“What’s the problem?” asked Roo.
“I’ve got a busted hub.” He pointed to the rear wheel, looking nervous. “And my master will be furious if this cargo is late.”
Roo took a second look at the wagon. “Who’s your master?”
“I’m a teamster for Jacoby and Sons,” answered the driver. Roo laughed. “I know your master. Yes, he’ll be upset if you’re delayed. What cargo?”
At that the driver looked very uncomfortable. “Just some trade goods . . . from Sarth.”
Roo glanced at Duncan, who nodded and jumped down. “My friend,” said Duncan, “we’re in a position to be of service.” He slowly drew his sword and pointed at the wagon. “First we’re going to unload your cargo and put it in our wagon, which, as you can see, is presently empty. Then we will replace our very tired horses with your rested and fresh animals.”
The driver looked as if he was going to bolt, but Roo had come around the other side of his horses and stood between the driver and freedom. The timid man said, “Please don’t hurt me.”
Duncan smiled. “My friend, that is the last thing we wish to do. Now, why don’t you get started on unloading while my companion inspects your bill of lading.”
The man’s eyes grew wide as he headed for the back of the wagon. Unfastening the last tie-down, he said, “The paperwork is . . . coming by messenger . . . later.”
Roo laughed. “And the guard at the city gate who Tim Jacoby has paid off will believe that nonsense, I’m certain.”
The driver nodded and sighed. “You know the routine, obviously.” He lifted a large box out of the wagon and carried it over to Roo’s wagon. Duncan lowered the tailgate, and the man shoved the box in, pushing it deep into the wagon. “You realize you’re going to get me killed?”
“I doubt it,” said Roo. “you’ve got a busted wheel, and when you reach Krondor, you’ll have a wonderful tale to tell of the brave fight you put up against overwhelming odds.”
Duncan chimed in: “Your bravery is undoubted, and you risked your life against six bandits—no, seven bandits for your master’s cargo. Why, I’d buy you a drink in any inn in Krondor to hear that story again.”
“What’s the cargo?” asked Roo.
“Might as well tell you,” said the driver as he carried the second box over to Roo’s wagon. “Quegan luxuries. My master sent me up to Sarth to meet with a Quegan captain who made an unscheduled stop there. The Royal Customs house was closed, because the customs officer in Sarth is dead.”
“When did that happen?” asked Roo, suddenly very interested.
“Over a year ago.” The driver laughed bitterly. “For whatever reason, new Prince in the city, or some other thing, there’s been no replacement up there since. Makes it easy to pick up goods there and bring them down to the city. As you said, if you know the right city gate and which guard sergeant to talk to, getting into the city with any cargo is an easy task.”
Roo said, “Would you be willing to mention the time and gate?”
“What’s in it for me?” asked the driver, and suddenly Roo was laughing.
“Your loyalty to the Jacobys is unmatched.”
The driver shrugged, then jumped into the wagon to grab the last box. “Do you know Tim?”
Roo nodded. “Well enough.”
“Then you know he’s a swine. His father, Frederick, when he was in charge, well, he’s a tough old boot, but he was mostly fair. If you did something well, there was a little extra in it for you. Randolph’s a decent enough fellow.
“But Tim,” said the driver, carrying the box over to Roo’s wagon, “now there’s a piece of work. He’s the sort that if you do a perfect job, why, that’s what he’s paying you for, but if you make the tiniest mistake, you’re as likely to get a knife between your ribs as a pat on the back. He has these two bashers who are with him all the time. He’s a rough customer.”
Roo glanced at Duncan. “At least he thinks he is.” He asked the driver, “What’s your name?”
“Jeffrey,” answered the driver.
“Well, Jeffrey,” said Roo, “you’ve been very helpful.” He reached into his purse and pulled out a gold coin. “The gate and time?”
“Just before you get to the city, turn off along the sea trail and come to the small gate that leads to the fishing harbor to the north of the city. That’s the gate. During the day watch. It’s a sergeant named Diggs. He’s taking Jacoby gold.”
“Are you known to him?”
The driver nodded. “But Jacoby uses a lot of different teamsters to cover his tracks. He sometimes hires sailors or farmers if he thinks he might be caught smuggling.” Roo nodded, remembering the drunken sailor who had run his wagon into Barrett’s front door. “So when you see the gate guard, ask for Diggs by name. Tell him you’ve got netting from Sarth.”