

“I didn’t mean kill him,” protested Usara, horrified.

“What do you suppose he’s doing?” Shiv watched as a woman came to see whom the trader was talking to. She was tall and stout with improbably dyed hair and rouged like a child’s doll. Several other women hovered close by, gowns cut low and legs bare beneath their soiled skirts. They flanked a couple of malnourished girls, one with her wrists held tight by her hard-faced elder. Darni turned to talk to her, gestures curt, face intimidating. The whoremistress had plainly faced his type before and shook her head, unimpressed. Darni turned on his heel, heading further down the dock. The trader and whoremistress looked after him with resentment.

“Wait here.” Sorgrad darted across the cobbles to be welcomed by the woman with an avaricious smile. They exchanged a few words and then Sorgrad headed back towards the wizards with the youngest whore released from her captor.

“What do you suppose he wants her for?” asked Usara with alarm, seeing Sorgrad’s protective arm around the girl’s thin waist.

“I’ll get Pered to draw you a picture.” Shiv was quite nonplussed.

Sorgrad ushered the girl into the alley. “How much coin are you carrying?” he demanded of the mages.

“Pardon?” Usara looked blank but Shiv was already reaching for the purse he’d tucked prudently inside his breeches.

Sorgrad unbuttoned his shirt and pulled several gold and silver chains over his head. “Right, I told the old bitch there were three of us, so you should have time to run before they come looking for you.” He scooped up the marks and crowns that Shiv offered and pressed them into the girl’s trembling hands, bruises banding her wrists. “Buy a ride on some carrier’s cart to the far side of the pass before nightfall.” He stowed the jewellery in the girl’s meagre cleavage with impersonal efficiency. “Sell that before you sell yourself, chick.”

She looked at him with huge, hopeless eyes. “My da drowned last year and the scour took the babe and my mam with it. My auntie took the little ones but—”

“There’s a goldsmith on Angle Street,” said Usara with sudden inspiration. “Find a man called Renthuan there. Tell him Ryshad Tathel wants him to help you.”

A spark of life lit the girl’s fearful face. “Yes, masters.” She turned and ran down the alley away from the docks, fists clutching the coin to her bony breast.

Sorgrad watched her go with a shake of his head. “Whoring for sailors is no task for children.”

Shiv was looking at Usara. “Sending her to his money lender isn’t going to flatter Ryshad’s reputation.”

“Shall we go before that fat madam comes asking what we’ve done with her?” Usara looked apprehensively at the whoremistress who was fortunately busy with a handful of newly arrived sailors. “Did she say anything about Darni’s business?”

“He’s looking for a girl who he reckons is looking for a passage over the ocean. From the description, he’s after your Larissa.” Sorgrad was watching the woman now deep in negotiations. “Now, quickly.”

Neither Shiv nor Usara delayed as Sorgrad led them out of the alley and, unseen, away down the dock. He passed the first tavern beyond the Moon and the Rake but ushered the mages into the next; a sour-smelling, ramshackle place. “Over there.” He led them past a gang of men waiting for a boatswain to pay them off according to the figures chalked on their broad-brimmed, oiled-leather hats or the offside shoulder of their dark leather jerkins. A thickset man with a cudgel stood ready to discourage anyone keen to take more than their share from the coffer of coin.

“I think we should offer Darni a seat at the game,” announced Sorgrad.

Shiv leaned against a pillar. “Livak doesn’t like him.”

“Livak’s not rounding up a crew willing to fight pirates with just you two dancing masters to back her up.” Sorgrad grinned at Shiv. “Besides, Livak takes the runes as they roll, just the same as me. Darni’s big and scary and he’s useful with a sword. We worked together well enough in the Mountains and that counts for a lot.”

“If Planir’s concerned enough about Larissa to send Darni after her, we should surely let him know she’s safe.” Usara realised he was standing in a sticky pool of ale and looked down with distaste.

Shiv pursed his lips. “Do you think he’s here to haul her back to Hadrumal?”

“Possibly,” said Usara cautiously.

“If we’re taking a pretty piece like her on this voyage, she’ll need her own guard dog,” Sorgrad pointed out. “Otherwise you’ll find ’Gren playing her champion and slitting the throat of anyone stepping too close.”

“Darni’s no fool.” Shiv looked at Usara. “He’ll find us or her sooner rather than later. Don’t we want to have that conversation on our terms rather than his?”

Usara nodded. “He might let slip what Planir thinks of our little expedition.”

“Let’s go find him.” Sorgrad was already heading for the door.

Shiv grimaced. “It’s more cursed complications every way we turn.” He pointed a firm finger at Usara. “You can tell Livak.”

For someone who so dislikes the sea, I was spending entirely too much time aboard ships.

“Still feeling queasy?” The ship’s carpenter passed me leaning on the rail of the Eryngo .

“No, thanks all the same.” I glanced up to the crow’s-nest where several sailors were keeping as eager a vigil as me. “Any sign of the Dulse or the Fire Minnow ?”

Lemmell shrugged. “You’ll hear it the same as everyone else.” He came to stand beside me, one hand smoothing the rail like a man caressing a favourite hound. He loved this ship, always keen to point out some virtue to me, explaining to anyone who’d listen that the Eryngo was a quarter as long again as the biggest of the pirate ships, never mind half as broad again. That’s right, Haut the sailmaker would agree, and we carried more canvas and better rigged. I couldn’t decide if they truly knew the ship better than anyone else or were just hopelessly biased. Captains came and went at the whim of an owner and crews were hired from voyage to voyage but I’d learned boatswain, helmsman, shipwright and sail-maker stayed with a vessel from the first laying of the keel until it was either broken or rotted as a hulk. Some even kept wives and families in their canvas-walled cabins on the lower decks but Temar had forbidden, that on this voyage.

“Don’t you worry about pirates, my girl,” Lemmell continued. “We’ve high sides and a steep forecastle ready to repel boarders and the rear deck stepped to give D’Alsennin the best view of any fight.”

As the carpenter went on his way, I glanced towards the stern but D’Alsennin wasn’t up there. He was down on the main deck and seeing me, came over. “How much longer, do you think?”