'Why not?' Kam replied gruffly, ignoring the slight shift of feet from the door. He wrinkled his scarred nose; the lady's scent mingled incongruously with stale sweat and old pipe smoke. 'Don't get me wrong; I don't want trouble, but I don't like it when I can't see the face of the person I'm talking to, and that goes double when I don't know why I'm sneaking around a strange city at night.'
'Perfectly understandable,' she replied smoothly, but she made no move to reveal her identity. 'You're here because you were given money to be here, and because you were promised a job.'
'That's right enough, and so what I want to know is what sort of job this is,' Kam said equably. 'We're not mercenaries, nor thieves or assassins, so why come to us?'
'Because I do have a job for you, and it's one only a fool would take.'
'Calling us fools?' Boren growled, until Kam put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder.
'So what sort of fool you looking for?' Kam asked.
'What use does anyone have for a fool?'
Kam resisted the urge to scowl himself. What he hated most about nobles was the way they kept their voices level, emotionless; those practised tones they used to hide whatever they were thinking. It made them sound infuriatingly arrogant, whether they intended that or not. 'So what're you looking for?' he repeated.
'Men with reason enough to act the fool,' she said.
'Enough of this, can you not just say it plain?'
The woman turned slightly towards the man at the door. Something passed between them, Kam had no idea what, but she slipped off her hood to reveal the face of a middle-aged woman with deep lines around her eyes. Her hair was cut short and her only concession to jewellery was a milky pearl pendant on a thick silver chain. Around her throat was tied a red ribbon of mourning.
'I hope you'll forgive me if I spend a little time gauging the sort of men I'm talking to before revealing all my secrets,' she said quietly.
Kam blinked in surprise. Her voice was strained; in her reproach he detected the waver of someone so close to the end of their tether that not even years of upbringing could mask all emotion.
'That's fair,' he replied quickly, 'but we ain't got the advantage here. I'm guessing you know our names and where we come from and – now I don't mean to offend, just bein' honest – compared to us you're a powerful woman, so there's an unspoken threat there in that alone.'
'You think I've brought you here to threaten you?'
'No, but it's there all the same.' Kam raised a placating hand. 'I'm just stating how I see the Land; I'm poor and you're not. If you have a job for me, there's risk involved and you're willing to pay for that, but you're not looking to be refused.'
'I hope my information about you would be more accurate than that,' she said, keeping her proud nose raised for a few more moments before the effort defeated her and she seemed to sag in her seat. 'I acknowledge what you say as the truth, though I didn't want to go so far as describe it that way. You're right, I cannot afford for you to refuse me, and I have associates willing to retaliate if anything should happen to me.' Her tired eyes flicked up again. 'But I hope it will not come to that, so let me lay my offer before you: twenty gold crowns for each of you and your men, in addition to an assurance that every village they are drawn from will receive increased protection for the foreseeable future.'
Kam didn't trust himself to reply immediately. The fee was immense – no one in his village could hope to earn twenty gold crowns in a year – but it was her last statement that clinched it. Whatever his objections, they would all take the job. Protection for the village was something they couldn't easily buy with gold, especially since there would be questions about how they obtained so much money.
'Crowns are no use to us; commoners don't get paid in gold, only thieves,' Boren pointed out, voicing one of Kam's concerns.
She smiled wryly; that was the least of the problems. 'So let us say four hundred silver crescents then.'
Kam nodded. 'That'll do. But for that sort of money there's a good chance we all die, and money don't help my family if it's taken off my corpse.'
'I will send a man to replace one in your group, a vassal of mine. You can send your man back with whatever money you wish, and my associate here will deliver whatever's left. But send any young men amongst you home; this is not a job for the young.'
Again Kam heard the emotion in her voice, and he suddenly realised her words struck to the heart of the matter. Oh Qods, could this be who 1 think it is?
'Still don't want to be a corpse, rich one or not,' Kam said, Boren nodding sternly alongside him.
'I understand that,' the lady said, 'and yet I expect many, if not all of you, to die before the job is over.'
'What sort of offer is that?' spluttered Boren, looking about to rise and walk out until Kam eased his bristle- haired friend back onto his box.
'I think I understand,' Kam said slowly, 'but how can we trust you in this? There's no reason for you to let any of us live, or for you to contact our villages ever again once we're dead. If your friend delivers the money there's a trail back to you, and that's something you can't afford.'
'How can you trust me? You can't, I suppose, but I think you know how you can believe I'll keep to my word on this.' She sighed. 'You've guessed who I am, and that trail you spoke of hardly matters now.'
Ignoring Boren's puzzled expression, Kam thought for a while, trying to piece everything together in his mind. He controlled the sudden surge of revulsion he felt in his heart.
'With due apologies, folk aren't saying good things about you;' he pointed out. 'Your word might yet be worth nothing.'
Not saying good things? the voice of his younger self screamed in his mind, you fucking bitch-whore traitor, you want to drag me down with you, have my name cursed alongside yours, maybe even send me to the Dark Place to see what welcome awaits you?
He said nothing more, but both his fists were clenched tight, as though desperately fighting the urge to pull his knife.
Poor 1 might be, traitor I'm damn well not… And yet…
And yet I've got a family and barely enough to feed them through the winter, and there are rumours of more Elven attacks when the summer comes. We barely survived last time; those army outriders almost caught us last winter. If it hadn't been for Boren's boy chasing after that fool dog we'd not have had any warning-
'Well, I don't know who you are,' Boren said, breaking into Kam's bitter memories of the previous winter. 'How about you let me know so I can be in on this deal too?'
She raised her chin and said, 'I am the Dowager Duchess of Lomin.'
Boren managed to cut off his hiss of surprise. Now he had to shut up. He and Kam had been friends their whole lives and Boren knew that he could trust Kam's sense better than his own temper. He folded his arms over his chest and lowered his head, a sign Kam knew well meant Boren was aware he'd regret the next words that came out his mouth.
'I'm guessing there's only one thing that you'd want from us, but I don't see how we'd break your son out of prison. There's twenty of us, and I doubt the Lord Isak is giving your son many noble privileges. If he's in the city gaol, there's more than three times our number of regular guards, and if he's in the palace cells then there's an entire legion of Ghosts in the way.' Kam leaned forward, his box creaking. 'I'm sorry, my Lady, but I don't see what you're expecting of us.'
'You are correct that my son is being kept in squalor at the palace,' she said, 'but his trial will either be a civil affair, in which case it will take place at the Temple of Law on Irienn Square, or if the Synod's efforts to take over the trial prove successful, in a place yet to be designated – however, I do not believe that will happen. The man I will send to you tomorrow will bring the architectural plans for the Temple of Law, which is where I am sure my son will be transferred for the trial.'
'So Duke Certinse is out the palace, but that doesn't help us. You could send us a full company of hurscals and we'd still be outnumbered by the Ghosts guarding him. So I ask again: what is it you want?'
Kam saw her lip waver briefly, and she fought to compose herself.
He's her only child, and that's the reason her promise means a damn; whatever they say about her can still be true; it doesn't change the fact that she loves her only son more'n anything else in the Land.
'What I want from you,' she said in a carefully measured tone, 'is whatever you can do to help. If there is a chance to break my son out, I will have men with horses waiting, and I will devote the remains of my fortune to
