Silverthorn (Riftware Sage Book 2)

Jimmy hung for a moment, his hands, arms, and shoulders afire with pain. It would be so simple just to let go and fall into soft darkness. Shaking off the fatigue and pain, he urged protesting muscles to pull himself back onto the roof. He lay gasping for a moment, then rolled over and looked down.

 

The assassin lay still on the cobbles, his crooked neck offering clear evidence he was no longer alive. Jimmy breathed deeply, the chill of fear finally acknowledged. He suppressed a shudder and ducked down as two men rushed into the alley below. They grabbed the corpse and rolled it over, then picked it up and hurried off. Jimmy considered. For the assassin to have confederates about was a certain sign this had been a Guild of Death undertaking. But who was expected down this street at this hour of the night? Casting about for a moment, he weighed the risk of staying a little longer to satisfy his curiosity against the certain arrival of the city watch within a few more minutes. Curiosity won.

 

The sound of hoofbeats echoed through the fog, and soon two riders came into the light that burned from the lantern before Trig’s home. It was at this moment that Trig decided to open his shutters again and resume his hue and cry. Jimmy’s eyes widened as the riders looked up toward the fuller’s window. Jimmy had not seen one of the men in over a year, but he was well known to the thief. Shaking his head at the implications of what he saw, the boy thief judged it a good time to depart. But seeing that man below made it impossible for Jimmy to consider this night’s business at an end. It would most likely be a long night. He rose and began his trek along the Thieves’ Highway, back toward Mockers’ Rest.

 

 

 

 

 

Arutha reined in his horse and looked up to where a man in a nightshirt shouted from a window. “Laurie, what is that all about?”

 

“From what I can make out between the wails and screams, I judge that burgher to have recently been the victim of some felony.”

 

Arutha laughed. “I guessed that much myself.” He did not know Laurie well, but he enjoyed the singer’s wit and sense of fun. He knew there was now some trouble between Laurie and Carline, which was why Laurie had asked to accompany Arutha on his journey to Krondor. Carline would be arriving in a week with Anita and Lyam. But Arutha had long ago decided that what Carline didn’t confide in him wasn’t his business. Besides, Arutha was sympathetic to Laurie’s plight if he had fallen into her bad graces. After Anita, Carline was the last person Arutha would wish angry with him.

 

Arutha studied the area as a few sleepy souls in neighboring buildings began shouting inquiries. “Well, there’s bound to be some investigation here soon. We’d best be along.”

 

As if his words had been prophecy, Arutha and Laurie were startled to hear a voice coming out of the fog. “Here now!” Emerging from the murk were three men wearing the grey felt caps and yellow tabards of the city watch. The leftmost watchman, a beefy, heavy-browed fellow, carried a lantern in one hand and a large nightstick in the other. The center man was of advancing years, close to retirement age from appearances, and the third was a young lad, but both had an air of street experience about them, evidenced in the way they casually had their hands resting on large belt knives. “What passes this night?” the older watchman said, his voice a mixture of good-natured humor and authority.

 

“Some disturbance in that house, watchman.” Arutha pointed toward the fuller. “We were simply passing by.”

 

“Were you now, sir? Well, I don’t suppose you’d object to remaining for a few moments longer until we discover what this is all about.” He signaled to the young watchman to look around.

 

Arutha nodded, saying nothing. At that point a red-faced puffball of a man emerged from the house, waving his arms while he shouted, “Thieves! They stole into my room, my very room, and took my treasure! What’s to be done when a law-abiding citizen isn’t safe in his own bed, I ask you?” Catching sight of Arutha and Laurie, he said, “Are these then the thieves, the vicious thieves?” Mustering what dignity he could while wearing a voluminous nightshirt, he exclaimed, “What have you done with my gold, my precious gold?”

 

The beefy watchman jerked on the shouting man’s arm, nearly spinning the fuller completely around. “Here now, watch your shouting, churl.”

 

“Churl!” shouted Trig. “Just what, I ask, gives you the right to call a citizen, a law-abiding citizen, a—” He stopped, and his expression changed to one of disbelief as a company of riders appeared out of the fog. At their head rode a tall, black-skinned man wearing the tabard of the captain of the Prince’s Royal Household Guard. Seeing the gathering in the streets, he signaled for his men to rein in.

 

With a shake of his head, Arutha said to Laurie, “So much for a quiet return to Krondor.”

 

The captain said, “Watchman, what is all this?”