*
Eleanor made a habit of passing through the Old Barrel Yard daily after that, gradually getting to know a few friendly faces, and exchanging pleasantries with the landlord, whose name turned out to be Ade. She didn’t give her own name, and he was smart enough never to ask. She didn’t have to wait very long for her plan to bear fruit: it was only four days later, as she was sitting and shivering over her now-regular tankard of spiced ale, that Ade came over and sat at an empty seat across from her.
“Someone was in here asking about you, miss,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Young chap. Dark skinned, lanky, wouldn’t give a name. One of those assassin types, if you ask me.”
Eleanor made what she hoped was a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, and took another mouthful of her drink.
“I didn’t tell him nothing, mind. You don’t run a place like this for long if you’re in the habit of snitching on your customers. But he said he’d be back tomorrow, and something about making a deal, if you were interested.”
Eleanor nodded her thanks. If she’d learnt one thing about the rebel mentality, it was that she could hide behind silence. Keeping your own counsel was simply good sense where the rebel groups were concerned, and that suited her purposes.
Ade retreated to his chair behind the bar, and Eleanor sat in silence until she finished her drink. The rest of the tavern was still quiet at this hour.
She went to leave, then turned back to the bar as if an idea had struck.
“I’ll leave that lad a message,” she said. “Just in case he calls again. Tell him that if he puts fifty dollars down with you as a mark of his good faith, then I’ll give him a meeting place and time.”
“Fifty dollars.”
“Ten percent for you,” Eleanor said. “What he wants to buy is worth ten times that much, so if he’s serious, he won’t even hesitate.”
“Fifty dollars,” Ade repeated, and she could tell he was wondering what sort of business he was involving himself in. “I’ll tell him.”
When she called back the following day, her fifty dollars was waiting.
“Same lad?” she asked as she split off five for Ade. He nodded, and she wondered who it could have been. None of the Association would ever have exposed themselves with such an elementary mistake, so presumably they’d found themselves a runner amongst the younger rebels.
“I told him to come back tomorrow,” Ade said. “So you can hold up your end of the bargain.”
“Tomorrow?”
“That feels quite long enough to wait for something he’s already paid fifty dollars for.”
Eleanor sighed. She’d hoped to have longer to consult with Nicholas, Ivan, and the others, but the landlord seemed determined to ensure both sides of the deal were completed as soon as possible. “Okay,” she said. “Tell him to come alone to the fountain in the Grand Square, at sunset on the night of the full moon. He’ll need to come prepared to negotiate a price, a date, and conditions for the exchange. Do you need me to write any of that down?”
“D’you really think I can’t remember a few words?”
She shrugged, and picked up her ale. “That’s fine, then. Thanks for all your help.”
Revolution (Chronicles of Charanthe #2) Page 36