The Yellow Silk - Don Bassingthwaite [49]
"Yes," Jacerryl gasped.
"Wonderful." Tycho stood up. "Why don't you just tell me where they are and we'll be on our way."
Jacerryl closed his eyes. "I don't have them anymore," he gulped. "I sold them already." Tycho hissed.
"Who did you sell them to?"
"The Hooded."
Tycho yelped sharply and grabbed his head. "No," he groaned. "You didn't." Jacerryl nodded. Tycho slid his hands down his face and looked at Jacerryl over his fingertips. "You idiot." He stepped forward and stomped down hard on Jacerryl's foot. Jacerryl yelped, too, and cringed. "You idiot!"
Li's other arm came up quickly and pushed him back, holding him at arm's length from Jacerryl. "Tycho! Stop that!" Li snapped. "Who's the Hooded?"
"One of Brin's rivals, another gang boss of dockside. He's bad. Not as outright nasty as Brin, but still not someone you want to sit down to dinner with." Tycho ran his fingers through his hair and paced around the room. "He's smart, though. He hasn't been in Spandeliyon much longer than Brin, a season at most, but he's coming up strong. Where Brin seized control through sheer ruthlessness, the Hooded is building himself up slowly. Slow and strong, very patient. And mysterious-no one knows who he is."
Li frowned. "Why not?"
"He always wears a hood," rasped Jacerryl. Tycho and Li looked back to him, Li almost as if he'd forgotten who was on the other end of his arm. "It's why they call him the Hooded. He wears bulky robes, so the most you can tell about him is that he's a big man. And he only speaks in a murmur and never directly to you, only through an interpreter." He smiled slightly. "Could I breathe a little bit more now, please?"
"No." Tycho sat down on Jacerryl's bed. Brin and the Hooded. He hadn't thought this could get any worse! "Bind me, Li! I don't want to go up against two gang bosses!" He glanced up. Li had a distant expression on his face, his mouth narrow in thought. Tycho's heart jumped. "You have an idea. Tell me you have an idea."
Li blinked and shook his head. "Why should the Hooded hide his identity?" Tycho groaned again.
"That's not an idea, Li. He probably has a perfectly respectable identity established somewhere else in the community-they say the Lords of Waterdeep wear masks when they're ruling and move among the people unsuspected when they aren't. If you're thinking that we could find out who he really is and force him to cough up the beljurils, don't bother. No one has figured out his identity in two years. We're not likely to do it overnight." He pushed himself up off the bed. "I think the best we can do is to go back to Brin, tell him that the Hooded has his gems now and that this weasel-" He jerked his head at Jacerryl. "-was the one who betrayed him, not me. That might satisfy him."
"Brin?" Jacerryl shrank back. "Brin knows?"
"No, I snuck back into Mard Dantakain's house for the fun of it. Yes, Brin knows!" He crossed his arms and stared down at Jacerryl. "I just hope he'll take you instead of me since this was all your-"
Sudden footsteps in the corridor and an insistent knocking on the bedchamber door interrupted him. "Master Jacerryl! Master Jacerryl!"
A servant-and not the perfidious chambermaid who had let them in! Tycho flinched. "What is it?" he demanded hastily, trying to imitate Jacerryl's voice. He leaped back to the bed and began bouncing on it vigorously. "Didn't Folco tell you I was busy?" He almost had to shout over the creaking wood.
The servant didn't go away. "I'm very sorry to bother you, sir, but it's Mistress Laera. She's not in her rooms."
"Maybe she's stepped out for the evening!"
"Sir?"
As he opened his mouth, searching desperately for something to say that would get rid of the servant, Jacerryl moved. Both legs hammered out at Li. The Shou twisted, but one of Jacerryl's boots connected anyway, a solid kick to the groin. Li choked and staggered back, doubled over. Jacerryl was screaming the instant Li's hand left his throat. "Get help, you moron! I'm being attacked! Get help!"
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