‘You ever going to organize this mess?’
The fat merchant said, ‘It is organized. I know where everything housed here and in three separate warehouses is, Jim.’ He tapped the side of his head. ‘The reason I’m so valuable to you is I remember everything.’
Jim conceded to himself that everything Jacobo had reported over the years had been accurate and useful. ‘Well, then, to it.’
‘Late last night a royal cutter hove to and a longboat rowed in. As soon as the boat touched the docks a courier dashed to a waiting horse and off he went to the city commander. The Duke of Rodez is in Rillanon, with most of the Congress of Lords, to discuss the conduct of the war, I’d imagine, so the orders to the garrison should have come from him. But instead it appears they came from one Sir William-’
‘Alcorn,’ interrupted Jim, a look of disgust passing over his face. ‘Go on.’
‘No official announcement has been made, but the rumour is Kesh and the Kingdom have agreed to some sort of truce.’
Jim sat back. He was silent while he weighed up what he had just been told. This was as unexpected as the outbreak of the war had been. Kesh had gained little of importance anywhere except possibly in the west; reports from the Far Coast and Yabon had not yet reached the capital. Certainly in the east they had achieved nothing except spending a great deal of gold and alienating both their neighbouring states.
‘Go on.’
Jacobo seemed at a loss as to what to say next, then his eyes widened and he said, ‘A trader reports that Kesh holds to their line with ships on sentry, but are allowing Ceresian pirates to enter Kingdom waters to pillage. Prandur’s Gate is said to have been sacked, and pirates are reportedly raiding the smaller towns and villages along the coast between here and Ran.’
Jim considered this rumour. The Kingdom was on a war footing and every inch of coastline would be garrisoned with both regular soldiers and levies against any Keshian landing, or ventures by one of the more opportunistic Eastern Kingdoms. So the pirates were either incredibly bold, incredibly stupid, or had some reason not to expect Kingdom intervention. Under normal conditions, a town of any size should hold a garrison large enough to repulse pirates with punishing results. A village, perhaps, could be sacked, but the booty would not amount to enough to pay for the food needed to feed a good-sized pirate crew. Moreover, the Ceresians were rarely organized enough to mount a major raid, usually being content to plunder shipping and fight amongst themselves.
His mind raced as he let his imagination run rampant for a full minute, before reining it back in. There was something coalescing in his thinking, but it was not near enough to fruition for him to fully grasp it. There was something about Sir William Alcorn, a pointless war with Kesh, and pirates making free in the waters of the Sea of Kingdoms; under normal circumstances, even should the Kingdom be idly, Kesh would sink every Ceresian dromon and begala they sighted, no questions asked, and any surviving pirate would be hanged at sea or sold into slavery depending on the Keshian captain’s ability to keep prisoners or not. Letting them pass signalled an understanding of some sort.
Jim said, ‘Tell me more of these pirates?’
‘I know only what I already told you: they come ashore, burn towns, take booty and captives, and the local garrisons hunker down within the walls of their fortresses.’ Then a quizzical look passed over Jacobo’s face. ‘There is this one other thing, Jim: the pirates to seem to be seeking something or someone.’
‘What?’
‘No one knows, but a trader by name of Gersh, a man of uncommon honesty, told me he had left Ran when the pirates were making a landing near a town called Farborough. Some pirates caught sight of his wagon as he was turning around and began to give chase. But while Gersh looked on in wonder, their leader ordered them back and up into the hills north of the town. Gersh swears they were spreading out as if on a manhunt. Gersh has given votive offerings to Ruthia twice since coming back to Rodez.’ Thanks to the Goddess of Luck was more proof the story was true than not.
‘How long ago did this happen?’
‘Four days, perhaps five, I’m not certain. Gersh came to me seeking a ship for Ran I might have cargo upon, with which he might bundle his trade goods, for a small fee, of course. I was happy to accommodate him, and as there appears to be a truce verging, it may be that ship will actually get to Ran. First trade goods in after peace is declared will fetch a good price.’
Jim had a hunch, but he would not share it with Jacobo. ‘Anything else?’
‘Nothing at the moment, unless you wish to hear about trade speculation and hedges against the coming drop in prices of goods if the war ends soon. One man’s opportunity is another man’s disaster.’
‘No,’ said Jim standing. He pointed to Jacobo’s ear. ‘Sorry about that, but trust has been hard to come by lately. I’ll see you’re taken care of for your troubles. Just remember I was never here and we never spoke.’
With a slight smile Jacobo said, ‘Is someone there? I can’t see anyone or hear anything.’
A second later Jim was through the curtains at the front of the store and gone. Jacobo waited for a moment, then stood and slowly made his way to the front of his establishment where he was delighted to find the curtains drawn back and the closed for business sign taken down.
Two blocks away, a bored-looking seaman leaned against a piling on the pier, absently whittling at a stick of wood as he glanced around from time to time. Jim had found this location years before and it enabled him to see anyone coming or going from Jacobo’s shop, as the only exit from the alley onto which Jacobo’s back door opened was just three buildings away from the street upon which his shop sat.
After half an hour, Jim was satisfied that Jacobo had been telling him the truth, or at least the truth as he knew it, and was not seeking to announce to the that Jim Dasher was in the city. And so Jacobo survived another day to increase his prosperity.
Jim looked around one last time, ensuring he was not being observed, and took a deep breath. He had one safe house close by, and he would thoroughly examine every approach to make sure it was clear, then he would go to ground. He would need to spend at least a week to discover the truth behind Jacobo’s rumour of peace. In general, he welcomed such news, but behind it he sensed a great mystery. Who was the shadowy player who had meddled so effectively in the affairs of three great nations, and to what end?
Much work lay ahead and there were few if any in the region Jim could safely trust. Still, he was not without his own resources and had others like Jacobo who were not part of the loose criminal brotherhood to whom his role as Upright Man of the Mockers of Krondor gained him access, nor part of his network of royal agents.
Knowing that caution overrode urgency, Jim vanished into the crowd in the bustling city of Rodez.
Lady Franciezka sat quietly in her study, before the window, knowing she was under observation. She had identified Worthington’s agents weeks before and knew exactly where they were. She had turned it into a bit of a game, having come up with names for each, though she did not yet know their true identities. Right now, she was being observed by ‘Pierre’, who was situated in a window in a rented room across the square opposite a tiny garden behind her townhouse. ‘Andre’ was drinking numerous cups of tea at a small table in the cafe at the corner, which allowed him an unobstructed view of her townhouse’s entrance. At sundown they would be replaced by ‘Anton’ in the room, and ‘Serge’ at the cafe, who would retire to the corner and a miserable doorway in which to huddle after the cafe closed.
She had turned this into a game, slipping in an out of her home unobserved, or making a grand show of leaving to go shopping or the rare trip to the palace to look the part of an unneeded lady-in-waiting to the Queen. The rest of the time she conducted her own business. She had grown so bored with the game she had taken to leaving her window shutters open at night when she bathed so that her silhouette could be seen on the gauze privacy curtain, hoping it teased or annoyed Anton. For a moment her thoughts turned to James Jamison, and she wondered if Jim would be annoyed or amused to discover her teasing. She would be certain to ask him when next they met, if they again met.
She tried to be the professional about this, but found her mind often turning to Jim and she realized that a man she already had tried to have killed twice was the only man she’d ever encountered who truly understood her. She felt herself torn between loving him for that and wanting him dead even more. She confessed to herself, not for the first time, that affairs of the heart were not good for her: she was bad at them. It was when she didn’t care that she was her most effective, when she could use her acting skills and her body to convince a man to do whatever she wanted. When she started to care, then she got into difficulties.
