trouble.
“The thief who stole the crown. And returned it. One of mine, though he was not acting under my orders in the first instance.”
“Oh,” the Burgrave said. “Well, he’ll have to be killed, of course.”
Malden nearly cried out.
“He knows my secret. I can’t have that.”
“Indeed.” Cutbill made another notation. “Understandable. Though …”
“What is it?”
Cutbill looked up from his ledger. “You said you would grant me a reward.”
“Yes, yes. Gold, jewels, what will you have? It can’t be anything official, of course. Nothing on paper.”
“Malden’s life. Spare it.”
Malden’s jaw fell open.
“Oh, come now! What do you care about one thief? You have dozens. Many more circumspect ones, at that. This one nearly got you killed.”
“But he didn’t. He proved far cleverer than he should have been.”
The Burgrave let out a curt laugh. “Enough reason I’d think you’d want him dead. Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental, Cutbill. I admit, I’d like to let him live myself, but reality is often unfair. You know that all too well.”
“Do not mistake me. I don’t ask out of a sense of justice. I have none. I ask because he could be an excellent earner, if I keep him under my thumb. He could make me quite a bit of money in the long run.”
The Burgrave studied Cutbill shrewdly. “You’ll keep him quiet?”
“I’ll sew his mouth shut if he threatens to speak out of turn.”
“Very well, then.” Then the Burgrave left the room, shaking his head in disbelief. He headed through the door that led back up to the Stink.
When he was gone, Malden stepped out of the spy room.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said, staring at Cutbill in gratitude.
“Say only that I won’t regret this,” Cutbill told him. “Now. You may go. Don’t come back until you have some money for me.”
Malden nodded and headed out, into the city that was his home.
