"All we want is our money," someone called from the door of the shop. "If we get it back he can go."
"There, you see?"
The thief lifted his purse. "I had seven bits of my own," he said miserably.
The guardsman released his grip on the man's tunic. "We'll leave you four, if that's all right." He reached for the purse.
"Three bits to avoid a flogging?" someone called from the crowd. "What a bargain!"
"Good enough," the thief said. He handed over the little leather pouch.
"You should probably stay out of this gaming house for a few sixnights," the guardsman said, as he spilled coins out onto his hand – mostly copper, but Emmis saw the unmistakable glint of silver, as well. The soldier plucked one triangular copper piece from the little pile and popped it into his own purse, then counted out four more and returned them to the bag, which he handed back to its owner. "In fact, I'd be careful about this whole block. I'm sure you understand."
"Yes."
"Then you can go."
The guard straightened up, and watched as the thief turned and ran, past Emmis and Lar. Two young men burst from the shop door and trotted over eagerly. The soldier turned and dumped the remaining coins into the first man's outstretched hands. "You two split that up," he said. "And I'd recommend playing somewhere else tonight."
"Yes, sir," the pair chorused.
That business attended to, the guardsman started to turn away, but Emmis reached out. "Excuse me, sir," he said.
Startled, the soldier turned, one hand falling to the truncheon on his belt.
"I'm Emmis of Shiphaven," Emmis said, "and this is Lar Samber's son, from the Empire of Vond, and we could use your help. Someone's trying to kill us."
The guard frowned. "Why?"
"It's a political thing, from back home," Lar said. "I never thought they would dare try anything here in Ethshar!"
The guard studied Lar's hat, which was definitely not anything he would normally see on the city streets – certainly not on Games Street, at any rate. "You're sure?"
"Sure of what?" Lar asked.
"That they're trying to kill you."
"Yes!" Emmis said. "They broke into our house, and one of them took a swing at me with this… this sword-thing."
The guardsman stared at him for a moment, then glanced back at the door of the gambling hall. He sighed. "Wait here," he said. He turned and marched to the door, where he bellowed inside, "Hai, Kelder! Send someone up to the camp and tell the Lieutenant I'm investigating a break-in. You're on your own until either I get back, or he posts a replacement – but don't worry, I'll take it as a personal insult if anyone tries anything while I'm gone. A very personal insult. And you all remember what happened to Terrek when he insulted me."
There was a muffled chorus of acknowledgment; then the guard turned back to Lar and Emmis. "Let's go," he said.
Lar hesitated, looking up at the guard's face, then over at Emmis, as if asking him a silent question.
Emmis had no idea what the question was, so he merely looked impatient, and gestured for them to go.
They went.
The three of them headed west on Games Street at a brisk pace; as they made the turn onto Arena Street, Emmis could not resist asking, "What did happen to Terrek?"
"They think he'll be able to walk again by Festival," the soldier said. "Sooner, if he can afford a magician to heal his legs. Which he can't, after paying for the other damage."
Emmis decided he didn't need further details.
"As long as we're telling each other things, suppose you two tell me what happened to make you think someone's trying to kill you."
Lar and Emmis exchanged glances. Then Lar said, "I think this one is for you to tell."
Emmis sighed. "Lar, here, hired me as his local guide, right on the Shiphaven docks, as soon as his ship tied up," he said. "I found a house he could rent, in Allston – that's where we're going. He's here representing the Empire of Vond in… well, in things I don't know about, as they aren't my business, but apparently some of Vond's neighbors aren't happy about it. I met these four foreigners at an inn over in Shiphaven, and they paid me to tell them what he was up to, and I didn't see that it could do any harm." He hesitated.
"I didn't mind," Lar said. "He didn't know anything secret."
"So I talked to them, and then I saw one of them following us when we were in the Wizards' Quarter last night," Emmis continued. "And today I was back at the inn, the Crooked Candle on Commission Street – I'd been visiting my family in Shiphaven, and stopped in, and there was one of the foreigners, the Merchant she said her name was, from Ashthasa, and she told me they'd hired an assassin to kill Lar. I ran back to the house to warn him, even though I thought it was probably too late, but it wasn't, because his business in the Wizards' Quarter took longer than anyone had expected. And when I got to the house, these two men were waiting for me, one on the street out front, and one already inside the house, and when I opened the front door they both came for me. I got inside and slammed the door before the one on the street could get in, and then ducked when the one inside swung his walking stick at my head. And the end came off the stick, and it had a knife-blade inside, but where I'd ducked under it I was able to knock him down before he could stab me and run out the back door and slip away. Then I came to the Wizards' Quarter to find Lar, and then we started along Games Street to Camptown, and found you."
"You said the house is in Allston?"
"On Through Street, half a block northeast of Arena."
"So how long ago did this attack take place? That's a bit of a walk."
Emmis suddenly realized he had no idea what time it was. He looked up; the sky was dark enough for the first stars to be appearing, but neither moon was visible, so he couldn't use the lesser moon's crescent to estimate the hour. "The sun hadn't set yet when it happened," he said.
"Then it's been a good hour, at the very least," the soldier said. "Chances are that whoever it was fled the place long ago."
"Oh," Emmis replied. He had to admit that the man was probably right. "But they might come back," he said, "or they might be watching the house."
"That's true, and one of your neighbors might have seen something, so I'll come take a look, but I'm not expecting much to come of it. If it's true your foreign friends have hired assassins, I'd suggest you keep a very good watch. Hire yourself some bodyguards, perhaps. Maybe sleep somewhere else for a few nights."
The three walked on in silence for a moment as Lar and Emmis considered this. As they neared the Arena Lar said to Emmis, "Maybe we should find you a sword."
"What? I'm a dockworker, not a soldier!"
"You've got the build of a fighter," the guardsman remarked.
"A brawler, maybe, not a swordsman! I've never held a sword in my life!"
"No one's expecting you to take up fencing," Lar said. "I just thought it might discourage intruders."
"You do look like a fighter," the guard agreed. "Usually, that's all it takes. No one wants to take on a man with a sword – you can't tell by looking whether he knows how to use it or not."
"You aren't carrying a sword," Emmis pointed out.
"That's because I don't want to kill anyone," the soldier replied calmly. "If the red kilt and breastplate aren't enough to warn someone off, a sword probably wouldn't do it, either." He patted his truncheon. "A whack on the head with this will take a man down, but he'll probably still be able to get up the next morning, and I won't have to apologize to his grieving family. Not to mention I'm less likely to get blood everywhere. And it's easier to use in a crowd."