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The boy crutched his way up the rainy street to the red-painted brothel door and spoke briefly with the one-legged beggar stationed there. The man glared at him for a moment, then his leg miraculously unfolded out from under his rough smock and he stalked off, carrying his crutch and muttering to himself. Talen came back down the street and led Sparhawk to the door of the brothel. ‘Just lean against the wall and hold the bowl out when somebody comes by. Don’t hold it right in front of them, though. You’re not supposed to be able to see them, so sort of stick it off to one side.’
A prosperous-looking merchant came by with his head down and his dark cloak wrapped tightly about him. Sparhawk thrust out his bowl. ‘Charity,’ he said in a pleading tone of voice.
The merchant ignored him.
‘Not too bad,’ Talen said. ‘Try to put that little catch I mentioned in your voice, though.’
‘Is that why he didn’t put anything in the bowl?’
‘No. Merchants never do.’
‘Oh.’
Several workmen dressed in leather smocks came along the street. They were talking loudly and were a bit unsteady on their feet.
‘Charity,’ Sparhawk said to them.
Talen sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. ‘Please, good masters,’ he said in a choked voice. ‘Can you help my poor blind father and me?’
‘Why not?’ one of the workmen said good-humouredly. He fished around in one of his pockets, drew out a few coins, and looked at them. Then he selected one small copper and dropped it into Sparhawk’s bowl.
One of the others sniggered. ‘He’s trying to get enough together to go in and visit the girls,’ he said.
‘That’s his business, isn’t it?’ the generous one replied as they went on down the street.
‘First blood,’ Talen said. ‘Put the copper in your pocket. We don’t want the bowl to have too many coins in it.’
In the next hour, Sparhawk and his youthful instructor picked up about a dozen more coins. It became challenging after the first few times, and Sparhawk felt a small surge of triumph each time he managed to wheedle a coin out of a passer-by.
Then an ornate carriage drawn by a matched pair of black horses came up the street and stopped in front of the red door. A liveried young footman jumped down from the back, lowered a step from the side of the vehicle, and opened the door. A nobleman dressed all in green velvet stepped out. Sparhawk knew him.
‘I may be a while, love,’ the nobleman said, fondly touching the footman’s boyish face. ‘Take the carriage up the street and watch for me.’ He giggled girlishly. ‘Someone might recognize it, and I certainly wouldn’t want people to think I was frequenting a place like this.’ He rolled his eyes and then minced towards the red door.
‘Charity for the blind,’ Sparhawk begged, thrusting out his bowl.
‘Out of my way, knave,’ the nobleman said, fluttering one hand as if shooing away a bothersome fly. He opened the door and went inside as the carriage moved off.
‘Peculiar,’ Sparhawk murmured.
‘Wasn’t he, though?’ Talen grinned.
‘Now that’s a sight I thought I’d never see – the Baron Harparin going into a brothel.’
‘Noblemen get urges, too, don’t they?’
‘Harparin gets urges, all right, but I don’t think the girls inside would satisfy them. He might find you interesting, though.’
Talen flushed. ‘Never mind that,’ he said.
Sparhawk frowned. ‘Why would Harparin go into the same brothel where Krager’s staying?’ he mused.
‘Do they know each other?’
‘I wouldn’t think so. Harparin’s a member of the Royal Council and a close friend of the Primate Annias. Krager’s a third-rate toad. If they’re meeting in there, I’d give a great deal to hear what they’re saying.’
‘Go on in, then.’
‘What?’
‘It’s a public place, and blind men need affection, too. Just don’t start any fights.’ Talen looked around cautiously. ‘Once you get inside, ask for Naween. She works for Platime on the side. Tell her that he sent you. She’ll get you to someplace where you can eavesdrop.’
‘Does Platime control the whole city?’
‘Only the underside of it. Annias runs the top half.’
‘Are you going in with me?’
Talen shook his head. ‘Shanda’s got a twisted sense of morality. She doesn’t allow children inside – not male ones, anyway.’
‘Shanda?’
‘The madame of this place.’
‘I probably should have guessed. Krager’s mistress is named Shanda – thin woman?’
Talen nodded. ‘With a very sour mouth?’
‘That’s her.’
‘Does she know you?’
‘We met once about twelve years ago.’
‘The bandage hides most of your face, and the light inside isn’t too good. You should be able to get by if you change your voice a bit. Go on in. I’ll stay out here and keep watch. I know every policeman and spy in Cimmura by sight.’
‘All right.’
‘Have you got the price for a girl? I can lend you some if you need it. Shanda won’t let you see any of her whores unless you pay her first.’
‘I can manage it – unless you’ve picked my pocket again.’
‘Would I do that, my Lord?’
‘Probably, yes. I might be in there for a while.’
‘Enjoy yourself. Naween’s very frisky – or so I’ve been told.’
Sparhawk ignored that. He opened the red-painted door and went inside.
