FORTY-TWO
From the shadows of an alleyway, Rag stared at the entrance to the little tavern. It seemed to be taunting her, like it knew she was scared.
Come on then. What you waiting for?
Rag just sat in the dark, watching. She was good at that; had made a skill of it over the years. On the streets where she’d learned her trade it was almost as important as being a fast picker. Sometimes she’d sit for hours just watching — sizing up the best punters for the pinch. There was no point just rushing into it like a bulldog, risking getting caught for a few measly coppers. Having a keen eye for a fat purse could save you a lot of time and effort. Hells, it could save your life too. In such a tricky business as hers, brains beat speed and brawn every day of the week.
But is it gonna help you now, Rag? Is it gonna save your neck this time or have you just been a bit too bloody clever for your own good?
Kaira had given her the chance to avoid all this. Right at the start she had said she’d take care of Rag, and she was true to her word. It wasn’t enough for Rag, though, was it? Nothing was ever enough.
What would she do anyway, living in a barracks with a bunch of knights? Weren’t no kind of life she wanted. Rag had always wanted to make something of herself. That was never gonna happen being lackey to some warrior woman.
Now though, as she sat staring at that door, it didn’t seem like a half-bad option.
At least you’d be alive, Rag. You’d get to survive. If that’s enough?
Survival had never been enough for Rag. That was why she’d joined the Guild in the first place. That was why she’d risked her neck to come this far. Weren’t no point turning back now.
You never did make things easy for yourself, did you, Rag?
She moved quick across the empty street and tried the door, half expecting it to be locked. It wasn’t, and the handle turned easy as ever. The door gave a little creak as she opened it, but there was nothing she could do about that now. The raised voices from inside told her it didn’t matter, anyhow. No one would hear.
Rag crept inside and shut the door behind her. She recognised the voices arguing in the bar and before she got round the corner she stopped to listen.
‘We shouldn’t fucking be here.’ That was Shirl, all shrill and scared like a little girl.
‘Where the fuck we gonna go?’ said Yarrick, annoyed, like he’d heard Shirl’s moaning one too many times.
‘He’s right,’ said Essen, his voice sounding strange after having his nose flattened in that dark alleyway the night before. ‘We stay here we’re fugging dead for sure. Bastian’s gonna come in and he’s gonna have some questions we just can’t fugging answer.’
‘There ain’t nowhere we can run to they won’t find us,’ said Yarrick. ‘Runnin’s only gonna make us look guilty.’
‘We are fucking guilty,’ said Shirl. ‘We let them take him like we was nothing.’
‘They were trained,’ Essen replied. ‘Weren’t nothing we could do. You saw what that woman did to Harkas.’
Rag peered round the corner and saw the lads were crouched around the embers of the fire, Harkas standing back a ways staring into the flames.
‘So what the fuck are we gonna do?’ asked Shirl like he was almost in tears.
None of them seemed to have any answer. None of them had a clue what to do now Friedrik was gone and they were the ones that had lost him.
‘We do nothing,’ said Rag, walking into the room as confident as she could.
The lads all stood up at her arrival. Harkas just looked around all slow like he’d known she was there all along.
‘Where the fuck have you been?’ asked Shirl.
‘Never mind where the fuck I’ve been,’ Rag said. ‘Start thinking about our story and how we’re gonna stick to it.’ The fat man looked at her like she’d slapped him but said nothing. ‘If Bastian finds out we’ve lost Friedrik every one of us is gonna end up in the Storway with a rock round his neck. So we just don’t tell him. Friedrik’s fucked off before without telling anyone. No one knows where he goes or who he’s with, so that’s what’s happened this time. He left last night; no one’s seen him since. All right?’
Yarrick, Shirl and Essen all looked at her from beneath creased brows. Harkas watched her, his expression blank. It was clear they’d need a moment or two to think on it, and Rag just glared back, looking like she knew what she was on about. Like she’d tried to dupe the leader of the Guild before, and come out on top.
‘This’ll get us all killed,’ said Shirl.
‘No it won’t.’ Yarrick replied. ‘She’s right — no one knows we were with him when he got nabbed. We should just sit tight and wait for someone to come looking for him.’
Yarrick glanced over at Essen who said, ‘Yeah. You’re right.’
‘Are you fucking barmy?’ wailed Shirl. ‘We’re just gonna sit here and wait for them to come for us because she fucking says so?’ He pointed an accusing finger at Rag.
Yarrick looked at Shirl like he’d just done a shit on his chair. ‘She’s the reason you’re still breathing, lad. Wasn’t for her we’d have had to leave you in a ditch to die somewhere.’
That was enough to shut Shirl’s mouth for a while.
Essen went and got some more logs for the fire, and the five of them sat there waiting for morning. Rag’s heart was thumping all the while, wondering what was gonna happen. Wondering if she’d done the right thing. This crew weren’t the cleverest, or even the friendliest, but she didn’t want to see them hurt on her account. Well, not all of them. Every now and again, as the night drew on, she’d see Harkas watching her from the corner of the room. She had no idea what was going on in that head of his, but then she wasn’t too sure she wanted to know neither.
It was close to morning when the door burst open.
Palien wasn’t the first one to walk in. He had men of his own — men who looked a damn sight more frightening than Shirl, Essen and Yarrick. Every one of them looked more like Harkas, though maybe not quite as brutal. They came in, taking their places around the edge of the bar like they already knew where to stand; where the best place was to look all intimidating. Rag counted six of them before Palien walked in, a wolf smile on his face, his hawk eyes glaring straight at her. He pulled a chair across the floor, like he was relishing the scraping noise it made. When he’d slid it as close to Rag as it would go he plonked down on it, his elbows resting on the chair’s backrest.
‘Where is he?’ said Palien, staring straight at her.
‘Who?’ she replied.
Who? Don’t be an idiot, Rag. It’s obvious who he means.
‘Don’t play me for a fool, little girl,’ Palien said. As she looked at him she noticed he never seemed to blink. That wasn’t right, surely. ‘We both know you’re his little pet. He doesn’t go anywhere without you knowing.’
‘I don’t know where he is. He left last night, went off on his own like he does sometimes. We ain’t seen him since, have we?’
She glanced around, relieved when the lads all backed her up with their nodding heads, but it was obvious Palien weren’t interested in their opinion.
‘You expect me to believe that, do you, girl? You think he’d go somewhere without taking his little dolly with him?’
‘He goes off on his own all the ti-’
‘Don’t fucking lie to me!’ Palien stood up, flinging his chair out from under him. ‘Where the fuck is he?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Rag, pressing herself back in her chair but Palien reached forward, grabbed her shirt and pulled her up onto her feet.
‘Tell me where he is or I’ll gut you right here, I swear.’
Rag saw Palien’s eyes glaring down from that face, saw his stupid moustache twitching with anger. Her hands were up as she tried to push him away and he shook her. It was then her hand slipped down to his belt and she could feel the coinpurse at his waist. It was full, secured with a single buckle, and it would be nothing to just open it and take his coin.