A man enters the pub and looksaround quickly. He sees two others already at the bar, sipping ale. A third sits at a table with his feet on the chair next to him. The bartender looks up and acknowledges him with a nod.
The newcomer crosses to the bar andsits down.
“You drinking?” the bartender asks him.
“Maybe,” says the man. “Really, I’m supposed to Sit with my Uncle for Dinner.”
“Don’t serve too many meals here.Got some old ham hanging. If you want a plate I’ll have the girl fetch it foryou when she’s back from the cellar.”
“Is this your Old Man’s place?”
“No, why?” asks the bartender warily.
“I think me and him is family."
“I doubt that, my friend.”
“I’ve got a big family, he might be a cousin of mine,” the man insists.
“I don’t think so, anyways he’s been dead sixteen year now.”
One of the two men sipping ale at the bar turns to the newcomer and says, “Don’t bother the barkeep, lad – he looks sleepy.”
The bartender shrugs, as if to say he feels fine– not tired at all. He points at the newcomer, “You want some ham, or no?”
The newcomer shakes his head andthen turns his attention to the one who interrupted. “Either of you know a good place to meet my Uncle for Dinner?”
“Nowhere good today,” says one.“I’m Randal. Let’s sit at a table, I’m waitingfor a cousin to show up. Maybe we can talk aboutthat Dinner when he gets here.”
The newcomer nods and introduces himself, “Josah.”
The bartender shrugs and goes backto polishing the bartop with the same dingy rag, as the three men carry their drinks to a table near the rear door.
“This is a quiet place,” Randal explains.
Josah nods. “I’m just in thismorning with a caravan from Treft and I was thinking about a long run hereabouts.”
“Good plan, lad. You get caught napping here and you’ll find yourself slapped and twisted before morning. What sort of trade do you ply?”
“Well,” grins Josah, “I made my wayhere among Old Friends. Thought I might badger a bit, but my stomachs full and I want to be sure to get tendered.
“What about Treft? You get hued by the beak?”
Josah shakes his head. “Nah, not me.”
“Why did you leave? I heard that the blood is thick in Treft.”
The newcomer drains his glass. “Nah, Treft? I spent 9 months heaving.”
Randal turns to his quiet friend and says, “What’s the name of that bowman we met last year? He was from Treft, right?”
The quiet friend mumbles somethingwithout taking his eyes from Josah.
Randal snaps fingers, “Right. It was Timo.” He turns back to Josah. “You know a bowman named Timo?”
Josah shrugs, “I don’t have the nerves for creeping eyes, lads. I’m just a diver from way back.
Randal laughs without mirth. “Hey even a whisker can creep.You don’t need special nerves for that.”
Josah adds, “I like it easy. Give me an open mouth and a booth without teeth, otherwise, I’d just as soon get wet in a crowded market. I got a lot of blood in my veins that way, don’t see any reason to stop now.”
Randal nods and sips again from his ale.
Josah licks his lips. “What about you fellows? Bowmen yourselves?”
Randal shakes his head. “No, I don’t run like that no more. My boss set me up skinning coolers and my blood is thick enough to spend most days drinking ale.”
Josah’s eyes light up. He can get into that sort of work load. “Your Uncle looking to put on a new lad?”
“Always looking,” says Randal, “You know how most tenders run. Put them in a crew and their bricky. They end up running without a call and getting slapped. Then as you sit wondering what he’s singing in the ear of the law. The question then is whether it was worth the ticket.”
“Cacklers,” Josah mutters shaking his head in disgust, as he drinks from his ale.
“Oh, every lad is a cank until the time comes, right?”
All three men pass several minutes in silence. Josah and Randal look around the room and size up every man who comes through the door. Randal’s companion doesn’t take his eyes off Josah, and Josah notices. He starts a conversation just to hear himself talk.
“I’ll be glad to talk to your Uncle, I could use some charms.”
“That's funny. I never knew a Diver needed ‘em,” says Randal softly.
Josah licks his lips again, nervously. “Thinking about running different, is all.”
Randal nods. “Well we all need a new start from time to time.”
Josah laughs a little too freely.“What about you,” he asks Randal’s companion. “I didn’t catch your name.”
The man leans back and says, “Nobs.”
“Nobs, eh? And what does your Uncle have you doing?”
“I got no Uncle,”says Nobs.
Josah looks confused, but Randal keeps talking. “The last tender we had made it three weeks before he was turned out to grope.”
Josah listens but doesn’t take his eyes off Nobs.
Randal continues.
“My boss doesn’t lurch but he don’t roll either.
Josah turns his eyes back toRandal, but finds them going back to Nob’s hands. They look soft like a banker’s. His fingers are long and slender. He doesn’t appear to have a solid day’s work in them.
“And if I had a shiny bit for a every riggle I’d met, I’d have a block in blood now.”
Despite the ale making him warm, Josah begins to feel cold. His eyes dart back and forth between the two men in his company. From the outside world, people swirl around them. They come in and go out of the pub and share their drinks noisily, they are all but unaware of the three men at the back table. No one takes notice of them. With each passing second, Josah is more and more worried.
“So you badgered your way here?” Randal asks, scratching his head. “Is that what you said?”
“No,” says Josah slowly and nervously, “I said, I made some friends on the way… Friends outside the walls.” He is quick to add the last part.
“Really? Do better than heaving?”
“Some.”
“How much stomach?”
“I’m full,” admits Josah. “I got a strong back and I took more than a tall bright.”
“More than a tall?”
Josah nods nervously. No one likes discussing how much money they have.
I guess you’ll be looking for an open cloak?
