Prince of the Blood (42 page)

Borric said, “May you sing victory songs for many years, legionary.”

As if they were old friends saying good-bye, they shook again, and Borric turned and shouldered past two soldiers on the dock. One had observed the farewell and started to say something to Borric, but thought better of it and turned his attention to another man trying to push past, a strange little Isalani from Shing Lai.

Borric crossed the street, then paused, waiting to see what was occurring. Nakor and the guard seemed to be in some sort of an argument, and several other guardsmen
turned to see what the problem was. Ghuda materialized beside Borric, seemingly having come to that spot by chance. A few moments later, Suli came to stand next to Borric. Nakor now had a circle of guards and one pointed at the rucksack he always carried.

Finally, as if relenting on some point, the Isalani handed the rucksack over to the first guard, who stuck his hand in the bag. After a moment, the guard turned the bag upside down and then pulled it inside out. It was now empty.

Ghuda gave a low whistle. “How in the world did he do that?”

Borric said, “Maybe all his magic isn’t just sleight of hand.”

Ghuda said, “Well, Madman, we are in the city of Kesh. Where to now?”

Glancing about, Borric said, “Turn right and walk along the dockside. At the third street, turn right again and keep going until you find an inn. We’ll meet at the first inn we encounter.” Ghuda nodded and headed off. “Suli,” Borric whispered, “wait for Nakor and tell him.”

The boy said, “Yes, master,” and Borric left him, and made his way leisurely after Ghuda.

The inn was a seedy riverfront establishment with the grandiose name the Emperor’s Standard and Jeweled Crown. Borric had no idea what event in Keshian history had prompted this odd name, but there was nothing in the least bit Imperial nor jewel-like about this establishment. It was like a hundred other dark and smoky establishments in a hundred cities on Midkemia. Languages and customs might differ, but the patrons were all cut from the same cloth, bandits, thieves, cutthroats of every stripe, gamblers, whores, and drunkards. Borric felt at home for the first time since entering Kesh.

Glancing around, he saw that the usual respect for privacy prevailed here as in the other like inns he and Erland used to frequent in the Kingdom. Casually, looking down at his mug, he said, “We can assume that at least one of these customers is either an Imperial agent or an informer.”

Ghuda removed his helm, scratched his scalp, itching from perspiration, and said, “That’s a safe bet.”

“We won’t stay here,” said Borric.

“That’s a relief,” said Ghuda, “though I would like a drink before we seek lodgings.”

Borric agreed and the big man caught the attention of a serving boy, who returned with four chilled ales. Borric sipped his and said, “I’m surprised it’s chilled.”

Ghuda stretched. “If you bother to glance north the next time you’re outside, Madman, you’ll notice a tiny range of mountains called the Spires of Light. They are called such because their highest peaks are constantly coated with ice, which—when conditions are right—reflect the sunlight with an impressive effect. There is a thriving business in ice in this city. The Guild of Ice Cutters is among the richest guilds in Kesh.”

“You learn something new every day,” said Borric.

Nakor said, “I don’t like it. Ale should be warm. This makes my head hurt.”

Borric laughed. Ghuda said, “Well, then, we’re in Kesh. How do we reach these friends of yours?”

Borric lowered his voice. “I …”

Ghuda’s eyes narrowed. “What now?”

“I know where they are. I’m just not sure how to get there.”

Ghuda’s eyes became angry slits. “Where?”

“They are in the palace.”

“Gods’ teeth!” Ghuda exploded, and several of the inn’s patrons turned for a moment to see what caused the outburst. Lowering his voice to a whisper, but not losing
his angry tone, he said, “You are joking, aren’t you? Please say that you are joking.”

Borric shook his head. Ghuda stood up and put his lone dirk in his belt, and picked up his helm. “Where are you going?” asked Borric.

“Anywhere but where you are going, Madman.”

Borric said, “You gave your word!”

Looking down, Ghuda said, “I said I’d get you to Kesh. You’re in Kesh. You didn’t say a thing about the palace.” Pointing an accusatory finger at Borric, he said, “You owe me five thousand golden ecu, and I’ll never see a tenth of one coin of it.”

Borric said, “You’ll get it. You have my word. But I have to find my friends.”

“In the palace,” hissed Ghuda.

“Sit down, people are watching.”

Ghuda sat. “Let them watch. I’m going to be on the first boat for Kimri I can find. I’ll get to Hansulé and take ship for the Eastern Kingdoms. I will be sitting caravan watch in some foreign land for the rest of my life, but I’ll be alive, which is more than I can say for you if you try to get into the palace.”

Borric smiled. “I know a trick or two. What will it take to keep you with us?”

Ghuda couldn’t believe Borric was serious. After a moment, he said, “Double what you promised. Ten thousand ecu.”

Borric said, “Done.”

“Ha!” snapped Ghuda. “Easy enough to promise anything when we’re all going to be dead in a day or two.”

Turning to Suli, Borric said, “We need to get in touch with certain people.”

Suli blinked uncomprehendingly. “Master?”

