Krondor: The Assassins. Raymond E. FeistЧитать онлайн книгу.
about just going out the door, up there?’ He pointed to the ceiling.
Graves said, ‘Sealed off. That’s why I built this place as a hideout. The building upstairs is abandoned, roof beams collapsed. The man who owned it died, so it belongs to the Prince for back taxes. Fixing up old buildings is not very high on the Prince’s list of things to do, it seems.’
Limm nodded in approval of the scheme. ‘Well, how long do you think we should stay?’
‘You,’ said Graves, rising, ‘are staying in the Kingdom. You’re young enough to make something of yourself, boy. Get off the dodgy path and find a master. Apprentice in a craft or become a serving man.’
‘Honest work?’ said Limm, as he jumped to his feet. ‘When did a Mocker seek honest work?’
Graves pointed a finger at him. ‘Jimmy did.’
‘Jimmy the Hand,’ agreed Kat. ‘He found honest work.’
‘He saved the Prince’s life!’ objected Limm. ‘He was made a member of the court. And there’s a death mark on his head! He couldn’t return to the Mockers if he begged.’
Graves said, ‘If the Upright Man is dead, that mark is erased.’
Softly Limm asked, ‘What should I do?’
Graves said, ‘Lie low for a while, until things get quiet, then leave the city. There’s a man named Tuscobar, once a trader from Rodez. He has a shop in a town called Biscart, two days’ fast walk up the coast. He owes me a favour. He also has no sons, so there is no one to apprentice for him. Go there and ask him to take you to service. If he objects, just tell him “Graves clears all debts if you do this.” He’ll understand what it means.’
‘What does he do?’ asked Limm.
‘He sells cloth. He makes a good living, as he sells to nobles for their daughters.’
Limm’s expression showed he was less than taken with the notion. ‘I’d rather go to Durbin and take my chances with you. What are you going to do there?’
‘Turn honest,’ said Graves. ‘I have some gold. Kat and I are going to open an inn.’
‘An inn,’ said Limm, his eyes alight. ‘I like inns.’ He got down on his knees in an overly dramatic pleading. ‘Let me come! Please! I can do many things in an inn. I can tend fires, and show customers to their rooms. I can haul water and I can mark the best purses for cutting.’
‘An honest inn,’ said Graves.
Some of the enthusiasm left Limm’s expression. ‘In Durbin? Well, if you say so.’
Kat said, ‘We’re going to have a baby. We want him to grow up honest.’
Limm was speechless. He sat in wide-eyed astonishment. Finally, he said, ‘A baby? Are you daft?’
Graves exhibited a wry smile and Kat’s brown eyes narrowed as she said, ‘What’s daft about a baby?’
Limm said, ‘Nothing, I guess, if you’re a farmer or a baker or someone who can expect a fair chance at living to old age. But for a Mocker …’ He let the thought go unfinished.
Graves said, ‘What’s the clock? We’ve been cut off from sunlight so long I have no sense of it.’
‘It’s nearly midnight,’ said Limm. ‘Why?’
‘With the Upright Man dead, or even just the rumour of it, things will be happening. Ships that would otherwise have stayed in Krondor will be leaving the docks before the morning tide.’
Limm fixed Graves with a questioning look. ‘You know something?’
Graves stood up from the small chair and said, ‘I know lots of things, boy.’
Limm jumped to his feet. ‘Please take me with you. You’re the only friends I’ve got, and if the Upright Man’s dead, who knows who’ll come to rule in his place. If it’s that Crawler, most of us are dead anyway, and even if it’s one of our own, who’s to say what my life is worth?’
Graves and Kat understood. The peace within the Mockers was imposed from the top down, and it would never be mistaken for friendship. Old grudges would surface and old scores would be settled. More than one Mocker would die not knowing for which past transgression he was paying the ultimate penalty. Graves sighed in resignation. ‘Very well. Not much for you here, I’ll grant, and another pair of eyes and nimble fingers might prove worthwhile.’ He glanced at Kat, who nodded silently.
‘What’s the plan?’
‘We need to be at the docks before the dawn. There’s a ship there, a Quegan trader, the Stella Maris. The captain is an old business acquaintance of mine. He was lying low, claiming a refit was needed, against the time when we could smuggle ourselves out of here. He’ll sail for Durbin as soon as we board.’
Kat said, ‘Lots of ships will be leaving on the morning tide, so another won’t cause too much notice.’
Limm look excited. ‘When do we head to the docks?’
‘An hour before dawn. It’ll still be dark enough for us to stay in shadows, but enough of the town will be awake and about so we won’t attract much attention.’
Kat smiled. ‘We’ll be a family.’
Limm’s narrow young face took on a sour expression. ‘Mother?’
Kat was barely ten years older than Limm, so she said, ‘Big sister.’
Limm said, ‘We have one problem, though.’
Graves nodded. ‘Getting to the street.’
Limm sat back, for he knew that there could be no plan, ruse, or providential miracle that would get them safely to the docks. They would simply have to leave this hideout and risk a short walk through a dark tunnel which might house a dozen murderers or sewer rats. And they wouldn’t know which until they left. Limm was suddenly tired and said, ‘I think I’ll sleep for a bit.’
‘Good idea,’ agreed Graves. ‘There’s a pallet over there you can use. We’ll wake you when it’s time to go.’
Limm moved to the indicated corner and lay down. Kat whispered, ‘What are the odds?’
‘Bad,’ admitted her lover. ‘We’ve got to get the boy some clothing. Dirty boys are nothing unusual at the dock. But not that dirty.’ Trying to muster some optimism, he said, ‘Still, if the Upright Man is dead, there may be enough chaos in the city that we can slip out without attracting notice.’
‘Any other choice?’
‘Only one,’ admitted Graves, ‘but I won’t use it unless we’re caught.’
‘What is it?’
Graves looked at the young girl for whom he had thrown away everything and said, ‘I have one friend left, who gains nothing from my fall. If I must, I’ll send Limm to him begging for help.’
‘Who?’ whispered Kat.
Graves closed his eyes as if admitting he might seek help was hard for one as self-reliant as himself. ‘The only thief who can beg the Prince of Krondor for my life.’
‘Jimmy?’
Graves nodded. ‘Jimmy the Hand.’
THE COLUMN RODE TOWARDS THE CITY.
Krondor was backlit by a late afternoon sun, dark towers rising against a lemon-yellow sky. In the east, distant clouds