hill. Tavern to tavern, whorehouse to whorehouse. Maybe hint that there's a
reward floating around.” He ground one fist into another, a man restraining
anger.
There was a lot of that bottled up inside him. Someday he would blow up good.
We'd gotten an early start. I saw more taverns, cathouses, and reeking dives
than I'd passed through in a dozen years. And in every one Bullock's advent
engendered a sudden, frightened hush and a promise of dutiful cooperation.
But promises were all we got. We could find no trace of any old money, except a
few coins that had been around too long to be the booty we sought. Bullock was
not discouraged. “Something will turn up,” he said. “Times are tough. Just take
a little patience.“ He looked thoughtful. ”Might just put some of your boys down
here. They aren't known, and they look tough enough to make it.”
“They are.” I smiled, mentally assembling a team including Elmo, Goblin,
Pawnbroker, Kingpin, and a few others. Be great if Raven were still with the
Company and could go in with them. They would be running the Buskin inside six
months. Which gave me an idea to take up with Whisper. If we wanted to know what
was happening, we should take charge of the Buskin. We could bring in One-Eye.
The little wizard was a gangster born. Stand out some, though. I hadn't seen
another black face since we'd crossed the Sea of Torments.
“Had an idea?” Bullock asked, about to enter a place called the Iron Lily. “You
look like your brain is smoking.”
“Maybe. On something down the line. If it gets tougher than we expect.”
The Iron Lily looked like every other place we'd been, only more so. The guy who
ran it cringed. He didn't know nothing, hadn't heard nothing, and promised to
scream for Bullock if anybody so much as spent a single gersh struck before the
accession of the present Duke. Every word bullshit. I was glad to get out of
there. I was afraid the place would collapse on me before he finished kissing
Bullock's ass. “Got an idea,” Bullock said. “Moneylenders.”
Took me a second to catch it and to see where the idea had come from. The guy in
the tavern, whining about his debts. “Good thinking.” A man in the snares of a
moneylender would do anything to wriggle away. “This is Krage's territory. He's
one of the nastiest. Let's drop in.” No fear in the man. His confidence in the
power of his office was so strong he dared walk into a den of cutthroats without
blinking an eye. I faked it good, but I was scared. The villain had his own
army, and it was jumpy.
We found out why in a moment. Our man had come up on the short end of somebody
in the last couple days. He was down on his back, mummified in bandages. Bullock
chuckled. "Customers getting frisky, Krage? Or did one of your boys try to
promote himself?“ Krage eyed us from a face of stone. ”I help you with
something, Inquisitor?“ ”Probably not. You'd lie to me if the truth would save
your soul, you bloodsucker.“ ”Flattery will get you nowhere. What do you want,
you parasite?"
Tough boy, this Krage. Struck from the same mold as Bullock, but he had drifted
into a socially less honored profession. Not much to choose between them, I
thought. Priest and moneylender. And that was what Krage was saying. "Cute. I'm
looking for a guy.“ ”No shit.“ ”He's got a lot of old money. Cajian period
coinage.“ ”Am I supposed to know him?“ Bullock shrugged. ”Maybe he owes
somebody.“ ”Money's got no provenance down here, Bullock.“ Bullock told me: ”A
proverb of the Buskin.“ He faced Krage. ”This money does. This money better,
let's say. This is a big one, Krage. Not a little
let's-look-around-and-make-a-show. Not some bump-and-run. We're going the route.
Anybody covers on it, they go down with this boy. You remember Bullock said it."
For a second Bullock made an impression. The message got through. Then Krage
reward floating around.” He ground one fist into another, a man restraining
anger.
There was a lot of that bottled up inside him. Someday he would blow up good.
We'd gotten an early start. I saw more taverns, cathouses, and reeking dives
than I'd passed through in a dozen years. And in every one Bullock's advent
engendered a sudden, frightened hush and a promise of dutiful cooperation.
But promises were all we got. We could find no trace of any old money, except a
few coins that had been around too long to be the booty we sought. Bullock was
not discouraged. “Something will turn up,” he said. “Times are tough. Just take
a little patience.“ He looked thoughtful. ”Might just put some of your boys down
here. They aren't known, and they look tough enough to make it.”
“They are.” I smiled, mentally assembling a team including Elmo, Goblin,
Pawnbroker, Kingpin, and a few others. Be great if Raven were still with the
Company and could go in with them. They would be running the Buskin inside six
months. Which gave me an idea to take up with Whisper. If we wanted to know what
was happening, we should take charge of the Buskin. We could bring in One-Eye.
The little wizard was a gangster born. Stand out some, though. I hadn't seen
another black face since we'd crossed the Sea of Torments.
“Had an idea?” Bullock asked, about to enter a place called the Iron Lily. “You
look like your brain is smoking.”
“Maybe. On something down the line. If it gets tougher than we expect.”
The Iron Lily looked like every other place we'd been, only more so. The guy who
ran it cringed. He didn't know nothing, hadn't heard nothing, and promised to
scream for Bullock if anybody so much as spent a single gersh struck before the
accession of the present Duke. Every word bullshit. I was glad to get out of
there. I was afraid the place would collapse on me before he finished kissing
Bullock's ass. “Got an idea,” Bullock said. “Moneylenders.”
Took me a second to catch it and to see where the idea had come from. The guy in
the tavern, whining about his debts. “Good thinking.” A man in the snares of a
moneylender would do anything to wriggle away. “This is Krage's territory. He's
one of the nastiest. Let's drop in.” No fear in the man. His confidence in the
power of his office was so strong he dared walk into a den of cutthroats without
blinking an eye. I faked it good, but I was scared. The villain had his own
army, and it was jumpy.
We found out why in a moment. Our man had come up on the short end of somebody
in the last couple days. He was down on his back, mummified in bandages. Bullock
chuckled. "Customers getting frisky, Krage? Or did one of your boys try to
promote himself?“ Krage eyed us from a face of stone. ”I help you with
something, Inquisitor?“ ”Probably not. You'd lie to me if the truth would save
your soul, you bloodsucker.“ ”Flattery will get you nowhere. What do you want,
you parasite?"
Tough boy, this Krage. Struck from the same mold as Bullock, but he had drifted
into a socially less honored profession. Not much to choose between them, I
thought. Priest and moneylender. And that was what Krage was saying. "Cute. I'm
looking for a guy.“ ”No shit.“ ”He's got a lot of old money. Cajian period
coinage.“ ”Am I supposed to know him?“ Bullock shrugged. ”Maybe he owes
somebody.“ ”Money's got no provenance down here, Bullock.“ Bullock told me: ”A
proverb of the Buskin.“ He faced Krage. ”This money does. This money better,
let's say. This is a big one, Krage. Not a little
let's-look-around-and-make-a-show. Not some bump-and-run. We're going the route.
Anybody covers on it, they go down with this boy. You remember Bullock said it."
For a second Bullock made an impression. The message got through. Then Krage
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