The hallway he entered was dim and filled with the cloyingly sweet scent of cheap perfume. Maintaining his pose as a blind man, Sparhawk swung his stick from side to side, tapping the walls. ‘Hello,’ he called in a squeaky voice. ‘Is anybody here?’
The door at the far end of the hall opened, and a thin woman in a yellow velvet dress emerged. She had limp, dirty-blonde hair, a disapproving expression, and eyes as hard as agates. ‘What do you want?’ she demanded. ‘You can’t beg in here.’
‘I’m not here to beg,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘I’m here to buy – or at least rent.’
‘Have you got money?’
‘Yes.’
‘Let’s see it.’
Sparhawk reached inside his ragged cloak and took several coins out of a pocket. He held them out on the palm of his hand.
The thin woman’s eyes narrowed shrewdly.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ he told her.
‘You’re not blind,’ she accused him.
‘You noticed.’
‘What’s your pleasure, then?’ she asked.
‘A friend told me to ask for Naween.’
‘Ah, Naween. She’s been very popular lately. I’ll send for her – just as soon as you pay.’
‘How much?’
‘Ten coppers – or a silver half-crown.’
Sparhawk gave her a small silver coin, and she went back through the door. She came back a moment later with a buxom brunette girl of about twenty. ‘This is Naween,’ Shanda said. ‘I hope you enjoy yourselves.’ She simpered briefly at Sparhawk, then the smile seemed to drain off her face. She turned and went back into the room at the end of the hall.
‘You’re not really blind, are you?’ Naween asked coquettishly. She was wrapped in a sleazy-looking dressing gown of bright red, and her cheeks were dimpled.
‘No,’ Sparhawk admitted, ‘not really.’
‘Good. I’ve never done a blind man before, so I wouldn’t know what to expect. Let’s go upstairs, shall we?’ She led him to a stairway that climbed into the upper parts of the house. ‘Anything in particular that you’d like?’ she asked, smiling back over her shoulder at him.
‘At the moment, I’d like to listen,’ he told her.
‘Listen? To what?’
‘Platime sent me. Shanda’s got a friend staying here – a fellow named Krager.’
‘Mousy-looking little man with bad eyes?’
‘That’s him. A nobleman dressed in green velvet just came in here, and I think that he and Krager might be talking. I’d like to hear what they’re saying. Can you arrange it?’ He reached up and took the bandage off his eyes.
‘Then you don’t really want to …?’ She left it hanging, and her generous lower lip took on a slight pout.
‘Not today, little sister,’ he told her. ‘I’ve got other things on my mind.’
She sighed. ‘I like your looks, friend,’ she said. ‘We could have had a very nice time.’
‘Some other day, maybe. Can you take me someplace where I can hear what Krager and his friend are saying?’
She sighed again. ‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘It’s on up the stairs. We can use Feather’s room. She’s visiting her mother.’
‘Her mother?’
‘Whores have mothers, too, you know. Feather’s room is right next to the one where Shanda’s friend is staying. If you put your ear to the wall, you should be able to hear what’s going on.’
‘Good. Let’s go. I don’t want to miss anything.’
The room near the far end of the upper hallway was small, and its furnishings were sparse. A single candle burned on the table. Naween closed the door, then she removed the dressing gown and lay down on the bed. ‘Just for the sake of appearances,’ she whispered archly, ‘in case someone looks in on us. Or in case you change your mind later.’ She gave him a suggestive little leer.
‘Which wall is it?’ he asked in a low voice.
‘That one.’ She pointed.
He crossed the room and put the side of his head to the wall’s grimy surface.
‘… to my Lord Martel,’ a familiar voice was saying. ‘I need something that proves that you’re really from Annias and that what you iell me comes from him.’
It was Krager. Sparhawk grinned exultantly and continued to listen.
Chapter 7 (#ulink_6509e2f8-acd6-5bba-8bdc-930d996e82e4)
‘The primate said that you might be a little suspicious,’ Harparin said in his effeminate voice.
‘There’s a price on my head here in Cimmura, Baron,’ Krager told him. ‘Under those circumstances, a certain amount of caution seems to be in order.’
‘Would you recognize the primate’s signature – and his seal – if you saw them?’
‘I would,’ Krager replied.
‘Good. Here’s a note from him that will identify me. Destroy it after you’ve read it.’
‘I don’t think so. Martel might want to see the proof with his own eyes.’ Krager paused. ‘Why didn’t Annias just write down his instructions?’
‘Be sensible, Krager,’ Harparin said. ‘A message can fall into unfriendly hands.’
‘So can a messenger. Have you ever seen what the Pandions do to people who have information they want?’
‘We would assume that you’d take steps to keep yourself from being questioned.’
Krager laughed derisively. ‘Not a chance, Harparin,’ he said in a slightly slurred voice. ‘My life isn’t all that much, but it’s all I’ve got.’
