Roo and Nakor entered the press of humanity in the market. Roo knew that Krondor still had less than half its former population, yet it seemed even more crowded than before, mostly due to the largest portion of that population thronging to the market. While work was underway throughout the city, in every neighborhood, the business of daily life was confined for the most part to the market.
Roo and Nakor made their way past wagon after wagon with late spring and early summer harvest: squash, corn, grain in sacks, and even some rice up from above Land’s End. Fruit was offered and so was wine and ale. A number of prepared food vendors filled the air with aromas both savory and pungent. Nakor sneezed as they passed one vendor of pakashka, a bread pocket filled with meats, onions, peppers, and pods. “That man has so much spice on that meat my eyes want to pop!” he said, hurrying by.
Roo laughed. “Some people like their meats hot.”
“I learned a long time ago,” said Nakor, “that too much spice often masks bad meat.”
“As my father said,” returned Roo, “if there’s enough spice on it, it doesn’t matter if the meat’s bad.”
Nakor laughed. They turned the comer and saw a group of men standing before a large wagon being used as makeshift tavern. Two barrels had been set up at each end of the wagon, and a board was set atop them to serve as a bar. Two dozen men idly stood around, drinking and laughing. As Nakor and Roo drew near, they quieted down and watched the two men pass.
After they had moved down the street, Nakor said, “That’s odd.”
“What is?”
He motioned over his shoulder. “Those men.”
“What about them?”
Nakor stopped and said, “Turn around and tell me what you see.”
Roo did as he was asked, and said, “I see a bunch of workmen drinking.”
Nakor said, “Look closer.”
Roo said, “I don’t see . . .”
“What?”
Roo scratched his chin. “There’s something strange, but I can’t quite tell what it is.”
Nakor said, “Come with me,” and led Roo off the way they had been heading. “First of all, those aren’t workers.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re dressed like workers, but they’re not. They’re soldiers.”
“Soldiers?” said Roo. “I don’t understand.”
“You have more work than you have workers, correct?”
“Yes,” said Roo. “That’s true.”
“So what are workmen doing standing around at this hour of the day drinking ale?”
“I. . .” Roo stopped. After a moment, he said, “Damn. I thought they were simply having their midday meal.”
“That’s the second thing, the midday meal isn’t for another hour, Roo. And did you see how they stopped talking when we got too close? And how everyone around them gives them a wide berth?”
Roo said, “Yes, now that you point it out. So the question is, what are soldiers doing standing around dressed like workmen getting drunk in the morning?”
Nakor said, “No, that’s not the question. They’re standing around dressed like workmen getting drunk in the morning so that people will think they’re workmen getting drunk in the morning. The question is why are they trying to make people think they’re workmen—”
“I get the point,” interrupted Roo. “Let’s find Dash.”
It took them only a half hour to spy a band of men wearing the red armbands, and when they overtook them, they found Dash leading them. Dash told his men to continue their patrol, and said, “Nakor, Roo, what can I do for you?”
Nakor said, “Tell your great-grandfather I need to talk to him. But before that, there are men at a wagon bar over there”—he pointed to the general area where they had passed the wagon—”dressed like workmen, but they aren’t.”
Dash nodded. “I know. They are one of several bands like that throughout the market.”
“Oh?” said Roo. “You know?”
Dash said, “What sort of sheriff would I be if I didn’t?”
“The usual sort,” said Nakor. “Anyway, if you know about those men, we can talk about Pug.”
“What about him?”
“I need to see him.”
Dash’s eyes narrowed. “And you want me to do what?”
“You’re his great-grandson, how do you contact him?”
Dash shook his head. “I don’t. If Father had means, he never told me. Or Jimmy, else I’d know. Grandmother merely had to close her eyes.”
Nakor nodded. “I know that. Gamina could talk to him across the world at times.”
Dash said, “I thought you’d have the means.”
Nakor said, “I don’t see him that much, except when we’re both on the island. Maybe he’s there.” Nakor turned toward Roo. “Can I borrow a ship to go to Sorcerer’s Island?”
Roo said, “If you haven’t noticed, there’s a full-blown war going on out there!” He pointed toward the ocean. “A Free Cities ship might sail out there without being accosted, but a Kingdom ship is either going to run into Quegan pirates, Keshian pirates, or Fadawah’s pirates, unless you have a fleet. I might be tempted to lend you a ship, but I’m not lending you a fleet.”
Nakor said, “I don’t need a fleet. One ship will be fine.”
“And the pirates?”
“Not to worry,” said Nakor with a grin. “I have tricks.”
“Very well,” said Roo, “but what’s the problem?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you?”