against the ships they’re supposed to protect. Whoever it is, if I take him, he’ll have his head cut off. VenDormen himself won’t be having anything to do with something like that, but there’s not much happens in the docks that he doesn’t know about and so he’s probably already raking a cut. If we’re lucky, VenDormen might let something slip to tell me who it is.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Now listen carefully to me, both of you. For this evening, Lilissa is my ward. Do either of you even know what that means? It means that for tonight she’s the daughter of some rich merchant from overseas and that I’m responsible for looking after her while she’s here.’ Berren glared at Lilissa again, trying to remember that he was still angry with her. His heart wasn’t in it though, especially when she glared back and stuck her tongue out at him. Her eyes sparkled. Master Sy banged a wooden spoon on the table. ‘Are you listening, either of you? You, Master Berren, remain my apprentice, the perpetual thorn in my side. Now you listen to me, both of you! I’ve known Regis for a long time. If I thought he was dealing with the Dag, I would be going to the Captain’s Rest alone. Still, you’d best have a care not to get on the wrong side of him. Be nice, be polite and be quiet. Keep your eyes open, too. Whoever is behind all this is going to be as nervous as a virgin soldier right now and they’ll have dangerous friends, too.’ He gave Berren a long steady look. ‘Much more dangerous than a mudlark with a club.’
Berren forgot about trying to be angry with Lilissa and stared at Master Sy instead, eyes wide. ‘Will you have to fight them?’ he asked, thinking of the ringmail shirt he wasn’t wearing.
The thief-taker frowned and groaned. ‘Boy, if there was any chance of that, do you think I’d be taking either of you with me? Do you think I’d bring Lilissa? Gods! No, boy, there’ll be no fighting tonight. You sit, you listen, you say nothing, either of you, unless one of us asks you a question. Regis and I have known each other for years. We’ll talk about things that sound very dull and then we’ll come home again and that’s all that’s going to happen. Nothing but polite business talk over a very fine meal. Dull as mud. Just keep your mouths shut and your eyes open.’ He glared at Berren. ‘This is delicate, boy. I want your word. You don’t speak unless you’re spoken to and you say nothing about our business. Do I have your promise?’
Berren nodded. He couldn’t help smiling. Trapped with Lilissa in a tavern, dressed up in all his finery. It was enough to make a lad from Shipwrights wonder whether he’d died and gone to the sun. He rubbed his head. Still sore and starting to ache, but no gaping holes. Good enough.
Master Sy stood up and wrapped a cloak around his shoulders. The cloak was something Berren had never seen before, silver and trimmed with white fur. The thief-taker offered Lilissa his hand to help her to her feet, and then took her by the arm to the door. Berren followed. He felt like he was floating. In the doorway, Master Sy paused. He glanced back.
‘Remember, lad, what I said about staring at a lady?’
Berren nodded vigorously.
‘You’ve been doing it ever since you came down the stairs. Time to stop now. And lad?’
‘Master?’
‘Close your mouth, too.’
He led them out of the yard. For once they didn’t go down the alley into Weaver’s Row but the other way, the way Master Sy had brought Berren on their first night, out into the Courts District and through to the Avenue of Emperors. A gentle breeze was blowing in across the river tonight, wafting over the top of The Peak, picking up all the scents of early evening fires. Roasting nuts, skewered meats cooked over hot coals, spiced rats baked in clay, a city delicacy ever since the siege. The sour smell of Clothmakers’ down the hill, whiffs of smoke from the braziers on the Godsway, fresh wood wafting out of Cabinetmakers’ Cloister across the street. Other parts of the city smelled more mundane, but around The Peak where everyone had money, even the air itself was an adventure. Sometimes a ship or a barge would come in loaded with fruit to bring some new scent to the night air; always, by the next morning, everything would smell of fish again.
