The thief-taker led the way to the docks. Most of the buildings that faced the sea were great wooden frames walled up with bricks, little more than shells for storing the mountains of kegs, barrels, crates, sacks and chests that flowed in and out of the city. The thief-taker walked on past all of those up to the Wrecking Point end of the harbour near the Reeper Gate. There was a huge stone building here, almost like a castle with tall walls and windows that were high above the ground and barred tight enough that not even a boy-thief could slip between them. The gate was open but there were guards on it, the Emperor’s guards no less, with their swords and the burning eagle on their chest. An archway ran past the gate and the guards, into darkness between black walls of shadow.
‘Been here before?’ asked Master Sy. He jangled his stolen keys.
Berren shook his head. There were no ships anchored at this end of the bay, no crowds of drunken sailors or grumbling labourers here. It wasn’t the sort of place where raggedy dock-boys were welcome, and in his time with Master Hatchet he’d learned to avoid the Emperor’s guards.
‘First time for everything then.’ Master Sy slapped him on the shoulder. ‘The Emperor’s House of Records. Although I doubt the Emperor himself has the first idea that he has such a thing.’ He walked towards the gates, brazenly in the open. The soldiers stiffened but then relaxed again.
‘Master thief-taker,’ nodded one. Syannis stopped in front of them, in the lamplight pooled in front of the gate. He turned and took his time to look back over the docks.
‘Busy night?’
‘Quiet. You got business here?’
‘Yes.’ Berren had never heard a lie slip well off his master’s tongue, but he was hearing it now. Selling silk and honey, old Hatchet would have said. ‘Questions for our harbour-masters. A few answers too.’
‘They’ll be out and in their cups by now.’ The guards exchanged a laugh as they stood aside. The thief-taker lingered for a few moments longer and then walked on between them, down a vaulted passage that led into a large open square. They paused there, in the shadows. Berren looked around, taking it all in. The buildings here weren’t like the rest of the docks. They were smaller and made of stone, with chimneys and windows that made them look like people actually lived in them. Some of them even had lanterns burning over the doors and snuffers slouching outside them. The snuffers up here were supposed to be even worse than the ones on Reeper Hill.
‘These houses belong to the factors for the merchant princes,’ murmured Master Sy as he scanned the darkness. ‘The Headsman comes up here every morning. He goes to the House of Records. That’s where the harbour-masters keep all the logs of which ships are in the harbour, when they arrived, when they’re leaving, that sort of thing. They keep their manifests there too, but they also have strongrooms with iron doors and the best locks in the city. There for anyone who can afford them.’
Berren screwed his face up. ‘Master?’
‘The Headsman’s keeping something in there. Something too precious to keep with him at the Two Cranes but not something he can keep on his ship. I want to know what it is.’
A realisation bloomed in Berren’s head. ‘If you knew what was on each of the ships, you’d know which ones were worth stealing from …’
Master Sy was laughing. ‘You’re about two years late, lad.’
‘Eh?’
‘VenDormen.’
Berren shuddered. VenDormen was the man who’d tried to have them killed, a harbour-master who’d been running a gang of pirates on the quiet.
‘He was selling secrets from the House of Records. So now you see why only the harbour-masters and the most trusted officers of the merchant guild have a key. Yet my one-eyed friend has one too. And now so do I. Did he steal his? Did someone give it to him? If they did, who? And why? Tonight we find some answers.’
Berren scratched his nose. ‘So we’re … we are looking for pirates again. Are we?’
He knew at once that he was wrong. For a moment he thought Master Sy would get angry with him, but all the thief-taker did was shake his head. ‘No, Berren, I have an idea there’s more to this than simple theft.’ He laughed. ‘Mind you, there might not be. The Headsman wasn’t much more than a pirate when I knew him last. Could be money in this. You might get a few coppers or even a crown or two for catching a pickpocket. But merchants hate pirates. Catch Raider Yammek, and there’s a reward of a hundred emperors to be had.’
‘A hundred!’ Berren felt himself go cold. ‘That’s enough to …’
‘Quite.’ Master Sy put a finger to his lips and dropped to a crouch. ‘Enough to buy a really good sword. Now, do you see that each door has a coat of arms over it?’
Berren nodded, not daring to speak.
‘Those are the coats of arms of the merchant houses. They shelter behind the Emperor’s swords. But that one there …’ Master Sy pointed to a dark corner of the square. ‘Through that arch and down the end of another alley is the House of Records itself. Down there you’ll find the arms of the Overlord of Deepwater. Do you think you can get there without anyone seeing you?’
