Jimmy The Hand (Legends of the Riftwar Book 3)

Not much of an advertisement for honest toil, Jimmy thought morosely, taking a mouthful and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. But then I was never tempted.

 

The Sail and Anchor was as typical a sailors’ dive as you could find in the dockside quarter of Krondor. Jimmy had scouted the caravanserai and had judged it unlikely he could slip out within a day or so, given the close scrutiny everyone was being subjected to as they tried to leave the city. The pulling down of the tower above the cells had saved over thirty Mockers, but it had driven del Garza into a frenzy of reprisals. A few Mockers too stupid to keep out of sight were already down in the Market Square Gaol—the Sheriff’s Constables ran that lock-up—but they stood a fair chance of avoiding the gallows, for none had been collared for a hanging offence, unless del Garza changed the laws again. However, a few common workers and a couple of merchants’ wives and daughters had also been rounded up, so now del Garza had the guilds and citizens in an uproar.

 

From what Jimmy could see in the falling darkness the previous evening, del Garza already had every engineer and mason in the Kingdom crawling over that tower—it looked as if he meant to have it back in place before Duke Guy returned from the Keshian border. Jimmy smiled. Toss in a magician or two and he might just pull that off.

 

‘Thanks,’ Flora said and took a sip, watching Jimmy over the rim of her mug. ‘You’re thinking. What about?’

 

He hunched over his own ale, blowing at the thin layer of froth and wondering if he looked as depressed as he felt. ‘Just having to leave the city. And having to sneak aboard a ship. I don’t care much for ships.’

 

‘Have you ever been on one?’ she asked, a little excitedly.

 

‘No, but I know enough to know once you’re on one, there’s few places where you can bolt, unless you can swim like a fish. I’m good enough at hiding, but hiding out on a ship . . . they call it being a stowaway.’

 

‘Well, don’t. Go as a passenger.’

 

Jimmy sighed. ‘Del Garza’s checking passengers as close here as he is at the city gates.’

 

‘Cheer up, Jimmy! It’s not the end of the world,’ she said softly, and grew thoughtful.

 

‘No, the Upright Man just wants me to go to the end of the world,’ he said. ‘And drop off the edge for a while. Maybe he’d really like it if I managed to get kidnapped to Great Kesh, or that world the invaders come from.’ Jimmy glanced up at her from under his brows; he wasn’t even sure she was paying attention. If I’m going to grumble and moan and pity myself, at least she could listen to the specifics, he thought.

 

This was not the way he’d expected things to be tonight. Someone, many someones, should be buying him an ale and dinner besides, and singing his praises, and thumping his back until it hurt. Instead he couldn’t go near Mocker’s Rest or even the sewers: he had to be out of town, and soon. Even lingering this long was a bit of a risk.

 

Instead of being a hero, he was all alone in this working man’s tavern, facing exile.

 

Well, all right, I’m not alone, but for all the attention Flora’s paying me I might as well be. I’m a hero, gods take it. Girls, plural, should be all over me.

 

Now she was giving him a considering look. He knew that look. It was the look a woman gives you when she’s going to ask for something. Jimmy raised a single brow, waiting for the shoe to drop.

 

Suddenly she gave him a brilliant smile. ‘I know where we can go,’ she said.

 

‘We?’ That was unexpected. ‘What do you mean, we?’

 

‘My mother told me that I have a grandfather and an aunt in Land’s End. She said my grandfather didn’t approve of my father.’ Flora’s eyes took on the far-away look of someone remembering. ‘Not that my parents ever said so, but they’d look at one another and they’d have these odd smiles . . . sad like . . . Anyway,’ she continued, ‘we could go to Land’s End and see if I still have family there. It would be like a quest! What d’ye think?’

 

Jimmy blinked. It was an idea, he supposed. Or a direction at least.

 

‘Where is Land’s End?’ he asked. He’d heard of it, of course, but that didn’t mean he knew where it was or anything else about it.

 

‘I dunno. I never went there. But we can find out. What d’ye say? Shall we?’

 

He widened his eyes and tipped his head, shrugging. ‘Why not? I’ve got to go somewhere, but . . . would we be welcome, just dropping in with no warning? I mean, if your grandfather didn’t approve of your father . . .’ He trailed off awkwardly.

 

Flora’s lips thinned. ‘Well, the way my Pa turned out after my mother died I could hardly blame him for that, now could I?’

 

Jimmy sidestepped the issue of how her father had become a brawling drunk by asking, ‘Is that why you didn’t go to Land’s End after he died?’

 

With a grimace Flora shook her head. ‘I was only nine years old, Jimmy. I had no money and no idea how to get there.’ She shrugged, giving him a wry smile. ‘And the only people I ever knew were here.’

 

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