Silver Shadows - Elaine Cunningham [102]
This drinking hole suited his purpose perfectly. The crudely lettered sign outside labeled it The Race," a name taken from the channel of swift winds and dangerous waters that led into Firedrake Bay. Those ships that entered Port Kir ran a gauntlet of Nelanther pirates, a few of whom were bold enough to come ashore. Rumor had it that they drank here.
Hasheth found a corner table near some likely-looking toughs, one who sported a beard divided into twin prongs, the other of whom was more or less cleanshaven. A barmaid with an ale-soaked bodice and world-weary eyes came over to take his order.
"Wine, if you please," he demanded in an imitation of Achnib's pinched, querulous tones. He dropped his voice a notch or two. "I also need passage to Lantan, if such can be arranged."
The men at the next table exchanged glances. One of them propped his boots up on the empty chair at Hasheth's table.
"Couldn't help overhearing you. Might be that we could do the arranging you were speaking of."
Hasheth darted wary glances left and right, then leaned forward. "From Zazesspur? I would be grateful to you if this could be arranged, and swiftly."
"Oh, well, from Zazesapur," the other man said with more than a bit of sarcasm. "That's too easy by halt Sure you don't want to set sail from Evermeet, while you're at it?"
"I've business to attend in my home city," Hasheth said stiffly. "It should be concluded in ten days or so, and I need to leave quickly upon its conclusion. Can this be done?"
"Maybe, but it'll cost you. What were you thinking of paying?"
"I will pay you with information," he said in a low, furtive voice. "Tell me what cargo you prefer, and I can name you a likely ship, tell you her route and the strength of her crew. The merchant vessel will be guarded, but I can find out the name of the armed ship and help you place your own men upon it. Take over the escort ship, and the caravel and her cargo will be yours as well."
The first pirate picked at his teeth with a dirty fingernail as he considered this outrageous scenario. "And how would you be knowing so much? What's to say that this information you're eager to pay with is worth more than clay coins?"
Hasheth took a scrap of parchment and a bit of charcoal pencil from the bag tied to his augmented waistline. He scrawled a name and title on the sheet, then passed it to the men. They looked at him and burst into raucous laughter.
"What do you take us for, a coupla priests? Who learns to read but sandal-footed priests and wide-ass clerks?" hooted the bearded pirate. Nonetheless, he picked up the bit of paper and pocketed it, as Hasheth had hoped he might.
"My name is Achnib," Hasheth said with as much dignity as he thought the man he imitated could muster, "and I am chief scribe to Lord Hhune of Zazesspur."
"Hmm." This information seemed to impress the pirate. "But why the ten days, especially?"
"My lord is away on business. It behooves me to remove myself from the city before his return."
The men chuckled. "Been skimming, have you? Well, Lantan's a good place to be taking your coins. There's money to be made in some of them new weapons coming out off the island. Get in on the business early, and you'll likely do well."
"I require passage, not advice on my investments," Hasheth said in a haughty tone as he began to rise from his chair. "Do you wish to do business, or shall I look elsewhere?"
"Haul in your sails a might, lad," the bearded pirate said dryly. "You want to go to Lantan. Tell us what you know, and if it holds water then maybe we can see about getting you there."
This was precisely what Hasheth had hoped to hear. Let them ask questions about Achnib-the more the better.
When the arrangements were completed, an elated Hasheth made his way back toward the inn to rid