Jimmy the Hand (11 page)

Flora stared at
him in horror. ‘What for?’ she asked. ‘What are we
supposed to have done?’

‘Only what
you’ve always done,’ he told her. ‘It’s just
they changed the law.’

She closed her
mouth and her eyes grew cool. ‘Because of the Princess,’
she said.

‘Or just
because del Garza’s crazy,’ Jimmy said with a grin.
‘Doesn’t matter. In a few minutes there’ll be
nobody left for him to hang. Unless he wants to hang his own guards
for letting you go.’

She returned his
smile slowly, a wicked glint growing in her eyes.

‘Well,
then. Let’s get to work, shall we?’

Once they heard
the news, the other Mockers and even the few strangers pitched in
eagerly. When the rope was tied firmly, Jimmy said, ‘As soon as
you get to the sewers, scatter. Don’t wait around, unless
you’re helping those who can’t get away alone. By the
time I get down last, I want you all gone. Make your way as best you
can to your flops or back to Mocker’s Rest, but be careful.
Once they find you all gone, things in the city are going to get even
worse for a while.’ Jimmy sent Gerald, Larry the Ear’s
young brother, down first. Mostly to soothe Larry’s fears,
partly to show the girls and everyone else how easy the climb was.
Except for the smell. Wisely, he didn’t dwell on that part. And
once the escapees encountered it they certainly weren’t going
to climb back up, although if they’d known what was facing them
some of them might have preferred hanging.

Finally it was
just Jimmy and Flora. He turned to her with an excited grin.

‘There’s
something I want to do before I go.’ Flora looked puzzled, but
nodded for him to go on. ‘Rumours are flying that del Garza put
Prince Erland in the dungeon. Do you have any idea where they’d
keep him?’ he asked.

‘How would
I know?’

‘But he
must be somewhere near here, right?’ Jimmy asked.

Crossing her
arms, she stared at him for a long moment. ‘I suppose so. If
the rumours said he was in the dungeons, that would be here.’
She cocked her head. ‘Are you thinking what I think you’re
thinking?’

He nodded
eagerly, his grin growing wider, if that was possible. ‘I’m
going to get him out.’

Flora’s
eyes widened. ‘Are you crazy?’ she hissed, shaking her
head as though trying to dislodge something. ‘I can’t
even imagine what they’d do if you did that.’ Her eyes
widened further. ‘The Upright Man!’ Flora covered her
mouth with her hand. ‘Del Garza might not catch you, but the
Upright Man certainly would!’

‘He’d
probably be very pleased indeed,’ Jimmy said confidently. A lot
more confidently than he actually felt.
The Upright Man doesn’t
confide in me, either.

She lowered her
hand and licked her lips. ‘You really mean to do this, don’t
you?’

‘Why not?’
he countered, his eyes gleaming with excitement. ‘What better
chance will anyone have? What patriotic citizen of Krondor could pass
it up?’

‘All
right,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’ll help you.’

That took him
aback; he hadn’t meant to convert her. ‘I can handle it,’
he said firmly. ‘No need for you to risk getting caught again.’

‘He’s
supposed to be ill, Jimmy. You may need some help with him.’

She gave him a
steady look until he nodded reluctantly. Then he went to work on the
cell’s lock. It was tougher than he’d expected, but then,
it was supposed to keep common prisoners in, not lock-crackers with a
full set of picks. He worked the tumblers by feel, by the tension of
the wire struts bending under his fingers, and for the first time
blessed Long Charlie for all those tedious drills. Flora stood beside
him, her body taut with fear, keeping an eye out for the guards. Then
the last probe sprang back; there was a click sound from within the
heavy lock-plate, and they both winced at the protesting squeal of
the hinges.

‘Which
way?’ he wondered aloud.

‘They
brought us in that way,’ Flora said, nodding left down a
corridor of mortared stone; what little light there was came from a
round sun-well in the ceiling, no bigger than the diameter of a man’s
head.

‘There
were two large cells before this one, but little else. So I think we
should go this way.’ She pointed to the right and then quickly
moved off.

‘Better
let me go first,’ Jimmy said. ‘I’ve got something I
can use in case we meet anyone.’

Flora raised an
eyebrow, but didn’t object.

Jimmy moved
ahead of her, feeling awkward because while what he’d said was
true the real reason he wanted to be first was, well . . .

