Sylvanus Olivios Andrassus shambled forward, and put his empty hand on Jean’s shoulder. “Stupid boy,” he said. “I need you to let me have … five royals … just until Penance Day. Oh, gods …”
He went down to one knee and threw up. Jean’s reflexes were sharp enough to save everything except one of his shoes.
“Fuck me!” said Jean.
“Oh no, I assure you, that is quite out of the question,” said Sylvanus. He attempted several times to stumble back to his feet, then once again noticed the remaining bottle in his hand, and began to suckle at it contentedly.
“Look, sorry about this,” said the woman who’d been watching as she emerged from the shadows. She was tall, dark-skinned, and wearing a shawl over her hair. Her fellow spectator was a thin young Therin man just a few years older than the Gentlemen Bastards. “Sylvanus has what you might call rare ambition in the field of self-degradation.”
“Are you the Moncraine Company?” said Locke.
“Who wants to know?” said the woman hesitantly.
“I’m Lucaza de Barra,” said Locke. “This is my cousin, Jovanno de Barra. And this is our friend Verena Gallante.” When this elicited no response, Locke cleared his throat. “We’re Moncraine’s new players. The ones from Camorr.”
“Oh, sweet gods above,” said the woman. “You’re real.”
“Yeah,” said Locke. “And, uh, wet and confused.”
“We thought— Well, look, we didn’t think you existed. We thought Moncraine was making you up!”
“Took ten slow days in a wagon to get here,” said Jean. “Let me assure you, nobody made us up.”
“I’m Jenora,” said the woman. “And this is Alondo—”
“Alondo Razi,” said the young man. “Weren’t there supposed to be more of you?”
“The Asino brothers are minding the wagon, back around the corner,” said Locke. “So, we’re flesh and blood. I guess the next question is, does Jasmer Moncraine exist?”
“Moncraine,” muttered Sylvanus. “Wouldn’t shit on his head to give him … shade from the sun.”
“Moncraine,” said Jenora, “is why Sylvanus is … um … making a clean break from sobriety at the moment.”
“Moncraine’s in the Weeping Tower,” said Alondo.
“What’s that?” said Jean.
“The most secure prison in Espara. It’s Countess’ Dragoons on the doors, not city watch.”
“Aw, hell’s blistered balls,” said Locke. “He already got taken up for debt?”
“Debt?” said Jenora. “No, he never got the chance to be hauled in for all that mess. He decked some pissant lordling across the jaw this morning. He’s up for assaulting someone of noble blood.”
CHAPTER SIX
THE FIVE-YEAR GAME: CHANGE OF VENUE
1
“FOURTHSON VIDALOS,” SAID Josten. “Would that your parents had stopped at their third! How many nights have you spent leaning against my bar, eh? How many times have I brought you in out of the rain for a glass? You two-faced son of a—”
“For the gods’ sakes,” said Vidalos, “Do you think I wanted this? It’s my duty!”
“In front of half the Konseil and the entire Deep Roots—”
“Josten,” said Locke, stepping between the innkeeper and Vidalos, “let’s talk. Herald, how do you do? I’m Lazari, an advisor.”
“Whose advisor?”
“Everyone’s advisor. I’m a solicitor from Lashain, retained in a broad capacity. I require a moment in private with Master Josten, to discuss his options.”
“I don’t see that he has any,” said Vidalos.
“Do you have orders to refuse us a few minutes for reflection?” said Locke.
“Of course not.”
“Then I’ll thank you not to enforce orders you haven’t been given.” Locke put an arm firmly around Josten’s shoulders, turned the sputtering innkeeper away from the herald, and whispered, “Josten, one thing. Are you absolutely certain your license is truly paid up?”
“I have a signed receipt in my papers. I could fetch it now and shove it up this powder-blue pimp’s ass! Until tonight, I would’ve called the bastard a good friend, on my honor. I never would’ve thought—”
“Don’t think,” said Locke. “I’m paid to do that for you. Herald Vidalos isn’t your enemy. It’s whoever summoned him to work and gave him a warrant that somehowurgently needed to be served at half past the tenth hour of the evening, do you follow?”
“Ah,” said Josten. “ Ahhhhhhh.”
“We shouldn’t abuse the poor bastard whose boots are on the pavement,” said Locke. “Our troubles come from higher offices. Nikoros, get over here! Look at this seal and signature.”
“Capability Peralis,” said Nikoros. Sweat ran down his forehead in glistening lines. “Second clerk, Magistrates’ Court. I’ve heard of her.”
“She wouldn’t need an actual magistrate to sign this?” said Locke.
“No,” said Nikoros, “magistrates only sign off on, uh, arrests.”
“And this,” said Locke, “is just a little sting in the ass. Is she Black Iris? Or any of her superiors?”
“Not according to my lists,” said Nikoros. “Most of the people at the court make a point of not, uh, not declaring for either party.”
“Well, someone got her to perform a favor.” Locke suddenly became aware that most of the party, rank on tipsy rank, were watching closely to see if their mountain of fine liquor was really to be severed from them on the word of a single nervous functionary. “I don’t suppose Konseil members can just order Vidalos to make himself scarce?”
“Magistrates are, ah, co-equal with the Konseil,” said Nikoros. “Their heralds don’t have t-to take orders from anyone else.”
“Well, our drunk friends are going to hang this poor bastard from the rafters if I let this go through.” Locke turned back to Herald Vidalos, grinning broadly. “Everything seems to be perfectly in order!”
“It gives me little satisfaction,” said Vidalos.
“I’d have thought you’d be happy,” said Locke, “since there’s absolutely no need for you to shut down the party.”
“Having delivered the warrant,” said Vidalos, “it pains me to report that I’m bound to carry out my directions therein; I have to observe that Master Josten has ended this affair and sealed his doors to new customers.”
“Begging your pardon, but you’re not allowed to do anything of the sort,” said Locke. “That’s premature restraint of trade, which is forbidden under the Articles of Karthain. Whoever signed this warrant should have known that Josten is entitled, by law, to verification of these charges before a magistrate—”
“But—”
“Prior to interruption of commerce!” continued Locke. “Look, this is fairly basic stuff from that amendment business about, what—twenty years ago.”
“I … really?” Vidalos’ face lost some of its plum color. “Are you quite sure? I’m not entirely familiar with that. And I have served a number of similar—”
“I’m fully bonded for practice in Karthain. Imposition of penalty without proper verification of these charges would expose you to censure for negligence, the penalties for which could be … well, of course youknow what they could be. Let’s not dwell on them.”
“Um … ,” said Vidalos. “Uh, of course.”
“So, you’ve served your warrant in front of the most credible body of witnesses the city could hope to produce. I accept the warrant on Josten’s behalf and formally request a magistrate’s verification of its charges. Since we can’t possibly have that until at least tomorrow morning, the party must continue.”