Laurie watched the fight pick up in tempo. “If you want a squire left intact for duty tomorrow.”
Arutha signalled to Gardan, who waved some soldiers onto the field. The seasoned fighting men quickly restored order. Arutha walked across the field and knelt next to where Jimmy sat, cradling Locklear’s head in his lap. “The bastard hit him in the baek of the head with a piece of horseshoe iron. He’s out-cold.”
Arutha regarded the fallen boy, then said to Gardan, “Have him carried to his quarters and have the chirurgeon examine him.” He said to the timekeeper, “This game is over.” Jimmy seemed on the verge of protesting, then seemed to think better of it.
The timekeeper called out, “The score is tied at four counts apiece. No winners.”
Jimmy sighed. “Nor losers, at least.”
A pair of guards picked up Locklear and carried him away. Arutha said to Laurie, “Still a pretty rough game.” The former singer nodded. “DeLacy needs a few more rules before they start cracking heads.”
Jimmy walked back to where his tunic and belt lay while the crowd wandered off. Arutha and Laurie followed.
“We’ll have another go, sometime,” remarked the youngster.
“It could be interesting,” said Arutha. “Now that they know about that passing trick of yours, they’ll be ready.”
“So we’ll just have to come up with something else.”
“Well, then I guess it might be worthwhile to make a day of it. Say in a week or two.” Arutha placed his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “I think I’ll have a look at these rules of deLacy’s. Laurie’s right. If you’re going to be dashing pell-mell up and down the field, we can’t have you tossing irons at each other.” Jimmy seemed to lose interest in the game. Something in the crowd caught his eye. “See that fellow over there? The one in the blue tunic and grey cap?” The Prince glanced in the indicated direction. “No.”
“He just ducked away when you looked. But I know him. May I go and investigate?”
Something in Jimmy’s tone made Arutha certain this was not another ploy to escape duty. “Go on. Just don’t be away too long. Laurie and I will be returning to the great hall.”
Jimmy ran off to where he last saw the fellow. He halted and looked about, then noticed the familiar figure standing near a narrow stairway into a side entrance. The man leaned against the wall, hidden in shadows, eating from a platter. He only glanced up when Jimmy approached. “There you are, then, Jimmy the Hand.”
“No longer. Squire James of Krondor, Alvarny the Quick.”
The old thief chuckled. “And that also no longer. Though I was quick in my day.” Lowering his voice so anyone else was unlikely to overhear, he said, “My master sends a message for your master.” Jimmy knew at once something major was afoot, for Alvarny the Quick was the Daymaster of the Mockers, the Guild of Thieves. He was no common errand runner but one of the most highly placed and trusted aides of the Upright Man. “By word only. My master says that birds of prey, thought gone from the city, have returned from the north.”
A chill visited the pit of Jimmy’s stomach. “Those that hunt at night?”
The old thief nodded as he popped a lightly browned pastry into his mouth. He closed his eyes a moment and made a satisfied sound. Then his eyes were on Jimmy, narrowing as he spoke. “Sorry I was to see you leave us, Jimmy the Hand. You had promise. You could have been a power in the Mockers if you’d kept your throat uncut. But that’s water gone, as they say. To the heart of the message. Young Tyburn Reems was found floating in the bay. There are places near where smugglers used to ply their trade; one is a place that smells and is of little importance to the Mockers and, therefore, is neglected. It may be that is where such birds are hiding. Now then, there’s an end to the matter.” Without further conversation, Alvarny the Quick, Daymaster of the Mockers and former master thief, sauntered off into the crowd, vanishing among the revellers.