Berren nodded again.
‘Take the keys. One of them will fit the lock. I’ll keep these snuffers busy. Best if you don’t let them see you. Once you’re in the alley it should be dark enough, but you need to be quiet, lad. Stay close to the door when you’re inside. Stay quiet and wait for me. I won’t be long.’
‘But won’t they see you, master?’
‘Why yes, I think they will.’ He bared his teeth. ‘Got to make sure the Headsman finds out what I’m up to somehow, eh lad? But best if they think it’s only me. Just in case.’
‘But the guards on the gate! They already saw me!’
The thief-taker shook his head. ‘Imagine you’re the Headsman. Imagine you have the choice of bribing a few of the Emperor’s men or a few snuffers. Which would you choose?’ The answer to that was obvious – snuffers were swords for hire and people paid them for their eyes all the time. The Emperor’s soldiers, they were a different matter.
Master Sy smiled. ‘Exactly. He won’t even think of it. Now: once we’re inside, you keep quiet and you keep out of the way. Someone will come, one of the Headsman’s henchmen. They’ll bring snuffers of their own and I don’t know how many. Whatever you see tonight, you keep it to yourself. If anything happens to me, you tell Kol and no one else, no matter what it is or what happens or who asks you. Got that?’
Berren nodded. This was the sort of thing Master Hatchet might once have told him to do, only with vastly more ambition. He set his sights on the door. In his head, he worked his way back to where he stood, darting from shadow to shadow. Another thrill of excitement shuddered inside him – this was more like thieving than thief-taking, and it was the most fun he’d had in … Probably since he’d stolen away on that boat to Siltside.
He took one last careful look at the snuffers guarding the various doorways. They looked bored and sleepy. None of them were alert or on the lookout. Then he moved, slipping around the fringes of the lamplight, careful to stay in the shadows, closer and closer until he reached the darkness of the alley. No one stopped him. No one shouted after him. He heard Master Sy talking to a snuffer somewhere and then he slipped down the alley. It was short, just leading to another door that was almost lost in the night. He looked up at the coat of arms above him – a dark triangle on a pale field. In the starlight, he couldn’t see the eagle but he didn’t need to. These weren’t simply the arms of the city Overlord, they were the arms of the Emperor himself! He fingered the golden token around his neck and smiled. Would the prince who’d given it to him approve? Probably not, but he wasn’t entirely sure.
His fingers felt around the edges of the door until they found the lock. As quickly as he could, he went through the keys until he found the one that fitted. Then he opened the door and slipped inside, tip-toeing quickly, room to room, checking to be sure he was alone. There were two large downstairs rooms at the front, four small ones on the first floor, four more on the second. They were all empty. A single passage led into the back of the house, pitch black stone walls lined with strong heavy doors. Each one carried a coat of arms. Berren traced them with his fingers. He could picture them – the symbols of the city merchant houses. The doors were all locked. He wondered whether to try some more of the keys, then thought better of it.
A moment later, Master Sy was at the door. He was limping again.
‘Well done!’ he said. Berren swelled with pride. ‘Good work.’
‘I looked. There’s no one else here. Didn’t see much though. Just lots of paper.’
‘With writing on. Yes. I hope after tonight you’ll see why I wanted you to learn letters.’ The thief-taker was whispering even though the house was empty. He quietly closed the door behind him. Berren was trembling with excitement.
‘What now, master? Are we here to take something?’
‘Secrets, that’s what we’re after. One of those snuffers couldn’t wait to run off as soon as he saw me. He’ll go to the Two Cranes. How long to get there, do you reckon, at a run?’
‘Five minutes, maybe?’
‘And then he’s going to look for the Headsman, but we already know the Headsman isn’t there, so that’ll slow him down a bit. Say another couple of minutes and then another five for the Headsman’s snuffers to get here.’ The thief-taker stretched and massaged his knee. ‘Might as well take a quick look at whatever there is for us to see while we’re waiting.’ He strode into the first of the downstairs rooms, the biggest in the house, with a large table and a dozen chairs laid around it.
‘We’re going to wait for them?’ Berren gulped.
‘Don’t know how else we’re going to find out which strongbox is the right one, and even if we did find it on our own, I doubt we’ve got the keys to that.’ Master Sy picked up a piece of paper and a quill. ‘Here, make yourself useful. I want you to search for something.’ He wrote some letters down and gave Berren the paper. ‘If you see anything with this name, you bring it to me.’ Berren looked at the paper and screwed up his eyes in concentration. Radek of Kalda. ‘And make a mess. When the harbour-masters come in tomorrow, I want them to know that someone was here, even if they don’t know who it was.’
