Warlock's shadow

Berren nodded. He was staring at the token. He had no idea what it meant but he held it as though it was the most precious thing he’d ever had. He couldn’t pocket it for fear of somehow losing it. Maybe a chain, around his neck …

‘You could sell it.’

He closed his fingers around the token, clutching it tight. Yes, a chain around his neck, that was the only way to be safe.

The thief-taker sighed. He clapped Berren on the shoulder. ‘Remember, lad, when this all turns sour, that it all came about because you did the right thing and for the right reasons. Now I’m hungry and my friendships with the priests in this temple have just been royally slaughtered. Ah well, only took ten years to build. Come on: I need a drink, I’ve got a pocket full of the Prince’s silver, Justicar Kol owes me a purse and the most expensive tea-house in the city is right across the square beside the guild-house. So that’s where I’m going. You can come with me if you like, or you can stay here for midday prayers if you like the look of your new teacher so much.’

Berren reddened. ‘Her?’

‘Don’t think I didn’t see you looking, and don’t think that she didn’t either. You’re in for some hard hard work, lad.’ He chuckled. ‘So are you coming or are you staying?’

For a moment Berren hesitated. Not that he wanted to be in the temple for any longer that he had to; but after prayers the monks were going to do their demonstration and that was something he didn’t want to miss. He’d get to see his new teacher fight, maybe work out a trick or two so he could show them he wasn’t some stupid novice and they’d give him a proper teacher instead of some girl.

Master Sy must have read his mind. ‘Oh don’t you worry, we’ll be back quick enough. I want to see your new teacher show off her skills too. Although I simply need to know that she’s good enough for my student … You know, I don’t think I’d mind it at all if she ripped your arms off.’ He smiled and for once he seemed to mean it. ‘Come on, lad. Asking His Highness for sword lessons was foolishness, but it was a brave thing you did. I’ll probably never have the money to do this again.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Unless your teachers have actually managed to stir a little piety in you?’

Berren vigorously shook his head. ‘No chance of that!’ Still clutching the prince’s token, he ran to the temple gates.

7

A CUP OF TEA AND A BAD TASTE

‘Myla! Soraya! Lucius!’ Halfway across the square, a boy of about seven bolted across the stones. Two girls, somewhat younger, ran after him waving wooden swords. ‘Come here!’ The girls ran straight in front of Berren, forcing him to lurch sideways, but that just made him collide with the woman running after them instead. They both staggered away, the woman calling out a stream of apologies, Berren too busy checking his purse to hear what she’d said. Old habits died hard. He watched as the woman caught up with first the girls and then the boy, picking them up in her arms one after the other and scolding them soundly while they giggled and laughed. They were rich, you could see that from their clothes. Almost anyone who came up to The Peak was either rich or a novice at the temple.

‘Come on, lad!’ Master Sy was already a dozen yards ahead. ‘No time to dawdle.’

Berren sighed. Here he was, apprenticed to Master Syannis, the best thief-taker in Deephaven. He’d earned his first golden emperor at the age of thirteen. Not been given it, but earned it. He was learning letters, even if he hated them, in the great temple of the Sun. He’d earned the gratitude of a prince and he was about to be taught swords by the greatest fighters in the empire. And yet …

And yet?

And yet sometimes he would have given it all to be a fishmonger’s son, quiet and dim and unassuming, amounting to nothing very much and yet oafishly content.

‘Come on, come on! They’ll ring the bell for midday prayers soon and then we might as well forget about being served in here.’ Master Sy pushed open an impressive door of dark carved wood. Berren followed him into a dim room. The air was rich, thick with a hundred different scents and spices — sweet jasmine, bitter liquorice, pungent nutmeg and cloves and cinnamon, all layered over flowers and pipeweed and tea. Even Master Sy paused as though taken aback.

‘Right.’ The thief-taker pushed on deeper into the tea-house. The room was nearly empty except for a pair of girls about Berren’s age who were wearing … Berren squinted. They were dressed like pageboys except they very obviously weren’t. They wore their shirts loose and their breeches tight. As Master Sy approached, they smiled and bowed. Berren stared, hoping they’d bow to him too, but they didn’t. He caught Master Sy looking at him, one eyebrow raised.

‘The proprietors of the Golden Cup know very well who their patrons are.’ The thief-taker wrinkled his nose. ‘Fat old men who like to leer.’ The two serving girls exchanged a glance and giggled. Master Sy bowed back to them and then asked for a string of things that Berren had never heard of. It was as though he’d suddenly started speaking another language, something completely alien like the tongue of the black-skinned sea-traders. The girls seemed to understand, though; they nodded and hurried away. Berren wistfully watched them go, thinking of them beside the sword-monk who was supposed to be his teacher. See, now that was how a girl was supposed to look …

‘Mouth closed, boy.’ Master Sy was already sitting down. Berren quickly followed beside him.

‘They were …’ He looked for the right word and couldn’t find it.

‘Lovely?’ offered Master Sy. Berren nodded. That would have to do. They were like all the best of the women he’d seen with the prince, the curved beauties from the higher reaches of Reeper Hill, mixed with the honest earthiness of Lilissa. If there was a word for that, he didn’t know it.

‘Gorgeous,’ he sighed.

‘The Grim has the pick of all the girls in the city, or at least the poor ones, which amounts to much the same. Rich men come here, and I promise you: every girl The Grim puts to work becomes a mistress to one of them. Sometimes a man in the throes of passion lets slip a little secret or two. Sometimes those secrets somehow make their way back The Grim. Somehow, to some, this comes as a surprise.’ He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. ‘Rich fools. Deephaven’s contribution to the empire.’

‘The Grim?’ Berren snorted. Last he’d heard, The Grim had been some pirate who’d made his fortune during the civil war before Berren had been born. He’d been a pirate then and the rumours around The Peak were that he was still a pirate now, just a different sort of pirate. Hardly a dirty old man running a tea-house, surely?

‘Yes. I hear he chooses them himself.’ Master Sy leaned back and spread out his arms. ‘The Golden Cup. They say they brew the best tea in the city and bake the best pastries. Master Mardan and Master Fennis both swear these teahouses will be all the rage soon. Deephaven will be full of them and then Varr and the City of Spires and everywhere else in the empire. I think Master Fennis is even considering throwing in his sword and giving up thief-taking altogether to go and start one in Varr.’ He laughed. ‘Can’t see it myself. You imperials are all too dark and dour and gloomy for something like this. I gather the prince came here soon after he arrived and didn’t think much of it at all. I told Fennis he should try his luck further south. Go to Torpreah or Helhex where it’s warmer. Varr?’ He shook his head, still laughing. ‘The place is buried in snow for half the year. What would they do with a house like this?’ Then he frowned. ‘Keep your eyes open for Kol. He’s supposed to be joining us.’

He was interrupted as one of the serving girls came back with a silver tray. She leaned over the table, laying out an array of small silver cups and bowls. Berren tried not to stare. The girl wore her shirt loose. You could see all the way down to …

For an instant she caught his eye. Hastily, Berren looked away, blushing furiously. The girl smiled very slightly then finished by setting down a plate with a dozen tiny little things that Berren might have called cakes if they’d been about ten times bigger.

‘Is there anything else I can give you gentlemen?’ she asked, glancing again at Berren. Yes, Berren wanted to say, but all the air had been sucked out of him. Master Sy smiled politely.