Wizard and Glass

'Like clockwork,' Reynolds said. 'Four tankers a night, in pairs, the last four nights. Renfrew's in charge, him of the Lazy Susan. Do you still want to leave half a dozen as bait?'

'Yar,' Jonas said, and there was a knock at the door. Depape jumped. 'Is that—'

'No,' Jonas said. 'Our friend in the black robe has decamped. Perhaps he goes to offer comfort to the Good Man's troops before battle.'

Depape barked laughter at that. By the window, the woman in the nightgown looked down at her knitting and said nothing. 'It's open!' Jonas called.

The man who stepped in was wearing the sombrero, scrape, and sandalias of a farmer or vaquero, but the face was pale and the lock of hair peeking out from beneath the sombrero's brim was blond. It was Latigo. A hard man and no mistake, but a great improvement over the laughing man in the black robe, just the same.

'Good to see you, gentlemen,' he said, coming in and closing the door. His face—dour, frowning—was that of a man who hasn't seen anything good in years. Maybe since birth. 'Jonas? Are you well? Do things march?'

'I am and they do,' Jonas said. He offered his hand. Latigo gave it a quick, dry shake. He didn't do the same for Depape or Reynolds, but glanced at Coral instead.

'Long days and pleasant nights, lady.'

'And may you have twice the number, sai Latigo,' she said without looking up from her knitting.

Latigo sat on the end of the bed, produced a sack of tobacco from beneath his scrape, and began rolling a cigarette.

'I won't stay long,' he said. He spoke in the abrupt, clipped tones of northern In-World, where—or so Depape had heard—reindeer-fucking was still considered the chief sport. If you ran slower than your sister, that was. 'It wouldn't be wise. I don't quite fit in, if one looks closely.'

'No,' Reynolds said, sounding amused. 'You don't.'

Latigo gave him a sharp glance, then returned his attention to Jonas. 'Most of my party is camped thirty wheels from here, in the forest west of Eyebolt Canyon . . . what is that wretched noise inside the canyon, by the way? It frightens the horses.'

'A thinny,' Jonas said.

'It scares the men, too, if they get too close,' Reynolds said. 'Best to stay away, cap'n.'

'How many are you?' Jonas asked.

'A hundred. And well armed.'

'So, it's said, were Lord Perth's men.'

'Don't be an ass.'

'Have they seen any fighting?'

'Enough to know what it is,' Latigo said, and Jonas knew he was lying. Farson had kept his veterans in their mountain boltholes. Here was a little expeditionary force where no doubt only the sergeants were able to do more with their cocks than run water through them.

'There are a dozen at Hanging Rock, guarding the tankers your men have brought so far,' Latigo said.

'More than needed, likely.'

'I didn't risk coming into this godforsaken shitsplat of a town in order to discuss my arrangements with you, Jonas.'

'Cry your pardon, sai,' Jonas replied, but perfunctorily. He sat on the floor next to Coral's rocker and began to roll a smoke of his own. She put her knitting aside and began to stroke his hair. Depape didn't know what there was about her that Eldred found so fascinating—when he himself looked he saw only an ugly bitch with a big nose and mosquito-bump tittles.

'As to the three young men,' Latigo said with the air of a fellow going directly to the heart of the matter. 'The Good Man was extremely disturbed to learn there were visitors from In-World in Mejis. And now you tell me they aren't what they claim to be. So, just what are they?'

Jonas brushed Coral's hand away from his hair as though it were ii troublesome insect. Undisturbed, she returned to her knitting. 'They're not young men but mere boys, and if their coming here is ka— about which I know Farson concerns himself deeply—then it may be our ka rather than the Affiliation's.'

'Unfortunately, we'll have to forgo enlightening the Good Man with your theological conclusions,' Latigo said. 'We've brought radios, but they're either broken or can't work at this distance. No one knows which. I hate all such toys, anyway. The gods laugh at them. We're on our own, my friend. For good or ill.'

'No need for Farson to worry unnecessarily,' Jonas said. 'The Good Man wants these lads treated as a threat to his plans. I expect Walter told you the same thing.'

'Aye. And I haven't forgotten a word. Sai Walter is an unforgettable sort of man.'

'Yes,' Latigo agreed. 'He's the Good Man's underliner. The chief reason he came to you was to underline these boys.'

'And so he did. Roy, tell sai Latigo about your visit to the Sheriff day before yesterday.'

Depape cleared his throat nervously. 'The sheriff . . . Avery—'

'I know him, fat as a pig in Full Earth, he is,' Latigo said. 'Go on.' 'One of Avery's deputies carried a message to the three boys as they counted horse on the Drop.' 'What message?'

'Stay out of town on Reaping Day; stay off the Drop on Reaping Day; best to stay close to your quarters on Reaping Day, as Barony folk don't enjoy seeing outlanders, even those they like, when they keep their festivals.'

'And how did they take it?'

'They agreed straight away to keep to themselves on Reaping,' Depape said. 'That's been their habit all along, to be just as agreeable as pie when something's asked of em. They know better, course they do—there's no more a custom here against outlanders on Reaping than there is anyplace else. In fact, it's quite usual to make strangers a part of the merrymaking, as I'm sure the boys know. The idea—'

'—is to make them believe we plan to move on Fair-Day itself, yes, yes,' Latigo finished impatiently. 'What I want to know is are they convinced? Can you take them on the day before Reaping, as you've promised, or will they be waiting?'

Depape and Reynolds looked at Jonas. Jonas reached behind him and put his hand on Coral's narrow but not uninteresting thigh. Here it was, he thought. He would be held to what he said next, and without grace. If he was right, the Big Coffin Hunters would be thanked and paid … perhaps bonused, as well. If he was wrong, they would likely be hung so high and hard that their heads would pop off when they hit the end of the rope.

'We'll take them easy as birds on the ground,' Jonas said. 'Treason the charge. Three young men, all high-bom, in the pay of John Parson. Shocking stuff. What could be more indicative of the evil days we live in?'

'One cry of treason and the mob appears?'

Jonas favored Latigo with a wintry smile. 'As a concept, treason might be a bit of a reach for the common folk, even when the mob's drunk and the core's been bought and paid for by the Horsemen's Association. Murder, though .. . especially that of a much loved Mayor—'

Depape's startled eyes flew to the Mayor's sister.

'What a pity it will be,' that lady said, and sighed. 'I may be moved to lead the rabble myself.'

Depape thought he finally understood Eldred's attraction: here was a woman every bit as cold-blooded as Jonas himself.

'One other matter,' Latigo said. 'A piece of the Good Man's property was sent with you for safekeeping. A certain glass ball?'

Jonas nodded. 'Yes, indeed. A pretty trifle.'

'I understand you left it with the local bruja.'

'Yes.'

'You should take it back. Soon.'

'Don't teach your grandpa to suck eggs,' Jonas said, a bit testily. 'I'm waiting until the brats are jugged.'

Reynolds murmured curiously, 'Have you seen it yourself, sai Latigo?'