That's how I spent the morning and the afternoon. Well, how Loiosh spent it; I was able to run off and get some bread and sausage, whereas he was stuck there. I mention this because Loiosh did. Repeatedly. I gave Rocza some sausage and sent her to Loiosh, but this just barely diminished the remarks I was getting. When Rocza returned she seemed amused, which meant that either I was finally beginning to get some level of rapport with her, or I was imagining things. I'd call it fifty-fifty.
But for the most part, I just sat there, under the shade, watching nothing happen in several directions. This time, there wasn't a friendly tag showing up to offer me her services and sell me information. Information aside, I'd have welcomed the distraction.
As it got toward evening the wind shifted, now coming directly at me from the mill. You can imagine how pleased I was about that. But then half an hour or so later it shifted again, now blowing back toward the mountains, which doesn't make sense, but I've never claimed to understand weather.
Loiosh wanted to know how long he was going to have to sit there. So did I, which answer pleased him about as much as you'd expect. We were getting on each other's nerves, I guess; which is surprising only when you consider how rarely it had happened over the years. I was aware of it, and tried not to push things; for his part, he did his job.
There was still plenty of light left in the day when he said, "Here he is, Boss. Just coming home."
"Walking?"
"Nope. A small coach and two men, Boss. Unmarked."
"Hmm. Means nothing."
"Boss? I think I recognize the guy driving it."
"Give me a look. Ah. Good one, chum.”
"Who—?"
"Can't really see the red hair in this light, but he was one of the Count's men-at-arms outside the manor."
"Okay, Boss. Now what?"
"Now I get to say 'ah ha.'"
"Good. Say it. Then you can explain what it means."
"I haven't gotten that far yet. One ah ha at a time."
"I'm just saying, it doesn't prove he's working for the Count. He might have been on an errand to—"
"I know. But it's something to start with."
"Sure, Boss. Do I watch for Dahni to leave again, or are you visiting him at home?"
"I'll be right there.”
"Boss, you might want to wait until full dark; it's awfully exposed here. Lots of shacks in the same place, all looking at each other, and people coming and going."
"You know that leaves you stuck there watching until I can make it?"
He sighed into my mind, which I took as a yes, so I settled back to wait some more. Presently, as the darkness came, the docks across the river began to come to life as the boatmen prepared to bring the mill workers back to this side of the river. I wondered why none of them seemed to have built houses on that side, and saved themselves the trip twice a day. Maybe because of the stench, or because the Count forbade it. The latter was more likely.
They poured out of the place like small insects with a predator in the nest—emerging from all the holes, desperate to reach the boats and get away from the place. From what I could see, there was pushing and shoving and maybe a few fights as some were left behind until the return trip. And now there were I a few more people—women showing off their ankles—out on the street, walking past me and some of them giving me quick Speculative glances. The boats began to arrive, and there were the sounds of talking and laughing and cursing and the trampling of feet. Twenty minutes later, the second boatloads arrived, and this was repeated on a slightly smaller scale, finally falling silence as the darkness thickened.
Sometime, watch it get dark in a lightless city—preferably somewhere like the East where the Furnace blazes in such plain sight that you can't bear to look at it. It's different than in a place with Enclouding, and also different from the country. The shadows of the buildings and the occasional lonely tree gradually get longer and longer until they blend in with other buildings, with other shadows, and with the night itself, and you realize that dark has quite fallen, and you are in a new place, in a town in the night.
Loiosh guided me there, using Rocza's eyes and giving me directions. Occasionally a bit of light spilled from a house, so I could see my way for a few steps, or sometimes someone would come along swinging a lamp, used by everyone in town with any sense—that is to say, everyone but me. But for the most part Loiosh guided me. The greater part of my effort went into staying quiet; you'd be surprised how much harder it is to stay quiet when you can't see anything. Or maybe you wouldn't.
When I reached the house, Loiosh gave his wings a quick flap so I could identify where he was. He usually flies as quietly as an owl, but can make noise if he wants. I asked him about that once and he said owls are stupid, which hadn't been what I was asking about at all, so I dropped the subject.
He landed on my shoulder. There was a tiny bit of light leaking from a shuttered window.
"What's the play, Boss?"
"I bash in the door, you and Rocza get in his face, and we improvise from there. You're pretty sure he's the only one in the place?"
"No sounds from in there for hours, Boss."
"All right. Ready?"
"Yeah. I didn't hear the door lock, by the way."
"You mean I don't get to break it down? Damn."
He was right, the latch lifted easily, and I flung it open. The damned light assaulted my eyes, and I was mostly blind. Loiosh and Rocza flew in and I followed, hoping for the best.
There was a flurry of movement, some cursing, and I squinted hard and got my hands on him; then I had a dagger out and was holding it at the back of his neck. He lashed out and caught me one in the face, then kicked, but I saw that well enough to dodge it. I grabbed him harder and remembered I was dealing with a human, so I shifted the knife to his throat and he obligingly stopped moving. The loudest sound in the room was his breathing. I had the feeling he wasn't happy.
"Well met, friend Dahni. How are you on this fine evening, with the stars shining and all crickets chirping merrily and night-finches cooing so sweetly?"
He just kept breathing.
My eyes were starting to adjust. I pushed him backward and onto a stuffed chair, keeping pressure on the knife at his throat. He brought his chin up. I could now see that he was glaring, which failed to startle me.
"I will ask questions," I said. "And you will answer them. If you don't answer them, I'll decide you have no value to me. If you do answer them, I'll let you live. If I later find out you've lied to me, I will return. Are we clear on the basics?"
"It was the jhereg," he said. "They followed me."
"My familiar has skills which aren't exactly traditional," I said.
"It isn't too late," he told me. "Walk out the door, and I'll just forget this happened."
"Kind of you," I said. "Now, first of all, who do you work for?"
"You have no idea what you're—"
I slapped him, hard. "Don't even start."
He just sat there, glaring at me.
"No," I said. "That won't do. I need an answer. If you don't answer me, I will kill you. Has your employer earned that kind of loyalty?"
Somewhere, behind his eyes, he was thinking. I gave him some time.
"I work for Count Saekeresh," he said at last.
I released the pressure on his throat just a little—call it a reward of sorts. "What do you do for him?"