Lord Of The Silent Kingdom Part 7

"s.h.i.t," Ghort said. "You "You got a sister named Alma?" got a sister named Alma?"

Pella nodded. He was a gaunt little thing, small for his age. His eyes seemed exaggeratedly large.

"Find out about the house," Hecht urged.

"That's spooky," Ghort said when the boy was out of earshot.

"It is unusual," Hecht conceded. "But not a mystery we need to solve."

"No. Hey. Somebody knows where the place is."

"Good. It's late. We need to get off the street."

Pella came back. "Your Honors didn't have it right. It's the House of the Ten Galleons."

"That makes more sense. Here."

"My sister would make you a better deal."

Hecht recalled the boy offering his sister on the quayside. "Another tie to the poem. I take it the House of the Ten Galleons is a sporting house."

Pella nodded, not conceding the possibility that his charges would be unaware of that fact.

Ghort observed, "An interesting place to find our friend."

"Indeed." Members of the Brotherhood took the same vow of celibacy as less warlike priests. But the Brotherhood tried to observe its vows. All of them. Which was a source of frequent and abiding friction with the rest of the Church.

"We'll think about your sister later," Hecht said. "We need to see a man who lives at the House of the Ten Galleons."

"Really? He must be a eunuch, Your Honor."

"Show us where."

Pella showed. Ghort gave him a coin and told him to wait. "We'll be right back out. We'll need you some more." Once they were away, he asked, "We will be right back out, won't we? You didn't get any special instructions in that mess, did you?"

"Just to give the packet to a man named Beomond. Using a set of signs and countersigns."

"What's he look like?"

"Six and a half feet tall, almost as wide, with a big scar on his face. Plus a wine stain birthmark that starts on his left cheek and runs down his throat and under his shirt."

"Sounds like a beauty. Good evening, sir," Ghort told the man who responded to their knock.

Hecht offered, "We came from Heber," which was the formula included in his instructions.

"Conf.u.c.kinggratulations. Show me some silver."

That was not the appropriate response.

A small, high voice piped, "Out of the way, Tiny."

Tiny moved. A truly tiny, wrinkled old woman whose coloring suggested origins far to the east stepped forward. "Where are you from?" Her Firaldian was flawless, with a Sonsan accent. She must be a Chaldarean refugee from the Kaifate of Qasr al-Zed. There were countless pockets of non-Episcopal Chaldareans scattered around the Realm of Peace.

"Heber."

"Welcome, countrymen. Come in. Can I offer you refreshments?"

"Coffee, perhaps." All part of the sign-countersign, but here the old woman broke the rhythm. "We can't afford coffee anymore. Business has been bad lately."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Hecht knew that was the sort of complaint an eavesdropper would expect to hear. "Whatever's convenient, then."

"Wine would hit the spot," Ghort said.

Hecht scowled. Ghort was far too fond of wine. But to say so would be dangerous. All westerners drank wine, many to excess.

Hecht asked, "Is my cousin Beomond here? My uncle wanted us to bring him his birthday gift."

Tiny held out a hand. Hecht ignored it. The old woman told him, "Go wake him up." She continued a frank examination of the visitors. "You're finally catching on how to look like regular people."

Hecht did not understand. Ghort replied, "It's a gift. Some got it. Some don't. Me an' Matt, we're natural-born talents. In fact, Matt really was regular people, once upon a time."

A great, sloppy, jiggling mountain of a man appeared, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He was naked to the waist. The wine stain birthmark extended down his chest to the level of his heart.

Ghort said, "Cousin Beo has been living large since we seen him last."

Hecht released a blurt of nervous laughter. Because what Ghort said was true. The man had gotten fatter since last Hecht had seen him, in Runch, working as a porter in the Sonsan factor house. He had lacked the scar, then. And the birthmark had not been obvious in the poor light of the factor house. His name was Goydar back then.

He was drunk. He squinted at Hecht. "I seen you somewhere before."

"I'm your cousin, Mathis. Matt. I brought a birthday present from your father. I wanted to hand it over. We're in kind of a hurry. We have other business."

Mention of a present pierced the fog in the giant's mind. Dad remembered? I was beginning to wonder. You have any trouble out there? In the street?"

Puzzled, Hecht said, "No. We hired a boy off the quay. He brought us straight here." He indicated the possessions they had dropped after being admitted. "The city almost seems deserted."

The fat man asked, "You didn't get stopped by any Family patrols?"

"No."

"You will. There'll be rumors about strangers out by now. That'll turn into spies from the Brotherhood or agents of the Deves. They really want to get even with somebody. Sonsa is dying. And they claim it's all our fault. Not the d.a.m.ned Deves. They're gonna need pa.s.ses. Good ones. Brothers, when they stop you, forget who you are. Just show your pa.s.ses. Do what they say. Don't give them any excuse to strip you down. They do, you'll be lucky to end up just having your stuff taken and your a.s.s seriously kicked. They killed a Deve last week. And he was under the protection of Don Alsano."

Ghort chirped, "Matt, you want to remind me why I had to come with you?"

"Stupidity?"

"Yeah. That's the one."

Tiny offered what was, likely, the only profound statement ever to escape his mouth. "You can't fix stupid."

"s.h.i.t. Man. I like that," Ghort said. "I'm gonna use that."

The old woman yelled in from the next room, "Will you see who the h.e.l.l is at the door, Tiny? Hey! You girls get back where you belong." Hecht spotted several girls trying to get a look at the visitors. They seemed awfully young for denizens of a joy house. "You two from Heber. Come in here. That should be a customer. I don't like my customers to see each other."

