Flora tossed her head with a tsk!, but he could tell she was listening.
The pleasure houses will watch your customers for you, so you dont get sloppy drunks or bastards wholl beat you up for fun and not pay you. Better by far than the street. He looked at her seriously. Better by far, of course, to do something else.
She shrugged one shoulder. Like what? You know Im a lousy thief. And Im not about to pass for a beggar, now am I?
He nudged her shoulder again and smiled. Cmon, youre a bright girl. I can get you some forged references. How do you think Carstens sister got work at the palace?
Flora looked thoughtful, then she gave him a sidelong glance. Does she like it?
Seems to, Jimmy lied, having no idea himself. What wouldnt she like? She sleeps warm and in a bed of her own, with nobody else in it unless she wants him there, gets a new dress every year, good food, and paid in the bargain. Mind, she works hard, and the pays no royal bequest, but all in all she seems to think its worth it.
His tongue itched to tell her, and she helped to rescue the Princess Anita, but he restrained himself. That would only lead to, And so did I, which wasnt something he wanted spread around. The last thing he needed was to be on Jocko Radburns wanted list in a personal capacity.
Floras mouth opened to speak when Laughing Jack stepped up onto a bench and thence to a table and called out,
Listen up! When the crowd had quieted and every face turned to him the Nightwarden continued. Words down from the Upright Man, hisself! All Mockers are to lie low. He raised his hands for silence as this announcement brought forth a torrent of muttered protest. That means out of sight, here, or if you got another flop, stay inside. And you beggars and younger thieves especially. Radburn seems to like to target your kind. No boosting, at all. He paused and glared around the room: Not without special writ from the Day- or Nightmaster. Well be getting some food in later, so you wont starve, until this business is over. Any questions, again he passed a glare over the room, keep em to yourselves. Laughing Jack stepped down and walked off to a rising chorus of speculation.
What about the whores? Flora asked, frowning.
For Banaths sake, Flora, Jimmy said, invoking the god of thieves, free food and a safe place to sleep! Were finally getting to see something for all those shares we pay out. Why work when we can laze about like hed been about to say royalty, but changed it to, Bas-Tyras bully-boys. Besides, it will give you a chance to think about your future.
With a shy smile, she nodded, pleased at the attention. Oh, for
The Nightwarden took to the table again and said in exasperation: If youve got another flop, leave now! Those that dont can stay here. He stepped down again and this time left the hall.
Well, Jimmy said, rising, Im off to bed.
He glanced at the rapier in his hand and decided after all to leave it in the weapons locker. A boy his age and station carrying a first-class sword down the street in what would soon be broad daylight was bound to receive unwelcome attention. The purchase price would be ten years wages for a tailor or potmaker, much less a common labourer or child of the streets. He could scarcely assure the watch that, no, it wasnt stolen, a visiting prince had given it to him
What about you, Hotfingers? he said. Do you need an escort?
Go on! she said laughing. An escort! She swatted him on the rump. Nah, Im staying here to take advantage of the Upright Mans generosity.
Jimmy looked around nervously; that was a somewhat overbold statement, but no one had noticed.
Good night then, he said, and gave her a little salute with the hilt of the sword.
Flora broke into giggles at the sight. Escort! he heard her say as he walked off.
Chapter Two Crackdown
Jimmy watched carefully.
Despite the early hour, the streets were rapidly filling with people. The scrawny street-sweepers with their brooms and pans were just clearing off; for a moment Jimmy thought it was a job should be paid for by the Crown. A bit of a tax on each business and all the streets would be fit for travellers rather than just some of the better boulevards in the merchants and wealthy quarters where those who resided paid out of their own pockets. If I was Duke of Krondor, he thought idly, thats how Id do it.
The sweepers were being replaced by cooks and their assistants returning from the farmers markets with fresh produce, fruit and poultry. Butchers apprentices hurried along carrying quarters of beef or sides of pork. Those tradespeople who didnt live over their businesses were off to open their shops in the next hour, and those whose work-day started a bit later were looking for their bite to eat at the start of the day.
Wood smoke curled from chimneys and he could smell porridge cooking, sometimes a fish or sausage frying more odours to add their bit to the ghosts of ancient cabbage that haunted the citys poorer quarters. Wooden shoes clattered on the cobbles, bare feet slapped, hooves racketed.
The black and gold of Bas-Tyra wasnt as visible as it had been on other mornings lately, and Jimmy smirked to himself at the thought that they were still nursing their bruises. But the few members of the old Constables company seemed on edge, as if trouble were coming and they didnt know which side of it theyd land. He passed a gate where four soldiers still wearing the Princes tabards were huddled, talking with heads down rather than watching who passed through. Something was up and word was spreading. Jimmy knew every man on the docks the night before had been Bas-Tyra regulars or secret police.
For a moment he toyed with the idea of wandering over to the temporary barracks used by Bas-Tyras soldiers and taking a look at the damage, but that notion was dispelled by a rare instant of common sense. Given how touchy the guards were no doubt feeling today, any number of poor boys were liable to be spending a few days in the city dungeon. But in his case it was liable to be more than a few days and a lot more painful.
Suddenly a sergeant of the Bas-Tyra guard appeared and the Princes four sentries snapped lively and took their posts on either side of the gate. Jimmy watched from the sheltered vantage point of a deep doorway opposite the gate. The sergeants mood was dark and dangerous and when he left, the four soldiers of the Prince were studying every face that passed, looking for something. As he was about to slip away, Jimmy saw them halt one ragged fellow and start questioning him. Jimmy knew the fellow: he was not a true Mocker, but one of the threadbare poor who flitted around the edges of crime from time to time. He was a labourer named Wilkins, and Jimmy had seen him unloading smugglers cargo for Trevor Hull twice in the last year. One guard put the strong arm on him and marched him away.
Jimmy sank back into the doorway. If they were taking in know-nothings like Wilkins, then he was certain to be nabbed if he showed his face. Although, if he could get into the dungeons he might be able to do something for Princess Anitas father.