The Scepters were somewhat subtler. Four of them stood in a cluster across the street from the tallhouse. If there were others, they were well hidden at the farthest range of a signal whistle. From the occasional glances the Scepters cast at the Uskevren house guards, Darrow saw that there was little affection between the two camps. He wondered briefly whether the guard would fight the Scepters to cover the young man's escape if he were so foolish as to show himself.
“Too bold to hide," murmured Darrow. It seemed a ridiculous motto for any of the Old Chauncel, whose successes more often depended on diplomacy and bidding wars than military conflicts.
Most house militia were simply bodyguards, but something about the proud posture of the Uskevren men made Darrow wonder just how much provocation it would take to ignite a conflict like those that had brought low both House Uskevren and House Malveen a generation earlier. Perversely, he wished Stannis Malveen were present so he could ask his opinion. Of course, Lord Malveen would never show himself in the daylight.
Unless Talbot was much slipperier than Darrow expected, there was no way he'd find shelter at his tall-house with so many eyes upon it. There was one other obvious place for the fugitive Uskevren to take shelter. Fortunately, it was not far away.
Darrow had no reason to fear the guards, so he walked down the lane between them. Too bold to hide, he joked silently. That would make a good motto for the pack, who walked boldly through the herd here in Selgaunt. None of the lambs realized there were wolves among them, and they wouldn't-not until the wolves chose to reveal themselves.
When he arrived at the playhouse, Darrow found the outer court deserted. A sign over each entrance read CLOSED in big letters, followed by a flowery apology written in fine calligraphy. Rather than approach closely enough to read the words, Darrow walked to the tiny park nearby and found an unoccupied bench. The seat afforded him a good view of the rear entrance and one of the public entrances.
Darrow watched for almost an hour. No one entered or left the building in that time, and he saw no sign of city Scepters watching the place. That surprised him, since the playhouse seemed an obvious haven for Talbot Uskevren. Either the Scepters underestimated the strength of his connection to the place, or they considered it an unlikely refuge for other reasons. Or, thought Darrow, they had someone adept at remaining unseen watching the place.
When the sun touched the horizon, Darrow knew he could wait no longer. If Feena and Talbot had returned to the city, as he assumed they would, then he knew of no other place they might hide. If they hadn't gotten into the playhouse earlier in the day, he thought it unlikely they would try so close to dusk. The moon would rise soon after dark, and it was far more difficult to resist the call of the beast on a full moon than it was to summon the transformation on other nights. What he had to do was hard enough without his suddenly turning into the wolf.
One last look around revealed no suspicious figures, so Darrow went to the back door of the playhouse. Like the others, it bore a sign and an apology for the cancelled performances. Darrow beat on the door with his fist. He waited a moment, then banged again.
A big woman with biceps like catapult shots opened the door. Darrow recognized her as one of the players, the infamous Mistress Quickly herself. He had seen her perform in both male and female roles each time he'd come to the playhouse as Stannis Malveen's eyes in the city. She clenched a straight-stemmed pipe between her jaws. The smoking bowl bobbed as she spoke through gritted teeth.
"Closed, it says." She pointed to the sign and blew smoke out her nostrils.
"I know," he said. "I'm a friend of Talbot Uskevren. I have an important mess-"
"You thought wrong, sweetie," she said, closing the door in his face.
Darrow got a foot inside the jamb before it shut. He sniffed deeply, trying to scent past the stink of pipe smoke and the woman's garlic breath. Besides the strong smell of greasepaint and timbers, he detected the odor of human sweat and something else. Mingled among the other smells was the musk of two different kinds of animals. One was a strange smell, oily and somehow hot. The other was the more familiar musk of wolves, including one particular wolf.
"Much as I hate to bust up a potential customer," said the woman, Til rattle your head on the street if you don't back off."
She pushed the door open, shoving Darrow back. She was even stronger than she looked, maybe even stronger than Darrow.
"I know he's here!" he said more loudly than she obviously liked. She looked left and right. Seeing no witnesses, she cocked a fist and prepared to bludgeon Darrow.
"Is he alone?" asked someone behind Quickly. Darrow recognized Feena's voice.
"Yeah," answered Quickly. "Nothing I can't handle on my own."
"Let him in," said Feena.
"Yer kiddin', right?"
"No," said Feena. "He's here to help."
Darrow gave the red-haired cleric a grateful srnile.^
"Sure about that?" asked Quickly. She took the pipe from her mouth and blew a stream of smoke at Darrow through the gap in her big front teeth.
"No," said Feena, "but if he's not, it'll be better to kill him inside."
Darrow realized he had not won the cleric's trust, but the fervor with which she threatened him still scared him. He had thought Selune was a gentle goddess. Perhaps she made an exception when one of her clerics had been slain.
"Good enough for me," rumbled Quickly. She slapped Darrow smartly on the buttocks. "Get in there, boy."
Inside, they led him out onto the stage and into the yard. Waiting in the lower gallery was a small group of men and women, along with a short, green-skinned creature with a wild black mane. The beast hissed at Darrow as he approached.
"Easy, Lommy," said Talbot Uskevren. He sat in the second row, surrounded by the others. Across his knees he held the biggest sword Darrow had ever seen. It looked impossible to wield, even in two hands. Talbot scratched the little creature behind the ears. "Go upstairs and make sure he wasn't followed." Lommy scrambled up the nearest pillar as nimbly as any monkey.
Talbot stood up and set the monstrous sword aside as easily as if it were a walking stick. He was at least as tall as the Huntmaster, and even more powerfully muscled. Darrow felt the same sense of foreboding as he did when in the presence of Rusk or Stannis. This man could kill him in a second.
"I saw you in the playhouse last night," said Tal. "You were with the white-haired elf."
"Yes," said Darrow.
Talbot looked ready to ask something else, but Feena interrupted. "Is it true what your friend said about killing my mother?"
"Your mother?" he asked.
"Maleva. He said you killed Maleva."
"Rusk said she was your teacher…" said Darrow. "He didn't tell us she was…"
"So it's true," she said. Her voice turned cold.
Darrow nodded slowly. "Rusk killed her, yes. She tried to stop us from coming to the city."
"But you helped," said Talbot. "You all killed her, didn't you?"
Darrow licked his lips. "Listen, I came to warn you-"
"Answer the damned question!" said Feena.
"I was there," admitted Darrow. "I… I'm as guilty as the rest."
"And you've killed before then, haven't you?" Feena spat at his feet. "You've done it yourself. You're nothing but an animal!"
This was the last thing Darrow expected. He knew they had no reason to trust him, but this badgering astonished him. "What does it matter? I'm here to help save someone, not to kill anyone."
"Eckert's daughter," said Tal. "That's what you told Feena."
"I still can't believe Eckert has a daughter," interrupted Chaney, clutching his head with both hands. "Do you know what that means? That means he's had sex. With a woman. Some poor woman had sex with Eckert!"