She flailed out and caught hold of a boot. The boy yelled as she edged forward, ready to wrap her arms around his leg, but he kicked hard, hitting her shoulder, and the boot came off in her hand. It was thin and old and smelled awful. Eddis tossed it aside and dragged herself grimly into the open and partway up.
The boy was two trestles away now, dodging through startled patrons, forcing his way past serving girls toward the door. A tray of bread went flying. Eddis scrambled onto the nearest trestle, jumped from it to the next one, scattering people and cups in all directions. Another jump. The thief was about to dive under one last trestle and gain the way out when she threw herself at him, slamming him to the floor.
He was yelling now, crying out for help as she wrapped one hand in his hair and yanked.
“Where is it?” She had to yell just to be heard. “I won’t ask again, boy!”
The room went quiet around them, all at once, and the boy’s eyes moved rapidly, taking in his surroundings. Suddenly he yelled, “You’re hurting me, owwww! Let go!” Startled, Eddis nearly loosed her grip, but M’Baddah had come up and caught his arm. “What’re you doing, woman, are you mad? I was just—I was just trying to get past your table, minding my own business and you—owwww! My hair, you’ll pulling it out!”
“Not like I will if you don’t give me back my purse,” Eddis snarled. She was aware of staring patrons all around them.
M’Whan pushed his way through the crowd. “Eddis, I can see two guardsmen coming this way!”
“Good,” she said.
“Yeah, good!” the youth said virtuously. “And when they search me and don’t find anything, you’ll be sorry you hurt me!”
“I found it,” Blorys said as he and Jerdren came up. “I saw him toss something under our table when M’Baddah tripped him.” He held up a small, thin-bladed knife and a plain leather pouch.
“That’s a lie,” the youth said. “You can’t prove those things are mine.”
“You’re right. That purse isn’t yours,” Eddis glanced at the two solid men in guard’s colors who stood quietly next to her and the youth.
At a gesture from one, M’Baddah released his hold and stepped back.
“Sir,” she told the guard, her eyes still on the boy, “the purse is mine. I can tell you exactly what’s in it, to the last coin. Also, there’s a red fletch I saved from an arrow—the one I used to kill my first deer.” She waited while one of the guards took the bag, fingered its cut strings and poured the contents into one hand. His companion took the knife, peered at it closely. Eddis kept her two-handed grip on the thief. His muscles were taut, ready to spring if she relaxed her attention.
A low buzz of conversation broke out around them once more. People were standing and staring. The guard slowly pushed the coins around on his hand, then fished out a small strip of red feathers—frayed and faded from so many years in the pouch. He snugged down what was left of the cut strings then handed it to Eddis, who freed a hand to stuff the little bundle down the front of her shirt. She stepped aside as the soldiers took charge.
“What’s this about, boy?” the guard asked, mildly enough.
The youth shook his head. “How should I know? I was just going to get a fresh mug of ale, and she jumped me for no reason. Maybe you should search her, see if she’s got anything of mine.” He patted a cloth bag hanging from his belt and suddenly looked worried. “Maybe you should just hold onto her while I make sure my coins aren’t missing. I had four silver pence when I came in, and I’m not feeling anything there!”
“Oh, is that so, Kadymus?” The taverner came out of the crowd. “Seems to me a lot of us have wondered how a mere ’prentice always has coin for beer and ale—and how it seems folk find themselves short at times you’ve been about.” He looked at the larger of the two guards. “Sergeant Evoe,” he said formally, “this lady here’s named Eddis. She guards caravans, comes to the Keep often, and always visits my tavern. I’ve never had a spot of trouble from her. And that little knife belongs to Kadymus, I’ve seen him use it.”
Kadymus glared at the taverner, but before he could say anything, Evoe grabbed his near arm, the second guard grabbed the other, and they hustled the skinny cutpurse away. The taverner watched them go, and as the crowd began to break up, he took Eddis’ hand in both his.
“My thanks for catching him. I’ve had my suspicions for a time, but I’m a busy man, and he’s that quick.” .
“I noticed,” Eddis said dryly. “More fool I for wearing my purse openly on my belt like that.”
“This is a lawful place,” the taverner replied sternly. “None of my customers should have to worry for where a purse hangs in here. Your meal and your drink’s on me tonight, Eddis,” he added, and strode off to his counter.
“Nice going,” Jerdren said admiringly. “I didn’t realize you were that fast!”
Eddis shook her head. “I was angry. Still, if I’d been wrong about him…”
“Well, you weren’t,” he replied, “so why worry about it?” He led the way back to their table.
It took time, and Eddis was red faced by the time she resumed her stool. It seemed everyone in the tavern wanted to grip her hand and thank her. Jerdren grinned as he settled over the map once more.
“Funny, though,” said Jerdren, “you starting the brawl, and here in the Keep of all places!”
Eddis cast up her eyes.
“Well, I laughed, didn’t I, Blor? But you didn’t answer me. You can deal with this dinner tomorrow night—right?”
She groaned as she resumed her seat. “If they don’t have me in the cell next to that nasty little thief for starting a brawl. Yeah, Jerdren. I can do this.”
4
Sundown the next evening found the party being escorted by half a dozen polite guards in dress tunics past the inner gates and across the inner bailey. Eddis eyed the stone bastion with trepidation. The place was intimidating with its narrow windows and high walls, and armed guards seemed to be everywhere. Two flanked the doors. What if they believed that gangly young cutpurse after all—and I’m about to be arrested for brawling in public? She tried to assure herself that she’d have been led away from the tavern at once. M’Baddah touched her arm and gave her a reassuring smile. She drew a deep breath, smiled back, and tried to relax.
She’d never before taken a meal with people of rank. So we all don our breeches a leg at a time, she thought. Still, some of us pull on roughspun, and others are helped into silk.
They waited outside the great doors while the leader of their escort spoke quietly to one of the guards. The man nodded gravely and turned to pull the door open. It was thick as Eddis’ fist and appeared to be solid iron, but it was so well balanced that it took only one man to move it, and it swung silently and easily. They entered a vast, cool chamber, and the door closed after them.
“Wager those two men’ll know each of us again,” Jerdren muttered.
The sound echoed. Blorys tapped his brothers arm and minutely shook his head.
Eddis looked around curiously. The room was large and empty, and shadow hid the far walls. A few candles in tall sconces lit the way between the outer doors and another heavy door straight ahead. Their boot heels clicked on polished slate, and the sound echoed. It was cavernlike, she thought. Impersonal.
But the next door opened into a brightly lit hallway, its floor a warm, polished oak, the walls hung here and there with blue and yellow banners. Their guide passed two closed doors along the passage and stopped to indicate an open room dominated by a table covered in books and scrolls. Other than a grate in one wall and a door on the far side of the chamber, there seemed to be no other furnishings. A short, elderly man in green robes came from behind the table and smiled at them, dismissing the guards with a gesture.