Giant Thief (24 page)

  Another surprise awaited me when I reached Saltlick's room. Pinned to the curtain was a precisely written note that read:
The giant has been moved to the stables
. A peek through the curtain told me why. As comfortable as the beds might be, they weren't built to take a giant's weight. The grand four-poster was shattered down the middle and the two halves had collapsed in on each other. That explained the crash I'd heard. I couldn't help laughing at the image of Panchetto's servants discovering Saltlick amidst the wreckage. No wonder they'd decided the stables were a safer place for him.

  I spent the next five minutes wandering aimlessly through the warren of the palace. I'd just decided that if I ever became a prince my first commandment would be to have maps placed at regular intervals around my home, when I stumbled over a serving girl carrying a basket of linen nearly as large as herself.

  "Hey there, can you point me to the stables?"

  She stared at me as if I'd asked for directions to the Prince's underwear closet. I suddenly remembered the ring I'd been given. I held my hand in front of her face and said, "I'm a guest. Can you tell me how I get to the stables?"

  She dropped the basket to point down the passage, and stammered, "Down there, third arch on the right, down the stairs, turn left, turn right and keep going all the way to the end, take the next left through the courtyard and they're right ahead."

  I thanked her and followed her outstretched finger, glad of my good memory for directions. The stairs she'd mentioned led down into the nether-regions of the palace, an odorous, noisy dungeon of servants' quarters, kitchens, storerooms and workshops. I felt more at home immediately, and was disconcerted when my new clothes attracted curtsies and bows from the bustling maids and red-faced chefs I passed.

  The courtyard the maid had mentioned turned out to be a small walled garden for the growing of herbs, spices, chillies and a few salad vegetables. An ancient gardener tipped his hat to me and mumbled something incomprehensible.

  Purely out of awkwardness, I asked, "Are those the stables?" even though I'd have had to be blind, deaf and severely lacking a sense of smell not to recognise them as such.

  This was apparently the kind of stupidity expected of passing nobles. He nodded vigorously, grumbled a few more unfathomable syllables, and turned his attentions to a bed of lettuce.

  I didn't have to look hard for Saltlick. He was sat between two great mounds of hay, chewing contentedly, surrounded by a mob of fascinated stable boys.

  "Hello, Saltlick," I said.

  He looked up at me and beamed. He'd also been cleaned up, presumably by the stable staff. His various cuts and scrapes had been bandaged with fresh gauze and linen. He looked as happy as I'd ever seen him, and for the briefest moment I felt a little guilty for what I was about to do.

  I pushed the thought aside. It was Estrada who'd landed us in this mess, and nothing I did could possibly make things worse.

  "Saltlick," I said, "I've decided we're going to go shopping."

• • • •

It was mid afternoon when we set out, with perhaps a couple of hours left until the shops closed their shutters for the day. Just time enough for what I had in mind. I paced ahead, Saltlick trailing behind like some monstrous puppy. Though I hadn't been in Altapasaeda for a while I could still remember my way around. It was an easy place to navigate, with its clearly demarcated regions and countless landmarks. It only took me a few minutes to get back to the upper-class end of the market district.

  Without an entourage of guards to deter attention, we drew more open stares this time. Most of those we passed were well-off Northerners; many drifted southward in the knowledge that their money would go farther in Altapasaeda than in their own lands. The locals treated their odd customs and odder religion with amused indulgence. They were harmless, the Prince made no effort to spread his borders outside the walls, and they frequently had far more money than sense.

  Not all of those around us, however, would be innocent shoppers. It seemed a safe bet we were being followed.

  "I've been thinking, Saltlick," I said loudly. "You can't possibly go for dinner looking the way you do now. Unless you want one of these courtly ladies to die of embarrassment, we need to find you some clothes."

  Saltlick looked alarmed, and nodded.

  I picked out the clothiers with the widest entrance. Still, it was a chore manoeuvring Saltlick inside, and the proprietor looked less than pleased to see us. I waved my ring in his face and cried, "We are guests of the Prince!"

