Liavek 3

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Liavek 3 Page 6

by Will Shetterly


  When she was finished eating and had carefully licked her fingers clean, she considered putting out her hat for an hour or so. She could always use the practice on her cittern. On the other hand, with her purse still weighty from Tapper Tan's commission, and with Dumps's commission in the offing, she didn't really have the proper air of desperation to do any street singing today. She just wasn't feeling poor enough to put on a proper show. At that moment her friend Kaloo plonked down beside her and settled the whole question.

  "My, you're looking prosperous today," Kaloo said.

  Saffer nodded. "I finished up that commission for Tapper Tan and I've got a new one."

  "Don't tell me—let me guess. The Levar's asked you to play for her on her luck day!"

  "Nothing so grand. I'm providing the music for a night of private bidding—Dumps arranged the whole thing."

  "What'll you be dressed up as this time?" Kaloo asked. "An Ombayan parrot?"

  Saffer laughed. "At least I wasn't named after the kookaloo." The kookaloo was a wild songbird that left its eggs in other birds' nests. From someone else, Kaloo might have taken this as an insult, but coming from Saffer, she just laughed.

  "Be that as it may," she said, "I saw Dumps at the other end of the park having a most earnest conversation with Coniam—the wizard Coniam," she added.

  "I know those who're Wizards and those who aren't," Saffer said. Coniam lived at 13 Wizard's Row, and while he wasn't the most powerful magic-worker in Liavek, he wasn't exactly a slouch either. But what business could Dumps have with him? "What were they talking about?" she asked aloud.

  Kaloo shrugged. "Who knows? I could ask L'Fertti, but he's not all that mad about cardsharps—especially not dandies like your Dumps. When's this bidding party anyway?"

  "Twenty-eighth of the month."

  "Can you use a whistle player?"

  "Who? Meggy?"

  Kaloo nodded. "She's looking for work."

  "How is she on Zhir tunes?"

  Kaloo pulled a face. "Awful. I don't like listening to all that modal stuff either. Is that what Dumps wants you to play?"

  "Nothing but. He says it's to add a little tension to the game, to keep the bidders on a sharp edge. They'll play better—and pay better."

  "How much better?"

  "Five levars for the evening," Saffer said smugly.

  "Five...?" Kaloo shook her head. "Oh, that doesn't sound right, Saffer. If it was anyone but Dumps...."

  "He's not so bad," Saffer said, but she was beginning to have her doubts again. She didn't like to hear about Dumps being seen in the company of a wizard.

  "I have to go," Kaloo said suddenly.

  "Me, too," Saffer said. She slung her cittern bag over her shoulder.

  "Don't go off in a huff," Kaloo began and Saffer joined her to finish with: "Just go!"

  Laughing, Saffer gave her friend a jaunty wave and set off in search of Dumps.

  •

  Saffer found Dumps in a tavern that night—the Kondy's Brew off Rat's Alley—and he immediately proceeded to alleviate her worries with two brimming mugs of ale and protestations of innocence that were as preposterous as they were anatomically impossible.

  "It's just a luck day party," he finished. "That's all. And Coniam's footing the bill. These're his friends, Saffer—remember friends? They're the sort of people one trusts and depends on."

  "What do you mean by a 'luck day party'?"

  "Well, it just so happens that each of our five fine—and might I add wealthy—guests were born on that same day, at approximately the same time. Coniam's thinking of organizing a club for them."

  Saffer studied her ale for a long moment. Was this still her first, or a second? It was so smoky in here and ale always went right to her head; it was difficult for her to work it out. What she did know was that the more she heard about this bidding party, the worse it was beginning to sound.

  "They're friends?" she tried again.

  "The very best."

  "All born around the same time?"

  "So Coniam says. Actually, I think they're more his friends than each others'. This party's for them to all meet and form this—"

  "Club. Yes. You mentioned that."

  "Would you like another ale?"

  "I don't think I should. And so they're going to have a friendly game of Two-Copper Bid, while I play Zhir tunes to make them tense…. This sounds mad, you know that, don't you, Dumps?"

