Shadowspawn (Thieves' World Book 4)

by Andrew J Offutt

  “Damn!” Rimizin said, looking past Hanse. “Looks like you kept that horse here too long, Gaise!”

  Hanse turned in the saddle to see the grey horse with his tail up. He heard the last of the plopping noises behind Gary. Good, Hanse thought. That’s what they deserve for keeping us in the saddle, blabbering in the sun! A nice steamy mess they’ll have to clean up. Too bad it won’t be Gaise and his old clerk!

  Gaise laughed. “My fault. I’m sorry, Rim. My boys and I just went off duty.”

  “Next time we visit an inn together,” Rimizin said dryly, “you pay! Taff — grab the nearest beggar and tell him we’ve got some fuel here he can peddle. Drag him if you have to.” He looked up at Hanse. “Ever meet a man named Ratsiraka, down in Sanctuary?”

  “Never did.”

  “Good for you. Welcome to Firaqa.” Rim waved a hand loosely. “Go find the Green Goose, afore another of those animals gets the same urge that grey one did.”

  “Yes sir, Sergeant. My pleasure, Sergeant. Sergeant Gaise — you want to ride?”

  Gaise chuckled, punching the tower man in the arm as he came down and one of the new men started up the ladder. “I don’t know Tejana voice commands either, Hanse!”

  Mignureal and one of Gaise’s men laughed aloud. Hanse shrugged. “Mount the other black. He’s never been Tejana property — except for a few hours.”

  Gaise started toward Blackie; Rim made a motion; the two sergeants stepped aside. The men of Gaise’s command, relieved and apparently through for the day, were drifting away. Hanse pretended not to notice Rim muttering to his fellow sergeant, with a glance or two Hanse’s way. Shadowspawn’s back began prickling. He glanced at Mignureal. Now Gaise was nodding, shrugging, giving Rimizin a slap on the upper arm.

  “Later,” he said, and went back to detach Blackie from the line of horses. He mounted swiftly and expertly and paced up beside Hanse. “Hanse, MinYOU-reel — this way.”

  “Min-you-ree-al,” Mignureal said.

  *

  The ruddy-faced proprietor of the inn under the sign of the Green Goose was impressed to receive guests escorted by a Watch sergeant. Too, he and Gaise were obviously on friendly terms. That impressed Hanse; that he and Mignureal arrived with six horses not to mention an ass impressed the jowly proprietor, Khulna. “Aye,” the tall and balding man said with the slightest of nods, he could accommodate those animals. He was afraid that Hanse and Mignue must look out for the smaller ones themselves, however. Yes, he had a nice room, upstairs and in back. “Aye,” he said with the slightest of smiles, the door had a good inner lock.

  “Let’s hear about money,” Hanse said, and Khulna asked how long they’d be staying, and about the horses. “Awhile. Days. Maybe a week or longer. We’ll be selling several of the animals as soon as we can without hurrying so much that we take just any price.”

  “Let’s talk about the weekly rate, then. Meals?”

  “Uh, all right. Never more than two a day, and we don’t eat much to begin with, either of us.”

  “Anh-huh,” Khulna said, and looked upward to let them see that he was calculating.

  He named a price, in copper coinage. Sparks, he called the coppers. Hanse asked how that compared to the cost of a loaf of good bread, and then a horse. Next he asked about silver and both Khulna and Gaise raised their brows. Khulna gave him an answer in grains and Hanse asked about coins.

  “Whose coins?”

  “Ranke,” Hanse said.

  “You talking about Imperials?”

  Hanse nodded.

  “Every Rankan Imperial I’ve seen has been good silver,”

  Khulna told him straightforwardly. “Not only that, I’ll admit I love ‘em. You come up with one of those and you have a month’s lodgings, assuming you sell some horses.”

  “I don’t want to talk about a month, not just yet.” Khulna shrugged. “Then I owe you some difference. That would give you some Spades to spend here in Firaqa, too.” Hanse decided he’d done being cautious. He would check elsewhere later. He said, “Please don’t be alarmed when I bring a sheathed knife out of my tunic.”

  “With Gaise standing behind you?” Khulna’s face cracked in the slightest of smiles.

