by Glen Cook
“Mr. Shed?” Lisa said from the doorway next morning, as he was contemplating another day of ceiling study and self-pity. “Mr. Shed?”
“Yeah?”
“Bo and Lana are here.”
Bo and Lana, with a daughter, were his mother’s servants. “What do they want?”
“Their accounts settled for the month, I expect.”
“Oh.” He got up.
Lisa stopped him at the head of the stair. “I was right about Sue, wasn’t I?”
“You were.”
“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have said anything if we could have afforded it.”
“We? What do you mean, we? Oh, hell. Never mind. Forget about it. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.”
“Whatever you say. But I’m going to hold you to your promise.”
“What promise?”
“To let me manage the Lily.”
“Oh. All right.” At that moment he did not care. He collected the monthly accounting from the servants. He had chosen them well. They were not cheating him. He suggested they deserved a small bonus.
He returned upstairs for the money. Lisa watched him go, perplexed. He realized his mistake too late. Now she wondered why he had money today when he’d had none yesterday. He located his dirty clothing, emptied his pockets onto his bed. And gasped.
“Oh, damn! Damn,” he muttered. “What the hell am I going to do with three gold pieces?”
There was silver, too, and even a fistful of copper, but. … It was a gyp! A fortune he could not spend. Juniper law made it illegal for commoners to hold minted gold. Even incoming foreigners had to exchange theirs for silver—though foreign silver was as welcome as local. Lucky, too, for the black castle mintage was a decidedly odd coinage, though in the standard weights.
How could he get rid of the gold? Sell it to some ship captain headed south? That was the usual procedure. He slipped it into his most secret hiding place, with the amulet from the black castle. A useless fortune. He assessed the remainder. Twenty-eight pieces of silver, plus several leva in copper. Enough to take care of his mother and Sal. Way short of enough to pry Gilbert off his back. “Still be in the damned money trap,” he whined.
He recalled Sue’s jewelry, smiled nastily, muttered, “I’ll do it.” He pocketed everything, returned to the ground floor, paid his mother’s servants, told Lisa, “I’m going out for a while.”
First he made sure Wally’s family was cared for, then ambled down toward Gilbert’s place. No one seemed to be around. Gilbert was not like Krage, in that he felt he needed an army on hand, but he did have his bone-breakers. They were all away. But someone was in Gilbert’s office because lamplight illuminated the curtains. He smiled thoughtfully, then hustled back to the Lily.
He went to a table back in the shadows, near where Raven used to sit. A couple of foreign sailors were seated there. Tough merchandise if he’d ever seen it. They’d been around for some time. They said they and their friends, who came and went, had missed their ship. They were waiting for another. Shed could not recall having heard the name of their home port.
“You men like to pick up some easy money?” he asked.
“Who doesn’t?” one responded.
And the other, “What you got in mind?”
“I have a little problem. I’ve got to do some business with a man. He’s liable to get vicious.”
“Want some back-up, eh?”
Shed nodded.
The other sailor looked at him narrowly. “Who is he?”
“Name’s Gilbert. A moneylender. You heard of him?”
“Yeah.”
“I was just past his place. Don’t look like there’s anybody there but him.”
The men exchanged glances. The taller said, “Tell you what. Let me go get a friend of ours.”
“I can’t afford a whole army.”
“Hey, no problem. You two work out what you’d pay two of us; he’ll come along free. Just feel more comfortable having him with us.”
“Tough?”
Both men grinned. One winked at the other. “Yeah. Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Then get him.”
One man left. Shed dickered with the other. Lisa watched from across the room, eyes narrow and hard. Shed decided she was getting too much into his business too fast.
The third man was a frog-faced character barely five feet tall. Shed frowned at him. His fetcher reminded, “He’s tough. Remember?”
“Yeah? All right. Let’s go.” He felt a hundred percent better with three men accompanying him, though he had no real assurance they would help if Gilbert started something.