  "I prefer the word 'eccentric.' Poor people are mad; rich people are eccentric. I read that in The Cat Street Crier."

  "Yes, well, I don't think I want the commission anymore," Saffer said.

  "Oh, but you can't back out now—Coniam wouldn't like it. Not now that I've told you all about it."

  "What's he going to do?" Saffer asked. "Turn me into a frog?" But then, he was a wizard and the trouble with wizards was that they were liable to do anything. "Oh, I don't like this at all, Dumps. Not one bit. You promised me there'd be no trouble."

  "And there won't be. Just come and play some music, collect your five levars, then tra-la-la, off you go."

  Saffer took a long swig of her ale. She was still thinking about frogs and what it would be like to be one.

  "I don't like it either," Dumps admitted. "If I'd known...." He fidgeted with his ale mug and sighed. "But what's to do? He is a wizard."

  "What's in it for him?" Saffer asked. "I mean all this talk about a club—that's just nonsense. So what's he got planned?"

  "Think about it."

  Saffer didn't want to because she was feeling somewhat woozy, but she gave it a try. "There'll be five of them," she said. "All playing cards, all concentrating their luck on those cards...on their luck day...right in the hours of their luck, the only time it's really potent for anyone who isn't a wizard....Oh, Dumps! He means to bind their luck into a pack of cards!"

  Dumps nodded glumly. "And they're so keen on the chance to play when their luck's at their best, they can't even see it. When the night's done, Coniam will be able to use those cards and no one will be able to beat him. They'll never guess that he's cheating. In fact, it doesn't even have to be him using the cards. Anyone who knows how to use them will be unbeatable."

  That was the worst thing that you could do to someone, Saffer thought. Steal their luck. And these players, they'd lose their luck for as long as the cards existed. And if their luck was bound into the deck and the cards were somehow destroyed...they'd all die. With that control held over them, they wouldn't dare do anything to Coniam if they found out what he'd done for fear he'd destroy the cards.

  "But why us?" Saffer asked. "Why would he pick us?"

  "Well, he wasn't too happy about my bringing you in—your brother Demar being in the Guard and all—but I know he approached me because...well, who could I tell? Who'd listen to old Dumps if he tried to pass around a story like that? I'm like the lookout who cried land once to often."

  "What are we going to do?"

  Dumps shrugged. "Nothing. I'll run the bidding and you'll play your music and, after it's over, we'll both go home a little richer."

  "But those players—what about their luck? What if they come after us when they realize what's been done?"

  "There's no way for them to know, Saffer. They're not wizards. The only ones who'll know will be you and me."

  "And Coniam."

  "And Coniam," Dumps agreed.

  "And he's a wizard," Saffer said, "who could conceivably turn us into newts or toads so that we couldn't spread the tale around."

  "Or he could kill us."

  "Dumps! You promised this would be safe!"

  "Or he could just pay us and let us go, because who'd believe us anyway?"

  "I suppose," Saffer said, a little mollified. "I wonder what he needs those cards for. You'd think he'd turn his wizardry to a more honest way of making a living."

  "Depends on what his luck is. I don't think it's anything useful or he wouldn't be trying this, now would he? I've also heard—just this evening, mind, so
don't start on me again about my leading you into danger—I've just heard that Coniam owes a certain Brugsti a great number of levars."

  "Brugsti? This just keeps getting worse, Dumps! Brugsti's a thug."

  "Agreed. A very rich, powerful, unpleasant-if-you-cross-him-thug. He also happens to be completely resistant to magic—"

  "I didn't know that."

  "—which makes things difficult if you're a wizard and have decided to renege on your debts to him. Brugsti's paid a lot of levars to a lot of powerful wizards for that immunity, so it's either pay up with him, or get thumped."

  "Or worse."

  "Or worse," Dumps agreed.

  Saffer commandeered an ale from the tray of a waiter going by, gave Dumps a nod that he should pay, and took a long gulp. Was this her third, or her second? It didn't really matter, not when life as a toad was potentially in the offing.

  "What are you doing?" Dumps asked her as he paid the waiter.