  Hanse thrust a hand down into the front of his tunic and pulled out the sheathed throwing knife. He offered the blunt, flat end to the innkeeper, who accepted the invitation to draw it. He looked impressed when the blade emerged.

  “You throw?”

  “I try,” Hanse said, and tapped the sheath against his palm until the coin dropped out. He laid it on Khulna’s counter.

  Khulna picked it up, handed Hanse the knife, examined the coin, squeezed it, squinted at it, walked over to the window and peered at it again. He returned. “I owe you some difference,” he said. “Sparks all right? — Firaqi coppers?” Hanse shrugged and Khulna reached under the counter. He counted out a fair number of square copper coins, each with a round hole in the centre. “Look about right to you, Gaise?”

  “What do I know about money, Khulna? I work for the city.”

  The two men laughed in what Hanse took for a ritual. “Does that look satisfactory?” Khulna asked.

  Hanse looked straight into the large man’s eyes. “I can’t say. By this time tomorrow I’ll know.”

  “Anh-huh, I’d say you will. You, uh, have some more of those?”

  Hanse stared coolly at him. Khulna spread his hands. “Sorry. What I was thinking about is the danger to you. I could put them in a safe place for you. If you have more, that’s better than carrying them around.”

  Hanse turned to Gaise. “What’s Firaqi law about doing physical harm on an assailant or would-be robber, Sergeant? Even unto death, say.”

  Gaise raised his eyebrows and both hands. “Who knows? If someone accosts you and you defend yourself, that surely couldn’t be against any law in the world! Are you good with that sword?”

  “Yes.” Hanse’s voice and his expression matched: flat.

  “Better than the man you got it from?”

  Hanse’s stomach tightened. Hanse didn’t even blink. “Aye.”

  Gaise continued looking relaxed and friendly. “A farm lad came in the gate last night saying that a certain trickster, confidence man, and stand-man had been killed in Olula Woods by his latest intended prey. Was that you?”

  “What’s a stand-man?”

  “A fellow who has a sword or knife in your back or an arrow aimed at you and says ‘Stand and stand away.’ Means dismount and give me what you’ve got. We’ve been looking for one. He eluded us and we think he got out of the city a few days ago. Rimizin thinks you rode in on that fellow’s horse.”

  “His name was Sinajhal,” Hanse said, “or so he told us. Flamboyant, just brimming over with charm. Met us on the road and gave us a little lie to get us to ‘shortcut’ through some woods. Some farmfolk we met were delighted. They treated us as heroes and buried him last night, a few hours from here.”

  “That’s your first service to Firaqa and hereabouts,” Gaise said. “Was he alone?”

  “No. The farmers didn’t recognize his partner. So, just in case, we told them he was Mignureal’s uncle. He’s planted, too. Wearing one of Sinajhal’s crossbow bolts in his forehead.”

  “Fore-head!”

  “The partner was in front and Sinajhal was behind. I ducked.”

  Gaise and Khulna laughed aloud. Once they’d quieted down Hanse urgently requested that they tell no one of either the Sinajhal business or the coin. “I don’t want anyone to know we have money, or that I’m dangerous.” Sobering and gazing thoughtfully at him, both men promised.

  Then Gaise said, “Are you good at throwing knives too, Hanse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Umm. Should I be worried about you in my city, Hanse of Sanctuary?”

  “I am not after anyone and I am not looking for trouble. Obviously Mignue and I have wherewithal. If anything, I’ll be wary of becoming a victim in your city, Gaise.”

  “I will be working,�
� Mignureal said. “I tell fortunes.”

  “What?” That was Gaise, but all three were jarred by her speaking; she had been silent for a long, long while.

  “Are there no S’danzo in Firaqa? It is the trade of many of us S’danzo women.”

  Khulna slapped the counter, which startled Hanse. Khulna was startled to be facing a man in a semi-crouch, wearing a dangerous look. “Sorry! I just remembered. S’danzo — yes! I know of two, and aye, they read the future for a coin.”

  “I hadn’t intended for you to be working, Mignue,” Hanse said.

  “I will be. A woman of the S’danzo does not not work.”

  They stared at each other.

  “Think I’ll have me a cup,” Khulna said into air gone suddenly tense. “Gaise?”

  “Draw two,” Gaise said, uncomfortably watching the young couple.

