“You?”
“He tried, but Leiss intervened and said he would tell Nywulf.” My hand relaxed. “Kyril and his awful friends Borniya and Hallin came back. I hid in the loft while they gave Leiss a beating, which he seems to think should be the key to my kilts.” We sat quietly until she spoke again. “He threatened to find me alone one day.”
“Leiss?”
“No, Kyril. That does not mean I wanted him dead,” she added quickly. Drusl looked so miserable that I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and hold her close, but I was too cowardly. “Leiss is not as bad as he seems, you know,” she said. “He can be kind and I think he presumes that he and I will one day …”
“But you and he will not?”
I let my hand inch a little closer.
“No. He thinks I will come round to him but …”
My hand a little closer.
“But?”
“I’m different to him,” she said. “He says I can be content with him, but I want to be happy, Girton, not content.” She looked right at me. “However impossible that seems.”
“Drusl …”
“Why aren’t you working?” Leiss towered over us and the sun at his back turned him into a looming dark figure—it was as if Xus the unseen had suddenly appeared.
“I was taking a rest, Leiss,” said Drusl, getting up.
“With him?” He pointed at me.
“He has a mount here, Leiss,” said Drusl. “He is allowed to be here.”
“Aye, but that doesn’t mean he can stop you working. Those mounts need cleaning out.” He turned to me. “You might be blessed, but it don’t mean you can stop us doing our jobs just ’cos you ’as nothing to do. Now get off with you or I’ll ‘ave Nywulf find you some real work.”
I stood with my fists balled. I wanted to beat Leiss down in front of Drusl, but that was Girton the assassin’s wish. Girton ap Gwynr would never have done that, so I walked away listening to snippets of Drusl and Leiss arguing: “Boy’s a yellower, he’ll only make you unhappy … Gods don’t allow our sort to rise … Spoilt blessed’s get … I’d be far better for you, Drusl.” Her replying: “Never. You can be my friend but nothing else … You’re not like me, Leiss … I need someone like me …” I wondered what she meant. With a sinking heart I realised it was unlikely she spoke of me; what did a stable girl and a crippled blessed have in common?
I headed back to my room, sinking into self-pity, but was stopped by a slave in the keepyard.
“Blessed.” She bowed low. “The guard captain, Dollis, is drinking alone at a hole tavern in the townwall. We know you looked for him.”
“Thank you,” I said and dug in my pocket, taking out one of the bits Rufra had given me, a fortune for a slave. “Here.”
She bowed her head and made the coin vanish with all the skill of a Festival trickster.
I ran for the townyard wall and started checking the wall-room taverns, finding most full of raucous guards and Festival staff. As I searched for the guard captain I could almost hear my master advising me to stop—to think and not hurry into the encounter—but until then it had been impossible to find Dollis alone and I was worried I would lose the opportunity if I dallied. Time is ever man’s enemy.
I found him in the fifth wall room, one strangely muted and empty compared to the others. He was drinking alone and looked up as I entered, his hand going under the table to his blade, then he stared at me and a calculating smile crossed his face.
“Well, if it i’nt the queen’s favourite cripple.” He took a swig of his perry as I sat opposite him. “Dangerous places for cripples, these drinking holes.” It sounded like a threat.
“Then it’s fortunate you’re here to protect me, eh Captain Dollis?”
He stared at me. His missing front tooth had broken off just above the gum making it look like a new, angular, predator’s tooth was growing down to replace the lost human one. He leaned forward, squinting his eyes to see me better in the gloom.
“I don’t like blessed. Like smart-mouthed blessed even less,” he growled.
“What about Aydor?”
“The fat bear pays my wages but the yellower couldn’t win my respect if his prick depended on it.” Someone came into the hole and Dollis’s eyes flicked up. I wondered if he was worried Aydor was likely to walk in and hear the way his guard captain talked of him.
“Did the heir put you up to locking me in the kennels?”
He stared at me, weighing me up.
“What makes you think I was involved in that?”
“People talk.”
“Anjohn,” he hissed under his breath. “Well, it don’t matter. I was only obeying orders, weren’t I? Nothing wrong in obeying your betters, eh?” He cackled to himself
“Aydor’s orders?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He took another drink and his eyes slid to the door hole.
“Yes. I would like to know.”
His glance strayed back from the doorhole to me. A strange grin spread across his face, one that I could not place the emotion behind.
“It weren’t the fat bear asked it, though ’im and his friend’s ’ad a good laugh about it.”
“Who then?”
He leaned forward.
“If I tell you, mage-bent, I’ll upset important people. Very dangerous people. So you’ll need to make it worth my while. Youse family are rich I ’ear.”
“I have three bits.”
“Three bits!” he burst out, laughing. “I wouldn’t piss on you for three bits, cripple. Fifteen is what I need to make it worthwhile.”
“Fifteen? You could outfit a troop for that.” Anger bubbled up and I leaned over the table, speaking in a whisper. “I think you need to lower your price, Captain Dollis. How would the queen feel if she knew the man in charge of her son’s guard was taking jobs on the side?”
Dollis’s hand shot out and grabbed my jerkin, pulling me off balance and forward to hold me in front of his face. It was all I could do not to go for my knife and slash the tendons in his wrist.
“You threaten me, boy?” he growled. “I should slit you from ear to ear for that.” He loosened his grip and pushed me back into my seat as if disgusted with me. “Adran knows I work on the side and as long as it doesn’t affect her or the boy she don’t care.” He picked at his teeth using his dirty thumbnail. “But I don’t like upstart little blesseds trying to blackmail me, and it’s going to cost you. Twenty bits is my price now.”
“I can’t possibly find—”
“The extra is for the insult, and be glad I don’t take it out your flesh. I still might. Feel good to scar a blessed …”
“But I can’t afford—”
“Then you should piss off, boy.” He stared into his drink and waved me away. “I’ve got my own problems to sort and I don’t like the mage-bent. You’re hedge-cursed and you sour the drink.” I stood, at a loss for what to say. “I said piss off,” he growled and drove his knife into the table. I backed away and out through the doorhole, sure I could hear Dollis chuckling to himself.