  "I," she announced a little unsteadily, "am going to get levarly drunk. It's the twenty-sixth today, so I'm going to stay drunk until sometime on the twenty-ninth, whereupon I shall sober up—if I'm still all in one piece."

  "But what about the commission? Can you still play when you're soused?"

  Saffer finished the ale in a second long swallow and regarded him blearily. "I play much better," she assured him and promptly fell head forward against the table. Dumps caught her before her forehead was introduced to the oak slats and propped her back up in her chair. Her head lolled to one side.

  "I don't suppose it would help if I said I was sorry?" he asked, but he wasn't really expecting an answer.

  •

  When Saffer woke the next day it was late afternoon. She immediately discovered three things. The first was that her head felt as though someone had mistaken it for an anvil. The second was that if she moved very slowly and squinted rather than opened her eyes, the pain would be almost bearable. The third was that she had woken in Dumps's bed with Dumps snoring beside her. She gave him a poke.

  "Huh-whuzzat?"

  Saffer squinted daggers at him. "What," she began, grimaced, then quickly lowered her voice, "am I doing here?"

  "You were sleeping," Dumps mumbled and began to turn over.

  Saffer poked him again. "Did we...?" She'd been a little lax with her Worrynot of late.

  Dumps rolled his eyes. "Odd's End, Saffer! I've told you before, you're too skinny for my tastes. Now either go back to sleep or go away."

  Saffer thought about thumping him, but decided that in her present state it would probably hurt her more than him. Instead she got up, found she was still fully clothed, grabbed her cittern bag from where it was hanging on the end of the bed, and made for the door. Dumps sat up in sudden alarm.

  "Where are you going?" he demanded.

  "Out."

  "You're not planning a repeat of last night's performance, are you?"

  "First," she informed him, "I'm going to look up Marithana and see what sort of a cure she can sell me for this head of mine, and then I'm going to the marsh to look at the ducks."

  "But you will honor the commission?"

  "We'll see," she said maliciously and closed the door. His shouting after her, while it made her head throb more, was still music to her ears. Let him stew a bit, she thought. Serves him right, the rotter, for getting me into this in the fIrst place.

  •

  "Fold."

  "I'll see your bid and call."

  "Fold."

  "Fold."

  "His lordship has a fIlled tower," Dumps said as Lord Shin, the Count of Grandeth, spread out his cards. "Mages high." He looked expectantly to Mistress Olna, the Vavasor of Chem's Way, who had seen the count's bid, but she shook her head and threw in her hand. Dumps pushed the pot over to Shin and collected the cards. "Ante up," he said as he began to shuffle the deck.

  His lordship was doing very well tonight, Saffer thought, though all five of them would be the losers before the night was out, if Coniam had his way. She was sitting in a corner, playing a Zhir version of an old ballad known in Liavek as "My Love's Left Me and My Luck's All Gone" on her cittern. The irony of its title would be lost on all of them, except perhaps the wizard.

  They were using one of the back rooms at Cheeky's for the party. Besides the count and the vavasor, there were three wealthy merchants in on the game. Dumps was the dealer, of course, and she was the entertainment. Judging from the irritated glances that were cast in her direction every so often, she was fulfilling her commission properly, if not pleasing the guests.

  Two dancers from Cheeky's had been hired to keep a steady supply of drinks and pastries at each player's elbow. Saffer didn't know either of them and they hadn't bothered to introduce themselves, which suited her just fine. Not present, though certainly watching from a peephole, was the host of the party. After briefly introducing the players to each other, Coniam had bowed out because of other "pressing business."

  Saffer sighed as she started up a new tune. It would be at least another hour before the party wound down. Her fingers were getting stiff, though not so stiff that she wouldn't be able to play her own card when the bidders' game was done. Given two days to think about it, she knew that Coniam wouldn't be physically present. And this afternoon, while supposedly checking the room's acoustics, she'd found the chalk markings that encircled the underside of the table, confirming her guess. These five citizens had been chosen because their luck times all coincided with his. At this very moment he was somewhere very near, investing the cards with his own luck as well.

