City of Rogues: Book I of the Kobalos Trilogy Page 22

Kron nodded. He need not say more. The less Wyck knew, the safer he would be.

  “Damn.” The boy grinned. “Did you have me fooled.”

  “No cursing.”

  The lad smirked. “You’ve got to be kidding, especially after the stunts you’ve pulled since coming to town. But you being Darkbow explains why you let me into Belgad’s the night of the party.”

  “I apologize for using you. I needed a distraction.”

  “You’ve paid me good coin and treated me well, so I have no complaints. But how would you have gotten into Belgad’s if I hadn’t come along?”

  “I would have found some other way into the party. There were plenty of distractions that night with the crowd.”

  “Well, I’ve no reason to distrust you, but I think you’re crazy for taking on Belgad.”

  “I have my reasons for my hatred, but you are right. I might be insane.” Kron’s grin returned. “Why do you think I worked at the Asylum?”

  “Yeah, that would prove you’re crazy,” Wyck said, himself smiling and happy to see a sign of cheer on his friend’s face. “But, what do I call you? Are you Lucius or Kron?”

  “Kron.” The man’s smile slid away. “Lucius Tallerus is dead. I am Kron Darkbow. There is no need for deception. Belgad knows who I am, if he can guess I’m alive.”

  Wyck nodded. “He’s smart, so I’ll have to be extra careful breaking into your room.”

  “I’ve a sack of silvers and coppers stuffed into my pillow, and beneath my bed is another purse with a couple of gold. There’s also a bundle I want you to bring. It’s under the bed as well, and wrapped in a black cloak, but be careful with it. My sword and other weapons are under the bed, but leave them. They will be too much for you to carry.”

  “What’s in the bundle?” Wyck’s natural curiosity was getting the best of him.

  “Items difficult to replace.”

  “Like what? If I’m going fetch the stuff, I want to know what it is.”

  Kron did not look happy to answer, but realized he needed to instill in the lad a respect for what he would be carrying. “Grenados, for one.”

  Wyck’s mouth puckered. “Where in the world did you get those?”

  “I made them from powders I purchased when I came to town.”

  “How did you learn to make grenados?” Wyck’s eyes were large. “I thought they were illegal.”

  “You ask too many questions.”

  The boy smirked. “Considering who you’ve turned out to be, I think I would have plenty of questions.”

  “I learned it from an old man I knew near the Prisonlands,” Kron explained. “Anything else you want to know?”

  “What else is in the bundle?”

  “Some minor weapons that would be difficult to replace, and a few clothes. I’m going to need something to wear.”

  “You’re not going to have enough coin for food and a healer.”

  “It will be a start.”

  “What about that silver mug you bought from me?” Wyck smiled. “Do you still have it?”

  “It’s in the bundle. I didn’t think it prudent to leave it sitting out in my room.”

  “I’ll get the mug, too. You might be able to sell it, but I don’t know who would buy it in town.”

  “I’ll find someone. And Wyck?”

  “Yes, oh mighty Kron Darkbow?” the boy said with a huge grin.

  Kron frowned. He did not care for the honorifics, as fanciful as they may be. It made him sound like some hero, or perhaps a monster.

  “I want you to be careful,” the man said with a stern gaze. “And I mean that, Wyck. If there is someone in the room, I want you to leave. If you feel you are being watched, get out of there, even if it means you have to leave my belongings behind. You getting caught does no one any good.”

  Wyck’s grin would not go away. “Don’t worry about me, Kron Darkbow. You’re the one who looks like he’s been beat up and dumped in a well. I can take care of myself. That’s why you love me, isn’t it?”

  Kron wanted to smile again, but knew it would hurt.

  “Yes, that’s why I love you, Wyck.”

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Adara Corvus did not enjoy being in the employ of Belgad the Liar. To be honest with herself, she did not enjoy working for anyone, but especially Belgad. The man was a tyrant, though he had good business sense. She recognized him as a man used to delivering orders and having them obeyed. Adara had two problems with Belgad. First, he was a man, and Adara did not have any great love for men despite her use of them to further her own ends. Second, Adara was not familiar with following orders; she was used to giving them. She had been born to nobility in East Ursia and despite her five years living in the West, she had never grown accustomed to not being the one giving orders.

