Legends of Dimmingwood 02:Betrayal of Thieves (8 page)

I hadn’t noticed any other presence in the room, but at his call I became newly aware of a shadowy figure moving in a darkened corner. An emaciated woman, well past her better years, clambered sluggishly up from a filthy tangle of sleeping rugs on the floor to follow Davin’s bidding. Her long, greasy hair spilled untidily over bony shoulders, bared by a loose, low-cut blouse. She moved with an unsteadiness that suggested she’d been sampling from the bottle she brought to us. She also fetched us three chipped, dirty mugs before fading again into the shadows.

“All right,” Davin said when she was gone. “I’m ready to discuss this proposition of yours, Fleet.”

He poured both our mugs full, setting his aside. I noted how Fleet held his drink untouched until he saw the fat man himself take a swig from the bottle.

“Don’t be so hasty, my friend,” Fleet said, leaning forward. “Before we discuss any new endeavor, I think it would be wise to settle any business remaining unfinished between us.”

Davin looked innocent. “I don’t know what you mean. I can think of no unresolved matter.”

Fleet smiled thinly. “Then allow me to refresh your memory,” he said. “There was a job six months ago on Merchant’s Row. As I remember it, I was cheated out of my cut and I mean to settle that oversight now.”

“Do you?” Davin said, his expression confident. “Then let me give you a piece of advice, lad. You don’t want to do anything foolish. I shouldn’t have to remind you of some of the… not so pleasant people who count me friend.” He leaned forward and, though his voice never lost its friendly tone, his eyes were distinctly cold. “Don’t try to blackmail, badger, or otherwise coerce me into or out of anything, lad. Certain of my acquaintances might take exception.”

Fleet’s expression didn’t alter, but I caught the sense of dread washing over him. Whoever these friends of Davin’s were, they were evidently not anyone Fleet wanted to come up against. I sensed him struggling with something, possibly hardening his resolve.

He said, “I think we’re both equally aware of the sorts of friendships you curry, Davin. I don’t doubt you could order me tortured or dismembered in any way you liked and it would be done by nightfall. But let’s ask ourselves what would be the benefit of doing away with an old friend when he has come all this way to bring you business he could easily have taken elsewhere?”

The heavy man laughed suddenly, a deep throat-clearing noise that fell harshly on my ears. “I see, I see. You come to bargain,” he said. “Do you really think you’re sharp enough to concoct any scheme that would tempt me into parting with my money? After all these years you should know better.”

I could see the mockery was getting to my companion. Fleet’s composure cracked enough for his hand to move, as if of its own accord, to his coat sleeve, where a faint bulge betrayed the presence of a knife. The move wasn’t lost on Davin, but the big man only laughed again.

“You cannot think to threaten me?” he asked. “You must realize I don’t fear you one wit, but you persist in showing your teeth, like a fox cornered in a hunt.”

Fleet flinched at the words, as if aware of a hidden meaning. “And am I being hunted?” he asked quietly.

It seemed a strange question to me, but Davin’s face immediately sobered.

“Not yet, boy. You’re lucky that I like you, despite many of your stupider actions, past and present. I haven’t set your name on any death list, and I won’t, so long as you don’t force the issue. But I’m warning you to forget this debt nonsense and be satisfied to keep your neck. What would you have done with your share anyway? You’d have drunk and gambled it all away inside a week’s time.”

“What I do with my money is my own business,” Fleet said. “I thought the glitters I’ve brought today would interest you, but now I see further dealings between us would be a mistake. I cannot trust you with such a valuable opportunity.”

Davin frowned. “Glittery goods, you say?”

“The best. I’ve never wasted my time or yours with cheap baubles.”

“Doubtless you’re exaggerating what you have, but just the same, you’ve stirred my interest. Would it be out of the way for me to ask to see these shinies?”

“Naturally, I wouldn’t expect you to buy what you haven’t seen,” Fleet said, as he fumbled inside his coat and withdrew a knotted kerchief. When he untied the small bundle to display a glittering brooch and a pair of ear ornaments studded with blood-red gems, I felt my eyes bulge and saw Davin’s do the same.