There were a couple of thugs in the front room when Shed arrived. He told them: “I want to see Gilbert.”
“Suppose he don’t want to see you?” It was standard tough-guy game-playing. Shed did not know how to respond. One of his companions saved him the worry.
“He don’t got much choice, does he? Unless that fat’s all muscle in disguise.” He produced a knife, began cleaning his nails. The deed was so reminiscent of Raven that Shed was startled.
“He’s back in the office.” The fat thug exchanged a look with his companion. Shed figured one would run for help.
He started moving. His frog-faced companion said, “I’ll just stay out here.”
Shed pushed into Gilbert’s office. The moneylender had a sack of leva on his desk, was weighing coins one at a time on a fine scale, sorting out those that had been clipped. He looked up angrily. “What the hell is this?”
“Couple of friends wanted to stop by with me and watch how you do business.”
“I don’t like what this says about our relationship, Shed. It says you don’t trust me.”
Shed shrugged. “There’s some nasty rumors out there. About you and Sue working on me. To do me out of the Lily.”
“Sue, eh? Where is she, Shed?”
“There is a connection, eh?” Shed let his face fall. “Damn you. That’s why she turned me down. You villain. Now she won’t even see me. That ape at the door keeps telling me she isn’t there. You arrange that, Mister Gilbert? You know, I don’t like you much.”
Gilbert gave the lot of them a nasty one-eyed stare. For a moment he seemed to consider his chances. Then the small man ambled in, leaned against the wall, his wide mouth wrinkled into a sneer.
Gilbert said, “You come to talk or to do business? If it’s business, get at it. I want these creeps out of here. They’ll give the neighborhood a bad name.”
Shed produced a leather bag. “You have the bad name, Gilbert. I hear people saying they won’t do business with you anymore. They don’t think it’s right you should try to screw people out of their property.”
“Shut up and give me some money, Shed. You just want to whine, get out.”
“Sure talks tough for being down four to one,” one of the men remarked. A companion admonished him in another language. Gilbert glared in a way that said he was memorizing faces. The little man grinned and beckoned with one finger. Gilbert decided it could wait.
Shed counted coins. Gilbert’s eyes widened as the stack grew. Shed said, “Told you I was working on a deal.” He tossed in Sue’s jewelry.
One of his companions picked up a bracelet, examined it. “How much do you owe this character?”
Gilbert snapped a figure, which Shed suspected to be inflated.
The sailor observed, “You’re shorting yourself, Shed.”
“I just want quit of this jackal’s lien on my place.”
Gilbert stared at the jewelry, pallid, stiff. He licked his lips and reached for a ring. His hand shook.
Shed was both fearful and filled with malicious glee. Gilbert knew the ring. Now maybe he would be a little nervous about messing with Marron Shed. Or he might decide to cut a few throats. Gilbert had some of the same ego problems Krage had had.
“This should more than cover everything, Mr. Gilbert. The big, too. Even with the extra points. Let’s have my lien back.”
<
br /> Dully, Gilbert retrieved that from a box on a nearby shelf. His eyes never left the ring.
Shed destroyed the lien immediately. “Don’t I still owe you a little something, though, Mr. Gilbert? Yes, I think so. Well, I’ll do my best to see you get everything you’ve got coming.”
Gilbert squinted angrily. Shed thought he saw a hint of fear, too. That pleased him. Nobody was ever afraid of Marron Shed, except maybe Asa, who did not count.
Best make his exit, before he stretched his luck. “Thank you, Mr. Gilbert. See you again soon.”
Passing through the outer room, he was astonished to find Gilbert’s men snoring. The frog-faced man grinned. Outside, Shed paid his guardians. “He wasn’t as much trouble as I expected.”
“You had us with you,” the little man said. “Let’s go to your place and have a beer.”
One of the others observed, “He looked like he was in shock.”
The little man asked, “How’d you ever get that far into a moneylender, any-way?