  Oh, Coniam was a clever sod, Saffer thought, yes, indeed. It was just too bad for him that he hadn't taken into account the fact that there might be an honest rogue or two in Rat's Alley.

  Another hand had ended, one of the merchants being its winner, and Dumps was dealing the cards anew, seven to each player. Two-Copper Bid, Saffer thought. Levar's blood! There was more wealth on that table than she'd ever seen before in one place. They should have called this game Ten-Silver Bid. Each of the players discarded two cards and then the bidding began again. Saffer started up another tune.

  •

  "Every cramp in my fingers has its own cramp," Saffer said as she put away her cittern. She slung the bag over her shoulder and wandered over to the table where Dumps was sitting wearily. She flexed her fingers in front of him for a moment. "See?" she said, then added: "Time to pay up."

  As Dumps bent down to get at the money box by his feet, Saffer picked up the cards and gave them a quick shuffle.

  "Don't touch those!" Dumps cried and snatched them from her.

  "Oh, grumpy, aren't we?"

  "Don't start, Saffer. Here's your five levars."

  Saffer counted them out very carefully, grinning at the annoyance on Dumps's face, then stowed the coins in her purse. Making sure that it was still firmly attached to her belt, she buttoned it shut and gave it a pat.

  "One last favor," she said as she headed for the door.

  "What's that?"

  "Don't do me any more favors."

  Dumps looked as though he was seriously considering throwing something at her.

  "Sink you, if you can't take a joke," she said and stepped quickly out of the room."

  •

  The pounding came at her door at approximately an hour before sunrise—a full half-hour later than she'd been expecting it.

  "It's open!" she called out cheerfully.

  Dumps stormed in. "You ungrateful wretch!" he cried. "Give me the card!"

  "What card?"

  "Don't play innocent with me. The Rikiki card that you filched from the deck tonight."

  "Oh, that card."

  "Did you really think you could get away with switching it for one that wasn't a part of the binding? Saffer, he's going to kill me if I don't get it back."

  "How? With some terrible spell?"

  "He's a wizard, sinkbrain! Get that through that tiny mind of yours."

  Saffer smiled. When she was in
the room that afternoon she'd made sure that the Rikiki card she was going to have hidden up her sleeve that night matched the pack they were using. After that, with the sleight-of-hand tricks she'd picked up from hanging around with Dumps, it had been child's play to exchange the two when she gave the pack a quick shuffle at the end of the night.

  "A wizard without his luck is all he is," she said. "He doesn't frighten me."

  "And Brugsti?"

  "Well, he's a different matter, but he's Coniam's worry, not ours. Brugsti may be a thug, but he's not stupid enough to come after us because Coniam can't make good his debts. The Alley'd get together and sink him in the harbor."

  "Saffer, please. Maybe Brugsti won't come after us, but Coniam can certainly hire a few thugs who will."

  "But then he'd never find out where I hid this card, would he?"

  "Saffer, don't do this to me."

  "All right," she relented. "Tell Coniam that I'll meet him on the docks tonight—ten sharp. We'll work out a deal."

  "A deal? Are you mad?"

  "No. But I plan to be eccentric some day."

  "Saffer—"

  "Ten tonight. On the docks. Near Yonner's Netting. He can come alone, or bring his merry luck day club with him—I don't care."

  "Saffer—"

  "Goodnight, Dumps."

  He stared at her for a long moment, then slowly backed out the door and slammed it behind him. The look on his face, Saffer decided, made this all very worthwhile. It was about time he was on the receiving end of things going wrong.

  •

  Coniam was prompt—Saffer had to give him that—and very sure of himself. The only person accompanying him to the meeting place was a miserable-looking Dumps.

  The wizard was a formidable figure. He was a head taller than Dumps, which made him two heads taller than Saffer. She looked up into his lean features and swallowed thickly at the blaze of anger that brooded in his eyes. He wasn't the sort one would want to meet in a dark alley—with or without his spells. He was also quite rude, Saffer thought, as he came directly to the point without even a few words of preamble.

  "Do you have the card?"

 

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