FIVE

Rescue

 

Larry’s eyes grew wide.

‘Alban Asher is a drunk!’ His small face showed more panic than disapproval and his tone was more surprised than angry.

fust think how you’d react if Larry had come to you with this stuff, Jimmy reminded himself. He’s not trying to hit you, and not even walking away.

‘You can’t be serious!’ the younger boy went on.

‘We’re desperate,’ Jimmy pointed out, making a shushing gesture; the Rest wasn’t as crowded as it had been after the new laws were announced, but it was still busier than usual: a lot of people, normally on the streets, were sleeping. ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures,’ he went on. Jimmy had heard that saying somewhere and liked the sound of it: he usually did, when something made for a good excuse.

‘Desperate, not stupid!’ Larry insisted.

‘Desperate measures often look stupid before they’re carried out,’ Jimmy said. ‘It’s a historical fact, you can look it up in the royal archives.’

‘I can’t get into the royal archives, and besides I can’t read!’ the younger boy shouted. His face was bright red and tears of frustration brightened his eyes. ‘But if I could I bet I could prove you wrong!’ He thumped his back against a wall and slid down to sit in a heap on the floor. ‘What are we gonna do?’ he wailed.

‘First,’ Jimmy said, leaning over him, ‘you can stop shouting, people are starting to stare.’

Actually, no one was looking. But then Mockers, being thieves and scoundrels, rarely stared; but they always eavesdropped and he couldn’t afford to be overheard. Nevertheless, saying so seemed to stiffen Larry’s spine. Jimmy had often noticed that nonsense at the right moment could do wonders, if it was the right nonsense.

‘Sorry,’ the boy said gruffly. ‘It’s just .. .’

‘Larry,’ Jimmy said, leaning close, ‘if you’ve got a better idea tell it to me. I want to hear it.’

His friend hung his head and slowly shook it.

‘All right. Look, if we get no further by using this we’re no further behind either. And even if Asher is a drunk he’s got the reputation for knowing his craft.’ He gave the boy a pat on the shoulder and a crooked grin. ‘If he didn’t someone from the Guild would have cut his throat by now. Which means he wouldn’t be working for me.’

Larry gave him a weak smile.

‘Have you got the rope?’ Jimmy asked.

The boy nodded. ‘Stowed it in the tunnel just behind the collapse and piled some rocks over it.’

‘Good.’ It must be well hidden, Jimmy thought. He had left a bunch of rags and a bottle of vinegar there before coming to Mocker’s Rest and he hadn’t seen it. ‘Well, let’s do it then,’ he said and started off.

Larry’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he caught up with the other thief quickly. ‘Now?’ he whispered.

‘The sooner the better,’ Jimmy said wisely. ‘And why not?’

Larry shook his head. ‘It’s daytime!’ he protested.

‘So, they won’t be expecting us,’ Jimmy replied, with a wink.

‘But there’ll be more guards, won’t there?’

‘Why should there be? Are the iron bars less sturdy during the day?’

‘No, I mean, they’re awake, in the keep walking around and acting like guards.’

Jimmy stopped abruptly and glared down at the younger boy. ‘You want to do this or not?’

‘Do!’ Larry said, nodding vigorously.

Looking him in the eye Jimmy said, ‘Then let’s do it!’

He strode off without looking back. After a brief silence, Jimmy smiled to hear Larry’s footsteps following. This would work and then he’d be a legend among the Mockers forever after. He carefully kept himself from thinking of the alternative - most of them involved ropes, sharp things or red-hot things, or things that were sharp and red-hot and applied to the tender parts of his body.

Jimmy the Hand was still less than fourteen years, more or less, and like most youngsters he felt as if he’d live forever. But like most Mockers he’d seen a great deal of death during those years; not enough to grant him a sense of his own mortality, but enough to teach him caution.

