The Yellow Silk - Don Bassingthwaite [82]
Lander looked from one wizard to the other and tried to back out of the room as discretely as he could. Hanibaz's eyes caught him first, however. "Friend Lander, a question for you. Is what Brin told us of the Yellow Silk of Kuang true?"
No spell that Lander could sense backed up the question or demanded a truthful answer. It was better not to try cheating a mage, though, a Red Wizard especially. "What I know of it is," he said carefully. "Last night I saw bolts of bright light that exploded with enough heat to melt snow and set wood smoldering. I think I caught a glimpse of a man I'd swear was no mage hurling them."
"And yet Brin knows all about the Silk," murmured Hanibaz.
"Or claims to." Mosi set his scroll aside. Lander expected it to snap back into a curl, but the roll of parchment stayed open as if held by invisible hands. Mosi turned a piercing gaze on him. "How does a one-eyed hin, a former pirate, learn so much about such an exotic artifact? Brin strikes me as an unlikely student of eastern mageries."
"Especially considering," added Hanibaz thoughtfully, "that according to his own story, the Yellow Silk has been something of a well-guarded secret for centuries."
Lander swallowed. "I don't know," he answered. "I hadn't even heard him mention it until last night and I only heard its story when Brin told it to you." He took a quick step toward the door and groped behind his back for the handle. "I'll ask him for you when he returns!"
His fingers found the handle. He twisted it and ducked through the door before the wizards could ask anything else, all but slamming it behind him. Every eye in the Eel turned to stare at him. Lander glared back and gave a growl. "Mind your own lines, gutgrinders!" He stalked over to the bar and slapped his hand down. The bartender put a mug of ale in front of him quickly.
A door opened and he caught the squealing of pigs. Grabbing his mug, Lander hurried to the back of the festhall. Brin was just pulling closed the curtains of the gambling room. "Nobody goes in there," he said.
"Hanibaz and Mosi are getting impatient. Do you have the Yellow Silk?"
Brin pulled him out through the back door and into the pigsty. Black Scratch looked up from kicking at straw and snorted at Lander. The thug glowered back at him. "They'll just have to wait a little longer," said Brin. He grabbed Lander's mug out of his hand and gulped at it as he walked across the sty to jump up on his table. "Everything's taken care of. Everything's in motion."
"Everything?" Lander gave Brin a cautious look. "What everything?"
"Don't think about it. The Yellow Silk will be coming to us." He drained the mug and thumped it down on the tabletop. "I sent the man I left watching the building in Bakers Way off to find your men and as many others as he can gather up."
"Who's watching Tycho's rooms, then?"
Brin smiled. "They don't need watching anymore. I told you, everything's in motion. The only thing I need you to do is clear out the Eel once the men get here." Lander hissed in surprise. Brin shrugged. "Don't worry, we'll be open again before the moon comes up."
"You're expecting a fight."
"Bitch Queen's mercy, I hope so." The halfling's smile turned savage.
The door to the Eel swung open. Jacerryl Dantakain stood framed in the doorway, leaning on it for support. He looked bad. His usually well-dressed hair looked like it had been combed into position with his fingers, his clothes were streaked with muck, and his face was marked with some very colorful bruises. When he pushed himself off the door frame, he staggered. "Brin!" he gasped. "We need to talk!"
Lander started forward, but Brin grabbed his arm and gave a quick shake of his head. "Just go close the door," he said. Lander blinked, but nodded. As he pushed past Jacerryl, he could smell wine even over the stink of the sty. The man's stagger wasn't due to any injury.
"What is it, Jacerryl?" Brin asked mildly. Jacerryl wobbled a little closer to him.
"It's Tycho," he said. "He's gone bad-him and that Shou friend of his. They