The Ambassador’s Mission

Gol stopped, as far from the shelter as the other guard was. Cery walked on, resisting the urge to turn and look behind, but not because of his friend and bodyguard. As always, he’d arranged for some of his people to follow and watch, ready to help if he needed them, or warn of approaching danger. He called them his “shadow guard.” Only this time there was a new face among the familiar ones.

Anyi. She was learning fast. She was quick and agile, and a bit too reckless at times. It had turned out though that the risks she took were more often out of ignorance than foolishness, and she was taking in his and Gol’s instruction with reassuring enthusiasm and intelligence. Ordering her to follow and watch was the safest way to let her feel she was doing the job she wanted, without risking revealing her identity to anyone or putting her in real danger.

Yet the streets they’d passed through were never completely safe, and he couldn’t help worrying that some stupid thug would try something with her, and it would lead to a fight.

As Cery reached the shelter, Skellin rose to greet him.

“What do you have to tell me, friend?” the other Thief asked.

“Some news I heard the other day.”

The story of the rot-seller and his foreign, female helper brought a frown to the man’s exotic face. Cery lied about the source of the information, saying that it was a washerwoman who’d overheard the conversation. Better to keep Anyi’s name out of this.

“Hmm,” was all Skellin said. He looked displeased. Perhaps even angry.

“I also informed my friend that you would like to meet her,” Cery added. “She agreed to it.”

Skellin’s gaze lightened and he straightened his shoulders. “Did she?” He rubbed his hands together and smiled. “Well, that’s something to look forward to. As for your rather bad news… I will look into it.” He sighed. “It does not look good, does it? First she is seen in my territory, now she is working for my rot-sellers.”

“Unless they’re someone else’s rot-sellers.”

The other Thief’s mouth twitched into a crooked smile. “Which would make it even worse news. I’ll let you know what I find out.” His voice had gained a harder, almost threatening edge. That’s more like what I’d expect from a man with his power and trade, Cery thought.

Cery nodded. They spoke polite farewells, parted and headed in different directions. After all the effort I have to put into getting here, these meetings always feel too brief. But sitting and chatting to Skellin doesn’t appeal either. I’m not sure why. Probably because I’m always waiting for him to try getting me to sell rot for him.

Gol joined him and they set off into the city. Sunny House was several streets behind when a figure stepped out of a doorway and walked toward them. Cery tensed, then relaxed as he recognised Anyi, then tensed again as he realised she was disobeying his orders. She wasn’t supposed to approach him until they were back at the hideout.

Maybe she needs to warn me of something.

Anyi nodded to him politely, her expression serious, then fell into step beside him.

“So,” she said, her voice low. “You got a good reason to be working with the King of Rot?”

Cery glanced at her, amused. “Who calls him that?”

“Half the city,” she replied.

“Which half?”

“The lower half.”

“I’m from the lower half, so why haven’t I heard of it?”

She shrugged. “You’re old and out of touch. So. Have you got a good reason?”

“Yes.”

They walked in silence for several paces.

“Because I hate that man,” she added suddenly.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“We had no rot here until he came along.”

Cery grimaced wryly. “If he hadn’t brought it, someone else would have.”

She scowled. “Why don’t you sell it?”

“I have standards. Pretty low standards, but that’s to be expected. I’m a Thief.”

“There’s a big difference between what he does and what you do.”

“You have no idea what I do.”

“That’s true.” She frowned. “And I’m not in a hurry to find out. But… why don’t you deal in rot?”

He shrugged. “Rot makes people unreliable. If they lose interest in making a living they don’t want loans. If they can’t work they can’t pay back the loans. If they’re broke, they can’t buy things. If they die they’re no good to anyone. Rot isn’t good for business – unless it is the business. And if it was no worse than bol I’d be lining up to trade in it.”

Anyi nodded, then let out a long sigh. “It sure does make people unreliable. There was… I had a friend. We worked together, were going to… do things together. My friend helped me out when you told me I had to hide.

“But we started to run out of money a lot faster than we should have. I knew my friend took rot, only enough to relax and sleep. When it ran out, my friend disappeared off to get more. I went next door to talk to the neighbour’s wife, so I was out when my friend returned. With two thugs. I heard them talking. My so-called ‘friend’ was going to sell me out.”

Cery cursed. “Did he know why you were hiding?”

“Yes.”

“So the thugs know, too.”

“I guess so.”

Cery glanced at Gol.