The Republic of Thieves

1

“FOURTHSON VIDALOS,” SAID Josten. “Would that your parents had stopped at their third! How many nights have you spent leaning against my bar, eh? How many times have I brought you in out of the rain for a glass? You two-faced son of a—”

“For the gods’ sakes,” said Vidalos, “do you think I wanted this? It’s my duty!”

“In front of half the Konseil and the entire Deep Roots—”

“Josten,” said Locke, stepping between the innkeeper and Vidalos, “let’s talk. Herald, how do you do? I’m Lazari, an advisor.”

“Whose advisor?”

“Everyone’s advisor. I’m a solicitor from Lashain, retained in a broad capacity. I require a moment in private with Master Josten, to discuss his options.”

“I don’t see that he has any,” said Vidalos.

“Do you have orders to refuse us a few minutes for reflection?” said Locke.

“Of course not.”

“Then I’ll thank you not to enforce orders you haven’t been given.” Locke put an arm firmly around Josten’s shoulders, turned the sputtering innkeeper away from the herald, and whispered, “Josten, one thing. Are you absolutely certain your license is truly paid up?”

“I have a signed receipt in my papers. I could fetch it now and shove it up this powder-blue pimp’s ass! Until tonight, I would’ve called the bastard a good friend, on my honor. I never would’ve thought—”

“Don’t think,” said Locke. “I’m paid to do that for you. Herald Vidalos isn’t your enemy. It’s whoever summoned him to work and gave him a warrant that somehow urgently needed to be served at half past the tenth hour of the evening, do you follow?”

“Ah,” said Josten. “Ahhhhhhh.”

“We shouldn’t abuse the poor bastard whose boots are on the pavement,” said Locke. “Our troubles come from higher offices. Nikoros, get over here! Look at this seal and signature.”

“Capability Peralis,” said Nikoros. Sweat ran down his forehead in glistening lines. “Second Clerk, Magistrates’ Court. I’ve heard of her.”

“She wouldn’t need an actual magistrate to sign this?” said Locke.

“No,” said Nikoros, “magistrates only sign off on, uh, arrests.”

“And this,” said Locke, “is just a little sting in the ass. Is she Black Iris? Or any of her superiors?”

“Not according to my lists,” said Nikoros. “Most of the people at the court make a point of not, uh, not declaring for either party.”

“Well, someone got her to perform a favor.” Locke suddenly became aware that most of the party, rank on tipsy rank, were watching closely to see if their mountain of fine liquor was really to be severed from them on the word of a single nervous functionary. “I don’t suppose Konseil members can just order Vidalos to make himself scarce?”

“Magistrates are, ah, co-equal with the Konseil,” said Nikoros. “Their heralds don’t have t-to take orders from anyone else.”

“Well, our drunk friends are going to hang this poor bastard from the rafters if I let this go through.” Locke turned back to Herald Vidalos, grinning broadly. “Everything seems to be perfectly in order!”

“It gives me little satisfaction,” said Vidalos.

“I’d have thought you’d be happy,” said Locke, “since there’s absolutely no need for you to shut down the party.”

“Having delivered the warrant,” said Vidalos, “it pains me to report that I’m bound to carry out my directions therein; I have to observe that Master Josten has ended this affair and sealed his doors to new customers.”

“Begging your pardon, but you’re not allowed to do anything of the sort,” said Locke. “That’s premature restraint of trade, which is forbidden under the Articles of Karthain. Whoever signed this warrant should have known that Josten is entitled, by law, to verification of these charges before a magistrate—”

“But—”

“Prior to interruption of commerce!” continued Locke. “Look, this is fairly basic stuff from that amendment business about, what—twenty years ago.”

“I … really?” Vidalos’ face lost some of its plum color. “Are you quite sure? I’m not entirely familiar with that. And I have served a number of similar—”

“I’m fully bonded for practice in Karthain. Imposition of penalty without proper verification of these charges would expose you to censure for negligence, the penalties for which could be … well, of course you know what they could be. Let’s not dwell on them.”

“Um …” said Vidalos. “Uh, of course.”

“So, you’ve served your warrant in front of the most credible body of witnesses the city could hope to produce. I accept the warrant on Josten’s behalf and formally request a magistrate’s verification of its charges. Since we can’t possibly have that until at least tomorrow morning, the party must continue.”

“Ha! That’s served you out,” shouted someone within the crowd. “Shuffle off, tipstaff!”

“None of that!” yelled Locke. “For shame! This man is a good friend to this house, given the awful task of serving this warrant against his will. And did he flinch? No! Obedient to duty, he stepped into the lion’s den!”

“Hear him,” cried Firstson Epitalus. Whether he realized the stupidity of needlessly making an enemy of Vidalos or merely wished his own voice to ring loudest in any acclamation, Locke blessed him. “Karthain should be proud to have such an honest and fearless fellow in its service!”

People immediately followed Epitalus’ lead. Catcalls that had barely started up were replaced with a rising swell of applause.

“I regret my harsh words,” said Diligence Josten, propelled toward Vidalos by a subtle elbow from Locke, and fully taking the hint. “Give me your pardon, and have a glass with us.”

“Oh, but …” Vidalos seemed pleased, relieved, and embarrassed all at once. “I’m on duty—”

“Surely not,” said Josten. “The warrant is served, so your duties are finished.”

“Well, if you put it that way—”

Josten and several accomplices enfolded the herald into the crowd and shuffled him toward the liquor supply.

“Oh, thank the gods,” muttered Nikoros. “I had no idea you’d picked up such a knowledge of Karthani law, Lazari.”

“I haven’t,” said Locke. “When the sky’s falling, I take shelter under bullshit. Someone’s going to figure that out soon enough tomorrow.”

“Then there’s no such statute?”

“Fake as a man with three cocks.”

“Really? Damn! It sounded so r-reasonable. Lying to an officer of the court is an offense they could—”

“That’s not worth worrying about. If pressed I’ll use the never-fail universal apology.”

“What’s the n-never-fail universal apology?”

“ ‘I was badly misinformed, I deeply regret the error, go fuck yourself with this bag of money.’ But it shouldn’t come to that. First thing tomorrow, we need to reach this Capability Peralis. If Josten’s papers are magically found to have been ‘misplaced,’ then the whole affair dries up before it can call further attention to itself.”

“And if she won’t roll over for us?” said Jean, who’d been hovering nearby.

“We get someone else. First Clerk, maybe, or an actual magistrate. We’re buying ourselves a little corner of the Magistrates’ Court tomorrow, come hell or Eldren-fire. When do the courts open?”

“Ninth hour of the morning.”

“Be outside our door at eight.”