Cheap prints of famous courtesans and actresses covered the walls. They were stained and peeling. The boards of the stairs were poorly sanded and a little warped. The huge chandelier was still impressive though. It looked like it had been salvaged from the wreckage of some factor’s mansion. It was as out of place here as a Princess’s gown on a scrofulous grandmother. The starbrights had dimmed at the touch of daylight. They would glow again magically come nightfall. Right now they were just inert chunks of crystal.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” he heard Weasel say. “It’s always a pleasure to take your money.”
He rounded a curve in the stairs and looking over the banister caught sight of the man himself. It was obvious the game had run on all night. Three other men were awake at the table, unshaven and red-eyed as Weasel himself. One of them was stark naked except for his hat and his pipe. Several others lay asleep on nearby couches. One or two had girls snuggled near them. One clutched a bottle under his arm and muttered something in his sleep. More empty bottles lay on nearby tables. Weasel looked around and said brightly; “Another hand?”
There was some muttering but no one looked like they wanted to take him up on it. Weasel grinned, and pushed a pile of clothing to the naked man with his feet. “You can have it, Ari. I can afford to be generous.”
“Rub it in, why don’t you?” said somebody else. Rik nodded and was about to walk past with Rena when Weasel called him over.
“A word, Halfbreed,” he said. “A word to the wise.”
He sounded more serious than usual, and Rik could tell from his expression that he had something more on his mind than merely cheating at cards. Perhaps he suspected that some of these men suspected him of it, and wanted back up to clear the house with his winnings. It would not have been the first time Rik had performed such a service.
“Yes?”
“There’s some stuff came up in conversation that I think you should know.” He nodded in the direction of his playing partners. They were hard-faced, hard-eyed men. If he knew Weasel they were probably something in the local gangs, not leaders but well up within the hierarchy. Probably all of them were involved in one or the other of the Quartermaster’s little schemes.
“Wait a bit till the Barbarian gets up, that way I won’t have to repeat myself,” Weasel said, his gaze shifting between Rik and Rena.
“You know what he’s like in a place like this. We might not see him again for days. We were just going to have breakfast. I am hungry.” The hangover put a whine in Rik’s voice.
“Fortunately, I had the foresight to send someone with a wakeup call.”
“He’ll never leave his bed for anything less than the building burning down, and not even then if he likes the girls.”
“We’ll see.”
A bull-like bellow from above let Rik know that the Barbarian’s wakeup call had arrived. Shortly thereafter he appeared, wearing only his britches and carrying his huge knife. He hopped down the stairs obviously having got a splinter in his foot. They creaked ominously beneath his weight. The pain was not making him any happier.
“Where is this bastard that says he can take any Northman here?” he roared. He was so angry his walrus moustaches bristled.
Rik looked at Weasel who shrugged as if to say it was the only way.
“He ran away when I told him you were coming downstairs,” said Weasel. The Barbarian looked a little mollified but glared around sullenly to see if anyone would take up the challenge. The local hard-men found other things to look at. Hard they might be, but crazy they were not. There was no profit for them in getting into a brawl with the likes of the Barbarian.
“Anyway, now you are up how about joining me and Rik for some breakfast?” Rena tugged at his arm as if to say this was not what she had in mind. Rik looked at her and said, “Wait a moment. This could be important.”
The Barbarian looked at them both and said; “You would not be having me on about anything, would you?”
“Would I do that?” said Weasel. “There is something I want to talk about though, and it is important.”
“It’s not about the books, is it?” said the Barbarian glancing at them both significantly and winking. Rik shuddered. Weasel put his hand on the Barbarian’s shoulder and said to Rena; “I promised him a book with dirty pictures in it. He can’t read but he likes to look.”
The Barbarian looked at him as if he had gone mad, then slowly realisation dawned. It was written all over his face.
Weasel gave Rena a long hard look then handed her a coin. “Go and get us all something to drink, girl. All of this playing has given me a thirst. Get yourself something as well.”
Rena could take a hint. Her fist closed around the coin like a trap and she vanished through a side door. Weasel drew them all down to a nearby table. They all slumped into the chairs.
“What is it?” Rik asked.
“Vosh was right. There are Agante tribesmen in town. A fair number too.”
“So what? They come here to trade all the time,” said the Barbarian. “All the hill-men do. Even I know that!”
“Eagle Eye Ari over there says they are looking for somebody, somebody who answers to the description of our friend Vosh.”
“That’s his problem,” said the Barbarian.
“Vosh was not the only one they were asking about,” said Weasel. “They were asking about soldiers as well, just come back from the hills. Paying good mountain silver for the information too.”
“How does Eagle Eye know?” asked Rik.
“Because it’s his business to know,” said Weasel and tapped one long finger on the side of his nose. “It’s his trade. The others back him up too, and believe me, they are the sort of men who know these things.”
“You mean he’s one of those who took the silver?” Rik said.
“Ari’s a friend; he would never do that to me. He knows better.”
From his experience in Sorrow Rik doubted that. There were few things men would not do for money if the chance arose. Women too, for that matter. The image of Sabena, blonde and so innocent looking danced through his mind.
“Wait a minute,” said the Barbarian. “You mean those hill-men might be looking for us?”
“I knew you would get there eventually,” Weasel said.
“But why?”
“Revenge for their dead kinfolk. Maybe. Just a thought.”
Revenge was something the Barbarian understood very well. It was the sort thing that happened all the time in his cold homeland. His answer did not surprise Rik.
“Bring them on,” he said.
Rik shook his head. It was bad enough being shot at when he was on duty. Now it looked like he might have some murderous hill-men after him even when he was not. “Maybe we should tell the Watch.”
“And what will they do? If the Agante give them a little silver they will probably help find us.” There was something about Weasel’s pleased expression that told Rik he was saving the worst till last.
“Why do I have a feeling you are not telling us everything?”
“Also I think I have a real lead on a buyer for our little book collection…”
Rik felt his heart sink. That he desperately wanted to hold onto them for as long as possible was not something he was going to tell Weasel.
“A buyer? Who?”
“There’s an old rich guy, a factor for the Selari, name of Bertragh, has a mansion in the merchant’s quarter.”
“I hope you did not mention anything about our books to anybody,” said Rik.
“Give old Weasel some credit. His name came up in conversation as we were playing.”
“That was convenient.”
“Seems Ari’s boys have sold him stuff in the past. He’ll buy any sorts of old books, no questions asked. Has a
