‘Good. Tell Annias to pay close attention to the collection plate in the cathedral of Cimmura here. One of these days a ring will show up among the pennies. The ring will bear the coat of arms of Count Radun’s family. He’ll understand the message, and the messenger can slip away unharmed.’
‘I don’t think Annias will like that.’
‘He doesn’t have to like it. All right, how much?’
‘How much what?’
‘Money. What is Annias willing to pay Martel for his assistance? He’s getting the crown for Lycheas and absolute control of Elenia for himself. What’s it worth to him?’
‘He told me to mention the sum of ten thousand gold crowns.’
Krager laughed. ‘I think Martel might want to negotiate that point just a bit.’
‘Time is important here, Krager.’
‘Then Annias probably won’t be too stubborn about the price, will he? Why don’t you go back to the palace and suggest to him that a bit more generosity might be in order? I could wind up spending the whole winter riding back and forth between Annias and Martel carrying proposals and counterproposals.’
‘There’s only so much money in the treasury, Krager.’
‘Simplicity in itself, my dear Baron. Just increase taxes – or have Annias dip into church funds.’
‘Where is Martel now?’
‘I’m not at liberty to say.’
Sparhawk swore under his breath and took his ear away from the wall.
‘Was it interesting?’ Naween asked. She still lounged on the bed.
‘Very.’
She stretched voluptuously. ‘Are you sure that you won’t change your mind?’ she asked. ‘Now that you’ve taken care of your business?’
‘Sorry, little sister,’ Sparhawk declined. ‘I’ve got a great deal left to do today. Besides, I’ve already paid Shanda your price. Why work if you don’t have to?’
‘Professional ethics, I suppose. Besides, I sort of like you, my big broken-nosed friend.’
‘I’m flattered.’ He reached into his pocket, took out a gold coin, and gave it to her. She stared at him in amazed gratitude. ‘I’ll slip out of the front door before Krager’s friend gets ready to leave,’ he told her. He went to the door.
‘Come back sometime when your mind’s not so occupied,’ she whispered.
‘I’ll think about it,’ he promised. He tied the bandage over his eyes again, opened the door, and stepped quietly into the hall. Then he went on down into the dimly lit lower hall and back out to the street.
Talen was leaning against the wall beside the door, trying to stay out of the rain. ‘Did you have fun?’ he asked.
‘I found out what I needed to know.’
‘That’s not what I meant. Naween’s supposed to be the best in Cimmura.’
‘I really wouldn’t know about that. I was there on business.’
‘I’m disappointed in you, Sparhawk.’ Talen grinned impudently. ‘But probably not nearly so much as Naween was. They say that she’s a girl who likes her work.’
‘You’ve got a nasty mind, Talen.’
‘I know, and you’ve got no idea how much I enjoy it.’ His young face grew serious, and he looked around cautiously. ‘Sparhawk,’ he said, ‘is somebody following you?’
‘It’s possible, I suppose.’
‘I’m not talking about a church soldier. There was a man at the far end of the street – at least I think it was a man. He was wearing a monk’s habit, and the hood covered his face, so I couldn’t be sure.’
‘There are a lot of monks in Cimmura.’
‘Not like this one. It made me cold all over just to look at him.’
Sparhawk looked at him sharply. ‘Have you ever had this kind of feeling before, Talen?’
‘Once. Platime had sent me to the west gate to meet somebody. Some Styrics were coming into the city, and after they passed, I couldn’t even keep my mind on what I was supposed to be doing. It was two days before I could shake off the feeling.’
There was not really any point in telling the boy the truth about the matter. Many people were sensitives, and it seldom went any further. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it,’ Sparhawk advised. ‘We all get these peculiar feelings now and then.’
‘Maybe,’ Talen said dubiously.
‘We’re finished here,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Let’s go back to Platime’s place.’
The rainy streets of Cimmura were a bit more crowded now, filled with nobles wearing brightly coloured cloaks and with workmen dressed in plain brown or grey. Sparhawk was obliged to grope his way along, swinging his blindman’s stick in front of him to avoid suspicion. It was noon by the time he and Talen descended the steps into the cellar again.
‘Why didn’t you wake me up?’ Kalten demanded crossly. He was sitting on the edge of his cot holding a bowl of thick stew.
‘You needed your rest.’ Sparhawk untied the bandage from his eyes. ‘Besides, it’s raining out there.’
‘Did you see Krager?’
‘No, but I heard him, which is just as good.’ Sparhawk went on around the fire pit to where Platime sat. ‘Can you get me a wagon and a driver?’ he asked.
‘If you need one.’ Platime lifted his silver tankard and drank noisily, spilling beer on the front of his spotted orange doublet.
‘I do,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Kalten and I have to get back to the chapterhouse. The primate’s soldiers are probably still looking for us, so I thought that we could hide in the back of a wagon to stay out of sight.’
‘Wagons don’t move very fast. Wouldn’t a carriage with the curtains drawn be faster?’
‘Do you have a carriage?’
‘Several, actually. God’s been good to me lately.’
‘I’m delighted to hear it.’ Sparhawk turned. ‘Talen,’ he called.
The boy came over to where he was standing.