“No wonder the chase last night,” I muttered. Fleet shot me an annoyed look and I realized he was telling me to keep my mouth shut. Clearly he didn’t want to talk about the source of these jewels in front of Davin.

The big man reached for the gems, a greedy gleam in his eye, as he asked, “How’d you have the good fortune to get your grubby hands on these?”

Fleet snatched the jewels beyond his reach.

“Sorry, trade secrets,” he said. “What you should be asking yourself is how you might persuade me to part with them. To start with, I’ll be wanting to settle that old debt we just discussed.”

Davin waved a careless hand, his smile calculating. “That small coin? Of course, it’s yours. That’s if these jewels prove to be the real thing. But you cannot expect me to put a value on the stones before I’ve been allowed to examine them. How do I know they’re not cheap imitations? Any fool can polish a bit of red-rind and pass it off as heartsfire.”

Fleet’s expression was cool. “The lady who possessed these was not the sort to have her jewel box graced by pieces of red-rind. All the same…”

He considered the jewels briefly before tossing the brooch to the big man, who caught the ornament deftly between thick fingers and held it up to his eye. When Fleet had brought a lantern close, the two leaned over the brooch. Davin’s expression had grown serious and it was clear he was in his element. He pried the jewel loose from its backing and lightly scratched the back of the stone with a thin blade removed from his belt-pouch. Grunting to himself, he then held it up to the light, flipping it over.

“It’s real enough,” he finally concluded.

“Yes, of course it is. Didn’t I say as much?” Fleet demanded impatiently. “And something else I know is what stones like these are worth, so don’t think you’re getting the better of me on this deal. If you want them, I expect you to meet my price, or I can easily take them elsewhere.”

Davin snorted. “Methinks you’ve an overblown opinion of yourself and your find, street thief. We both know you haven’t the contacts to unload these gems in a market where they won’t be recognized, and I don’t think you want to be caught with them in your hand either. You’re as eager to be rid of them as I am to purchase them, so I’ll give you exactly what I gave you last time and you’ll have the sense to take it.”

The big man nodded at me. “Tell our friend here to think things over before he makes any hasty decisions.”

I had no opportunity to respond, as Fleet climbed to his feet to glare down on the other man. “You’re a filthy snake, Davin,” he accused. “A sloppy eel with the brains of a—”

“Now, now,” the heavy man interrupted. “I take it by the abuse you’re leveling that you’ve come to see the light of reason. You can leave off the litany and just thank me for taking the rocks off your hands.”

“I want the money inside the week,” Fleet said sullenly.

“Of course you do,” Davin agreed, gathering the other jewels from the kerchief. “Come now. Drink another round with me before you go and let’s put this nasty bargaining business behind us.”

Fleet said, “You know, considering how you’re robbing me on this deal, the least you could do is seal our bargain with a gesture of good will. You might, say, throw in a pair of daggers for my friend here. She’s lost her old weapons, and we all know how unpleasant it feels to go without.”

Davin shrugged, saying, “I’m sure I can find something lying around that will suffice.”

Fleet tipped me a wink when the heavy man wasn’t looking and I realized he wasn’t displeased with the outcome of our visit but had probably planned all along for it to end as it did.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The old docks were nothing more than their name suggested, rickety structures outside the city walls, hiding beneath the shadow of the spanning bridges leading into Selbius. It was obvious at a glance the stone and timber structures hadn’t stood up well to the effects of time. What decades of lapping water had been unable to erode, sun, weather, and woodborers were not far from finishing. There were great gaping holes in the wooden planks and even the sturdier parts of the dock creaked so alarmingly beneath our feet, I half expected the timbers to give way at any moment and Fleet and I to be plunged into the green waters below. It was an unpleasant thought because I’d never had a chance to practice swimming in anything deeper than Dancing Creek.

Fortunately, the grey chunks of granite undergirding the walk continued to do their task for a little longer, holding fast despite alarming creaks and groans. A cool breeze blew in off the water, thick with the mingled scents of fish and lakeweed, a combination that soured my stomach this early in the morning. I resisted the urge to cover my nose and focused on my surroundings. It was strangely peaceful here, despite the distant rumble of wagons rolling over the bridges above. The lake lapped gently against the dock’s pilings. Gulls clamored in the distance.

