the spot.'
'It is far too dangerous,' Wendric said.
'Too many of our members have already paid too high a price,' Magnus said in reply. 'If I do not share the same risks, I am not fit to be guildmaster in the first place. Anyway, I'll have Taene and Narsell with me, and I doubt there are any assassins capable of making their way past these two. If that should prove insufficient, however, I will also have Lucius at my side.'
Lucius looked up in surprise. 'Of course,' he heard himself say. 'I would be honoured.'
Wendric had the last words of the meeting.
'Be watchful instead.'
CHAPTER 15
Lucius had never felt more alive than he did at this moment. Magnus walked within a pace behind him, while Taene and Narsell brought up the rear, flanking the guildmaster. He felt his heart pounding, heard every sound in the crowded street, smelled every scent. Danger lurked in every passerby, in every alley they passed, within every window that opened as they walked underneath, or so he felt. After the Council had broken up, Elaine had approached him, making him swear to protect Magnus from harm whatever the odds. It was a promise he intended to keep.
Lucius' eyes flicked constantly, sweeping over every member of the crowd that thronged the street. The middle-aged woman manhandling several long Pontaine-style loaves and two children; was she disguised to appear older, her bread concealing a weapon as she moved closer? The kids, were they lookouts, gauging the guildmaster's defences in preparation for an ambush at the next junction? Were those Vos guards intentionally flanking them? Was that a shadow on the roofline, an assassin lining up a shot with a crossbow?
More than once, he had felt Magnus' hand on his shoulder, accompanied with an admonishment to relax or, at least calm down a degree. Magnus had taken precautions, wearing a cloak and wide-brimmed hat to disguise his appearance. To anyone casually walking past the tight, protective group, he might well have been no more than a wealthy trader or official with an exaggerated sense of self-worth. Even so, the mail shirt he wore under his cloak and leather tunic was an added insurance.
They had started their search in the Five Markets which, in Lucius' opinion, was close to madness. The ever- shifting crowds and sheer number of potential threats seemed overwhelming, and he noticed that even Taene and Narsell seemed nervous, their eyes in a permanent suspicious squint, heads turning to face every new sound. Looming over them were the walls of the Citadel, and Lucius could all too easily imagine some guard perched on the ramparts, sighting Magnus and feeling lucky with a crossbow.
Magnus, however, insisted that this is where they start, and he made a rough kind of sense. The Five Markets were among the busiest places in the city, and it was a natural congregation point for beggars. They were, thus, the power centre of the beggars and their presumed guild, though Lucius still had doubts about the homeless being able to organise themselves to any great degree.
Insisting on approaching any beggar directly himself, Magnus was met with suspicion at first, and sometimes a subdued hostility. They all feared the beggars had already been bought by the Guild. However, Magnus was lucky enough to be recognised by one — a foul-smelling woman in the later years of her life — who had a disturbing habit of scratching at her nether regions while holding a hand out for coin. Her directions, which Magnus paid handsomely for, led them to Ring Street and a grain house that lay between the two southern markets.
Crates and empty sacks were piled outside and these had been appropriated by nearly a dozen beggars, all looking dishevelled, miserable, and without purpose. A memory triggered in Lucius' mind, and he recalled seeing beggars gather here before. In the past, he had presumed they were the failures of the city's lowest citizens, those whose begging had been less than successful, and were now just waiting around to die. However, if what the old woman had told Magnus was to be believed, Lucius was in fact looking at the power base of the Beggars Guild.
'They don't look much,' he muttered, and felt Magnus' hand on his shoulder again.
'That is their strength,' Magnus said. 'Now, remember why we are here, and that we need their help. Beggars are outcasts, spurned by everyone, and so they expect no favours. But we must treat them with the utmost respect. Understand?'
Lucius nodded as he followed Magnus and the bodyguards as they approached the beggars. It was hard to identify some of them as men or women, but Lucius had the feeling they were a mix of both, young and old. Some slouched against piles of sacks made into makeshift beds, while others perched on top of crates. All seemed weary, and yet they regarded the entourage of thieves with guarded suspicion.
'Greetings,' Magnus began, holding up a hand.
'You've got no business here, sir, best you move along,' said one, a girl Lucius thought, though there was nothing feminine about her appearance.
'On the contrary, I believe there is business that would interest everyone here.'
'We're not looking for work, so if you have a ship or wagon train that needs unloading, go find your cheap labour elsewhere.'
'You misunderstand me — '
'It's okay Grennar,' said one of the men sitting cross-legged on the crates. He was wreathed in rags, and Lucius had taken him for a leper, or worse. He drew back his hood to reveal a middle-aged face, dirty, unshaven, but otherwise remarkably healthy. 'I think we can dispense with the deceptions this time. Magnus here is finding time rather against him at the moment. Is that not right, Magnus?'
'You know me?'
'We know everyone,' the man said with a sly smile. 'That is why you are here, is it not?'
Magnus tipped his head in acknowledgement. 'You have me at a disadvantage.'
'I know you are Magnus Wry, leader of the Night Hands and former lieutenant of the Thieves Guild of Turnitia. You already know my position among the beggars. But you may call me Sebastian.'
'I have a proposal for an alliance.'
'Of course you have,' Sebastian said, his voice warm but his eyes betraying a coldness. 'Your little den of thieves stands on the brink of annihilation, and you find many powerful enemies allied against you. You, Magnus, are desperate.'
'And you are on the outside, Sebastian,' Magnus said. 'The lowest of all in the city, ignored by everyone. Only I realise your true value.'
'So, we have your respect. Well, that is… nice.' The comment drew a small swell of laughter from the beggars, and Lucius saw Magnus turn to him, rolling his eyes at the contrived play between the two guildmasters.
'I can give you a great deal more than respect. Employment. Regular income. Work for all the members of your guild.'
'We already have work,' said Sebastian. 'And many of my beggars are richer than many of your thieves. Show him, Grennar.'
The girl smiled up at them, revealing a set of perfect teeth, then reached to her face to pick at a boil. Lucius stomach turned in disgust, then his eyes opened wide as he saw her peel the boil off. She repeated the action several more times, then spat on a cloth and wiped the dirt away, revealing a not unattractive face. Sebastian noted Lucius' look of surprise.
'It is all about deception,' he said. 'And yes, we know you too Lucius Kane, once exile of this city, returned a gambler, now rising star among the Night Hands — whatever
Lucius looked up at the beggar master in alarm, but kept his face neutral.
'You see, Lucius, we are not thieves or blackmailers. We have no interest in power, territory, or fame. So long as the city continues to exist, so will we. Our guild offers protection and a livelihood to the lowest, the most humble. That is why we are here, and that is the only thing we work towards.'
'We can help you,' Magnus said.