“A skirt. I thought I was going to marry her. She was just taking me for my money. I finally woke up.”
His companions shook their heads. One said, “Women. Got to watch them, buddy. They’ll pick your bones.”
“I learned my lesson. Hey. Drinks on the house. I’ve got some wine I used to keep for a special customer. He left town, so I’m stuck with it.”
“That bad, eh?”
“No. That good. Nobody can afford it.”
Shed spent his entire evening sipping wine, even after the sailors decided they had business elsewhere. He broke into a grin each time he recalled Gilbert’s reaction to the ring. “Got to be careful now,” he muttered. “He’s as crazy as Krage.”
In time the good feeling departed. Fear took over. He’d face anything Gilbert did alone, and he was still very much the same old Shed under the patina left by Raven and a few deals since.
“Ought to haul the bastard up the hill,” he muttered into his mug. Then: “Damn! I’m as bad as Raven. Worse. Raven never delivered them alive. Wonder what that bastard is doing now, with his fancy ship and slick young slot?”
He got himself very, very drunk and very, very filled with self-pity.
The last guest went to his bunk. The last outsider went home. Shed sat there nursing his wine and glowering at Lisa, angry with her for no reason he could define. Her body, he thought. Ripe. But she wouldn’t. Too good for him. And her pushiness lately. Yeah.
She studied him as she cleaned up. Efficient little witch. Better even than Darling, who had worked hard but hadn’t the economy of movement Lisa had. Maybe she did deserve to manage the place. He hadn’t done such a great job.
He found her seated opposite him. He glowered. She did not retreat. A hard lass, too. Wouldn’t bluff. Didn’t scare. Tough Buskin bitch. Be trouble someday.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Shed?”
“Nothing.”
“I hear you paid Gilbert off. On a loan you took on this place. How could you take a loan on the Lily? It’s been in your family for ages.”
“Don’t give me that sentimental crap. You don’t believe it.”
“Where did you get the money?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so nosy. Maybe nosiness could be bad for your health.” He was talking surly and tough but not meaning what he said.
“You’ve been acting strange lately.”
“I was in love.”
“That wasn’t it. What happened to that, anyway? I hear Sue disappeared. Gilbert says you did her in.”
“Did what? I was over to her place today.”
“You see her?”
“No. The door guard said she wasn’t home. Which means she didn’t want to see me. Probably had somebody else up there.”
“Maybe it meant she wasn’t home.”
Shed snorted. “I told you I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Understand?”
“Sure. Tell me where you got the money.”
Shed glared. “Why?”
“Because if there’s more, I want a chunk. I don’t want to spend my life in the Buskin. I’ll do whatever it takes to get out.”
Shed smirked.
She misunderstood. “This job is just to keep body and soul together till I find something.”
“A million people have thought that, Lisa. And they’ve frozen to death in Buskin alleys.”
“Some make it. I don’t intend to fail. Where did you get the money, Mr. Shed?” She went for a bottle of the good wine. Vaguely, Shed thought it must be about gone.
He told her about his silent partner.
“That’s a crock. I’ve been here long enough to know that.”
“Better believe it, girl.” He giggled. “You keep pushing and you’re liable to meet him. You won’t like him, I guarantee.” He recalled the tall creature telling him to hurry back.
“What happened to Sue?”
Shed tried to rise. His limbs were limp. He fell back into his seat. “I’m drunk. Drunker than I thought. Getting out of shape.” Lisa nodded gravely. “I loved her. I really loved her. She shouldn’t ought to have done that. I would have treated her like a queen. Would have gone into hell for her. Almost did.” He chuckled. “Went in with her. … Oops.”
“Would you do that for me, Mr. Shed?”
“What?”
“You’re always trying to get me. What’s it worth?”
Shed leered. “Don’t know. Can’t tell till I’ve tried you.”
“You don’t have anything to give me, old man.”
“Know where to get it, though.”
“Where?”