  It did not improve her mood that tonight she was stuck eating dinner in the main dining room of the Rusty Scabbard with Spider, a mousy little man in dark and tattered leathers with a small sword at his side. The man was not a rapirist, a true fencer, so Adara had no respect and no use for him.

  The only reasons she continued to work for Belgad were because she felt obligated after Fortisquo had agreed to terms with the hulking northerner and because Fortisquo was still disabled in one of the healing towers. The healer Tendbones had been unable to personally tend to Fortisquo because he had had to use his magical skills for survivors of the Asylum and the floods. Adara understood this, but she was not happy about it. Other healers within the tower had done their best, but Adara recognized none of them were as good as Randall; from what Adara had witnessed, Randall was a more powerful healer than even those employed in the childhood manor run by her mother and father.

  Fortunately for Adara, Fortisquo was expected to wake in another day and would be healed other than the lost eye he had not wanted replaced. She still could not explain to herself why she had blocked the assassin from finishing off Kron Darkbow, so she had no hope of explaining it properly to Fortisquo himself. She only hoped the dueling master would not try to kill her. Adara had no fear of Fortisquo, as she had no fear of any living man, but she was not sure she had learned all from him she wanted. Once Fortisquo had no more fencing knowledge to pass on, she would leave him.

  Watching Spider spoon gray slop into his mouth pulled Adara out of her thoughts.

  The woman dropped her own wooden spoon into the bowl in front of her.

  “What?” Spider said with a spoon of gruel halfway to his mouth.

  Adara ignored the man and glanced around the room, noting there were few others in the tavern area of the inn tonight. That was to be expected with the flood gates to the Swamps still closed. Adara and Spider had been forced to take a rowboat across the river to reach Southtown and the Rusty Scabbard. She nearly had hoped her companion would have fallen into the rushing waters during the crossing.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve offended.” Spider wiped his lips with the sleeve of his dark leather jerkin.

  Adara continued to ignore him.

  “It’s not like I asked to be with you either.”

  The woman’s cold eyes shifted to the little man. “What does that mean?”

  Spider looked glum, but returned to silence

  “Do you have something to say to me?” Adara’s voice pitched higher.

  Spider gulped. “It’s bad weather and we are stuck together. Even if Darkbow was Tallerus, the inn keeper won’t tell us which room. Says he doesn’t want to get involved. And besides, I guess you’re still worried about Fortisquo.”

  Adara’s right hand snapped across her waist to grip the handle of her rapier.

  Spider scooted away from the table as if ready to flee. “No offense. I was just saying it’s a miserable night for both of us.”

  “Look for your miserable night with the barkeep,” the woman said, pointing at the long wooden counter to one side of the room.

  Spider stood, his hands out before him, and backed toward the bar.

  Neither of them noticed the small bo
y who slid through the Scabbard’s front door and slunk upstairs.

  ***

  Using the tools he always kept hidden on himself, Wyck was quickly able to pick the lock on the door. Once inside he was glad to find Lucius’s room as he remembered it. The bed was shoved in the corner to the left directly across from the entrance. A shuttered window was to the right of the bed with a small table beneath it.

  He scurried across the room and yanked the pillow off the bed, diving a fist inside. After a few seconds of rummaging he withdrew a small leather sack that clinked in his hands. Wyck grinned and stuffed the sack inside his shirt.

  The boy then dropped to his knees and looked beneath the bed. He found another small sack, again clinking in his hands, and pocketed the bag that belonged to the man he still thought of as Lucius.

  Wyck’s fingers grazed the large sword and bow, but he left them where they were as he had been told. It was too bad. A big sword like that could bring a good amount of coin. Maybe he would come back for it later.

