“What secret was the pirate keeping that would lead Bear to murder?”
The scribe let out a bitter laugh. “No one needs to lead Bear to murder, Squire. He finds it whenever he wants. It’s why I could never say no to him all these years. He’d have killed me without even blinking that one good eye of his. I don’t know why he was after Knute. I just found out that Knute had a room at Ye Bitten Dog, but I’ve not been able to let Bear know yet, and I wasn’t about to sit up and tell his men when they were killing everyone in sight.”
“Well, you’re not going to tell him now,” said William, as he reversed his dagger and slammed the hilt into the base of the scribe’s skull.
The scribe collapsed and William said, “I’ll ask the captain to get this one to the palace and keep him under close watch.”
James nodded. “He speaks to no one.”
William picked up the limp scribe and hoisted the dead weight over his shoulder, and carried him down the steps. Jazhara shook her head and said, “A mystery.”
James said, “Whatever secret Knute hid, Bear wanted it badly enough to be named the most wanted man in the Western Realm. If I know Arutha, by tomorrow there’ll be a price of at least ten thousand golden sovereigns on Bear’s head. Every mercenary will give long thought as to whether they should serve Bear or turn him in.”
“What do we do now?”
James glanced around and cocked his head toward the scribe’s desk. “First I write a note to Arutha. Then we search every paper here, just in case our friend downstairs left something useful. And then I propose we start looking for two things.”
Jazhara held up one finger. “Number one: Knute’s secret.”
James nodded and held up two fingers. “And number two: Lucas. Talia’s father.” Thoughtfully, he said, “And I’m not going to be surprised if finding one doesn’t lead us to the other.”
Ye Bitten Dog was as run-down a tavern as existed in Krondor, and that was no mean feat. James shook his head. “Not my favorite drinking hole.”
William indulged in a rueful chuckle. “From what I’ve heard, James, you used to frequent worse.”
James grinned and pushed open the door. “There are no worse places. Keep your wits about you; we’ll not be welcome here.”
He entered, the others close behind, and instantly it was apparent what he meant. Every eye was fixed upon William, or rather upon the tabard he wore: that of the Prince’s Household Guard. The blood splatters and burns didn’t escape notice, either.
At the far end of a long common room a band of men huddled around a high circular table, designed so that one could drink while standing up. Their garb and bare feet identified them as sailors.
Three other men, apparently workers, stood before the fireplace, and they also stared at the newcomers.
Near the door two heavily armed men had ceased their conversation upon William’s entrance.
For a long moment, silence reigned in the tavern, then slowly voices could be heard as men started speaking in low murmurs. James spied the tavern keeper and moved to the long bar.
“What the hell do you want?” was the barkeep’s welcome.
James smiled. William recognized that smile. It meant trouble was coming.
“Drinks, for me and my friends.”
The tavern keeper was a dark-haired man, with a thick thatch that appeared as if it hadn’t been visited by a comb in a year. His chin was covered in stubble and his heavy jowls and deep circles under his eyes gave the impression of one who sampled his own ale far too regularly. He placed three full flagons on the bar and growled, “That’ll be six coppers. Drink up then shove off; we’ve no love for stooges of the court in here.”
“Charming,” muttered Jazhara as she sipped at the ale. It was thin and bitter, so she placed it upon the bar and stood back to watch.
James said, “You the chap they call Lucky Pete?”
The puffy face split into a smile. “Ay, Lucky Pete, on account o’ me skills with the fair sex.” He winked at Jazhara and said, “Come see me later, darlin’, and I’ll show ya me peg leg.”
He put his hand over hers. She smiled, leaned forward, and whispered, “You’ll have two to show me if we don’t find what we’re looking for.” She removed his hand.
Pete grinned and chuckled, which did nothing to improve his appearance. “Got fire, do you? I like fire in me women.”
William said, “We heard a fellow named Knute lodges here.”
Pete cocked his head. “Knute? Did you say Knute? I’m hard of hearin’, you know, an’ me memory ain’t what it used to be, lad.” He made a show of cupping his hand behind his ear.