  “Uh, Hanse? Is that right: ‘Hanse’?”

  “Aye,” Hanse said, without looking away from Mignureal. “No I don’t want anyth — yes please, draw three. Get ready, Notable.”

  *

  “You never said anything to me about intending to work the way your mother did,” Hanse said awhile later, in an accusing voice.

  The horses and ass were stabled and their owners were settled in a comfortable enough room in the Green Goose, upstairs in back. Notable had immediately demanded to be let out, proving that he was housebroken. Hanse and he had also swiftly proven that the little roof just outside the window was perfectly all right with the big red cat. As a matter of fact Notable preferred to remain out there, curled up on the green roof over the Green Goose’s storeroom. He had delighted Gaise and Khulna by the way he went after that beer, and now he needed a snooze.

  Rainbow had watched everything, and Hanse and Mignureal crossed their fingers in hopes that the calico cat was either housebroken or a fast learner.

  “Yes I did,” Mignureal said lightly, busily unpacking and placing colourful things here and there. “Back on the desert. You remember. Do you want — ”

  “No I don’t,” Hanse said. “I don’t remember anything of the kind.”

  She paused to look at him. “You said that with the coins and the horses we had enough to live for a long time. I told you I would not be able not to do anything to bring in more money. You didn’t say a word, then.”

  Hanse’s mouth formed a silent o. He remembered. True, he had not argued. For one thing, he’d been too busy working out the meaning of her oddly worded sentence.

  “Do you want to hide your black clothing or just leave it packed?”

  Hanse blinked, still thinking about “not be able not to do anything” and having to lurch to follow her leap from a subject she obviously considered closed.

  “Ah — I’ll lay it out under the mattress. But — ”

  “I’ll do it. Umm, nice mattress too, darling. Stuffed tight with shucks so it’s firm but soft all at once.”

  Bent over the bed with both hands on it, she looked up at him, and Hanse swallowed. Not only did it resemble his own sweet look that she must have borrowed from him, he was looking right down into the front of her undertunic and blousy over-tunic. He wasn’t looking at coins, either.

  “All that talking and dreaming about a real bed,” he murmured. “And now we have one, and what are we doing? I’m griping at you again.”

  “Oh Hanse, you’re not griping. You just for — ”

  “Sh’up, woman,” he snarled in an unreal voice, “an’ getcher clo’es off. That bed wants testing.”

  “Yessir.”

  The mattress proved to be just right.

  *

  Khulna’s wife Chondey nudged him when the new couple came down to dine in the Green Goose’s common room. They were positively glowing. Head on one side, the considerably overweight woman watched them with soft eyes. Whether she was beaming or simpering or looking wistful was open to discussion.

  Hanse and Mignue meanwhile had their first view of Khulna’s wife and his plump daughter Chiri, who served them. Seven of the other diners and drinkers were male. The two females were plumper than Chiri. Most of the males flirted with her, but kept their hands to themselves. Her father, after all, was there, and he was no small man.

  These were less noisy, Hanse noted, than the patrons of places he was familiar with back home. He did not mention that to Mignureal, since nearly all his experience was with low dives.

  Though still aglow when they arose, he had insisted that they secrete the “good” coins again on their persons before coming down here to the common room. The saddlebag and the cats should be safe in their room, he said. Let someone just try to sneak in there, with Notable on the premises!

  Then he had to wait while Mignureal pinned up her hair, looking into the wall-mounted mirror of metal. He was impatient but soon glad, for he liked her bared ears and the nice circlets that swung from their lobes. He liked the way she looked now, too, across the small table from him.

  As for Mignureal, she would have preferred to have his seat on a bench against the wall, rather than her chair. She did not know that Shadowspawn was practically incapable of sitting with his back to a room, and would have been both uncomfortable and unhappy in her seat.

  Chondey’s food may not have been wonderful, but it seemed so. Her beautiful tan bread, studded with tiny bits of nuts and dates, was definitely wonderful. Hanse ordered ale with his baked chicken and was surprised to discover that it was no better than beer. He had always heard otherwise and besides it sounded better. Mignureal would not try it, but agreed to drink Khulna’s weakest wine with her meal. They would ask around about Firaqa’s water tomorrow.

  He told her of his other plans.

