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‘Patriotism, Platime?’ Kalten asked.
‘Just because I’m a thief and a murderer doesn’t mean that I’m disloyal. I respect the crown as much as any man in the kingdom. I even respected Aldreas, weak as he was.’ Platime’s eyes grew sly. ‘Did his sister ever really seduce him?’ he asked. ‘There were all kinds of rumours.’
Sparhawk shrugged. ‘That’s sort of hard to say.’
‘She went absolutely wild after your father forced Aldreas to marry Queen Ehlana’s mother, you know.’ Platime sniggered. ‘She was totally convinced that she was going to marry her brother and get control of the throne.’
‘Isn’t that sort of illegal?’ Kalten asked.
‘Annias said that he’d found a way around the law. Anyway, after Aldreas got married, Arissa ran away from the palace. They found her a few weeks later in that cheap brothel over by the river. Just about everybody in Cimmura had tried her before they dragged her out of the place.’ He squinted at them. ‘What did they finally do with her anyway? Chop off her head?’
‘No,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘She’s cloistered in the nunnery at Demos. They’re very strict there.’
‘At least she’s getting some rest. From what I hear, the Princess Arissa was a very busy young woman.’ He straightened and pointed at a nearby cot. ‘You can use that one,’ he told Sparhawk. ‘I’ve got every thief and beggar in Cimmura out looking for this Krager fellow of yours. If he sets foot in the streets, we’ll know about it within an hour. In the meantime, you might as well get some sleep.’
Sparhawk nodded and rose to his feet. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked Kalten.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Do you need anything?’
‘How about some beer – just to restore all the blood I lost, of course.’
It was impossible to tell what time it was since the cellar had no windows. Sparhawk felt a light touch and came awake immediately, catching the hand that had touched him.
The grubby-looking boy, Talen, made a sour face. ‘Never try to pick a pocket when you’re shivering,’ he said. He mopped the rain out of his face. ‘It’s really a miserable morning out there,’ he added.
‘Were you looking for anything in particular in my pockets?’
‘No, not really – just anything that might turn up.’
‘Would you like to give me back my friend’s ring?’
‘Oh, I suppose so. I only took it to keep in practice anyway.’ Talen reached inside the wet tunic and drew out Kalten’s ring. ‘I cleaned the blood off it for him,’ he said, admiring it.
‘He’ll appreciate that.’
‘Oh, by the way, I found that fellow you were looking for.’
‘Krager? Where?’
‘He’s staying in a brothel in Lion Street.’
‘A brothel?’
‘Maybe he needs affection.’
Sparhawk sat up. He touched his horsehair beard to make sure it was still in place. ‘Let’s go talk to Platime.’
‘Do you want me to wake your friend?’
‘Let him sleep. I’m not going to take him out in the rain in his condition anyway.’
Platime was snoring in his chair, but his eyes opened instantly when Talen touched his shoulder.
‘The boy found Krager,’ Sparhawk told him.
‘You’re going after him, I suppose?’
Sparhawk nodded.
‘Do you think the primate’s soldiers are still looking for you?’
‘Probably.’
‘And they know what you look like?’
‘Yes.’
‘You won’t get very far then.’
‘I’ll have to chance it.’
‘Platime,’ Talen said.
‘What?’
‘Do you remember that time when we had to get Weasel out of town in a hurry?’
Platime grunted, scratching at his paunch and looking speculatively at Sparhawk. ‘How much are you attached to that beard?’ he asked.
‘Not too much. Why?’
‘If you’d be willing to shave it off, I know a way you might be able to move around Cimmura without being recognized.’
Sparhawk began pulling off chunks of the false beard.
Platime laughed. ‘You really aren’t attached to it, are you?’ He looked at Talen. ‘Go and get what he’ll need out of the bin.’
Talen went to a large wooden box in the corner of the cellar and started rummaging around inside as Sparhawk finished removing the beard. When the boy came back, he was carrying a ragged-looking cloak and a pair of shoes that were little more than rotting leather bags.
‘How much of the rest of your face will come off?’ Platime asked.
Sparhawk took the ragged cloak from Talen and poured some of Platime’s wine on one corner. Then he vigorously scrubbed his face, removing the remnants of Sephrenia’s glue and the purple scar.
‘The nose?’ Platime asked.
‘No. That’s real.’
‘How did it get broken?’
‘It’s a long story.’
Platime shrugged. ‘Take off your boots and those leather breeches. You’ll wear the cloak and those shoes.’
Sparhawk pulled off his boots and peeled off the leather hose. Talen draped the cloak around him, then pulled one corner across the front and fastened it to the opposite shoulder so that it covered Sparhawk’s body and reached about haltway to his knees.
Platime squinted at him. ‘Put on the shoes and rub some dirt on your legs. You look a bit too clean.’ Talen went back to the bin and returned with a scuffed leather cap, a long, slender stick and a length of dirty sackcloth.
