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That attack had not come from Kralj Odehnal. Of that he was sure. It did not
have the dwarf's stamp. Nor did Rider believe Odehnal to be that powerful, nor
possessed of so mighty an arrogance.
As he helped Chaz with his prisoner, he told his men, "This is even bigger
than we suspected. And there are more players in the game than we thought."
XII
Rider wakened with the sun. His body ached from the previous day's exertions
and bruises, yet he was eager to be at his new vocation. He leapt out of bed,
began doing calisthenics.
Su-Cha stuck his head in the doorway. "Up already?" Su-Cha was always up. Imps
did not sleep often. "The juices are flowing, little friend." "Shall I waken
the others?"
"No need. They deserve their rest. How is the prisoner?" "Unhappy. And as full
of blessed ignorance as ought to elevate him direct to nirvana. Someone put
sixty pounds of gold on your head. The King's, too. Chaz is going to wilt when
he hears his noggin is worth only five." "What I expected. What of the web?"
"Nothing shaking. His nibs ain't moved." Rider abandoned his exertions, though
customarily he devoted an hour to exercise. "I'll bathe quickly. Two chores to
be done. Take your pick. Cook breakfast or fetch shantor's robes for the whole
crowd."
"And if I choose cooking?"
"I'll boot you downstairs."
"What I thought." Having little need to consume food, Su-Cha had no need to
learn cookery. His occasional efforts verged on the poisonous. "Enough for
everybody?"
"Yes. It'll take the whole crew to corner a rat like Odehnal."
"Remember the old saw."
"I do. I don't expect he'll be taken easily."
Someone in one of the sleeping rooms grumbled about all the racket. Moments
later Spud toddled past, headed for the kitchen. He banged around enough to
waken everyone else. When Su-Cha returned with the shantor disguises he found
the whole crowd tripping over one another while cooking and eating.
The donning of disguises took place not far from the suspect tenements. The
weeping sickness was common in the slums, and the terror of the riverbanks. It
was a slow and gruesome killer, and one challenge Jehrke had not been able to
meet. Rider's men would not stand out unless they made it appear there were
too many shantors in one area. People would stay out of their way. Though
Jehrke had proven the weeping sickness not to be communicable like measles or
the pox, no one believed him.
"Take your time getting into position," Rider told the others. "Don't attract
attention. I'll touch you through the web when I'm ready." He sent them off in
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pairs, ringing their warning bells.
He let a half hour pass. He spent that time touching the neighborhood through
the web. There was a disconcerting quiet about it, as though people had sensed
Odehnal's presence and knew it augured explosion and terror.
Odehnal was not difficult to locate, this close. The woman Caracene made an
outstanding marker. From her Rider caught hints of turmoil, from the dwarf a
glowing calm.
There were others in the place. At least four more men, none of whom Rider
gave any special attention. They would be the dwarf's hirelings.
He tugged that part of the web which allowed him to touch his associates.I am
going in now, he sent.Be alert.
He moved into the filthy street, stooped, tinkling his shantor's bell. Through
a gap between drunkenly leaning tenements he glimpsed the brown dirtiness of
the river. Here the old wooden buildings stood with their tails over the
water, supported by pilings rising from the bottom mud. These places were
always collapsing into the flood, drowning their occupants, and being rebuilt
as slovenly as before.
The suspect structure was identical to its neighbors. Rider tinkled from door
to door, pausing before each as if begging. When he reached his destination,
though, he flicked a finger. A soft click sounded behind the door, a bolt
snapping open. There was no guard.
He stepped inside. Behind him one of his men rang his bell.
The darkness within was asphalt thick. He drew a gem-like crystal from a
pocket, whispered to it. It began to glow, no more brilliant than a lightning
bug. He did not go on till his eyes adjusted.
Odehnal was too confident, Rider thought. No guard, no spell to alert him to
intruders. As a soldier Rider had learned that one must always expect the
worst in enemy territory.
Eyes adapted, he touched his men again.I am going upstairs now. Odehnal was
above somewhere. Caracene and the others were in the rear, also upstairs.
Odehnal was not as lax as first glance suggested. Two thirds of the way up, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]