It was all Jimmy could do to force himself back into the half-collapsed tunnel and up the shaft that led into the main cell of Krondor’s dungeon. He’d spent most of his young life wandering reeking sewers and stinking alleyways so he was used to the stench and the velvet-deep darkness. But if a smell could be terrifying, this was. The stink seemed to creep up on him. It had hair and teeth and mean little eyes, it had a personality all of its own, a very bad personality that bore down on his spirit with an almost physical weight. But by telling himself that he’d never have to do this again Jimmy was able to meet the challenge. Tying the vinegar-soaked rag over his face, he put the bundle of rags and bottle of vinegar into his shirt for the others. He knew a fit of retching on the way down might land someone at the bottom of the shaft a lot faster and in much worse shape than they needed to be. Not that the vinegar smell helped a lot, but anything was better than a bare face here.

He pulled on some gloves, slung the knotted rope across his chest and began climbing.

It went faster this time because he knew what to expect, but his prayers to Ruthia were no less fervent. Once he reached the blockage he braced his feet and shoulders against the walls of the shaft, pulled off one glove, worked the tiny bottle from the pouch tied to his belt and broke the lead seal with his fingernail. Then he looked for a place to spill out the invisible drop.

The mortar just above him was quite smooth and Jimmy remembered Asher’s warning not to get the stuff on himself. Higher up, as though the mason was getting bored with the job or finding it harder to reach with his trowel, the work was messier, with little shelves and projections of cement making a good spot for the spell to be poured. But that meant pushing his arm and shoulder up close against that slimy hole. The very idea sent a surge of nausea through him, so he took a few slow, deep breaths, forcing himself to ignore the Smell and focused his mind on the goal.

Free the Mockers. Become famous. All the girls will admire you . .. once you’ve taken a bath.

Gradually his stomach calmed itself.

Part of the problem was that he still hadn’t been able to see anything in the bottle and his faith in the drunken magician wasn’t all that strong, in spite of what he’d said to Larry. He was more afraid they might fail than that they’d be caught and hanged.

‘Do it,’ he grumbled, gritting his teeth. As he’d said himself, it wasn’t as if there was anything better available.

Jimmy bit his lips and thrust his arm into the hole, aiming for a large projection he thought he could reach, but aiming blind since his arm cut off what little light filtered down from the cell above.

Dear Ruthia, he prayed, please don’t let me get this on myself. He braced his shoulders hard against the wall, quickly pulled the tiny stopper from the small vial, and tilted it away from his left hand, pressing the open mouth of the container against the mortar. He held it motionless for a long count of seconds, wondering how he was supposed to tell when the vial was empty. Finally, he assumed it had to be.

It was done, except for the waiting to see if the spell would work. He held his breath, pressed himself against the sides of the shaft walls, wondering what to expect.

He missed the first few grains of falling mortar but then a stone fell, hitting him on the thigh. It hadn’t occurred to him that there would be falling stones; then he remembered the iron grate above and hurriedly climbed back down again, some little part of him wailing in discontent. He’d have to go up again after all.

In less than a minute the heavy iron grate that had covered the shaft fell down with a crash on top of the dislodged stones and the heap of sand that had once been sturdy mortar.

Jimmy noted a cracked stone beneath it and blew out a relieved breath. Then he re-wet the rag he pulled over his mouth and nose with vinegar, rolled his shoulders to loosen the muscles and began climbing again. He found a ring of faces waiting for him when he got to the top and hands reached out to pull him up. He blinked for a moment; even the twilight dimness of the big cell seemed bright, after the passageways below. Feet rustled in the damp straw that covered the floor, and he could feel more than see the inmates gathering around him.

‘Jimmy!’

That was Flora’s voice; she elbowed her way through the crush and embraced him, recoiling instantly, her eyes wide, her pretty mouth contorted into a rictus of disgust. Considering the condition of the dungeon and its inhabitants, that said a great deal.

‘I know,’ he apologized quietly. ‘Quiet, unless you want the guards here! The smell can’t be helped.’ He pulled out the bundle of rags and the vinegar. ‘This will cut the smell, but it’s the only way out we could find.’

‘I can’t get down there,’ a legless beggar said.

‘Get down where?’ asked one of the blind ones.

