Kam peered inside. There was a lamp on the table in the centre of the room, illuminating a woman clad in a long cloak, her hood still raised, seated by a small black stove, and a few stacked boxes. The warmth from the stove made him ache to go straight in, but he was careful to take a second good look round the room first. When they did enter the man lost no time in closing the door behind them.
He gestured towards the boxes. 'Sit.'
Kam froze at the change in the man's voice; the polite veneer had fallen away; now he was unmistakeably a nobleman used to having his orders obeyed instantly.
And what's changed? Just the woman — and a dog wants to perform well in front of its mistress. Interesting. He looked at his companion and they sank down onto the boxes as ordered. The nobleman stood at the door with his hand on his sword, and that told Kam what he needed to know. Dog's on guard now, but who uses a nobleman as messenger boy? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…
'Jendel Kam and Litt Boren, my Lady.'
'Gentlemen,' the woman began, 'please don't be alarmed by the theatrics.' Her face was in darkness, carefully hidden from the lamp's light.
'Why not?' Kam replied gruffly, ignoring the slight shift of feet from the door. He wrinkled his scarred nose; the lady's scent mingled incongruously with stale sweat and old pipe smoke. 'Don't get me wrong; I don't want trouble, but I don't like it when I can't see the face of the person I'm talking to, and that goes double when I don't know why I'm sneaking around a strange city at night.'
'Perfectly understandable,' she replied smoothly, but she made no move to reveal her identity. 'You're here because you were given money to be here, and because you were promised a job.'
'That's right enough, and so what I want to know is what sort of job this is,' Kam said equably. 'We're not mercenaries, nor thieves or assassins, so why come to us?'
'Because I do have a job for you, and it's one only a fool would take.'
'Calling us fools?' Boren growled, until Kam put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder.
'So what sort of fool you looking for?' Kam asked.
'What use does anyone have for a fool?'
Kam resisted the urge to scowl himself. What he hated most about nobles was the way they kept their voices level, emotionless; those practised tones they used to hide whatever they were thinking. It made them sound infuriatingly arrogant, whether they intended that or not. 'So what're you looking for?' he repeated.
'Men with reason enough to act the fool,' she said.
'Enough of this, can you not just say it plain?'
The woman turned slightly towards the man at the door. Something passed between them, Kam had no idea what, but she slipped off her hood to reveal the face of a middle-aged woman with deep lines around her eyes. Her hair was cut short and her only concession to jewellery was a milky pearl pendant on a thick silver chain. Around her throat was tied a red ribbon of mourning.
'I hope you'll forgive me if I spend a little time gauging the sort of men I'm talking to before revealing all my secrets,' she said quietly.
Kam blinked in surprise. Her voice was strained; in her reproach he detected the waver of someone so close to the end of their tether that not even years of upbringing could mask all emotion.
'That's fair,' he replied quickly, 'but we ain't got the advantage here. I'm guessing you know our names and where we come from and — now I don't mean to offend, just bein' honest — compared to us you're a powerful woman, so there's an unspoken threat there in that alone.'
'You think I've brought you here to threaten you?'
'No, but it's there all the same.' Kam raised a placating hand. 'I'm just stating how I see the Land; I'm poor and you're not. If you have a job for me, there's risk involved and you're willing to pay for that, but you're not looking to be refused.'
'I hope my information about you would be more accurate than that,' she said, keeping her proud nose raised for a few more moments before the effort defeated her and she seemed to sag in her seat. 'I acknowledge what you say as the truth, though I didn't want to go so far as describe it that way. You're right, I cannot afford for you to refuse me, and I have associates willing to retaliate if anything should happen to me.' Her tired eyes flicked up again. 'But I hope it will not come to that, so let me lay my offer before you: twenty gold crowns for each of you and your men, in addition to an assurance that every village they are drawn from will receive increased protection for the foreseeable future.'
Kam didn't trust himself to reply immediately. The fee was immense — no one in his village could hope to earn twenty gold crowns in a year — but it was her last statement that clinched it. Whatever his objections, they would all take the job. Protection for the village was something they couldn't easily buy with gold, especially since there would be questions about how they obtained so much money.
'Crowns are no use to us; commoners don't get paid in gold, only thieves,' Boren pointed out, voicing one of Kam's concerns.
She smiled wryly; that was the least of the problems. 'So let us say four hundred silver crescents then.'
Kam nodded. 'That'll do. But for that sort of money there's a good chance we all die, and money don't help my family if it's taken off my corpse.'
'I will send a man to replace one in your group, a vassal of mine. You can send your man back with whatever money you wish, and my associate here will deliver whatever's left. But send any young men amongst you home; this is not a job for the young.'
Again Kam heard the emotion in her voice, and he suddenly realised her words struck to the heart of the matter. Oh Qods, could this be who 1 think it is?
'Still don't want to be a corpse, rich one or not,' Kam said, Boren nodding sternly alongside him.
'I understand that,' the lady said, 'and yet I expect many, if not all of you, to die before the job is over.'
'What sort of offer is that?' spluttered Boren, looking about to rise and walk out until Kam eased his bristle-haired friend back onto his box.
'I think I understand,' Kam said slowly, 'but how can we trust you in this? There's no reason for you to let any of us live, or for you to contact our villages ever again once we're dead. If your friend delivers the money there's a trail back to you, and that's something you can't afford.'
'How can you trust me? You can't, I suppose, but I think you know how you can believe I'll keep to my word on this.' She sighed. 'You've guessed who I am, and that trail you spoke of hardly matters now.'
Ignoring Boren's puzzled expression, Kam thought for a while, trying to piece everything together in his mind. He controlled the sudden surge of revulsion he felt in his heart.
'With due apologies, folk aren't saying good things about you;' he pointed out. 'Your word might yet be worth nothing.'
Not saying good things? the voice of his younger self screamed in his mind, you fucking bitch-whore traitor, you want to drag me down with you, have my name cursed alongside yours, maybe even send me to the Dark Place to see what welcome awaits you?
He said nothing more, but both his fists were clenched tight, as though desperately fighting the urge to pull his knife.
Poor 1 might be, traitor I'm damn well not… And yet…
And yet I've got a family and barely enough to feed them through the winter, and there are rumours of more Elven attacks when the summer comes. We barely survived last time; those army outriders almost caught us last winter. If it hadn't been for Boren's boy chasing after that fool dog we'd not have had any warning-