Mistress of the Night - Don Bassingthwaite [65]
CHAPTER 9
Drinking. Singing. Stumbling from tavern to tavern to tavern by night, then by day, then by night again. A fight. Another fight. Just like old times; Jarull by his side. Better because Starne, Baret, and Talisk were there as well.
And better because of the dark secret in his heart: Shar's favor. The Mistress of the Night's plans for him.
Variance had told him to let his spirit burn. Keph let it rage like an inferno until it seemed as if every tavern in the Stiltways-and some beyond-knew his name and face. Until even Baret, Starne, and Talisk had, one by one, dropped away, unable to keep up. Until it was just him and Jarull striding the nights once again.
"All right, tosspots, up. Up! Time to go home!"
A guard ran a stick along the bars of the cell while another unlocked the door and swung it wide.
Keph opened sticky eyes to the harmony of squealing hinges and groaning drunks. He sat up on the rough wooden bench he'd managed to claim and looked around at the disorderly cell in Yhaunn's north side guard station-a fine place to spend the night. He hauled himself to his feet and joined the other men and women the city guard had brought in during the night before as they filed out the door, then formed a queue to retrieve any possessions they had been arrested with.
There was no sign of Jarull. A hazy memory swam into Keph's mind: a dash away from the pursuing guard, an ignoble tumble as his foot landed in something wet and slippery, Jarull continuing on and vanishing into the shadows. Lucky Jarull.
The guard at the desk raised her eyebrows as he stepped up.
"Good morning again, Keph. Sleep well?" she asked.
"I think a rat crawled into my mouth while I slept, Fris. You should do something about the pests around here."
"Well, we shove them out the door every morning, but it seems like more just crawl in every night." She pushed Quick and a coin pouch across the desk to him. "Twice in three days you've landed here. Let's try to get it back down to once a month like old times, eh?"
"Your concern is noted, Fris."
Keph wiggled his fingers into his pouch. It was a flat and shriveled thing, wasted away by the past few days' activities. He found a couple of silver coins, though, and slid them back to the guard. She made them disappear as the next inmate stepped up. Keph buckled Quick back around his waist and headed for the guard station's big door.
The light of early morning hit him like a god's vengeance. He groaned and threw up a hand to shade his eyes. The air was already uncomfortably warm. It was going to be a very hot day. With luck he would be able to sleep through most of it.
It was a long, painful stagger to Fourstaves House. His head throbbed, his joints ached, and his mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with wool combed from a sheep's backside. At a public well, he stopped, drew up a bucket of water, and tried to rinse the foul taste from his mouth. The rest of the water he poured over his head until he was gasping from the cold. His hair was still dripping when he reached the doors of Fourstaves House, but at least the pain in his head had ebbed and faded.
The stone guard dogs were still as statues by daylight. Keph resisted the urge to kick them anyway and went inside. The entry hall was filled with savory odors that cut through his hangover to make his stomach growl with desire. Following his nose, he stumbled for the dining room.
Strasus, Dagnalla, Malia, Roderio, and Krin Foxrun were all seated at one end of the table. They fell silent as he walked in. He ignored them and walked straight for the covered trays and dishes set out on a sideboard. Conversation returned slowly.
"I think I've found a clue in the coins of the cache," Krin said. "The other artifacts may be ancient Netherese, but most of the coins are more recent and come from one of Netheril's survivor states, Anauria. Unfortunately, I wasn't