  The boy’s eyes fell on the black cloak tied into a bundle. This was the main item Lucius wanted. Wyck grabbed the package and pulled it to himself. He was curious to see the grenados and any other weapons Lucius might not have mentioned, but he was smart enough to know he was not in a safe place to let his curiosity get the best of him. Still, he wasn’t sure he would find out more once he got the package back to Lucius. The man held onto his secrets.

  After a few seconds of consideration, Wyck decided to open the black package. After all, he had to make sure the silver mug was still inside.

  Quick fingers pried apart the tight knot holding the parcel together. The bundle unfolded revealing a black shirt, black pants, a small leather sack Wyck figured held the grenados, several small throwing darts, Belgad’s silver mug, a miniature grappling hook with silk cord attached to it and a small, square leather package tied at both ends. Wyck’s curiosity still had the best of him as he pried open the leather package. Inside were multiple tiny tools similar to the ones he had used twice now to unlock the door to Lucius’s room. Wyck could tell right away these tools were of a craftsmanship beyond his experience. Lucius Tallerus was definitely turning out to be a man with secrets.

  Remembering he needed to hurry, Wyck made sure all the items were still wrapped in the cloak as he held its ends together and tied them into another knot. The knot wasn’t quite as good as the one Lucius had tied, but Wyck thought it would do.

  The youngster slung the bundle over his shoulder like a backpack, got to his feet and glanced around the room. There was nothing else he could see that might be needed. He would get out of the building, take his load to Lucius, then try to find oil for a fire and some food. If it had been day, oil would have been easy to purchase, but the night limited Wyck’s options. The boy mused that food would be easy enough to buy as there were a dozen or so places throughout the city that stayed open all night and served foodstuff. Wyck just hoped the small skiff he had used to cross the swollen river would still be tied to a pier where he had left it in the east side of Southtown.

  ***

  As much as Adara generally despised men, and as unhappy as she thought Fortisquo would be with her once he came out of his healer-induced sleep, she was wishing he were sitting and drinking with her in the tavern room of The Rusty Scabbard inn. Spider was a bore. He wasn’t crude or filthy, as the lower classes tended to be, but he had no spark of playfulness about him that could keep Adara entertained during their monotonous wait for nothing. Spider just sat at the bar and sipped a watered-down ale that didn’t taste much better than the mud clogging the streets in the Swamps.

  It wasn’t that Adara had to be constantly entertained. She was just bored and frustrated. She had a feeling her acquaintance with Fortisquo was coming to an end, and despite her lessening need for the sword master, she still enjoyed his company. She was not in love with the man. She had never loved a man other than her father, but Fortisquo was fun. The swordsman always drew a crowd in any tavern and he always had fantastic stories to tell, songs to sing or antics to perform. Adara had not cared to learn the man had been the leader of Bond’s assassins’ guild, but this business with Belgad and Kron Darkbow had kept her distracted from exploring her real feelings. She didn’t need Fortisquo or even want him, but at least he would have been entertainment for the night.

  A heavy clunking sound near the stairs to the apartments above drew her attention.

  Adara’s wine glass was almost to her lips as light from the room’s hearth revealed a young boy with a dark package at his feet. The bundle had been ill tied and the boy was gathering various items that had scattered on the floor.

  Adara sat not far from the boy, and to ease her boredom she rose from her seat and decided to help the lad. She placed her glass on a table and approached him.

  Without looking up at the person casting the shadow over him, the youth continued to grab items from the floor. “Sorry, sir.” He stuffed a small leather bag into the black bundle. “I’ll have this cleaned up quick.”

  “I’m no sir,” Adara said, her eyes noting other items that had spilled. She saw a black pair of gloves and a silver tankard.

  She wondered what the boy was doing with all these items, and bent over to pick up the shiny mug.

  “I’ll get that!” A small hand darted for the mug.

  Adara’s hand fell on the silver vessel at the same moment as the boy’s. Each tugged for a brief second, then Adara let him have it. As the boy stuffed the item into the bundle, the firelight revealed the word “Belgad” engraved into its side.