‘Anyone who needs help getting down we can lower them with this rope,’ Jimmy said.

He slung it off and looked around for something to anchor it to, settling on the bars of the cell. He glanced anxiously out into the dim corridor but saw no one.

Good. If the excitement caused by his arrival hadn’t brought the guards running they were probably safe. At least for now. But then, why pay attention to a dungeon with no exit?

‘Why are you doing this?’ Flora asked him in a whisper. She smiled and shook her head, clearly embarrassed for him. ‘They aren’t going to keep us in here forever, you know.’

‘No they’re not,’ Jimmy said grimly. ‘Tomorrow or the next day they’re planning to hang the lot of you girls, and the beggars get fifty lashes apiece.’

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.

‘Now, you must go. The guard will rouse or another will come soon, and you must not be here. Return the wineskin and cloak as you found them. The guard must think he fell asleep. No matter what else, no one must know you saw me. If word reached the city I was near death, foolishly loyal men might seek to free me. Bloodshed on behalf of one already near death is pointless. Promise you’ll not mention this visit to anyone?’

They both said they would keep silent.

With surprising strength, Prince Erland demanded, ‘Not even to one another, lest someone overhear. Your oath!’

Jimmy blinked in surprise, but said, ‘By Ruthia and Banath, my oath, highness.’

Flora repeated the same oath and the Prince relaxed somewhat. ‘Good. Now go.’

Jimmy quickly returned the cloak and wineskin to the guard, taking a moment to pour a bit on the man’s face and down his tunic so that his sergeant would be less inclined to believe any stories about unexplainable slumbers, and turned to look back before he closed the cell door. He saw the Prince seem to shrink, becoming even smaller as he lay back and closed his eyes, and something in his heart twinged.

The two Mockers moved swiftly back to the large cell, not meeting anyone on the way. Inside they found the floor covered with sand.

‘Where did this come from?’ Flora wondered. ‘I swear it wasn’t here before.’

Jimmy looked up at the ceiling nervously, but it seemed solid. Then he looked over at the hole in the centre of the cell and saw a flood of sand pouring down through it. Oh, he thought and his heart sank. Asher had kept mumbling about ‘Something . . .’ Apparently the ‘something’ he’d forgotten was how much of the potion to use. Maybe only a part of a drop, while Jimmy had dumped the entire contents! It looked as if the potion was far more powerful than Jimmy had anticipated.

Which might just mean that the ceiling would be coming down imminently.

‘Let’s go!’ Jimmy said, giving Flora a shove.

She turned and gave him one back.

‘Now, Flora! Before this whole place comes down on us!’

The girl stared at him, her eyes wide. ‘Magic!’ she said. ‘You used magic!’

‘What else?’ he asked and thrust the rope into her hands. ‘Now go!’

By the time she turned to him, she was up to her waist in falling sand. ‘Don’t tell me you went to Alban Asher.’

‘At this point I’ll say anything you want, Flora!’ He waved her down. ‘Go! So that I can go. Please!’

The last thing she said before she disappeared into the hole was, ‘For the love of Banath, Jimmy, he’s a drunk!’

‘As if I didn’t know it,’ Jimmy muttered, taking hold of the rope.

This would be one of those times when the magician’s spell didn’t work as expected. Not exactly the way he’d planned for his name to pass into legend. But since, for the most part, this exploit had been a success Jimmy supposed he could accept this one little mishap. He pulled the cloth over his face, closed his eyes and went down the rancid shaft for the last time.

Laughing Jack smacked Jimmy hard enough to knock him down, then yanked him back up by his collar and shook him, hard.

‘Enough,’ the Nightmaster said.

Jack snapped a look at him, showing his teeth.

‘I said, enough,’ the Nightmaster repeated, quietly, but with an edge in his voice.

Laughing Jack let Jimmy go so suddenly the boy staggered.

‘You can go.’

Jack nodded, his expression showing his disagreement. Then he glared at Jimmy and turned and left, closing the door behind him.