Josah laughs too eagerly. I’m not looking to get lurched. I’m putting mine in clay.
“I expect you’ll be looking for the old hen, then?”
Josah shrugs.
“Come now, no pullet for you?”
“I might. But right now I am just trying to pay my taxes and put the rest in clay.”
Smart,” says Randal, “You are smart.” To his companion he says, “Hear that, the boy’s gonna put it in clay. Ain’t that smart?”
There is more silence between them. Josah begins looking around at the windows and at the inside doors. He wonders, quite visibly, which of them leads outside, if any.
“That money from Treft, how much more than a tall did you get?”
“I told you I was heaving in Treft. My money is from making friends on the hoof.”
Randal waves absent-mindedly, “Yes, well how much did your friends give you?”
“About a tall, I said.” Josah is getting irritated and it shows.
“About?”
“Yeah, about.”
What? Are we talking heavy, here?”
“No, friendly.”
“Now, I’m from way back, but I know that I heard every friendly clink I ever ran.
Josah shrugs and amends his claim reluctantly, “Okay, I made more than a tall.”
“More than a tall?”
Josah nods slowly. Everyone keeps a little something back. Everyone does.
“So, is it closer to two tall?”
Josah takes another drink and doesn’t answer. His eyes narrow and fix firmly on the men before him.
“Or, is it maybe more like three?”
Josah shrugs again, he isuncomfortable at being read so clearly. Hiis eyes narrow as he tries to seewhat is going on behind Randal’s eyes. He doesn’t even want to speak.
“Maybe closer to three tall, plus six large and five hits, plus maybe a palm and a half of shiny?”
Suddenly, Josah stands, knocking the table and spilling his companion’s drinks. His own cup rolls off the table,and Nobs caught both it and Josah’s wrist before either makes much progress.
Josah’s eyes widen as he stares at the man before him.
Nobs grins widely.
“I’m just trying to pay my taxes,” Josah insists, softly.
“Well, you riggled out of Watersedge fast enough,” accuses Randal.
“No,” insists Josah. “You got me wrong. I’m from Treft.”
“But you don’t know Timo, right?”
“Well, my crew was small,” cries Josah. “I didn’t meet no bowmen. A town like Treft, you can’t know everyone. It’s too damn big. You don’t know all the Divers here, do you?”
“Timo is the Gentleman in Treft,” Randal corrects. “You can run in any walls without knowing a bowman, or an Old Man, or even the Prince, but every good lad knows the Gentleman, don’t he?
Josah moans, “Timo, yeah, I thought you said he was a Bowman. I didn’t know you meant the Gentleman. Yeah, of course. Everyone knows Timo. Left him a fancy once.
Randal puts a hand on Nobs’shoulder. “Wait a minute, Nobs, maybe he’s straight.”
Josah licks his lips and begins prattling wildly about Timo the Gentleman and the tip he left for him last. He goes so far as to describe him and his mode of dress, in lengthy, if vague, terms.
“Yeah that sounds like Timo,” Randal agrees.
Josah nods anxiously and tugs backa little against Nob’s grip. It is unyielding. “You bet it does. Me and Timo go way back. I used to grope, you know. Before I was running, I was a groping boy. I’m not too proud to say. Timo taught me everything I knew.
Randal whistles. “Timo taught you everything in Treft?”
Josah agrees vehemently, “Everything.”
He didn’t tell you that Timo was the town Miller, mean as can be and sleepy as an afternoon before the bawler?
Josah stops pulling against Nobs and lets his shoulder hang.
“Sit down,” Randal commands.
Josah flops into his chair.
“Ain’t no need to go tearing off.Your riggling is over and besides Nobs hereisn’t going to hug you here in public.”
Josah moans again and then an idea hits him. “I can pay you,” he says quickly. I can give you a wide slice.”
“A whole half?”
“Make it the pie,” insists Josah without hesitation.
“Very generous,” agrees Randal, “But there is still a problem.”
“I’ll give you my full stomach,” Josah comes again. “Today. Now. There is noproblem.”
Randal looks at Nobs and they share a look. Randal looks back at Josah.
“Do you know who I am?” Randal asks.
Josah nods nervously. “I figure you for the Rutter and this one is your kin.”
Randal shakes his head slowly.
Josah’s mouth drops open.
“That’s right. The Hand. Perhaps its overkill for a Debbie, but everyone needs practice -- even me, lad.”
Randal rubs his chin then takes another quaff of his ale and motions to Josah’s mug with his own. “Your offer is tempting, but even if you gave me everything you took from your little napper in Watersedge, I’m afraid it still wouldn’t stop the salt I put in your ale.”
Josah's lips tremble but he squares his shoulders and stares at the mug in front of him. “I want you to know that I never winked.”
“No?”
Josah shakes his head, his eyes are resolute and his chin is firm. I napped, yes I did. I ran crooked and I got bent, but I never cackled and I never winked.
Okay, lad.
“You tell ‘em I never did,” Josah demands softly.
I will, lad.
“Sending the Hand after me and some… “ He looks at Nobs, “….scalpel. But I wasn’t no winker. You tell ‘em.”
Okay.
Josah rubs his eyes and looks tired.” I guess your salt is rubbing in.”
Randal nods slowly.
Josah laughs. “I was more afraid of Nobs than you!
Randal smiles slightly.
“Yeah, that is funny. The bleeding Hand.”
The man called Josah slowly puts his head down on the table and goes to sleep. He won’t wake up. He leaves the living world with the only pride a thief can muster. His companions finish their drinks slowly, leave a few coins on the table and walk out into the night.
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