"See to it," he told the man. "You will find the sum in the left locker, bottom. Pay him in pieces of ten. Then escort Mister Puddles from our good ship and send a pair of crewmen along to get him safely off the docks."
Micanty could hardly believe what he was hearing, but he wasn't about to argue with the dangerous wizard. He took Josi Puddles by the arm and left the room.
When he returned a short while later, he found Robillard leaning over his crystal ball, studying the image intently.
"You believe him," Micanty stated. "Enough to pay him without any proof."
"A hundred copper pieces is not so great a sum," Robillard replied.
"Copper?" Micanty replied. "It was gold by my own eyes."
"So it seemed," the wizard explained, "but it was copper, I assure you, and coins that I can trace easily to find our Mister Puddles-to punish him if necessary, or to properly reward him if his information proves true."
"He did not come to us searching for any reward," the observant Micanty remarked. "Nor is he any friend of Captain Deudermont, surely. No, it seems to me that our friend Puddles isn't overly fond of Wulfgar or this Morik fellow."
Robillard glanced in his crystal ball again, then leaned back in his chair, thinking.
"Have you found the captain?" Micanty dared to ask.
"I have," the wizard answered. "Come, see this."
When Micanty got near to Robillard, he saw the scene in the crystal ball shift from Luskan's streets to a ship somwhere out on the open ocean. "The captain?" he said with concern.
"No, no," Robillard replied. "Wulfgar, perhaps, or at least his magical warhammer. I know of the weapon. It was described to me in depth. Thinking that it would show me Wulfgar, my magical search took me to this boat, Leaping Lady by name."
"Pirate?"
"Likely," the wizard answered. "If Wulfgar is indeed on her, we shall likely meet up with the man again. Though, if he is, our friend Puddles's story seems a bit unlikely."
"Can you call to the captain?" Micanty asked, still concerned. "Bring him home?"
"He'd not listen," Robillard said with a smirk. "Some things our stubborn Captain Deudermont must learn for himself. I will watch him closely. Go and secure the ship. Double the guard, triple it even, and tell every man to watch the shadows closely. If there are, indeed, some determined to assassinate Captain Deudermont, they might believe him to be here."
Robillard was alone again, and he turned to the crystal ball, returning the image to Captain Deudermont. He sighed in disappointment. He expected as much, but he was still sad to discover that the captain had again traveled to the rougher section of town. As Robillard focused in on him again, Deudermont passed under the sign for Half-Moon Street.
*****
Had Robillard been able to better scan the wide area, he might have noticed two figures slipping into an alley paralleling the avenue Deudermont had just entered.
Creeps Sharky and Tee-a-nicknick rushed along, then cut down an alley, emerging onto Half-Moon Street right beside the Cutlass. They dashed inside, for Sharky was convinced that was where Deudermont was headed. The pair took the table in the corner to the right of the door, evicting the two patrons sitting there with threatening growls. They sat back, ordering drinks from Delly Curtie. Their smug smiles grew wider when Captain Deudermont walked through the door, making his way to the bar.
"He no stay long witout Wufgar here," Tee-a-nicknick remarked.
Creeps considered that, deciphered the words first, then the thought behind them and nodded. He had a fair idea of where Wulfgar and Morik might be. A comrade had spotted them along the dock area earlier that night. "Keep a watch on him," Creeps instructed. He held up a pouch he had prepared earlier, then started to leave.
"Too easy," Tee-a-nicknick remarked, reiterating his complaints about the plan Creeps had former earlier that day.
"Aye, but that's the beauty of it, my friend," said Creeps, "Morik's too cocky and too curious to cast it away. No, he'll have it, he will, and it'll bring him runnin' to us all the faster."
Creeps went out into the night and scanned the street. He had little trouble locating one of the many street children who lurked in the area, serving as lookouts or couriers.
" 'Ere boy," he called to one. The waif, a lad of no more than ten winters, eyed him suspiciously but did not approach. "Got a job for ye," Creeps explained, holding up the bag.
The boy made his way tentatively toward the dangerous-looking pirate.
"Take this," Creeps instructed, handing the little bag over. "And don't look in it!" he commanded when the boy started to loosen the top to peek inside.
Creeps had a change of mind immediately, realizing that the waif might then think there was something special in the bag-gold or magic-and might just run off with it. He pulled it back from the boy and tugged it open, revealing its contents: a few small claws, like those from a cat, a small vial filled with a clear liquid, and a seemingly unremarkable piece of stone.
"There, ye seen it, and so ye're knowin' it's nothing worth stealin'," Creeps said.
"I'm not for stealin'," the boy argued.
"Course ye're not," said Creeps with a knowing chuckle. "Ye're a good boy, now ain't ye? Well, ye know o' one called Wulfgar? A big fellow with yellow hair who used to beat up people for Arumn at the Cutlass?"
The boy nodded.
"And ye know his friend?"
"Morik the Rogue," the boy recited. "Everybody's knowin' Morik."
"Good enough for ye," said Creeps. "They're down at the docks, or between here and there, by my guess. I want ye to find 'em and give this to Morik. Tell him and Wulfgar that a Captain Deudermont's lookin' to meet them outside the Cutlass. Somethin' about a big hammer. Can ye do that?"
The boy smirked as if the question were ridiculous.
"And will ye do it?" Creeps asked. He reached into a pocket and produced a silver piece. Creeps started to hand it over, then changed his mind, and his hand went in again, coming back out with several of the glittering silver coins. "Ye get yer little friends lookin' all over Luskan," he instructed, handing the coins to the wide eyed waif. "There'll be more for ye, don't ye doubt, if ye bring Wulfgar and Morik to the Cutlass."
Before Creeps could say another word, the boy snatched the coins, turned, and disappeared into the alleyway.
Creeps was smiling when he rejoined Tee-a-nicknick a few moments later, confident that the lad and the extensive network of street urchins he would tap would complete the task in short order.
"He just wait," Tee-a-nicknick explained, motioning to Deudermont, who stood leaning on the bar, sipping a glass of wine.
"A patient man," said Creeps, flashing that green-and-yellow toothy smile. "If he knew how much time he got left to live, he might be a bit more urgent, he might." He motioned to Tee-a-nicknick to exit the Cutlass. They soon found a low rooftop close enough to afford them a fine view of the tavern's front door.
Tee-a-nicknick pulled a long hollow tube out of the back of his shirt, then took a cat's claw, tied with a small clutch of feathers, from his pocket. Kneeling low and moving very carefully, the tattooed half-qullan savage turned his right hand palm up, then, taking the cat's claw in his left hand, squeezed a secret packet on the bracelet about his right wrist. Slowly, slowly, the tattooed man increased the pressure until the packet popped open and a drop of molasseslike syrup oozed out. He caught most of it on the tip of the cat's claw, then stuffed the dart into the end of his blowgun.
"Tee-a-nicknick patient man, too," he said with a wicked grin.
Chapter 8 WARM FEELINGS
"Oh, look at you!" Biaste Ganderlay exclaimed when she moved to help Meralda put on the new gown Lord Feringal had sent for their dinner that night. Only then, only after Meralda had taken off the bunched-collar shift she had been wearing all the day, did her mother see the extent of her bruises, distinct purple blotches all about her neck and shoulders, bigger marks than the two showing on her face. "You can't be going to see lord Feringal looking so," Biaste wailed. "What'll he think of you?"