"Really?"

Voices at the door. Ghort said, "That's Pella. I better see what's up." He went.

Beomond asked Hecht, "You been involved for long?"

"Only a few years."

"Been to Runch?"

Hecht considered admitting that he had. But that might start Ghort asking questions.

He was doing fine with his Duarnenian past. "I hope to go someday. To the Holy Lands, too. To walk the roads the Founders walked, among the Wells of Ihrian... I have to make the pilgrimage. But the traffic all seems to be headed this way these days. Those who sent the packet were Special Office."

"You talk too much. These walls have ears."

"Point taken. Apologies." He had let too much thought leak through while he concentrated on Ghort's conversation with Pella.

Old Bit had gone into a corner. She rummaged through a pile of what looked like refuse, came up with pa.s.ses bearing ihe Durandanti family crest. "These will do. As long as you stay away from Durandanti patrols. If you don't act like what you are and p.i.s.s somebody off. These make you agents of Don Alsano Durandanti. The Three Families are trying to get along. Them against the world. Don Alsano has a plan to bring Sonsa back."

"Hey, Matt! Granny!" Ghort yelled. "The kid says somebody's staking the place out. There's four of them. Another one ran off like he was going after reinforcements."

"That's not good," Bit said. "Not if they think you're the ones who came in on the smuggler. They'll want to know why you didn't go straight to the Don's palace. I know what. The girls don't have anything to do. We'll make up families for you. Beomond, get your d.a.m.ned birthday present put away. Tiny! Look around. Make sure there ain't nothing laying out that we don't want to answer questions about."

In ten minutes Hecht and Ghort left the House of the Ten Galleons accompanied by their wives, Ghort's son, and Hecht's brace of prep.u.b.escent daughters. He had a real daughter in al-Qarn older than these apprentice prost.i.tutes. The purported wives managed to look surprisingly respectable.

Bit had had practice showing witnesses what they wanted to see.

The thugs in the street evidently did not find it remarkable that men would take their families along on a visit to a brothel. There were no challenges. Hecht wondered how they meant to catch spies with no more information than they had.

Once clear, Ghort said, "I get the chance, I'm having me a chat with my sailor friends. They sold us out."

"Not completely. Those men didn't have good descriptions of us."

"Yeah. So my guys gave up what they had to in order to keep from getting their own nuts in a clamp. But they didn't volunteer anything useful. Good on them. What say we get out of town, now? Suddenlike."

"That's always been my plan. We made this side trip because I didn't have guts enough to tell the Special Office no."

"You never get to where you can say no anytime you want, do you?"

"You're turning into a philosopher in your dotage."

"What do we do with the wives and kids?"

The families were quieter than good, obedient Praman families. The women wore the black expected of rural wives even here in this land of idolaters. The daughters were clad poorly and plainly. Both had been among those who had tried to spy on Bit and her visitors.

"I'm sure they have instructions already. Right, ladies?"

Exactly. Except that Hecht and Ghort soon found themselves equipped with children who refused to go away. Pella Versulius thought he had a good thing going. He insisted they still needed his help. The girl, one of the supposed daughters... She grabbed hold of Ghort and refused to be returned to the joy house. She was, probably, clever enough to see that these men would not be long on respect for the claims of a wh.o.r.emaster.

Madness, Hecht thought, watching the two women try to pry the girl off Pinkus Ghort. What did she face back there that was more terrible than running off with men she knew nothing about?

The older prost.i.tutes cursed and shouted, their fear mounting. Big trouble awaited them if they did not bring this child back to the brothel. They did not give a d.a.m.n what became of the other girl.

That child sidled up to Hecht. She whispered, "Her name is Vali Dumaine, Mr. Soldier of G.o.d. Her father is important. They stole her to punish him. And to blackmail him. They're going to auction off her virginity. If her father don't do what they want. There'll be a really big reward if you take her home."

"She talks?" The stubborn child had been stone silent, the women treating her like a deaf-mute.

The girl nodded. "n.o.body knows. The wh.o.r.es don't know who she is, either. They'd probably steal her for the reward if they did."

"What would we do with her?" Loud and physical as the prost.i.tutes became, they could not separate the girl from Pinkus Ghort. Ghort did not help them. Neither did he send them off. He was waiting for more evidence to develop.

"Take her home, Mr. Soldier of G.o.d. Ransom her."

"You're trying to help her?"

"Yes."

"What about you?"

"It's too late for me, Mr. Soldier of G.o.d."

Hecht chose not to pursue that. "Won't you get in trouble?"

"Not me. Bit is my granny. She won't believe I fixed it up. I cain't do no wrong. Them b.i.t.c.hes are gonna pay for every time they slapped or pinched me when Bit wasn't looking. Now."

So. Helping the other girl's escape attempt was not a selfless act.

Vali Dumaine kept her death grip on Ghort's belt.

"Ladies!" Hecht snapped. "If this doesn't stop we all end up in chains." The uproar had begun to attract attention.

The women shut up. They stared at each other, murmured, tried one more time to pull the girl off Ghort, then grabbed Bit's granddaughter and fled. Cursing all the way.

Pella said, "Your Honors, we need to get out of here. This kind of racket always brings investigators."

"Just another reason for us to get out of town now." He felt hidden eyes watching.

Pella said, "You can't leave before the gates open. The guards don't bribe."

"Lead on, Pella." Hecht related the story the girl had whispered during the squabble. As they followed Pella.

"Hey, Pipe, we can't go dragging a kid around."

"I'm open to suggestions. Including what to do about the fact that we've attracted the attention of the Night." His amulet had begun to offer a faint warning.