Giant Thief (28 page)

  I crept to the drape over the door, lifted one edge and peeped out. The passage was unlit like the one above. I flicked a coin against the wall and waited. When two minutes had passed and no one had come to investigate the sound, I felt satisfied the corridor was unguarded. Why would it be? There was no one to defend against but the thief-in-residence, who for all anyone knew was asleep in his own bed.

  There were four rooms to either side of the corridor. I searched them all. After a few finds akin to those I'd made in the fat guest's room, and one chamber containing nothing of any value, I was starting to become despondent. Then number six turned up a brimming moneybag and some jewelled earrings that justified the night's work by themselves. I glanced briefly into the last two, conscious of the time, and returned to my starting place. I'd been dropping off my takes as I went along, and the result was a glittering heap beneath the window.

  I leaned out and tapped the wall until Saltlick looked up. I held out the first moneybag, gesturing that I planned to drop it. He raised cupped hands over his head, and I let it fall, fully expecting him to miss it and it to explode on the cobbles with a noise loud enough to stir the whole palace. Not so. He snatched it deftly from the air and placed it at his feet, just as I'd instructed. He managed just as well with the next two, and the last few articles I tucked around my person.

  I'd intended to tie the fat guest's sheets onto the end of my rope. Reassured by Saltlick's success and anxious for the passing time, I decided instead to climb as far as I could and drop the last distance. Sure enough, Saltlick caught me with hardly a jolt. I glanced at him with new respect. He was proving a capable partner. For a moment, I almost reconsidered leaving him when this was done.

  No. It would be better for both of us if we never set eyes on each other again after tonight. Saltlick could return to his tribe and I could go back to the life I'd been wrenched from all those days ago.

  I eyed the pile of treasure at our feet. This time there'd be a difference, though. This time I'd be rich.

  I spent a minute stuffing moneybags, loose coins, jewellery, scarves, and a fretted silver candlestick that had taken my fancy into the countless pockets secreted in the back of Saltlick's cloak. The formless garment combined with the giant's natural lumpiness hid them from all but careful examination, just as I'd intended. The padding I'd insisted on would muffle any suspicious clinking. Everything was going to plan.

  "Time to leave," I whispered, when the distant rap of approaching footsteps froze me to the spot.

  I held perfectly still for a moment, and then realised my right leg was jutting half out of the shadows. "Back!" I hissed, louder than I'd intended, and dragged Saltlick with me into the darkness.

  I pressed against the wall, pinning him beside me with one arm. Were we visible? I'd miscalculated. Only a blind man could fail to see a giant standing in that strip of gloom.

  The footsteps came closer. Perhaps my fear amplified them, because by the time I saw the patrolling guard I'd have sworn it was a carthorse bearing down on us. He was marching with stiff strides, halfway between the palace and the outer wall. He carried no torch, but his armour was so polished that it seemed to glimmer.

  He paced nearer, nearer. I could see his fingers closed on the sword hilt at his hip. Was he looking at us? Would Saltlick stop him if I ordered it? Running was out of the question. I could make out trace lines of hard features beneath his helmet. Nearer, still marching, staring into the night, glancing neither left nor right…

  Good discipline is a different thing to good guarding. He marched past without as much as a glance towards the walls. His steps were soon just a receding tap, tap, which quickly faded to nothing. All I could hear was Saltlick's hoarse breathing and the pounding of my own heart. When even that had steadied, I said, "All right. Let's go."

  I kept well within the shadow of the palace this time, drawing Saltlick with me. It took us a couple of minutes to skirt round the northeast corner to the front. I picked up the pace after that – I'd noticed earlier that the perspective from the gatehouse excluded most of the courtyard – and only slowed again when we drew near the grand main entrance. There was a pool of torchlight there, and I stopped on its edge. There was only one guard visible, and he had his back to us. I hissed a last instruction to Saltlick and stepped into the light.

  We were just a couple of guests, now, with every right to be where we were. I changed to a leisurely swagger, but the effort was wasted. The guard was talking with his colleague, who'd been out of view within the far side of the gatehouse. Neither of them looked round until the last moment.

