He worked his way along the edge so that he could see down into the forecourt. And there they were, Madrun and Lazan Door, throwing knuckles against the wall to the left of the main gate. He heard the door of the house open directly beneath him and saw the carpet of light unfold on the steps and pave-stones, and the silhouette of the man standing in the doorway was instantly recognizable. Studlock, Studious Lock. Not moving at all, just watching, but watching what?
Knuckles pattered, bounced on stone, then settled, and the two compound guards hunched down over them to study the cast.
And Torvald Nom saw both men slowly straighten, and turn as one to face the man standing in the doorway.
Who must have stepped back inside, softly closing the door.
There was a scuffle somewhere behind him and Torvald Nom spun round. It was too damned dark — where was the moon? Hiding somewhere behind the storm clouds, of course, and he glanced up. And saw a sweep of bright stars.
He tried a few deep breaths to slow the frantic beat of his heart. At least he’d pre shy;pared himself. All his instincts strumming like taut wires, he’d done all he could.
Scorch looked startled, but then he always looked startled.
‘Relax,’ hissed Leff, ‘you’re driving me to distraction.’
‘Hey, you hear something?’
‘No.’
‘Exactly.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? We ain’t hearing nothing. Good. That means there’s nothing to hear.’
‘They stopped.’
‘Who stopped?’
‘Them, the ones on the other side of the gate, right? They stopped.’
‘Well, thank Hood,’ said Leff. ‘Those knuckles was driving me crazy. Every damned night, on and on and on. Click clack click clack, gods below. I never knew Seguleh were such gamblers — it’s a sickness, you know, an addiction. No wonder they lost their masks — probably in a bet. Picture it. “Ug, got nuffin but this mask, and m’luck’s boot to change, ’sgot to, right? So, I’m in — look, ’sa good mask! Ug.”’
‘That would’ve been a mistake,’ Scorch said, nodding. ‘If you don’t want nobody to know you’re bluffing, what better way than to wear a mask? So, they lost ’em and it’s been downhill ever since. Yeah, that makes sense, but it’s got me thinking, Leff.’
‘’Bout what?’
‘Well, the Seguleh. Hey, maybe they’re
Leff nodded back. This was better. Distract the fidgety idiot. All right, maybe things didn’t feel quite right. Maybe there was a stink in the air that had nothing to do with smell, and maybe he had sweat trickling down under his armour, and he was keeping his hand close to the sword at his belt and eyeing the crossbow leaning against the gate. Was it cocked? It was cocked.
Cutter halted the horse and sat, leaning forward on the saddle, studying the ship moored alongside the dock. No lights showed. Had Spite gone to bed this early? That seemed unlikely. He hesitated. He wasn’t even sure why he had come here. Did he think he’d find Scillara?
That was possible, but if so it was a grotesque desire, revealing an ugly side to his nature that he did not want to examine for very long, if at all. He had pretty much abandoned her. She was a stranger to Darujhistan — he should have done better. He should have been a friend.
How many more lives could he ruin? If justice existed, it was indeed appropriate that he ruin himself as well. The sooner the better, in fact. Grief and self-pity seemed but faint variations on the same heady brew that was self-indulgence — did he really want to drown Scillara in his pathetic tears?
No, Spite would be better — he’d get three words out and she’d start slapping him senseless.
