were talking about him.
Turning so it looked like he was talking to Mallin, Nahlik asked, "You know what
ship you're taking?"
"Vivia Infanti."
"We'll get your stuff aboard. Mallin, take hold of the drunk. We'll walk him out
like he's our friend."
They barely got the drunk off his stool before a boy materialized, armed with a
filthy rag and a bowl of dirty water. He made a dispirited effort to clean up
the vomit.
"Do a good job I'll give you a copper for your own," Else whispered.
The boy discovered reserves of enthusiasm. Else slipped him a coin. "I need more
coffee. No! I don't want your sister, your mother, or you. I just want more
coffee."
A newcomer started to settle opposite Else. The big man who had been talking
to the skinny one pushed him aside. "Go away," he said. He took the stool
himself.
Else studied his coffee and waited for another cup to arrive. He felt the big
man staring at him.
He appeared to be alone. His behavior had attracted no attention despite its
rude and provocative nature.
Else said, "That was inexcusably rude."
It was clear the big man meant to become violent. Else trumped him.
The man started to speak but gasped in surprise instead.
"Don't pick a fight with a man who has one hand under the table. If you take a
breath I don't like I'll ruin your knee. If you move at all I'll ruin your
kneecap. Nod if you understand."
The man nodded. He showed no fear, just pain and confusion. He was not
accustomed to being on the downhill end of the pain/terror equation.
Else's fresh coffee arrived. He paid using one hand. Then he told his new
friend, "You were going to explain what you're doing. And why. You were going to
do that because you don't want to live the rest of your life with only one good
leg."
The big man was careful not to move.
"Speak to me," Else said. He pushed the long dagger's razor-sharp tip a quarter
inch deeper into the space beneath the man's right kneecap. Nothing. "There'll
be no help. Your longhaired friend left." Still nothing. "If you have the brains
God gave a toad ..." The Sha-lug had a saying, You can't fix stupid, said of
crusader captains who fell for a trick more than once. This looked like it might
be a major case of stupid. "You're bothering me for a reason. I want to know
what it is." He probed a little deeper with the dagger.
Else saw the moment when the shock cleared enough for realization to strike
home. The moment when understanding arrived.
The big man ground his teeth. "There is nothing I can tell you." He spoke
mechanically. "I was told to find Carpio. He would point you out. I would kill
you in a brawl that Carpio would swear you started."
"But Carpio took off right after he talked to you. Where do
you suppose he went? Who told you to kill the man he marked?"
"Starkden. The order came from Starkden."
"Is that a man's name?"
"Starkden is a woman. They say."
Volunteered information. A good sign. A watershed in this relationship. "Be that
as it may, Starkden sent you. Why?"
"Because she wanted you dead, I guess."
"Why?"
Shrug.
"Tell me about this woman. Including where I can find her."
The big man knew nothing. He'd never met Starkden. He'd heard that she was an
older woman, in her forties or even her fifties. If you did what she said she
paid well. She supposedly had no political or religious axes to grind. Not that
he cared about that stuff himself.
Else questioned the man for another ten minutes and learned nothing more. "All
right, Ben." The big fellow's name was Be-natar Piola. "I want you to sit right
there till your knee stops hurting. If you put any strain on it right away it'll
fold up, you'll wreck the joint, and they'll probably have to cut off your leg."
You could not fix stupid but you could use it.
Else called for wine for Ben, paid and left.
Once back at the factor house he told his story to anyone who would listen. He
thought a legitimate traveler would do that. And he hoped somebody would
Turning so it looked like he was talking to Mallin, Nahlik asked, "You know what
ship you're taking?"
"Vivia Infanti."
"We'll get your stuff aboard. Mallin, take hold of the drunk. We'll walk him out
like he's our friend."
They barely got the drunk off his stool before a boy materialized, armed with a
filthy rag and a bowl of dirty water. He made a dispirited effort to clean up
the vomit.
"Do a good job I'll give you a copper for your own," Else whispered.
The boy discovered reserves of enthusiasm. Else slipped him a coin. "I need more
coffee. No! I don't want your sister, your mother, or you. I just want more
coffee."
A newcomer started to settle opposite Else. The big man who had been talking
to the skinny one pushed him aside. "Go away," he said. He took the stool
himself.
Else studied his coffee and waited for another cup to arrive. He felt the big
man staring at him.
He appeared to be alone. His behavior had attracted no attention despite its
rude and provocative nature.
Else said, "That was inexcusably rude."
It was clear the big man meant to become violent. Else trumped him.
The man started to speak but gasped in surprise instead.
"Don't pick a fight with a man who has one hand under the table. If you take a
breath I don't like I'll ruin your knee. If you move at all I'll ruin your
kneecap. Nod if you understand."
The man nodded. He showed no fear, just pain and confusion. He was not
accustomed to being on the downhill end of the pain/terror equation.
Else's fresh coffee arrived. He paid using one hand. Then he told his new
friend, "You were going to explain what you're doing. And why. You were going to
do that because you don't want to live the rest of your life with only one good
leg."
The big man was careful not to move.
"Speak to me," Else said. He pushed the long dagger's razor-sharp tip a quarter
inch deeper into the space beneath the man's right kneecap. Nothing. "There'll
be no help. Your longhaired friend left." Still nothing. "If you have the brains
God gave a toad ..." The Sha-lug had a saying, You can't fix stupid, said of
crusader captains who fell for a trick more than once. This looked like it might
be a major case of stupid. "You're bothering me for a reason. I want to know
what it is." He probed a little deeper with the dagger.
Else saw the moment when the shock cleared enough for realization to strike
home. The moment when understanding arrived.
The big man ground his teeth. "There is nothing I can tell you." He spoke
mechanically. "I was told to find Carpio. He would point you out. I would kill
you in a brawl that Carpio would swear you started."
"But Carpio took off right after he talked to you. Where do
you suppose he went? Who told you to kill the man he marked?"
"Starkden. The order came from Starkden."
"Is that a man's name?"
"Starkden is a woman. They say."
Volunteered information. A good sign. A watershed in this relationship. "Be that
as it may, Starkden sent you. Why?"
"Because she wanted you dead, I guess."
"Why?"
Shrug.
"Tell me about this woman. Including where I can find her."
The big man knew nothing. He'd never met Starkden. He'd heard that she was an
older woman, in her forties or even her fifties. If you did what she said she
paid well. She supposedly had no political or religious axes to grind. Not that
he cared about that stuff himself.
Else questioned the man for another ten minutes and learned nothing more. "All
right, Ben." The big fellow's name was Be-natar Piola. "I want you to sit right
there till your knee stops hurting. If you put any strain on it right away it'll
fold up, you'll wreck the joint, and they'll probably have to cut off your leg."
You could not fix stupid but you could use it.
Else called for wine for Ben, paid and left.
Once back at the factor house he told his story to anyone who would listen. He
thought a legitimate traveler would do that. And he hoped somebody would
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