The Complete Darkwar Trilogy: Flight of the Night Hawks, Into a Dark Realm, Wrath of a Mad God. Raymond E. Feist
circumspect.’
‘Well enough, but what about tonight? Chaos or shadows?’
Amafi looked around again, laughing like Tal had said something funny. ‘I do not know. If there were more people here tonight, chaos. But there are still too many for shadows.’
‘So, you think I’m safe until we depart?’
‘I suspect so, Magnificence, but I would keep your wits about you and be especially cautious if you must visit the garderobe.’
‘Having one’s throat cut while relieving oneself would be a most undignified death.’
‘It has been done.’
‘The man guarding the back path, is he a Nighthawk or hired help?’
Amafi said, ‘It is difficult to say, Magnificence. They would not place someone to confront you there, rather someone to signal others that you have left by another route … I would wager hired help.’
‘Signal who?’
Amafi said, ‘Certainly not those two girls.’ He said, ‘Return to the tables and I will attempt to find out who his confederate might be.’
Tal nodded and returned to a different table from the last one, tired of watching the cheating brothers and pretending not to be annoyed by them. At this new table he found two merchants from the south and a minor palace-functionary losing modest amounts of gold to two travellers from the Kingdom.
Even so, the gentlemen at the table were affable. When introductions had been made, the two travellers expressed some interest in Tal’s relationship to people that they might know in Yabon.
Tal deflected their questions by stating although he was a court baron in Yabon, he had spent most of his time travelling and living in the east, especially in the city of Roldem. This led to one of the men realizing that he was a past Champion of the Masters’ Court, which while no less tedious a conversation for Tal, did at least free him from further scrutiny regarding his fictional Yabonese background.
The hours dragged by, then roughly two hours after midnight, a party of drunken young men entered the gambling hall. Two of them quickly found girls and headed upstairs, while three others found seats at a large table where a game of knucklebones was in progress. One sat down and seemed to doze off quickly.
Amafi came to Tal’s side and said, ‘Magnificence, a word, please?’
Tal excused himself and they moved to a deserted corner of the room. ‘Someone has grown impatient. You see the man who appears to doze in the corner?’
‘I see him.’
‘He entered with the drunken youths, but he was not with them. He is older and he feigns intoxication. Even now I think he watches from under hooded lids.’
‘Is he a Nighthawk?’
‘Almost certainly, for they would not send a mere underling to drive you into their arms.’
‘How dangerous?’
‘Very, for he will willingly die for his clan, which means that his task may be to allow you to kill him, then as you flee, others will take you outside.’
‘Fanatics,’ Tal said as if it were a curse word.
‘What would you have me do?’
‘Wait,’ said Tal. He approached the two girls who had been circling the floor for hours, trying to look as if they were having a good time. They brightened up noticeably as Tal closed in on them. Both were dressed in a various Trueblood fashion, though it was clear from their fair skin and light eyes that they were not Trueblood. In addition to their linen kilts and torques, they wore gauzy wraps which covered their breasts, if only slightly. Their jewellery was cheap and obvious and it was clear to Tal that both girls were not in their usual habitat. He would probably find them in a moderate brothel or haunting the modest inns of the city on most nights. In a few years when their looks faded, they would be walking the streets in the poorer section of the city.
The taller of the two with reddish-brown hair said, ‘I was just telling my friend that if one man in the room were to come talk to us, I wished it would be you, handsome!’
They both giggled. Tal smiled and leaning forward said, ‘How would you two like to make even more gold than you’ve been promised?’
The girls’ expressions turned to shock. Tal put his arms around their waists and pulled them slightly towards him as if getting familiar, but his grip was firm as he said, ‘Smile, girls; you’re being watched, and those men who promised you gold after you have lured me upstairs are going to cut your throats instead. Now, what will it be? Life and gold, or do you want to see some fairly spectacular bloodshed right here, right now?’
The shorter girl with raven-dark hair looked as if she were on the verge of fainting, but the taller one said, ‘They promised us that no one would get hurt. They said it was a prank.’
‘It’s not a prank. Now, what do you have?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What did they give you to poison me with?’
‘Not poison,’ said the shorter girl, her voice wavering with fear. ‘Just some drops to make you sleep. They said they were going to drag you out of here and put you on a caravan to the south. They said you had caused some trouble with a man’s wife and they were going to teach you a lesson.’
Tal shook his head and laughed loudly. Then he whispered, ‘And you, of course, believed that.’
The red-headed girl said, ‘For ten gold coins, I’d believe you were Sung the Pure for the night.’
‘Good, here’s what I want you to do. Come upstairs with me and give me the drops.’
He motioned for Amafi to come over and said, ‘I’m going to spend some time with my friends, here, before playing again. Settle it with the landlord.’
Amafi bowed and went to find the owner of the establishment, while Tal stood with his arms around both girls. They ran their hands up and down his arms in a display of affection, but their eyes darted anxiously around the room. ‘Don’t look for anyone,’ whispered Tal. ‘Keep your eyes on me.’
Amafi returned in a moment and said, ‘Top of the stairs on the next floor, Magnificence, the room at the end of the hall.’
Tal took the key, knowing that the man by the garden or the one feigning sleep in the cushioned seat would have a duplicate. Tal whispered to Amafi, ‘Follow the sleeping man when he rises. When he reaches the door, help him enter the room.’
Tal took the girls upstairs, and once they were in the room, motioned for them to stand in the farthest corner from the door. He was grateful that it was a large room. One immense window overlooked the garden, directly above the corner where Amafi had secreted the rope ladder. Like in most Keshian homes, there was no glass in the window, just wooden shutters which could be closed to provide shade, or warmth on those rare days when the temperature fell below a comfortable level.
Tal said, ‘Give me the potion.’
The redhead gave him a small vial and Tal took out his own purse. ‘There are about three hundred gold coins in here,’ he said, tossing it to the dark-haired girl. ‘When I tell you to, leave quickly, but do not appear to be fleeing. If you want to live to spend that gold, do not go back to your brothel or where you live – they will have someone waiting for you. Wait until the market opens at dawn and buy robes like those worn by the desert women of the Jal-Pur. Cover yourself so only your eyes can be seen. Then, hire a guardsman from the mercenaries’ guild – he should cost you no more than ten pieces of gold.’
While he spoke, Tal measured every angle of the room: the large bed on the floor, the two tables, one on each side, the large tray of fruits and sweets at the foot of the bed, and an earthenware crock in which pitchers of wine or ale could be cooled.
‘Take