‘But they’ll know that from the guards!’
The thief-taker smiled nastily. ‘Yes, lad. They will.’
They moved from room to room. Master Sy tore open drawers and scattered papers across the floor. Berren followed. After a few minutes, the thief-taker stopped.
‘Give me the keys,’ he snapped. Berren tossed them to him. He paused, listening out but there was nothing to hear. ‘Go upstairs. Hide. Stay there and stay out of sight. I’ll be down the back. And listen: you hear anyone come in, you don’t move a muscle, lad. You leave the rest to me.’ Master Sy vanished into the darkness. Berren heard the keys jingle for a few seconds after he was gone, then nothing. He crept up the stairs and set about searching for a good place to hide, but in the dark, everywhere seemed as good as everywhere else. Idly, he picked up a few papers that lay on a desk. They came in different types, he realised, after he’d tried to read a few. Some of them even had the Emperor’s seal on the bottom! There were lists of which ships were in the harbour. For each ship, there were lists of what cargo the ship had brought and what cargo it was taking away. He had to go to a window and hold the papers up to the moonlight to even read them at all. It was hard work and it took so much of his attention that he almost didn’t hear the door at the front of the house open.
‘We should get the watch,’ murmured a voice from downstairs. Berren froze. Gods! That was quick! He crept to a corner by the windows where he could hide in a little alcove behind an old heavy desk.
‘Oh no. If he’s here, I don’t want the watch being around.’
Berren crouched down and huddled back as deep into the shadows as he could go.
‘Just him, right? Him and maybe his boy.’
‘Right bloody mess he’s made, that’s for sure.’
‘Never mind that,’ snapped a new voice. Berren stifled a gasp. Was that the man with the cane and the grating laugh? Could that be right? There couldn’t be many voices like that in Deephaven, not in the whole world! But they’d seen him leaving the Two Cranes! He wasn’t supposed to be here! ‘I don’t give a fox’s beard about all this crap. He’s been here and if we’re lucky then he’s still here and you can do what I pay you for.’ There was some shuffling and then the creak of footfalls on the stairs. ‘You! Go on! Check upstairs! You! You come with me. I want to see if he’s found the strongbox.’
Strongbox? Berren’s ears pricked up.
The door to the room where Berren was hiding eased silently open. Berren crouched down, pressing himself even further back into the shadows. The man with the cane had snuffers with him and all Berren had was his stupid wooden waster. His heart beat faster, climbing up his throat. He could run, that’s what he could do. He could run for the door and away like the wind. His legs tensed …
The thief-taker slipped into the room and eased the door shut behind him. Berren caught a glimpse of him in the frail light that filtered in through the windows. The feet on the stairs reached the top. In silence, Master Sy crept behind the door. He opened his coat and drew the stubby sword he carried.
‘Who’s here?’ called the snuffer at the top of the stairs. ‘I know there’s someone here. I can smell you. Show yourself or it’ll be the worse for you.’
Master Sy took a tiny step closer to the door.
‘The watch is on its way. Show yourself now!’ The voice dropped. ‘Look, I don’t care what it is between you and them foreigners. We can come to some arrangement. I’ll say you were already gone. But, by Khrozus, if you don’t show yourselves right now, I’m going to kill you.’
Berren’s heart jumped. He’d seen these snuffers and knew how they were armed, with long curved cavalry swords left over from the civil war or with short straight blades like Master Sy. The ones he’d seen with the Headsman had worn padded jackets, maybe even lined with mail …
He looked towards the door but Master Sy hadn’t moved. He was still standing motionless, his sword held at the ready.
‘No one down here,’ shouted a voice from downstairs. Berren heard a second pair of boots climbing the stairs. ‘Someone’s been in the room but they didn’t find the box. I say he’s already been and gone.’
‘Well someone’s up here,’ said the first snuffer. He must have been right outside the door. ‘I can feel it.’
‘I still say we should go out and get the Emperor’s men.’
‘And how do we explain what we’re doing here, eh? Khrozus! What a festival of shit this is!’
‘Kelm’s Teeth! Look at this mess.’
‘If he’s here then you’re going to find him,’ bellowed the man with the cane. ‘You find him right now and you kill him. If he’s gone then you still find him and you still kill him. You dogs clear about that? The Headsman’s going to have a fit.’
Footfalls sounded on the hall outside. Berren saw Master Sy ready his sword. He was holding it in front of his face now, the blade horizontal, pointing at the door. His other hand reached out …