Whispering, Borric said, “The Guild of Thieves. The Mockers. The Ragged Brotherhood, or whatever they’re called in this city.”

Suli nodded as if he understood, but his expression showed he didn’t have a hint as to what Borric wanted. “Master?”

Borric said, “What sort of a street beggar are you?”

Suli shrugged. “One from a city without such a group, master.”

Borric shook his head. “Look, get out of here and find the nearest market. Find a beggar—you’ll be able to do that, won’t you?” Suli nodded. “Just drop a coin in his hand and say there’s a traveler who needs to speak to someone on a matter of urgency and that it is a matter worth the time of people who can get things done in this city. Understand?”

“I think so, master.”

“If the beggar asks any more questions, just say this …” Borric sought to remember some of the stories James had told him about his own boyhood with the thieves of Krondor and after a long moment he added, “… one is in town who wishes not to cause difficulty by being here, but who wishes to make arrangements so that all may benefit. Can you do that?”

Suli repeated his instructions and when Borric was satisfied he had them correctly, he sent the boy off. They drank in relative silence, until Borric saw Nakor reach into his rucksack and pull out some cheese and bread. Looking pointedly at the Isalani, Borric said, “Hey, wait a minute. When the guard examined that bag it was empty?”

“That’s right,” said Nakor, his white teeth looking as if they didn’t quite fit his face.

“How’d you do that?” asked Ghuda.

“It’s a trick,” answered the laughing little man, as if that explained everything.

At sundown, Suli returned. He sat down next to Borric and said, “Master, it took a while, but at last did I find
such a one as you required. I gave him a coin and said as I was instructed. That one asked many questions, but I only repeated what you said, and refused more. He bid me wait for him and vanished. With much fear I waited, but when he returned all was well. He said those you wish to speak with will meet us and named the time and place.”

“Where and when?” asked Ghuda.

To Borric, Suli said, “The time is the second ringing of the watchbell after sundown. The place is but a short walk from here. I know it because he made me repeat the directions several times. But we must go to the market and find it from there, for I would not tell this beggar where we were staying.”

“Good,” said Borric. “We’ve been here too long as it is. Let’s go.”

They rose and left, following Suli to the nearest market square. Borric was again astonished at the press of humanity around him, and the diversity of it. If he felt foolish, no one took note of his impersonation of a Bendrifi. The array of costumes, and lack thereof, he saw in Faráfra was even more varied in the Empire’s capital. The blackest skin Borric had ever seen gleamed in the late afternoon sun as lion hunters of the grassy plains walked by, and yet there were enough fair-skinned people to show that those who once lived in the Kingdom had come to Kesh over the years. Many had the narrow eyes and yellowish skin that Nakor possessed, but their dress was in different fashion than the Isalani—some wearing silk jackets and knee breeches, others wearing armor, and still others in simple monks’ robes. Women in all states of dress, from the most modest to almost naked, passed by, and few took notice, unless the woman was unusually striking.

A pair of Ashuntai plainsmen sauntered by, each leading a pair of women on chains; the women were nude and walked with eyes downcast. A company of brawny-looking
men with red and blond hair, wearing furs and armor despite the heat, passed them by, and insults were exchanged.

Borric turned to Ghuda and said, “What was that?”

“Brijaners—seamen from Brijané, and the towns along the shore below the Grimstone Mountains. They’re raiders and traders who ply the Great Sea from Kesh to the Eastern Kingdoms in their long ships—and even across the Endless Sea, the stories claim. They are proud, violent men, and they worship the spirits of their dead mothers. All Brijaner women are seers and priestesses, and the men believe their ghosts come to guide their ships and therefore hold all women sacred. The Ashuntai treat women worse than dogs. If it wasn’t for the Empress’s peace seal being on the city, they’d be trying to kill one another on sight.”

Borric said, “Wonderful. Are there many such feuds in Kesh?”

Ghuda said, “No more than usual. About a hundred such, give or take a few, on any given festival. That’s why the Palace Guards and the Inner Legion are here in strength. The Legion has dominion over the Inner Empire, all that surrounds the Overn, inside the ring of mountains formed by the Mother of Waters, Spires of Light, Guardians, and Grimstones. Outside of that, local lords run things. Only on the Imperial highways and at these sort of festivals is peace enforced. At other times”—he made a sharp motion with his hand—“one side or the other is dogmeat.”

Kesh was a wonder to Borric. The throng in the streets was both familiar and alien. So much of what a city was was familiar to him, but
this
city was overlaid with ages of an alien culture.

When they entered the market, Borric said, “This is pretty impressive.”

Ghuda snorted. “This is a local market, Madman. The
big one is across from the amphitheater. That’s where most travelers will go.”

Borric shook his head. Glancing around, he said to Suli, “When should we leave?”

“We have a while, master.” As he spoke, a dozen chimes and gongs around the city rang, as the sun vanished over the horizon. “The second bell, so it will be an hour.”

“Well, then, let’s find something to eat.”

They agreed on that, and set off in search of a street vendor whose wares weren’t too costly.