  His expression immediately turned solicitous. He stepped forward and bowed at once.

  "We need to bring my companion here in line with the standards of civilisation," I said. "Do you think you can help?"

  There followed much haggling with the Prince's money. Eventually, and despite his claims that such a thing was impossible, I persuaded the clothier to have my order ready for collection at the end of the day. We'd settled on a loose-fitting robe worn under a wide cloak, both adorned with the modifications I'd insisted on when we were out of Saltlick's earshot. He'd come to see things my way once I'd explained that neither price nor quality was an object. The garments would probably cost more than some in the Prince's own wardrobe, and would be unlikely to last a week. Neither fact mattered to me in the slightest.

  The bargaining had taken longer than I'd have liked, though, and some of the more outrageously priced shops were already closing up. I was lucky to come across my next requirement after only a couple of minutes: a small apothecary nestled in the mouth of an alleyway.

  "A moment," I said, and darted inside as though the thought had just occurred.

  Saltlick eyed the small flask I came out with curiously.

  "For indigestion," I said, displaying the bottle, which had indeed been intended to hold stomach cordial, though its original contents were now in the apothecary's drain. "We've been living on roots and berries these past few days. Mark my words, when we get some rich food inside us the results will be nothing less than interesting."

  Though Saltlick looked puzzled – I doubted there was any food so rich that his cast-iron constitution couldn't handle it – he accepted the explanation.

  "Just one more stop," I said. "I have a debt to settle with a certain riverboat captain."

 

Activity at the harbour was starting to wind down as the day drew towards a close. The chaos we'd witnessed that morning had settled to a bustle of loud arguments, dockers staggering beneath bales of cargo, and carts rattling back and forth with no regard for anyone in the way. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the vessel we'd arrived on still tied where we'd left it, and its captain sat at the stern with his legs dangling over the water, a pipe clamped between his teeth.

  "There he is," I said. "Estrada told me she accidentally underpaid Captain Anterio, and asked if I'd come down to settle the rest. Why don't you wait here? I think the senile old fool is a bit afraid of you."

  Saltlick looked hurt by the implication, but stayed where he was, immediately creating a large island amidst the harbour traffic.

  Sure enough, when the captain glanced in our direction he jumped nervously to his feet. I doubted it had much to do with Saltlick. I was approaching from the direction of the gangplank, and he had nowhere to go except into the river. He looked as though he might be considering it.

  "Captain Anterio," I cried heartily, "no need to be worried."

  "Worried? Me? You're a rogue and a scoundrel, and if I thought I'd caused you an iota of inconvenience I'd dance a jig."

  "No doubt. But you've been misinformed, Captain." I climbed the gangplank and when I was close enough that he could see, displayed the Prince's ring. "Easie Damasco, officer of the Altapasaedan Palace Guard at your service."

  It was a calculated gamble. Anterio's ragged coat told me he'd once served in the City Guard, and it was common knowledge how they worked in dread of the Palace Guard, who were a law only to Panchetto and themselves and wont to interfere in matters of justice on the slightest whim. Anterio stared at me sceptically once his initial shock had worn off, and then pushed his nose very close to the ring to inspect it.

  Before he could say anything I continued, "The woman you gave passage to this morning is the owner of a certain notorious establishment in Muena Palaiya, who's been accused of robbing her clientele in their sleep. A friend of the Prince's had the matter… brought to his attention, shall we say. Since there isn't any law and order in that mud hole we were bringing her to the city for… ah, questioning."

  If Anterio didn't look convinced, I at least had his attention.

  "The giant is what you might call a pet of His Highness. He gets restless cooped up in the palace, so occasionally he's allowed out to assist us." I waved to Saltlick. "He's clever enough for simple tasks, so I asked him to escort the woman while I headed back downriver to attend to another matter. We allowed her to pretend she was in charge to preserve some scrap of dignity. Of course, the old harlot found a way to ruin our plans, and now there are enemies of the Prince carrying on their business unimpeded because I'm stranded here. Well, you couldn't have known."

