The Burning City (11 page)

There were boys in the yard playing a complicated game. Hide and run, track and pounce. Imitation Lordkin. Pitiful. Whandall watched them while he thought.

He'd need an outfit, a way to blend in here when he returned. But anything that would blend in here would stand out in Serpent's Walk. A Lordkin had to be crafty.

It came to him that he could wear his own clothes underneath, then two more layers of Lord's clothing topped by the loose jacket, and still not look too odd. Those boys were all bulkier than he was. They ate better—and more often.

When he was dressed, he felt bulky. He left Shanda's room carefully, with a twinge of regret for all the stuff he was leaving behind, too much to gather. He left by going over the wall. Guards might notice how much he was wearing.

No one paid any attention to him while he was in the area near the Lordshills. There were people and carts on the road. No one offered him a ride, but no one stopped him either. At the top of the ridge he stopped and looked back at the Lordshills and their wall. Then went on. He knew where he could sleep safely.

The Pit was beginning to seem a friendly place. The moon was still near full. The light picked up the shadows of predators coming to greet him while he made himself comfortable. Through the ghosts' restless pockets in the fog he watched some larger shadow. He couldn't see it move, but every time he dozed and woke, it was nearer yet.

Then he saw something swing above it—a limb—and he knew its shape.

It was twice the size of one of the giant cats, with a rounded body, and it was upside down. It was hanging from an imaginary cylinder, perhaps
the branch of a tree eons dead, by its four inward-curving hands. Its head hung, possibly watching Whandall himself. One of the tremendous cats suddenly discovered it, turned, and sprang, and then the horde of beasts was tearing it into wisps. The creature fought back, and birds and giant wolves too became drifting shreds of fog.

In the morning he put on everything he had, with his old clothes on top of it all. He looked bulky and he couldn't run, but he might get through…

He had reached Bull Pizzle territory when he heard shouts. Sanvin Street was supposed to be safe, outside the jurisdiction of any band, but five older boys were coming toward him. Whandall began to run. They chased him down and tackled him.

“Hoo!” one of them shouted. “Look what all he's got!”

“Where?” another demanded. “Where'd you gather stuff like this?” When Whandall didn't answer, he hit him on the head with his fist. “Where?”

“Lordshills,” Whandall said.

“Yeah, sure. Now where?” They hit him some more and sat on his head.

“Leave me alone!” Whandall shouted. He wanted to scream for help, but it wouldn't do any good. They'd just call him a coward and crybaby. But he could shout defiance…

“Serpents!” He heard the cry from down the street. “Serpent's Walk!” A dozen older boys, led by his brother Wanshig, were coming.

“Bull Pizzle!” his tormentor shouted. Then the others were there. Whandall felt the weight lift from his head. There were the sounds of blows.

“You all right?” Wanshig asked. “Come on, let's get out of here.”

When they were back at Placehold, Wanshig thanked the others. “Somebody'd better tell Lord Pelzed,” Wanshig said. “We may have trouble with Bull Pizzle.”

“I never left Sanvin Street,” Whandall protested.

Wanshig shrugged. “So what happened? Get anything good?”

“Just some clothes, and look, they tore them, and they gathered my
jacket and shoes.” Whandall felt bitter disappointment. Nothing had gone right this time. “This stuff is too small for them anyway—”

“Nice, though.” Wanshig fingered the shirt Whandall was inspecting. “Nice. You just need a way to get stuff back to Placehold. Take one of us next time.”

Even his own family lusted for what the Lords threw away!

“It wouldn't work,” Whandall said. “It was… sort of an accident that I got in and made friends inside.” They'd never believe him if he said that Shanda had given him all those things. Or they'd want to know why. “Nobody notices me. But the Lordsmen wouldn't let a bunch of us in.”

“How many Lordsmen?”

“Lots,” Whandall said. “Two at the gate, but there are others just inside.”

“Yeah, we heard that,” Wanshig said. “And they have magic too. Did you see any magic?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Ten, twenty years ago, before I was born, three bands got together and went to the Lordshills to gather. None of them ever came back,” Wanshig said. “None.”

Maybe magic
, Whandall thought.
And maybe it was only guards with armor and spears fighting together with the Lords to tell them what to do, and a ship to carry the losers away.
But he could never explain that to Wanshig.

He said, “Wan, there's going to be a big show. The Lords will have a show in the park, and give away some presents, maybe do some magic.”

“When?”

“Five days, I think,” Whandall said. He counted on his fingers. “Five days counting today.”

Wanshig smiled. “Good. Don't tell anyone.
Anyone
. We'll keep this for the family.”

“What will you do?”

“I'll have every Placeholder who can pick a pocket ready for them. We'll have first pick of the crowd.” Wanshig nibbled his lip, considering. “We can't keep Bull Pizzle out of the park. Can we make them go somewhere else? Something to get them to the other side of town…”

Whandall watched his brother think.

Wanshig grinned. “Did they go through your pockets?”

“You got there first.”

Wanshig's grin got bigger. “So they don't know you weren't carrying gold. Whandall, Iscunie has been seeing a Bull Pizzle boy. She can tell him you gathered some gold in the harbor town and ten of us are going back for more. We'll be coming back the morning of the parade, on the south side. That'll get every Bull Pizzle down there, and we'll have the park to ourselves.”

