Toll the Hounds

The walrus-skin coracle bobbed perilously in the chop between two trader barges, at risk of being crushed between them before a frantic scull by the lone occupant squirted the craft through, to draw up moments later alongside a mud-smeared landing crowded with crayfish traps. The man who clambered up from the coracle was soaked from the hips down, and the knapsack he slung on to one shoulder sloshed, then began to drain incontinently as he worked his way up the dock to the worn stone steps that climbed to the quayside.

He was unkempt, his beard two or three days old, and the leathers he wore seemed a strange mix of those normally worn beneath armour and those a Nathii fisher might wear in a squall. The floppy sealskin hat covering his head was misshapen, sun-faded and salt-rimed. In addition to his knapsack he carried an odd-looking scimitar in a split scabbard bound together by frayed strips of leather. The serpent-head pommel revealed empty sockets where gems had once resided for eyes, fangs and collar. Tall, wiry, he moved with a vaguely furtive haste once he reached the quay, cutting through the crowds towards one of the feeder alleys on the other side of Front Street.

From the landing down on the water, someone was yelling, demanding to know who had left a half-awash coracle beside his cages.

Reaching the alley mouth, the man walked in a few paces, then paused in the shadow between the high-walled warehouses. He drew off his floppy hat and wiped the grime from his brow. His black hair, while thinning from the front, hung in a long ponytail that had been tucked up beneath the hat but now fell to the small of his back. His forehead and face were seamed in scars, and most of his left ear was missing, slashed away some time past. Scratching a moment at his beard, he settled the hat back on, and headed off down the alley.

He was set upon less than ten paces later, as two figures closed on him from alcoves, one to either side. The one on his left jammed the point of a dagger against his ribs, while the other waved a short sword in front of his eyes, using it to direct the man against a grimy wall.

Mute, the man complied. In the gloom he squinted at the one with the sword, then scowled. ‘Leff.’

A stained grin. ‘Hey, old partner, fancy you showing up.’

The one with the knife snorted. ‘Thought we’d never spy you out wi’ that stupid hat, did you?’

‘Scorch! Why, I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you both. Gods below, I would’ve thought you two would have met grisly ends long ago. But this is a great discovery, friends! Had I any coin — any at all — why, I’d buy you both a drink-’

‘Enough of that,’ Leff said in a growl, still waving the sword in front of the man’s face. ‘You’re on our list, Torvald Nom. Aye, way down on it since most people figured you were long gone and almost as long dead. But you ran out on a debt — a big one and bigger now, aye — not to mention running out on me and Scorch-’

‘Hardly! I seem to recall we formally absolved our partnership, after that night when-’

Scorch hissed, ‘Quiet, damn you! Nobody knows nothing about none of that!’

‘My point was,’ Torvald hastily explained, ‘I never ran out on you two.’

‘Don’t matter,’ Leff said, ‘since that ain’t why you’re on the list now, is it?’

‘You two must be desperate, to take on one of those-’

‘Maybe we are,’ said Scorch, ‘and maybe we ain’t. Now, you saying you’re broke is bad news, Torvald. For you more’n us, since we now got to deliver you. And my, won’t Lender Gareb be pleased.’

‘Wait! I can get that money — I can clear that debt. But I need time-’

‘No time to give ya,’ Leff said, shaking his head. ‘Sorry, old friend.’

‘One night, that’s all I’m asking.’

‘One night, for you to run as far as you can.’

‘No, I swear it. Gods, I’ve just returned! Here to honour all my debts!’

‘Really, and how are you planning to do that?’

‘Best leave the details to me, Scorch, just to keep you and Leff innocent. Now, I’m way down on that list — I’d have to be, since it’s been years. That means nobody’s expecting you to come up with me, right? Give me a night, just one, that’s all I’m asking. We can meet again right here, this time tomorrow. I won’t run out on you two, I promise.’

‘You must think we’re idiots,’ Leff said.

‘Listen, once I’ve cleared Gareb’s debt, I can help you. With that list. Who’s better than me at that kind of stuff?’

Scorch’s disbelieving expression stretched his face until it seemed his eyes would fall out of their sockets. He licked his lips, shot Leff a glance.

Torvald Nom saw all this and nodded. ‘Aye, you two are in trouble, all right. Those lists chew up whoever takes ’em on. I must tell you, I’m amazed and, well, deeply disappointed to find that you two have sunk that far since I left. Gods, if I’d known, well, I might’ve considered staying-’

Leff snorted. ‘Now that’s a damned lie.’

‘All right, perhaps an exaggeration. So — what is Gareb saying I’m owing him now?’

‘A thousand silver councils.’