‘Put on the cap and tie the rag across your eyes,’ Platime instructed.
Sparhawk did that.
‘Can you see well enough through the bandage?’
‘I can make things out, but that’s about all.’
‘I don’t want you to see too well. You’re supposed to be blind. Get him a begging bowl, Talen.’ Platime turned back to Sparhawk. ‘Practise walking around a bit. Swing the stick in front of you, but bump into things from time to time and don’t forget to stumble.’
‘It’s an interesting idea, Platime, but I know exactly where I’m going. Won’t that make people suspicious?’
‘Talen will lead you. You’ll just be a pair of ordinary beggars.’
Sparhawk hitched up his belt and shifted his broadsword around.
‘You’re going to have to leave that here,’ Platime told him. ‘You can hide a dagger under the cloak, but a broadsword’s a little too obvious.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’ Sparhawk pulled out his sword and handed it to the fat man in the orange doublet. ‘Don’t lose it,’ he said. Then he began to practise the blind man’s groping walk, tapping the long, slender stick Talen had given him on the floor as he went.
‘Not too bad,’ Platime said after several minutes. ‘You pick things up fast, Sparhawk. It ought to be good enough to get you by. Talen can teach you how to beg as you go along.’
Talen came back from the large wooden storage box. His left leg looked grotesquely twisted, and he limped along with the aid of a crutch. He had removed his gaudy waistcoat, and he was now dressed in rags.
‘Doesn’t that hurt?’ Sparhawk asked, pointing at the boy’s leg with his stick.
‘Not much. All you have to do is walk on the side of your foot and turn your knee in.’
‘It looks very convincing.’
‘Naturally. I’ve had a lot of practice.’
‘Are you both ready then?’ Platime asked.
‘Probably as ready as we’ll ever be,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘I don’t think I’ll be very good at begging, though.’
‘Talen can teach you the basics. It’s not too hard. Good luck, Sparhawk.’
‘Thanks. I might need it.’
It was the middle of a grey rainy morning when Sparhawk and his young guide emerged from the cellar and started back down the muddy alleyway. Sef was once again standing watch in a recessed doorway. He did not speak to them as they passed.
When they reached the street, Talen took hold of the corner of Sparhawk’s cloak and led him along by it. Sparhawk groped his way behind him, his stick tapping the cobblestones.
‘There are several ways to beg,’ the boy said after they had gone a short distance. ‘Some prefer just to sit and hold out the begging bowl. That doesn’t bring in too many coins, though – unless you do it outside a church on a day when the sermon’s been about charity. Some people like to shove the bowl into the face of everybody who walks by. You get more coins that way, but sometimes it irritates people, and every so often you’ll get punched in the face. You’re supposed to be blind, so we’ll have to work out something a little different.’
‘Do I have to say anything?’
Talen nodded. ‘You’ve got to get their attention. “Charity” is usually good enough. You don’t have time for long speeches, and people don’t like to talk with beggars anyway. If somebody decides to give you something, he wants to get it over with as quickly as possible. Make your voice sound hopeless. Whining isn’t all that good, but try to put a little catch in your voice – as if you were just about to cry.’
‘Begging’s quite an art, isn’t it?’
Talen shrugged. ‘It’s just selling something, that’s all. But you’ve got to do all the selling with just one or two words, so put your heart in it. Do you have any coppers with you?’
‘Unless you’ve stolen them already. Why?’
‘When we get to the brothel, you’ll need to bait the bowl. Drop in a couple of coppers to make it look as if you’ve already got something.’
‘I don’t quite follow what you’ve got in mind.’
‘You want to wait for this Krager to come out, don’t you? If you go in after him, you’re likely to run into the bruisers who keep order in the place.’ He looked Sparhawk up and down. ‘You might be able to deal with them at that, but that sort of thing gets noisy, and the madame would probably send for the watch. It’s usually better just to wait outside.’
‘All right. I suppose we’ll wait then.’
‘We’ll station ourselves outside the door and beg until he shows up.’ The boy paused. ‘Are you going to kill him?’ he asked. ‘And if you are, can I watch?’
‘No. I just want to ask him a few questions.’
‘Oh.’ Talen’s voice sounded a little disappointed.
It was raining harder now, and Sparhawk’s cloak had begun to drip down the backs of his bare legs.
They reached Lion Street and turned left. ‘The brothel’s just up ahead,’ Talen said, tugging Sparhawk along by the corner of his dripping cloak. Then he stopped suddenly.
‘What’s the matter?’ Sparhawk asked him.
‘Competition,’ Talen replied. ‘There’s a one-legged man leaning against the wall beside the door.’
‘Begging?’
‘What else?’
‘Now what?’
‘It’s no particular problem. I’ll just tell him to move on.’
‘Will he do it?’
Talen nodded. ‘He will when I tell him that we’ve rented the spot from Platime. Wait here. I’ll be right back.’