As the Avenue of Emperors levelled out and began to open out into the expanse of the sea-docks, the thief- taker turned under an ornate metal arch and into a secluded square, overgrown with trees. There were men here, Berren realised, watching them. The sort of men he usually saw on the top of Reeper’s Hill, waiting outside the carriages. Cloaked and hooded, they had a poised, coiled menace to them. These ones had long curved cavalry swords left over from the war, held loose and naked in their hands as they lounged against the walls and in the shadows of the arch-ways. Snuffers. Berren stared with a mixture of envy and admiration. Master Sy wouldn’t approve, but they were the way he wanted to be. They looked dangerous.
Master Sy wrinkled his nose. He walked straight through the middle of the square to the other side. Suddenly Berren found himself standing on the threshold of the most magnificent building on the dockside, possibly the whole world, certainly the whole world as far as Berren had seen it. This, he knew, without even having to ask, was the fabled Captains’ Rest, the finest tavern in the city, grander even than Teacher Garrent’s moon temple. It called itself something different, a loggia, or some other fancy foreign word, but a tavern was what it was and everyone had heard of it.
Master Sy looked him up and down, straightening a fold in his clothes here, brushing away a fleck of dirt there. He spoke sternly: ‘Look around you, both of you. Everyone who comes in here has money, a lot more money than us. Watch the way they act, the way they dress. Listen to the way they talk. See if any of them strike you as unusual.’ He glowered at Berren. ‘And whatever you do, don’t steal anything.’ Then he smiled at Lilissa, took her arm again and led them to the door.
27
THE HARBOUR-MASTER
The entrance to the Captains’ Rest was a gaping archway that looked more like the portal to a castle or a temple. Two more snuffers stood on guard, these ones in fancy uniforms that matched the arms carved into the arch’s crest; they frowned at Berren as he followed his master. Beyond the arch lay another square yard, open to the sky and larger than the first. A wild variety of plants filled the place – scented and flowering bushes scattered around a handful of small trees. Several different ivies competed for domination of the walls. Paths wound around the yard, punctuated by little marble benches, barely large enough for two people to sit on at once. Berren saw at least a dozen colourful birds, perched in the trees and around the walls. A low hum of conversation filled the air. The effect made Berren think he’d walked into the exotic palace garden of some faraway kingdom.
‘Copied from the garden at the Watchman’s Arms,’ whispered Master Sy. ‘This is where sea captains and merchants come to make their business.’ Lilissa’s eyes darted from one thing to the next, wide with wonder.
‘It’s like a palace!’ said Berren.
Master Sy nodded. He pointed to their left. ‘Those are the private rooms and lodgings. Only guests are allowed inside there.’ He gestured ahead. ‘That leads to the grand hall. They won’t let us in there either. It’s where the Guild of Sea Captains and Traders meets. But over here…’ He turned right down a path, so crowded by greenery that it brushed Berren’s legs as he walked. ‘Anyone can come here. This is where the food halls are, and the baths, and… various other diversions.’
From the way he said it, Berren knew that diversions meant women. Over the time he’d been Master Sy’s apprentice, he’d noticed that the thief-taker became strangely clumsy and fumbling on the few times he spoke on the subject, particular when Lilissa was around. Berren, on the other hand, had grown up with Master Hatchet, near the bottom of Reeper Hill. He’d lived one door away from Club-Headed Jin’s whorehouse and he’d already seen about as much as there was to see. He’d begun to suspect that on this one subject, he might actually know more than his master.
He glanced at Lilissa again. Maybe he did know more than Master Sy, but he still didn’t know nearly as much as he would have liked.
The thief-taker led them out of the gardens onto a sheltered veranda and then into a wide hall. The delicious scents of food laced the air. Paintings and hangings lined the walls. Berren remembered that he was still ravenous.
‘Master? Did it used to be a palace?’ he asked.
‘No. But the Guild of Sea Captains and Traders has a lot of money, and the guild-master likes to think himself something of a king. Now remember what I said, boy, and be quiet. And guard your eyes, both of you.’
Berren still stared at everything he saw. Uniformed servants intercepted Master Sy, speaking in hushed
