Two days later, Tal was ready for his journey. Traveling to Yhaunn and back would take no more than a tenday. That left Tal a comfortable margin before the next full moon, when he would need to confine himself to the cage once more. If he needed more time, he could ride hard and make the return trip in only three days.
He wore a heavy woolen jacket over a simple blue tunic and his leather riding breeches and long boots. Over it all he threw a heavy gray cloak with ties rather than an expensive clasp. With Perivel's big long sword in a simple leather scabbard and a plain bundle of clothes and rations slung over his shoulder, he looked more like one of the Hulorn's outriders than a young noble of one of Selgaunt's richest families.
He said his farewells to Eckert and left the tallhouse at dawn. Chaney awaited him outside.
'Ugh,' said Chaney by way of greeting.
'I thought I'd have to go looking for you,' said Tal. 'Sorry to get you up so early.'
'You didn't,' said Chaney. 'Long night. Don't ask.'
Tal suppressed a laugh but honored his friend's request. Chaney had probably drunk too much, gambled too much, or dallied too long with one of the tavern wenches he favored-probably all three. A few months before, Tal would have been at his side, indulging in the same wild behavior and providing the muscle to back up Chaney's barbed witticisms.
They walked up Alaspar Lane, turned west on Densar's Alley, and snaked around side streets before heading north on Galorgar's Ride. Passing beneath the fabulous water horses carved on the Klaroun Gate, they stepped onto the High Bridge. The wide span joined Selgaunt with Over-water, on the far bank of the Elzimmer River. To each side of the road were crammed tiny shops and ramshackle alehouses, the first and last effort by the petty merchants to separate travelers from their coins. Even at this early hour, the bridge was noisy with haggling voices and the rumble of cartwheels.
Beyond the High Bridge lay Overwater, a bustling staging ground for caravans and passenger carriages to the capital city of Ordulin. Tal had briefly considered booking such passage, but the convenience was outweighed by two other concerns. It was simple enough to give a false name when hiring a carriage, but there was always a chance that one of the other passengers would recognize an Uskevren. Moreover, the carriages traveled at a leisurely pace, taking five days for a journey that would take a lone rider only two.
Halfway across the High Bridge, Tal smelled grilled sausages and fresh bread as he and Chaney passed a tiny bakery beside the eastern rail. Far below, boatmen poled their barges across the Elzimmer, ferrying goods and passengers to the caravan staging area in Overwater or out into Selgaunt Bay.
'You want something to eat before setting off?' asked Chaney. He eyed the sausages greedily.
'Eckert made breakfast,' said Tal, 'but you go ahead.'
'Ah…' Chaney made a show of searching for his purse. 'Don't you have any change left?' The day before, Tal had given his friend a big leather purse containing more than a hundred gold fivestars.
'You said you wanted a really good horse.'
'For that much, it had better have wings,' warned Tal. Still, he chuckled and put a pair of silver ravens in Chaney's hand. 'Get me one of those little loaves with the cheese inside.'
'Um, why don't you get the food?' said Chaney, returning the triangular coins and looking over Tal's shoulder.
Tal followed his glance and spied a short, pot-bellied man standing beside a shallow alley between a fishmonger's shop and a cartwright's shack. The man was shorter than Chaney but with fish-white skin and thinning hair that formed a laurel around his head. He ignored Tal and impatiently crooked his finger at Chaney.
Tal.turned back to Chaney. Trouble?'
'No,' said Chaney, but he glanced at Perivel's sword over Tal's shoulder. 'I just need a word or two with this fellow.'
'I hope she was worth it,' joked Tal.
'Believe me,' said Chaney, 'she wasn't.'
Tal sighed. He knew it was more likely a gambling debt than an offended brother or husband. 'Need some money?' he offered.
'It's not that,' said Chaney. 'Don't worry. Won't be a minute.'
He hurried across the cobbled street and disappeared into the alley with the short man, who put his arm around Chaney's slim shoulders in a patronizing gesture that Tal instantly disliked. He strained to hear what was happening, but the din of the traffic was too great.
He looked at the triangular silver coins in his hand, then slipped them into his jacket pocket and strode over to the cartwright's. He stood as close as he could without revealing himself to the alley's occupants. While he wanted to respect Chaney's privacy, he knew that some of the boaters lingered near the bridge to collect the reward for murdered bodies dropped from the High Bridge. It was already daylight, but Tal did not like the look of the man who had summoned his friend.
He cocked his head to listen and could barely make out some murmured words. Then he heard a painful gasp followed by hoarse coughing and retching.
Tal ran around the corner.
The space between the two little buildings was cluttered with junk. Stinking pots offish heads and offal lined the wall of the fishmonger's. At the far end was the stone bridge railing, rising three feet above street level.
Chaney was pressed up against the cartwright's shack. Two big men held his arms fast. One of them was bald, with an elaborate web of gold hoops and chains linking his left ear with his left nostril. It was the latest fetish among Selgaunt's elite, but Tal doubted this bruiser had bought it originally. More likely, some foolish young nobleman was walking around with a torn earlobe and nostril. The other big man was a hairy brute whose patchy beard barely concealed the network of scars that had ruined his face.
In the hammy grip of his captors, Chaney looked more thin and fragile than ever. The pot-bellied man dealt the beating. His eyes never left Chaney's as he spoke in a harsh whisper.
'… too late,' he was saying. He grunted as he delivered another punch to Chaney's gut. Around his hands he wore hard leather strips studded with iron. 'What made you think-?'
The man's rough voice cracked as he felt himself suddenly lifted from the slick cobblestones and hurled six feet away, where he smashed into the fishmonger's waste pots.
The men holding Chaney released him and took a step toward Tal, hesitating when they saw the big sword in his pack. Tal grinned back at them and tossed the sword and pack aside. The bald man raised his fists and stepped forward.
Tal was faster, stepping into the attack and batting away the man's guard with his left arm. His right fist flattened the man's nose and snapped his head back against the shack wall. Stunned, the big man sank to one knee. He shook his head, sending streamers of blood across both cheeks. The nose-ring fell away to dangle from his ear alone.
The other bruiser stepped between Tal and the pot-bellied leader, who shook fish guts from his arms.
'Stay out of this,' he warned, glowering at Tal. 'It's nothing to do with you.'
'Go back, Tal,' said Chaney. He remained where the brutes had held him and looked shaken but not seriously hurt.
The scar-faced man gave his boss a hand up, but he slapped it away and struggled back to his feet on his own. He was soaked from the waist down. 'Listen to your friend.'
'Chane,' said Tal, 'you know I can't just stand by and let-'
'Please, Tal,' pleaded Chaney. 'We're just going to talk.'
'That's right,' agreed Potbelly. 'We're just having a little philosophical discussion.'
Tal hesitated. He knew he was making things worse for Chaney, but he couldn't stand the thought of letting him suffer a beating.
'Then talk,' said Tal, 'but touch him again, and we'll find out whether you can swim.'
'On second thought, maybe this does involve you,' sneered the man. He glanced at his henchman and nodded at Tal. When they hesitated, he shouted, 'Get him!'
By the wall, Chaney slapped a hand over his eyes.
Tal made a quick feint toward Baldy. When the bald man obligingly flinched, Tal turned quickly and kicked Scarface in the stomach. The man doubled over with a whoosh of breath.
Baldy threw his meaty arms around Tal's shoulders. He was even stronger than he looked, lifting Tal off the street. Tal shot an elbow into his gut, and the man relaxed his grip for an instant, only to shift it into a choke hold.