Because I
want to be first.
And he suspected Flora knew it.

The corridor
they followed was dark and narrow. Jimmy couldn’t imagine why
it was laid out this way, unless the proposed inhabitants were
supposed to be owls and cats. He thought that it actually worked to
their advantage though, providing them with cover when they needed to
look around a corner, to see if the way was clear. So far, there was
no one here to notice them. Every cell they’d checked on their
way was empty.

Which surprised
him; he’d been sure del Garza was jailing anyone he felt like
throwing into the dungeon. And given Jocko Radburn’s
personality, Jimmy had been sure he’d find half the city behind
bars. At least the official half.

He was getting
impatient; they’d been walking so long it felt as if they must
be all the way on the other side of the keep by now.

Then the
flickering light of a torch outside a cell up ahead revealed the
presence of a guard. A Bas-Tyran from his black and gold uniform and
nearly asleep, even standing up and leaning on his halberd, judging
from the way his helmeted head kept nodding off and then jerking up
again. Sleeping standing up seemed to be one of the basic military
skills.

Jimmy squatted,
waving Flora down too; they were behind a quarter-turn in the
passageway’s meander. Then he dug the small bag he’d
purchased from Asher out of his pouch and unknotted the string. That
was when it occurred to him that he had no idea how much of the stuff
to use. His mouth twisted in exasperation. He’d been thinking
about the wrong thing; how much he’d pay, rather than how much
to use and how long it would last. Too late now.

He decided to
sneak up on the nodding guard and blow just a pinch into the man’s
face. He’d keep on doing that until the guard collapsed. Jimmy
gave a mental shrug. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to
do. After all, things had gone pretty well so far using trial and
error.

He turned to
Flora and silently cautioned her to stay put. She nodded and made a
shooing gesture. When he’d turned away Jimmy crossed his eyes
and stuck out his tongue, a gesture he’d never dream of making
to her face; but he hated being told what to do. Especially when it
was his idea to do it in the first place.

Focus,
he
told himself and did so.

He went forward
swiftly but without hurry, moving on the balls of his bare feet like
a cat. The guard was in the head-nodding phase of his waking doze:
Jimmy took a pinch of the magician’s powder and blew it into
his face just as he jerked it up again. With a loud, pig-like snort,
the guard dropped like a sack of potatoes and the young thief barely
caught the man’s polearm before it, too, crashed to the floor.

Flora moved up
beside him and the two of them stared at the fallen soldier in
astonishment.

‘What did
you use?’ Flora whispered.

‘Something
I got from a magician,’ Jimmy told her in a more normal voice.
He snatched the keys from the guard’s belt. ‘Something
I’ve got to get more of. Useful stuff!’ He took the bag
out of his tunic and handed it to her. ‘Here, you keep it. If
someone comes, blow a pinch into his face and make sure you don’t
breathe any of the powder yourself.’ She nodded and put the
small bag inside her bodice. ‘Come on, let’s open that
door.’

The tiny cell
was pitch-black, until they brought the torch in with them. It was
colder than the corridor outside and smelled of mould and human
waste.

On the floor was
a thin pallet of filthy straw and on the pallet, beneath a single
ragged blanket, lay a man. His face was waxen pale, eyes and cheeks
deeply sunken and his breathing rasped and gurgled as if each one was
a struggle.

Flora breathed
an ‘Ooooh’ of sympathy and crouched by the man’s
side. She took one of his hands in hers and immediately began to
chafe it. ‘He’s so cold, Jimmy.’ She turned and
looked up at him. ‘Go and get that guard’s cloak.’

Jimmy raised his
brows; he hadn’t expected her to start nursing anybody. But if
this was the Prince he’d need to be a lot more active than he
was if they were to get him out of here. He placed the torch in an
iron bracket by the door and went to do as she’d asked.

When he returned
she said, ‘Let’s get some of that under him. This straw’s
no protection at all from the floor.’

Jimmy nodded,
but he was dismayed to find the man still unconscious. How were they
going to know they had the right prisoner if he couldn’t tell
them? The young thief had only ever seen the Prince from a distance
and he’d been healthier then, by far, than this man.

He slipped an
arm under the prisoner’s head and shoulders and heaved, almost
sending him flying, for he weighed nothing at all, as if his body was
made of sticks and air.

‘Well, if
we have to carry him we can,’ he muttered.