  "Hello," I called, too loudly. "We're just, me and my friend here that is, we're just going to…" Most people are hopeless at feigning drunkenness. Those who aren't understand that the trick is to sound as if you're desperately trying to seem sober. "Well, we've had a couple of drinks you see, with His Highness, and we thought we'd head into the city to look for, you know, a
different
short of entertainment. I mean sort. I didn't mean to say we're looking for midget ladies. Although, if you know of any…" I winked clumsily.

  The nearer guard came forward. "At this hour? We have orders to search anyone leaving the palace after dark." He sounded unsure, and I noticed how his eyes were hovering over the medallion around my neck. I suspected the orders had really been
search anyone who looks like they might be Easie Damasco
. That was fine, just as long as they hadn't been told to detain us.

  "Certainly, officer," I said, "only too happy to please."

  At that, as per my instructions, Saltlick loomed forward. His face was mangled into an expression that suggested rage, toothache, constipation, or some unfortunate combination of all three. It wasn't exactly what I'd asked for – in fact, I struggled to stifle a laugh – but the guards looked suddenly very nervous.

  The one who'd spoken spent a few moments searching me, patting his way up from my feet to my collar with practised precision. He turned to Saltlick. If the giant's expression had sagged a little, that made it no less off-putting. Still, the guard was a professional. With a timid, "If you could kneel down, sir," he began his search.

  I held my breath.

  I needn't have worried. Even with Saltlick kneeling, the hidden pockets would have been out of reach to all except a remarkably tall and determined examiner. The guard was neither. The image that sprang to mind was of a blind man trying to calculate the dimensions of a statue covered in shit. His well-trained hands fairly flew over Saltlick's bulk, and the instant he was done he moved back with a sigh of relief.

  "Well, ah… everything seems to be in order. I hope you'll enjoy the rest of your night."

  "Thank you, officer," I said, leading the way out through the gates, "I certainly intend to try."

  I only let myself relax once we'd turned the street corner and were out of sight. Even then, it proved a mistake. My entire body felt like jelly, jelly someone had pounded with a hammer. I leaned against a window ledge and drew long breaths, until my knees stopped threatening to collapse.

  We'd made it!

  If the guards on the gate had anything about them they'd notify their superiors of our unusual departure, and odds were someone would eventually come looking for us. However, it was early morning, both prince and guard-captain were indisposed, and the cogs would turn slowly if they turned at all. I should be long gone by the time they'd mustered a response.

  "We did it," I told Saltlick, grinning hugely.

  He didn't answer.

  "You can stop scowling," I said, "it was only supposed to put off the guards."

  If anything, his grimace deepened. "Bad."

  "What is? Escaping?"

  "Stealing bad."

  "Appropriating a few trinkets from people more than rich enough to replace them? Where's the harm in that?"

  I could tell he didn't agree. I had no time to convince him, and as long as I had the giant-stone, I saw no reason to try. "Your concerns are duly noted, Saltlick, and duly ignored. Let's get going."

  I led the way, and though he hesitated for a moment, he followed.

  I'd have preferred to avoid the temple district. Its streets were all wide boulevards, humble alleys presumably being an iniquity to the gods. They were lit everywhere by lanterns, and open braziers that burned with strange, chemical blues and greens. Our steps roused the birds in their cages above, stirring countless wings and the elongated scream of a peacock. It was hardly discreet. But it was the quickest route, and haste counted most.

  I was more than glad to reach the market district though. I still kept to the main thoroughfares, but here at least they were silent and unlit. We were almost through the more prosperous region, with the market square visible at the end of the road, when I realised Saltlick had stopped again. I glanced round to see him hovering a dozen paces behind me.

  "Saltlick, what are you doing? It's this way."

  "Not stealing." He looked angrier than I'd ever seen him – but angry like a kicked dog who knows the boot is his master's. "Go back."

