A man turned with a startled expression on his face, and without breaking strike, Dash hit him as hard as he could, dropping him to the stone floor without a sound. Dash hurried along a wide walkway which ran above the watercourse. There was a slow trickle of water flowing through it. Dash knew that would change if Gustaf found the oil and used it as directed.
Dash reached a section of wall that appeared identical to the adjacent sections, but which yielded to pressure, swinging open on a shaft, perfectly balanced so as to pivot with ease. Down a short tunnel Dash hurried, reaching a plain door. Dash knew that here he stood the biggest risk of being killed before he could speak.
He tripped the locks from his side, but instead of opening the door he stood back. The audible clicks alerted someone, for after a moment the door swung open and a curious face peered through. Dash grabbed the thief and hauled him forward, spinning him around while off balance, and propelling him back through the door before he entered.
The man careened into two others who were standing on the other side of the door, knocking all of them over in a heap.
Dash stepped through. He held his hands out so anyone could see he wasn’t armed. But to insure that he made things as clear as possible, he shouted, “I’m not armed! I came to talk!”
The denizens of Mother’s, the headquarters for the Mockers, turned in astonishment at the sight of the Sheriff of Krondor standing before them, his sword still at his side. From across the room, Trina said, “Why, Sheriff Puppy, to what do we owe this honor?”
Looking from face to face, most of which were shifting from surprise to anger, he said, “I came to warn you.”
“Of what?” said one man. “Keshians in the tunnels?”
“They’re your worry,” said Dash. “The ones outside the gate are mine. No. I came to warn you that in less than an hour this entire room and the rest of Mother’s is going to be under water.”
“What!” shouted one man.
“It’s a lie,” swore another.
“No, it’s not a lie,” said Dash. “I’m going to flood the north aqueduct and the bypass channel below Stinky Street. The culverts above the main passage”—he pointed to the door though which he had just entered and the passage beyond—”are shattered and all that water is going to come flooding down here. This entire section is going to be underwater by noon.”
Trina walked over, two very large menacing-looking men accompanying her. “You wouldn’t be saying that to flush us out, would you, Sheriff Puppy? It could be useful to have us running through the sewers and tangling with some Keshians you haven’t managed to find yet.”
“Maybe, but that’s not it.”
“Or maybe you want us to be standing up in the streets for the Keshians to run over when they break down the gate?” said a man nearby, pulling his dagger.
“Hardly,” said Dash. “There are enough bumps in the roads as it is. I don’t need more.”
“I would believe you,” said Trina, “if I didn’t know the north sluice is damaged from the war and can’t be opened until it’s repaired.”
“I’m not repairing it,” said Dash. “I’m going to burn it.”
Several men laughed. “You’re going to burn a gate that’s half underwater!” said one. “How you doing that?”
“Quegan fire oil.”
Suddenly a man said, “It burns underwater!”
Trina turned and shouted orders, and men began to grab packages, bundles, and sacks. She came to stand before Dash and said, “Why warn us?”
He grabbed her arm and looked her in the eyes. “I’ve grown fond of certain thieves over my life.” He kissed her. “Call me an idiot,” he said after she stepped back. “Besides, you may be a bunch of ragged good-for-nothings, but you’re my ragged good-for-nothings.”
“Where should we go?” she asked, and Dash knew she wasn’t referring to the Mockers in general.
“Take the old man to Barret’s Coffee House. It’s almost rebuilt, and Roo Avery already has stocked it with some food. There’s a tunnel off of the sewer under Prince Arutha’s Way that leads to a landing by his basement. Lie low there.”
She looked him in the eyes and said, “You’re going to cause me more trouble than you’re worth before we’re done, Sheriff Puppy, but for now I am in your debt.”
He started to turn away, but she grabbed him and kissed him back. Whispering into his ear, she said, “Stay alive, damn you.”
“You as well,” he whispered. Then he turned and hurried back down the tunnel. He stopped to revive the man he had knocked unconscious and was glad he hadn’t tried a stunt like walking into Mother’s uninvited when the Mockers were at the height of their power; there would have been a dozen guards in that tunnel instead of one.