They were in the upper room of a supposedly abandoned house in the Poor Quarter, and they could hear the floor creaking with every step the Nightwarden took as he walked away.

The Nightmaster shook his head and tsked. ‘You are too bold, Jimmy the Hand. Do you know that almost half a tower came down today? Straight down it fell, right into the west half of the dungeon. It’s a miracle that no one was killed.’

The Nightmaster’s face was bland, but Jimmy could hear a smile in his voice. It was all he could do not to smile in return.

‘Word is you were at the bottom of this mess,’ the Nightmaster went on. ‘And the Upright Man is most upset that you have, once again, disobeyed direct orders. Do you know what those orders were?’

Jimmy thought it best to deny that he did, so he shook his head.

‘Keep out of sight and do nothing. You don’t remember hearing that? How odd, when I have witnesses that you were present at the time those orders were issued.’ The Nightmaster sat forward and folded his hands before him on the desk.

‘You’ve put the Upright Man in a difficult position, Jimmy the Hand. You’ve deliberately disobeyed orders, yet you’ve also rescued over thirty Mockers from certain death.’ One corner of his mouth quirked upward. ‘Not to mention that you’ve managed to hide their escape. It will be months, if ever, before del Garza discovers there are no bodies under all that stone. With those terrible rats down there gnawing on the corpses and the main sewers flooding with the spring rain, why even the bones will be washed out to sea before the workers get down there.’ The Nightmaster fought to keep a smile from spreading too broadly as he added, ‘Without his even knowing it, you’ve made our enemy look very foolish.’

The Nightmaster spread his hands. ‘Yet, what can we do? The Upright Man’s thankful you’ve saved thirty of your brethren, but he’s still got to cut your throat and throw you in the bay. If such a breach of orders goes unpunished then others will believe that they, too, can do whatever the bloody hell they wish. Others far less clever, or lucky, than yourself. That way lies chaos and Old Night.’ He rubbed his upper lip and stared at Jimmy. ‘Of course, if you can’t be found to be punished, then perhaps it will all blow over and nothing will need to be done at all. After all, every once in a while the Upright Man offers a general amnesty.’ He leaned back, not taking his eyes from the boy.

Jimmy nodded. The amnesty was offered to all who came forward and confessed their transgressions. It usually required that any loot not shared out as it should be had to be offered along with the promise not to do it again. Jimmy thought it a good idea, as it made for a little extra something in the share out after the Upright Man and his crew took their cut, and it made it easier for the Daymaster and Nightmaster to know who to watch for double-dealing. It also kept the Upright Man from having to kill off all the members, as sooner or later every Mocker ended up breaking one rule or another. But, it would also apply to someone who disobeyed orders!

Jimmy said, ‘Can’t be found? As in can’t be found, or can’t be found because he was dropped into the harbour with heavy weights?’

‘The first. If you were to leave Krondor, and travel around a bit... Travelling is said to be very educational, and in this case it would be very good for your health.’

Jimmy felt his gullet tighten and a heavy weight settle under his breastbone. He stammered: ‘B-but I’ve never, n-never been out of Krondor before in my life!’

The Nightmaster leaned forward again. ‘Let me put it to you this way - either take yourself off, or take what’s coming to you. Am I clear?’

‘Absolutely.’ Jimmy forced calm on himself. How bad could it be? Other people managed to live beyond Krondor. There was a whole world out there to explore!

He was homesick already.

‘Then you may go.’ The Nightmaster looked at Jimmy from under his eyebrows. ‘And when I say go I mean far away. Just in case you didn’t understand the first time I said it.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Jimmy darted out of the Nightwarden’s room, past a snarling Laughing Jack, and headed quickly out of Mocker’s Rest. He had to go fetch his gold before nightfall, then find a way safely to the caravanserai outside the eastern gate. He would somehow get past the guards - he had no doubt of his ability to do that - then either beg or buy his way onto the first caravan heading east or north. He might be told to go far, but he would stay in the Kingdom and not risk heading down into the deserts and Great Kesh beyond.

Feeling nervous and excited in equal measures, he hurried into the sewers one more time.