sword-thing.”
The guardsman stared at him for a moment, then glanced back at the door of the gambling hall. He sighed. “Wait here,” he said. He turned and marched to the door, where he bellowed inside, “Hai, Kelder! Send someone up to the camp and tell the Lieutenant I’m investigating a break-in. You’re on your own until either I get back, or he posts a replacement — but don’t worry, I’ll take it as a personal insult if anyone tries anything while I’m gone. A very personal insult. And you all remember what happened to Terrek when he insulted me.”
There was a muffled chorus of acknowledgment; then the guard turned back to Lar and Emmis. “Let’s go,” he said.
Lar hesitated, looking up at the guard’s face, then over at Emmis, as if asking him a silent question.
Emmis had no idea what the question was, so he merely looked impatient, and gestured for them to go.
They went.
The three of them headed west on Games Street at a brisk pace; as they made the turn onto Arena Street, Emmis could not resist asking, “What did happen to Terrek?”
“They think he’ll be able to walk again by Festival,” the soldier said. “Sooner, if he can afford a magician to heal his legs. Which he can’t, after paying for the other damage.”
Emmis decided he didn’t need further details.
“As long as we’re telling each other things, suppose you two tell me what happened to make you think someone’s trying to kill you.”
Lar and Emmis exchanged glances. Then Lar said, “I think this one is for you to tell.”
Emmis sighed. “Lar, here, hired me as his local guide, right on the Shiphaven docks, as soon as his ship tied up,” he said. “I found a house he could rent, in Allston — that’s where we’re going. He’s here representing the Empire of Vond in... well, in things I don’t know about, as they aren’t my business, but apparently some of Vond’s neighbors aren’t happy about it. I met these four foreigners at an inn over in Shiphaven, and they paid me to tell them what he was up to, and I didn’t see that it could do any harm.” He hesitated.
“I didn’t mind,” Lar said. “He didn’t know anything secret.”
“So I talked to them, and then I saw one of them following us when we were in the Wizards’ Quarter last night,” Emmis continued. “And today I was back at the inn, the Crooked Candle on Commission Street — I’d been visiting my family in Shiphaven, and stopped in, and there was one of the foreigners, the Merchant she said her name was, from Ashthasa, and she told me they’d hired an assassin to kill Lar. I ran back to the house to warn him, even though I thought it was probably too late, but it wasn’t, because his business in the Wizards’ Quarter took longer than anyone had expected. And when I got to the house, these two men were waiting for me, one on the street out front, and one already inside the house, and when I opened the front door they both came for me. I got inside and slammed the door before the one on the street could get in, and then ducked when the one inside swung his walking stick at my head. And the end came off the stick, and it had a knife-blade inside, but where I’d ducked under it I was able to knock him down before he could stab me and run out the back door and slip away. Then I came to the Wizards’ Quarter to find Lar, and then we started along Games Street to Camptown, and found you.”
“You said the house is in Allston?”
“On Through Street, half a block northeast of Arena.”
“So how long ago did this attack take place? That’s a bit of a walk.”
Emmis suddenly realized he had no idea what time it was. He looked up; the sky was dark enough for the first stars to be appearing, but neither moon was visible, so he couldn’t use the lesser moon’s crescent to estimate the hour. “The sun hadn’t set yet when it happened,” he said.
“Then it’s been a good hour, at the very least,” the soldier said. “Chances are that whoever it was fled the place long ago.”
“Oh,” Emmis replied. He had to admit that the man was probably right. “But they might come back,” he said, “or they might be watching the house.”
“That’s true, and one of your neighbors might have seen something, so I’ll come take a look, but I’m not expecting much to come of it. If it’s true your foreign friends have hired assassins, I’d suggest you keep a very good watch. Hire yourself some bodyguards, perhaps. Maybe sleep somewhere else for a few nights.”
The three walked on in silence for a moment as Lar and Emmis considered this. As they neared the Arena Lar said to Emmis, “Maybe we should find you a sword.”
“What? I’m a dockworker, not a soldier!”
“You’ve got the build of a fighter,” the guardsman remarked.
“A brawler, maybe, not a swordsman! I’ve never held a sword in my life!”
“No one’s expecting you to take up fencing,” Lar said. “I just thought it might discourage intruders.”
“You do look like a fighter,” the guard agreed. “Usually, that’s all it takes. No one wants to take on a man with a sword — you can’t tell by looking whether he knows how to use it or not.”
“You aren’t carrying a sword,” Emmis pointed out.
“That’s because I don’t want to kill anyone,” the soldier replied calmly. “If the red kilt and breastplate aren’t enough to warn someone off, a sword probably wouldn’t do it, either.” He patted his truncheon. “A whack on the head with this will take a man down, but he’ll probably still be able to get up the next morning, and I won’t have to apologize to his grieving family. Not to mention I’m less likely to get blood everywhere. And it’s easier to use in a crowd.”
“You could carry both,” Emmis pointed out.
“Then I’d have to think about which to use, and there are occasions when taking time to think about anything is a bad idea.”
“Not to mention the cost,” Lar said.
“Not to mention that,” the guardsman agreed, with a nod and a smile. “Or worrying about bumping into things with it, or whether someone might get it away from me while I’m using the truncheon. If I were posted along the wall, at any of the city gates, I’d have a sword, but on Games Street it just isn’t a good idea.”
For a few paces the conversation dropped, but then Emmis said, “The man in the blue tunic has a sword. Or a stick with a blade, anyway.”
“Blue tunic? You got a good look at this fellow, then?”
“Reasonably good,” Emmis said. “It was a bit shadowy and it all happened quickly.”
“So what did you see?”
“Curly hair, pointed beard, blue tunic, black breeches, black boots, tall, thin, a bit hollow-cheeked. That’s about all.”
“What about the other one?” Lar asked.
Emmis shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Brown tunic, I think, but it might have been gray. Hair and beard could have used trimming. That’s all.”
“Any idea how one of them got inside the house?”
Lar cleared his throat. “I may not have locked the back door,” he admitted.
The soldier grimaced.
“He’s a foreigner,” Emmis pointed out.
“You aren’t,” the guardsman said. “You should have warned him!”
Emmis accepted the criticism silently.
“Were your attackers foreign?”
Emmis spread his hands. “I have no idea,” he said. “They didn’t say anything, so I didn’t hear any accents, and they didn’t dress any differently than we do. They could have been brought in, or they could have been hired here, I don’t know.”
The soldier cast a quick glance at Lar’s velvet coat and elaborate hat, but did not comment Instead he asked, “You said you talked to the foreigner who hired them?”
“Well, I talked to a foreigner. She said it was one of the others, a Lumethan named Neyam, who did the actual hiring.”
“Could you find either of them again? The woman you spoke to, or the one who did the hiring? Would you know them if you saw them?”
“Oh, I’d definitely recognize her. Neyam, maybe not — I only saw him once, and he had a hood up. But
