"What are you doing here?"
"I've heard about your new assignment," Jubal said, his dark lips tightening into a flat smile. "Good news travels slower than bad in this town, but it still travels."
"I already gathered that from your first comments. What I want to know is why it drew you into the open. Forgive me if I find it hard to believe that you're here solely to wish me safe voyage, but in the past the only times you've sought me out is when it somehow benefited you or your operations. Of what import is my appointment to you?"
The crime lord gave a short bark of laughter and shook his head.
"Your time in court has certainly sharpened your tongue, old man, but then I guess neither of us has ever had much tolerance for small talk when it came to business. Very well, I'll come straight to the point."
He shot a quick glance around the room, then leaned forward, lowering his voice-
"I have a proposition for you. Simply put, I want to accompany you on your new assignment."
"That's absurd!"
The words slipped out before Hakiem had a chance to consider them. He did, however, have time to consider Jubal's sudden scowl at their impact.
"What's absurd about it?" the ex-slaver demanded harshly. "Is my company so repellent to you, or my advice so worthless that ..."
"No!" the storyteller interrupted hastily. "I meant you already have everything here in Sanctuary ... money, power ... what possible reason could you have for even considering giving it all up to travel to a foreign land, one where you are unknown and would have to start building again from nothing? rAof's what I meant was absurd . . - the whole idea's preposterous."
He gave a bitter snort, reaching for his tankard.
"It's preposterous for anybody to willingly give up their life ... to gamble everything on the unknown. IfIhad a choice ... but I don't. I have to go ... for the prince, for the Beysa, for Sanctuary, What's the comfort of one old storyteller compared to that?"
"It depends on how highly you value what you're leaving," Jubal said easily, ignoring Hakiem's self-pitying comments. "It's strange that you should think I have everything here, but then you've always taken for granted the one thing that's always eluded me."
"And that is ... ?" Hakiem urged, curious in spite of himself.
"Respect." The crime lord shrugged. "I thought I had it when I won my freedom from the gladiator arena, only to find polite society viewed me as little better than an animal. I couldn't find work that would earn me the kind of money necessary for the kind of life-style I aspired to, so I took to stealing it."
"And earned a certain type of respect in the process." The storyteller smiled.
Jubal frowned at him. "Don't patronize me, Hakiem," he said. "It ill becomes you. I have never been respected in this town. Feared, to be sure, but we both know that's different than being respected. You can't buy respect, or force it at sword point. You have to earn it."
"So why not earn it here?" Hakiem frowned.
"Do you think I haven't tried?" The ex-slaver grimaced. "The trouble here is that too many people know me of old, and that knowledge makes them assume the worst. I'll tell you, just as an example, I've been trying for months to get an audience with your prince."
"Kadakithis? What business could you have with him?"
Jubal shot a glance around, then leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"I was going to offer him the services of my intelligence network. It's worked well enough for my criminal activities in the past, and I thought he might appreciate its value as an aid for governing this town."
"And he refused?" Hakiem frowned. "That doesn't sound like the prince."
"I never got to see him," the crime lord said. "It seems the consensus among those who control the prince's schedule is that the only way I will see him is if he presides at my trial, I tried more roundabout methods, applying leverage to a certain ... 'friend' of the prince's who is unknown to most, but even there I was thwarted. Everyone believes it's better to buy me off than to go along with whatever I suggest or request. It's become clear to me that my organization will be more effective and be more acceptable if I disassociate myself from it- That's why I'm interested in accompanying you."
It occurred to the storyteller that, by employing dubious methods in his efforts to gain respectability, Jubal was proving everything his enemies believed about him. He also realized, however, that the ex-slaver had a quick temper, and that it would be wisest not to argue with him. Prematurely aged or not, the ex-gladiator was a force to be reckoned with when it came to disputes of a violent nature.
"Do you expect it will be any easier to find respect in the Beysib Empire, surrounded by a people who are physically different than us?" he asked, tactfully shifting the focus of the conversation.
"Who knows?" Jubal shrugged. "It can't be any worse than here. At least there I won't be carrying my past around my neck like a leper's bell. It will be a fresh start for me in a land where no one knows or cares anything about what I've been or done before."
"Of course, that also means they have no idea of what to guard against either," Hakiem observed drily.
The slaver flashed a quick grin in response.
"A land of opportunity, no matter how you look at it."
"Not if those opportunities cause problems for the ambassador," the storyteller warned. "I can't have a ... Excuse me, what capacity were you proposing you accompany me in, anyway?"
"I had been thinking of traveling as your personal manservant," Jubal said, "but I'm open to other suggestions. I imagine that, whatever my official capacity, I will be serving as a confidential advisor to you."
Hakiem's eyebrows shot up.
"Advisor? Excuse me, but I didn't think you knew any more about the Beysib than I do."
"Think again, old man." The crime lord chuckled darkly. "Your battlefield of choice is the courts with carefully chosen words and arguments. My arena is the back alleys, gathering information from the sorts either ignored or hunted by your aristocrats. If anyone, you should know the value of a bit of street-level information when operating in a new town."
The storyteller stared thoughtfully, seriously considering Jubal's proposal for the first time. It was true that the crime lord would be a valuable ally ... especially if none of the Beysib knew to watch or suspect what appeared to be an aged servant. Still, it was hard to believe Jubal was willing to take part in such a venture, much less accept a role subservient to Hakiem.
As if sensing the storyteller's hesitation, the ex-slaver pressed on.
"There's another thing which can make me a priceless secret weapon, old man."
"And that is ... ?"
Jubal leaned forward, grinning smugly as he whispered.
"I've built an immunity to the bite of those snakes the Beysib women favor so."
"You have?" Hakiem's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't know that was possible ... except for those who were conditioned from birth, that is."
"It's a secret that cost me dear." The crime lord smiled. "Far dearer than obtaining the solvent for the latest witches' brew of glue going round town. More important, I'm willing to share that secret with you if you'll include me in your plans."
"Me? I really don't think that's necessary ... though I appreciate the offer. I've gotten used to having the snakes around, and they're harmless as long as you give them lots of room."
Jubal stared at him for a few moments, then shook his head ruefully.