  He would buy two purses from one vendor and two others from another. Why? Oh, just caution; any seller would wonder why a person would buy four purses at a time.

  “Caution,” Mignureal said, and nodded, and she sighed. They would carry most of their wealth inside their clothing, Hanse went on, but wear outer purses in the normal way, with a piece of silver and a few local coppers. In the event they fell prey to cutpurse or ripsnatcher, they at least would not lose much. He would also inquire around about the value of various metals and monies here, and try to learn if an honest banker or moneychanger was to be found in Firaqa. He would do a far better job of learning the value of their horses by going to two or three dealers, pretending to be a prospective buyer. He’d also inquire about Anorislas.

  “Why not ask Khulna, Hanse? If he doesn’t know him, he could ask the others here. This is no huge city, after all.” Hanse only looked steadily at her without expression. “Oh,” she said. “Caution.”

  “Right. Mignue, I am wary and cautious. Besides, Strick said to ask discreetly. He must have had a reason. Suppose Anorislas is what is known as an unsavoury character? You know, like that fellow Shadowspawn we heard of back home. Khulna would wonder why I am interested in contacting such a fellow. And Khulna is a friend of Gaise. Gaise is with the City Watch. That’s police — a grabber. Both of them know too much already, because I was tired and not cautious enough.”

  “I suppose I never am,” she said with a sigh.

  Hanse looked at her very seriously. “No, Mignue, you aren’t. That makes me worry about you.”

  “I promise to try to be more mistrustful of others.” Abruptly she leaned toward him across the small table. “Hist! Look at Chiri. D’you think she might be a Stare-eye in disguise, come up from Sanctuary to Get You?”

  Hanse rolled his eyes. “Ah,” he said dramatically, “I am doubly accursed! A dumb-ass onager and a smart-ass woman!” Mignureal laughed. “Well, I really will try. You could probably stand to be less mistrustful, too. I think I’ll call you Caution. It can be your — what do they call it? Your war-name. What horses do we intend to sell?”

  “Once I get a fair idea of their worth, why not let prospective buyers decide? The one someone chooses first will be the first we sell, and so on. When we are down to two, those will be our horses. As to Enas — him w
e don’t need, but he could be valuable in some close trading. A throw-in, as in ‘All right, give me a million coppers for Blackie and I’ll throw in that handsome intelligent onager who once saved my life.”‘ She smiled but went immediately serious. Her hand touched his. “I have a special request. Let’s keep Inja. I like him, and he has a name. Besides, he was a gift from Tempus and that’s special. Let’s let him be my horse.”

  The trouble with that, Hanse reflected, was that Tempus and his band knew horses and had no bad ones, although of course Tempus hadn’t given him a Trds. Too, that horseless Tejanit had chosen Inja over Blackie. Inja might well be their most valuable animal! Too valuable not to sell? But. No use getting into a discussion or argument about it now, when all was speculation. Besides, the animal had been a gift. Perhaps they should keep him because he was a better than good steed. Hanse nodded without comment.

  “I love you, Hanse. You’re a good lover, too!”

  “With you,” he said gallantly even while his chest swelled, and he hid behind his mug.

  Chiri wandered along with her pitcher and tried to fill it, but he assured her that he had enough. Chiri switched plumply away to refill the mug of a man who’d had enough but didn’t think so.

  “I want to find out about other S’danzo here, too,” Mignureal said.

  He nodded without saying anything. He was not enamoured of the idea of her setting up a table and sign to read futures, but had decided that he had better just shut up on that matter. At last he said, “We can do that, too.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say ‘we,’ darling. About the purses and the horses and all you kept saying you would do that, but I want it to be we. After all, there’s nothing for me to do if I just wait here for you — ‘Caution’ — unless I try to help Chiri and her mother clean up, or help in the kitchen.”

  Hanse looked at her with his teeth in a comer of his lower lip. Hanse the loner had not considered going about with her. It just hadn’t occurred to him. He operated better alone. At least, he always had, because that was what he knew before Cudget, and after Cudget’s execution. This business of teaming, of pairing off and taking responsibility for two, was a lot more than he had thought about. She was right about just staying here, too; she’d have nothing to do. And he did not want her going about a strange city without him, seeking S’danzo or any other thing.