  Adara’s eyes glanced to the bundle again. It was black. The fallen gloves had been black. Everything that had fallen from the bundle other than the tankard had been black.

  She straightened as the boy hurriedly tied the bundle again. “Where did you acquire that mug?”

  ***

  Wyck had tried not to look the woman in the face because he was sure she would note guilt in his eyes, but he had seen enough to know she had a rapier slung from her hip. She wasn’t wearing orange, so she wasn’t a city guard. That left one likely option. Belgad. She worked for Belgad.

  Wyck knew words would be a waste of time, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He dove forward, straight between the woman’s legs, dragging along Lucius’s bundle.

  ***

  The woman was surprised by the move. A mixture of a noble’s arrogance and her love for children had momentarily blinded her, causing her slow reaction.

  Wyck slipped between her legs and was halfway to the door before Adara yelled, “Spider!”

  The little man dropped his grog and nearly fell from his stool at the blaring of Adara’s voice. He quickly got his footing and spun to see a boy with a pack over his back running away from the woman.

  “Oh hell.” Then Spider lunged forward, dancing around tables and chairs.

  ***

  The boy charged out the door just as Spider reached it. Spider slowed long enough to see Adara was moving in his direction. After that, he was out the door and after the boy now running down the middle of the street as fast as his legs would carry him.

  “Get him!” Adara yelled from behind.

  Spider wasted no time in putting his leather soles to the cobbled streets. He didn’t know why he was after this boy, but something had tipped Adara that the lad was linked to Kron Darkbow. If that were true, Spider couldn’t afford to let the lad get away. Belgad would have Spider’s balls in a cup by morning if their only clue escaped.

  After roughly fifty yards, the boy turned on his heels and shot down an alley.

  Spider followed. Rushing footsteps to his rear told him Adara was not far away.

  The small man suddenly became winded, but he had known the streets of Bond since he was a boy himself. The boy he was chasing might be younger, but he didn’t have Spider’s experience. Spider knew he would catch the youth.

  At the end of the alley, Spider was proven wrong. He catapulted out of the alley
and his heels skidded to a stop. Adara halted just short of running into him and they both scrutinized the street they were on. There was no alley or street across from them, so the boy would have had to have gone left or right down the middle of an open street between lines of two-story buildings, mostly businesses shuttered for the night. Rows of gas lamps illuminated the scene, but showed no signs of the boy. Adara and Spider also strained their hearing, but neither could pick up sounds of the boy running.

  “Damn,” Spider said, still watching the street. “Belgad is going to flog us.”

  “You maybe.”

  As they began the long walk to their boat to take them back to the Swamps, the rains finally ended. Spider glanced up at the few stars that were making their first appearance of the night between gray clouds, and thought that the boy’s escape had not been a total loss. At least now they had evidence Darkbow might be alive. Spider only hoped that was enough to save him from a beating.

  ***

  By the time Wyck rowed himself across the South River and was standing on the soggy shore of the Swamps, his breathing had slowed. Running through the back alleys of Southtown, especially with a pack on his back and two people carrying swords chasing him, had kept his heart thumping for a good long while. After he jumped out of the rickety rowboat, he felt like dropping on his knees to kiss the ground; only the wormy mud and the knowledge Lucius needed him kept him from doing so.

  Fearing to be on the streets with the pack of Kron Darkbow on his back, Wyck decided not to make a straight line for the graveyard. The boy had escaped the man and woman from the Rusty Scabbard by using low rooftops and he did so again in the Swamps, which made him all the more joyful because he could avoid most of the mud.

  Near Beggars Row he spotted a bakery open early for business. Wyck had not expected to be able to buy bread after all the rain of the day, but the waters had ceased falling and apparently the baker was a shrewd vendor who wanted to earn every copper piece he could. Wyck briefly stashed Lucius’s bundle on a roof and climbed down to purchase several loaves of bread and a small blackberry tart for himself. After stuffing down his treat he retrieved the package and added the bread to it. Continuing on his way, he stopped only once more to steal a lit torch hanging near the Stone Pony tavern.