I looked across the green expanse and realized for the first time how noisy and cloying the city streets were. The thought of abandoning these open spaces again to enter the stifling city walls at day’s end seemed unendurable, but I told myself I didn’t need to worry about that yet. I could handle only one problem at a time, and right now my concern lay with finding the priest. But looking around me, I couldn’t help thinking this appeared an unlikely place to accomplish that goal.

To my left sprawled an array of decaying and abandoned warehouses that looked like they hadn’t seen use in decades. By contrast, a collection of small wooden huts erected at the other end of the wharf teemed with activity. Bits of brightly colored laundry fluttered in the open windows of the little dwellings and tendrils of smoke rose from holes in the thatched roofs. Dozens of men and women, river people I decided by their unique appearance, were mending nets, cleaning fish, and going about their daily routines. I saw a group of men near the water’s edge laboring over stacks of timber and coils of rope and decided they were constructing the sturdy rafts they were known for. River children played up and down the long piers, dodging beneath the feet of their elders, chasing one another dangerously across unsteady walkways.

Our arrival attracted a good deal of attention. No one shouted or made any move against us, but it was obvious by the flat, hostile gazes directed our way that our presence was an unwelcome intrusion. I stared back at the strangers just as frankly. Their unfamiliar appearance and clothing was unsettling and vaguely threatening in its strangeness.

The men, with the exception of the little ones, wore their heads shaved bald and kept their faces and chests equally bare. The only clothes they bothered with were loose fitting trousers made of the same fabric as the brightly colored sails of their rafts. But there was no impression of nakedness because their arms, torsos, and occasionally even their faces were so heavily patterned with various colors of ink that in many cases I could hardly see the man beneath the tattoos. Any natural skin visible gleamed a dark bronze from long years spent toiling under the sun.

While I was engrossed in studying these people, Fleet had taken the initiative and was approaching one. This river man was a large fellow at the water’s edge who was wrestling with a coil of rope to draw in a line of floating logs from the distant shore. With his frustrated scowl and the tenseness of his muscled back, he didn’t have the look of a man I would have chosen to interrupt in the middle of his work. But Fleet had already greeted him. I hung back to see how things would play out, reasoning if the street thief got himself thrown into the lake, someone ought to be standing by to fish him out.

I could see by his exaggerated hand gestures, Fleet was making our situation known to the stranger, but the river man’s attention never left his work. Fleet talked uselessly to his back for a few minutes, but when neither this man nor the other laborers alongside him showed any indication they were listening to the babbling city man, Fleet eventually gave up his efforts and returned to me.

“This is a waste of time,” he complained. “I’ll wager they don’t even understand a civilized tongue. We’d get farther asking a dog for directions.”

But as we walked away I noted how the big river man glanced back at us with a flicker of something dark in his eyes, and I had the decided feeling he understood much more than he let on. We were more successful in our next attempt. This time, Fleet made his inquiries of a tiny, silver-haired old woman whose quick, beady eyes darted up and down the length of us both, reminding me of a curious little bird. I tried not to look at the sharp bone ornament thrust through her chin.

The old one looked unimpressed with the coppers Fleet flashed at her, but her interest was caught by the bright glass bauble dangling from his ear. In the end, he reluctantly parted with it in exchange for information and, cackling gleefully at her trade, the old woman informed us with gestures and a smattering of the Known tongue what she knew of the man we sought. She told us to ask after him at the home of the woman named Seephinia, out on the water. We took this to mean Seephinia lived among the flotilla of river rafts anchored a short distance from the docks.

Fleet caught a passing river boy and offered him a copper to lead us to this Seephinia. The child didn’t need to know our tongue to recognize the coin flashed beneath his nose, and he led us to a small float, constructed of a few flimsy wooden planks lashed across the backs of a pair of barrels and tied at the end of a pier.

Fleet took one doubtful look at the craft and told me, “I’ve gotten you this far. Surely you can manage the rest on your own.”