  "Why didn't you tell me this at the time?"

  "Truth be told, I was glad of the break. The matter I have to attend to is rather unsavoury. Still, I'm only a humble servant of His Highness, and I shouldn't prevaricate much longer."

  "I can't believe it." Though he spoke flatly, it was easy to detect a note of doubt in Anterio's tone.

  "Come now, Captain," I said, "I'm sure you noticed us leading her off this morning, with the assistance of the City Guard. The wench made certain everyone in the market saw us go by, despite our attempts at discretion. Half of Altapasaeda knows she was clapped in irons. The woman has no shame."

  Anterio shook his head. "To think. She seemed such a lady…"

  "You're not the first to be fooled by that pretty face," I told him, with a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "So now that you know the truth, perhaps we can reinstate our business deal? Since I'm here I might as well clear up a few loose ends, but I'll need to be off soon."

  We made the final arrangements; I gave Anterio back the four onyxes, and turned to leave. I'd been desperately tempted to suggest simply departing there and then, but I knew I wouldn't get far. I was certain now that I was being watched. Half a dozen faces had become familiar since we'd left the palace. Hopefully they'd have overheard the explanation I'd given Saltlick about settling for our morning's passage. At any rate, I couldn't imagine they'd gleaned any clue to my real plans from the afternoon's charade.

  Just in case, when I reunited with Saltlick – who was obviously growing tired of being heckled by angry dockworkers – I said loudly, "All done. Captain Anterio has gratefully received his dues from this morning, I have my stomach medicine, and now we'll go and collect your fine new clothes."

  It sounded convincing enough. Yet, even as I listened to my own words, a voice of doubt intruded.

  
Then we'll go for dinner with Moaradrid.

  
And then – assuming he doesn't climb over the table to cut my heart out right there and then – I'll get to stake my life on the most absurdly dangerous crime of my career.

 
 
 

My fears and doubts began to fade as we wandered back from the docks, until I found myself feeling almost cheerful. For the first time in a long while, I was doing something more than being driven by the whims of others. There was a degree of comfort, too, in knowing that the trials of the last few days were, one way or another, about to reach a conclusion. Rationalisations aside, though, it felt good to be simply walking. I'd grown so used to fleeing for my life that just to saunter was a pleasure.

  Most of the stalls had disappeared from the market square, leaving a wind-swept space broken up by a few wooden frames stripped of their canvas. Further on, the last shopkeepers were bringing in their produce, collapsing canopies, dropping shutters and bolting doors. The sun was barely halfway down the sky, and it was too early for any kind of nightlife. The streets were nearly deserted, with only a few lastminute shoppers rushing by, too busy to pay us much attention. There were hardly any carts or horses, so we stuck to the middle of the road, picking our way amongst puddles of rotten fruit and vegetables, dung, and other less identifiable refuse.

  The respite, like all good things, proved short-lived. I hadn't been unduly worried about being tailed before, when we were safe amongst the crowds and it suited me to have witnesses who'd report my cover story to whoever their paymasters might be. Since we'd started back, though, two men had been staying close to us, making less and less of an attempt to hide their presence. They wore their cloaks loose enough to conceal weapons, walked with a sort of compulsive sneakiness, and in general had the air of gutter criminals. Perhaps I wasn't one to judge on that count, but at least I'd always tried to steer away from violence. Something told me these two didn't suffer from the same compunction.

  As the last shop doors slammed shut, as their straggling customers became scarcer, so the pair quickened their pace. My backward glances were met with less than friendly grins. It struck me that they might not be agents of one or other interested party. They might simply be cutthroats who'd spied a well-off tourist and decided to chance their luck. Yet that made little sense. No thief, no matter how desperate, would consider anyone accompanied by Saltlick an easy mark.

  Part of me felt that feigned indifference was my best chance. However, it was becoming harder not to hurry. Our pursuers matched every slight increase of speed. They were drawing closer, and any pretence of disinterest had vanished.