Shed just sat there grinning, a bit of drool trailing from one corner of his mouth.
“I give up. You win. Come on. I’ll help you get up the stairs before I go home.”
The climb was an epic. Shed was one drink short of passing out. When they reached his room, he just toppled into bed. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “What’re you doing?”
“You have to get undressed.”
“Guess so.” He made no effort to help. “What’re you doing now? Why’re you grabbing me like that?”
“You want me, don’t you?” A moment later she was in the bed with him, rubbing her nakedness against his. He was too drunk to make anything of the situation. He held her, and became maudlin, spouting his trials. She played to it.
Juniper: Payoff
Shed sat up so suddenly his head twisted around. Somebody started beating drums inside. He rolled to the edge of the bed and was noisily sick. And then became sick in another way. With terror.
“I told her. I told her the whole damned thing.” He tried to jump up. He had to get out of Juniper before the Inquisitors came. He had gold. A foreign captain might take him south. He could catch up with Raven and Asa He settled onto the cot, too miserable to act. “I’m dying,” he muttered. “If there’s a hell, this is what it’s going to be like.”
Had he told her? He thought so. And for nothing. He had gotten nothing. “Marron Shed, you were born to lose. When will you ever learn?”
He rose once more, cautiously, and fumbled through his hiding place. The gold was there. Maybe he hadn’t told her everything. He considered the amulet. Lisa could follow the trail blazed by Sue. If she hadn’t told anybody yet. But she would be wary, wouldn’t she? Be hard to catch her off guard. Even assuming he could find her.
“My head! Gods! I can’t think.” There was a sudden racket downstairs. “Damn,” he muttered. “She left the place unlocked. They’ll steal everything.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. Such an end he had come to. Maybe that was Bullock and his thugs knocking around down there.
Best to meet his fate. Cursing, he eased into his clothing, began the long journey downstairs.
“Good morning, Mr. Shed,” Lisa called brightly. “What will you have for breakfast?”
He stared, gulped, finally stumbled to a table, sat there with his head in his hands, ignoring the amused stare of one of his companions of the Gilbert advent
ure.
“A little hung over, Mr. Shed?” Lisa asked.
“Yes.” His own voice sounded thunderous.
“I’ll mix you something my father taught me to make. He’s a master drunkard, you know.”
Shed nodded weakly. Even that proved painful. Lisa’s father was one reason he had hired her. She needed all the help she could get. Another of his charities gone sour.
She returned with something so foul even a sorcerer would not have touched it. “Drink fast. It goes down easier that way.”
“I can imagine.” Half praying it would poison him, he gulped the malodorous concoction. After gasping for breath, he murmured, “When are they coming? How long do I have?”
“Who, Mr. Shed?”
“The Inquisitors. The law. Whoever you called.”
“Why would they come here?”
Painfully, he raised his gaze to meet hers.
She whispered, “I told you I’ll do anything to get out of the Buskin. This is the chance I’ve been looking for. We’re partners now, Mr. Shed. Fifty-fifty.”
Shed buried his head in his hands and groaned. It would never end. Not till it devoured him. He cast curses on Raven and all his house.
The common room was empty. The door was closed. “First we have to take care of Gilbert,” Lisa said.
Shed bobbed his head, refused to look up.
“That was stupid, giving him jewelry he would recognize. He’ll kill you if we don’t kill him first.”
Again Shed bobbed his head. Why me? he whined to himself. What have I done to deserve this?
“And don’t you think you can get rid of me the way you did Sue and that blackmailer. My father has a letter he’ll take to Bullock if I disappear.”
“You’re too smart for your own good.” And: “It won’t be long till winter.”
“Yes. But we won’t do it Raven’s way. Too risky and too much work. We’ll get charitable. Let all the derelicts in. One or two can disappear every night.”
“You’re talking murder!”
“Who’ll care? Nobody. They’ll be better off themselves. Call it mercy.”