There were drums and flutes, and five wagons. Thirty Lordsmen in shiny bronze armor marched with spears and shields, and when they got to the park they did a complicated thing of marching in a circle. Then more Lordsmen came and filled in between them so that the circle was protected, and the wagons came in.

A family of kinless strung a rope between two thick trees, as high as a man could reach and so taut that it hung almost straight. A kinless boy younger than Whandall walked from one tree to the other along the rope, turned and walked back, perfectly balanced, while kinless and a few Lordkin whistled and applauded. Whandall realized that these must be the Ropewalker family, who sold rope near the Black Pit.

The Lordsmen were still at work. A portable stage unfolded out of one of the wagons. Another wagon was covered by a tent. When the stage was up a man came out costumed in feathers like an eagle.

The kinless gathered around the wagons. More Lordsmen walked through the crowds. Flutes played, and drums, and someone passed out little cookies to the children. There was a little round platform that turned, with wooden dragons on it for children to ride.

At first it was turned by kinless running around it. When the Lordkin pushed all the kinless children off and took their places, the kinless drifted away into the crowd. A couple of Lordkin fathers tried to get older boys to push it, but nobody would, so after a while it sat there unused while people watched the show.

Most Lordkin kept to themselves in one corner of the park, but Place-hold pickpockets moved among kinless and Lordkin alike. One was caught. The kinless man shouted curses at him, but when Lordkin men moved toward him, he let him go with more curses.

A troupe of acrobats came out onto the stage. They flew for short distances with the aid of a seesaw. Another climbed a long pole and hung by his teeth. A man and a woman, both Lordkin, ate fire, and a burly kinless man swallowed a long thin sword. The Ropewalkers danced on their tightrope, this time the boy and a younger girl, who did a backward somersault while an older man stood under her as if to catch her if she fell. She was very steady and he wasn't needed.

Whandall moved closer to where they were passing out cookies. One of the girls…

“Shanda,” he said.

She looked startled. “Oh. I didn't recognize you.”

Whandall saw her look nervously up at her stepfather on the platform, where he was about to make a speech. Whandall took a cookie. “Are they still looking for Lordkin to talk to?”

“I think so, but they haven't,” she said.

Lord Samorty began his speech about the new aqueduct and how it would bring fresh water from the mountains. The kinless cheered in places.

“Will you take me to the redwoods?” Shanda asked. “Not for a while. We'll be doing this show in other parts of town.”

“I'll try. Before the rain if I can. Rain makes everything grow and it's harder.”

Something bright appeared on the stage, then vanished. “An evil wizard is keeping the rain for himself,” Samorty was saying. “We'll beat him. There'll be rain!”

Kinless and Lordkin alike cheered.

“But now there's a water shortage, and it's very hard on the horses and oxen,” Samorty was saying. “Delivery is difficult. So next Mother's Day will be special. There'll be nine weeks' rations and some other extras.”

The Lordkin cheered.

“And that will have to last for two Mother's Days,” Samorty was saying. “And you'll all have to come to Peacegiven Square to get it, because we won't be able to bring everything to the usual distribution places.”

Crowd noises were drowning out Samorty. He waved, and three magicians came on the stage. They made things appear and disappear. One called Shanda up on the stage and put her in a box, and when it was opened, she was gone. Whandall looked for her, but he couldn't see her.

Wanshig came up behind him. “Lord Pelzed isn't happy,” he said, but there was a laugh in his voice. “He's got all of Serpent's Walk out picking pockets now, but we got the best. Good work.”

The magicians made a vine grow.

“I know how to make Pelzed happy,” Whandall said.

“How?”

“He can meet the Lords.” “You don't know any Lords.”

“I know who they are,” Whandall said. “That was Lord Samorty who made the speech—”

“Everybody knows that.”

“And the man over there talking to the magicians is Lord Qirinty. He's a magician himself, or at least a pickpocket, and the fat one in armor with the Lordsmen, that's Lord Quintana. The pretty lady serving soup is his wife.”

“So you know who they are.”

Whandall hadn't heard Pelzed come up behind them. “What else do you know?” Pelzed demanded. “Wanshig, you didn't share. We'll have to talk about that.”

Wanshig looked worried.

“Lord Pelzed, I heard the Lords wanted a Lordkin leader to talk to,” Whandall said.

Pelzed looked crafty. “Say more.”

“They want the most powerful leader in this part of the city,” Whandall said. “But I don't know what they want from him.”

“That's me,” Pelzed said. “Go tell them.”

Whandall hadn't thought this out far enough. “Uh…”

“Do this for me and we'll forget what happened this morning,” Pelzed said. He pointed up on the stage. “See that guy?”

“Foreigner,” Wanshig said. “I've seen him before—”

“He's a teller,” Pelzed said. “If I meet the Lords he'll tell everyone else. Whandall, how sure are you about their wanting to talk to us?”

Whandall thought about it. They hadn't wanted to talk to the Lordkin, but they thought they'd have to, only Whandall didn't dare tell Pelzed that. “I heard them plan it out over dinner,” Whandall said.

“Whandall's a great sneak,” Wanshig said.

“I remember,” Pelzed said. “Well, go tell them I'm here.”