  "No you won't. I've a skin to save and a living to make, and I need your help." While I could probably have managed without him from there, it was easier by far to have him trailing behind than to try to lug the haul myself. I held the giant-stone up at arm's reach, as close as I could get to his eye level. "Do I have to remind you? I'm your chief. That means you're helping me."

  "No more." But he sounded hopelessly unsure. He even took a half step towards me.

  Perhaps it was time for a change of tack. "Look… all you have to do is get me as far as Captain Anterio's boat. Then comes the bit you'll like. Once I'm safely onboard, this rock's all yours. You can go home and be lord high muckamuck of the giants, or rescue those friends of yours that Moaradrid's been swindling. How's that for a deal?"

  Saltlick looked appalled. "Not good enough!"

  "Well it's the best and only offer you're getting." Then my brain caught up, and I realised what he'd meant. "Wait, you're saying
you're
not good enough? Don't be ridiculous. You're strong, you're brave, you're resourceful… you're probably even quite clever by giant standards. What makes you think you wouldn't make just as good a chief as anyone?"

  He shook his head. "Not good enough."

  "Fine. You can find someone who's worthy and give it to them. How's that? Or if you'd rather, I can throw the damn thing in the river and no one can have it."

  That did it. Perhaps Saltlick could stand to see a monster like Moaradrid as chief of the giants, perhaps he could even tolerate me, but to have no leader and no hope of another ever was too much. He lumbered towards me. The anger was gone from his face, leaving behind it an impression of something utterly broken.

  I comforted myself with the thought that I'd meant what I'd said. Saltlick would have his precious stone back thanks to me, and maybe even save his people. "Don't worry. A day from now you'll look back on this as the best thing you ever did."

  The words sounded hollow even to me. Rather than dwell on that fact, I set off walking again. Saltlick didn't hesitate in following this time. I forced a swift pace through the barren market square, and it wasn't long before we came out on the upper tier above the harbour.

  I paused a moment, to lean against the iron railing and make sure everything below was as it should be. It was strange to see the docks so quiet, so dark and empty. There was no activity on the landings, no drunken sailors staggering back to their vessels, and apart from a few large packing crates near the waterside the greater part of the day's detritus had been cleared away. Most of the craft had only a single nightlight burning at their sterns. After the hustle and bustle I'd witnessed earlier, there was something dismal about the scene, as though we'd stumbled over a nautical cemetery.

  I recognised Anterio's dilapidated tug, moored where I'd left it. I thought I could make out a figure on deck staring back. I waved, and the gesture was returned.

  So this was it. In a few minutes, I'd be out of Altapasaeda. By dawn, Anterio would have dropped me at some middle-of-nowhere village where I could buy a horse and disappear for good. I took the stairs three at a time, and hurried across the intervening stretch of docks, with Saltlick thudding along behind me. I'd have never imagined a day ago that I could be so glad to see a filthy riverboat or its eccentric captain.

  I was almost on the gangplank before I realised it wasn't Anterio.

  "I suppose I should thank you for not keeping us waiting, if nothing else."

  "Guard-Captain Alvantes… this
is
a surprise." I just about managed not to choke on the words.

  "Really? You must hold us in very low esteem. Anterio was a terrible guardsman in his day, but he was never a fool. He contacted me about a suspicious character making outrageous claims about being on some secret mission for the Palace Guard. That tied up with the reports of your movements, of course."

  "And you left your dinner to come and meet me? Really, you shouldn't have."

  There'd been a playfulness to Alvantes's tone, an uncharacteristic touch of gloating even. Both vanished as he said, "I'd have arrested you hours ago, Damasco. But you had diplomatic immunity and His Highness wanted to make sure you were caught redhanded. Which is exactly what just happened – so now, you're mine.
Guardsmen, to me
!"

  That last was shouted past my shoulder, and the words had barely ceased echoing from the harbour wall when I heard the clop of hooves behind me. As I turned, I saw that the packing crates I'd noted now stood open, and that a rider was trotting forth from each dark opening. A moment later, a dozen mounted guards had formed a semicircle around us.