‘But,
Jimmy, he’s so ill,’ Flora said. She tucked the cloak
around her patient’s emaciated body. Then she threw up her
hands in despair. ‘Just listen to his breathing, it’s
pneumonia, no doubt, and he’s got a fever.’

‘And we
don’t know if he’s the Prince,’ Jimmy said grimly.

‘Who are
you children?’ the man whispered, and he opened his
fever-bright eyes upon them.

Then he coughed,
long and hard, curling into himself until the spasm passed, his face
contorted with pain. When it was over he lay back with a careful
sigh. His two would-be rescuers watched him with wincing sympathy
that turned to solemn looks when he opened his eyes again.

‘Well?’

‘We’re
Mockers,’ Jimmy said. ‘Who are you?’

The man formed
the word
Mockers
with his lips, but didn’t say it. Then
he grinned, a truly terrible expression on his pale and wasted
features. ‘I,’ he said breathlessly, carefully separating
his words, ‘am Prince Erland of Krondor.’

They could see
the pride in the man, even under these sordid conditions.

‘Have you
got anything to drink?’ Flora asked. ‘His lips are so
dry.’

Jimmy shook his
head. ‘I’ll check the guard.’

He was back in a
moment and handing a flask to Flora.

‘I think
it’s wine,’ he said.

Flora lifted the
Prince’s head and brought the flask to his lips.

‘Thank
you,’ Erland said after a long drink. He raised his brows.
‘That was rather good, and I haven’t had anything since
they moved me down here this morning.’

It might have
been his imagination but it seemed to Jimmy that the Prince’s
colour was better. Erland indicated that he would like more and Flora
gave it to him.

‘We’ve
come to get you out of here, uh, your
highness?
’ Jimmy
said. At least he thought highness was the right thing to call him.
He was pretty sure that your
majesty
was totally wrong.

But the Prince
shook his head. ‘There’s little point.’ He smiled
at them. ‘Not that I don’t appreciate your efforts, young
Mockers. But,’ he paused to catch his breath, ‘I will not
live much longer.’ He cleared his throat and the fear that he
might cough was in his eyes. When no such fit took place he continued
speaking. ‘I have been ill for a long time, and I am tired.
Putting me here will only hasten my death, but death is coming, no
matter where I am.’ He closed his eyes, shaking his head
slightly. ‘The priests and chirurgeons have done all they can,
but there is a sickness inside my lungs that is slowly eating away at
me.’ His face was so drawn and pale, Jimmy would have thought
him confined for years, not hours, so he judged the Prince a man very
much close to death. ‘Much too tired to make the effort to
escape. But you should.’ He smiled at them.

Jimmy knew the
Prince was right for somehow he could see the man’s death in
his worn face.

‘Your
wife!’ Flora said. ‘We could help her escape.’

‘She’s
under guard up in our apartment,’ Erland said. ‘You could
never reach her.’ He took a long, slow breath, trying to avoid
another coughing fit. ‘Del Garza ordered me put here when my
daughter fled the castle. She’s hiding somewhere in the city.
He thinks that by threatening me with a cold death, she’ll
return without him tearing apart the city and starting a civil riot.’

‘No, sir,’
said Jimmy. ‘She’s not in the city. She’s three
days or more gone by ship to Crydee, with Prince Arutha.’

‘Arutha!’
said Erland, then he was racked by another coughing attack. When he
could speak, he said, ‘How is it the Prince of Crydee was
here?’

Jimmy quickly
recounted what he knew, that Arutha and his companions had come to
Krondor to seek Erland’s aid in the next spring campaign
against the invading Tsurani, and had found the city under martial
law and Guy du Bas-Tyra’s rule. That they had tried to lie low
while assessing what was in play in Krondor, and had come under
observation of both Radburn’s secret police and the Mockers;
the Mockers had barely got to Arutha first.

He finished
quickly by telling of the night fight at the docks and the successful
departure of the
Sea Swift,
and the likelihood that Anita was
safely away from Krondor if she hadn’t been returned by now.

‘Thank you
for that,’ said the Prince. ‘That is comforting. If du
Bas-Tyra returns to word my daughter is out of the city, he will
almost certainly return me to the comfort of my apartments and the
good ministry of my wife. I couldn’t ask for better news than
to know my daughter in safety with the son of Borric of Crydee.