Warlock's Shadow Read Free

any to see if there were new ships in the harbour, to see whether it was worth a closer look.
    Habit made him pause, but it was raining. The harbour vanished into a murky grey haze. If any ships had weighed anchor since yesterday, they’d still be there tomorrow. Berren’s prince, on the other hand, might not.
    Stopping to look at the ships wasn’t the only old habit that refused to die. He snatched a hot dough-ball while no one was looking and ate it, laughing, as he ran on.

2
PENNIES AND PRINCES IN A POOL
     
    B y the time he reached the Watchman’s Arms he was soaked. His shirt and breeches stuck to him like a second skin. He ran straight through the commoners room up the stairs to the rooms above, dived through a door, slammed it closed and had already pulled his shirt half off when he realised that he wasn’t alone.
    ‘Hello, Berren.’
    ‘Master Mardan.’ Berren paused. On the one hand, Mardan was a thief-taker like Syannis, his own master. Whenever he went with Master Sy to the Eight Pillars of Smoke, the tavern behind the city Courthouse where the thief-takers gathered, Mardan was always there. He and Master Sy were old friends.
    On the other hand, as far as Berren knew, Mardan wasn’t supposed to be here. He finished taking off his shirt and then stood, tense, holding it, idly twirling it. A wet shirt all twisted up tight made a fine enough weapon in a pinch. At least it did when you had nothing else.
    ‘Syannis is down below.’ Mardan was watching the shirt too closely not to have realised what Berren was doing. He chuckled and looked down at the floor. There were three mattresses where this morning there had been two. ‘The justicar still isn’t happy that His Highness has enough of us around him. Me, I try telling him – the more people you put here, the more chance one of them has itchy pockets. I try telling him he should keep Syannis here and send everyone else away, but he just doesn’t listen.’ Mardan gave an exaggerated shrug. ‘Or maybe Kol sent me here for my wit and charm. I hear His Highness finds Syannis a tad dismal and dull. Who’d have thought, eh?’ He shrugged. ‘Trouble is, doesn’t matter how many thief-takers and so forth you pack together, it doesn’t change how many rooms they have.’
    Berren dropped his shirt. Still wary, he dried himself and dressed in his best clothes, the one set he had that didn’t make him look like what he was – an orphan boy from Shipwrights’ who happened to fall out the right side of the ship. A white shirt with frills around the bottom and dark blue breeches with a bright strip of yellow down either side. Master Sy had gone on and on about how hard it had been getting the colours right. Picking ones that wouldn’t mean something. Apparently that was extraordinarily difficult around this particular prince.
    ‘Have you … Have you met him?’
    ‘Syannis? Yes, he’s down …’
    Berren shook his head. ‘The Prince, Master Mardan.’
    Mardan laughed. ‘His Highness, I think you mean. No, not me. Syannis gets the special treatment because he knows his manners. The rest of us, we guard the doors and frisk the commoners.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, from what I hear His Highness was up for most of the night. I imagine he’s nursing a crippling hangover. I think he might have a couple of ladies from up on Reeper Hill helping him to get his strength back too.’ Mardan smirked. ‘Mind, from what I’ve seen , I reckon I’m going to enjoy frisking some of the commoners here.’ He wiggled his fingers suggestively. ‘Come on, lad. Let’s see if we can’t find your master down below. And if we can’t, let’s see if we can’t find us a bedwarmer or two, eh?’
    Berren shrugged. Truth was, he didn’t much like Master Mardan. He didn’t much like the justicar or Teacher Sterm either, but Mardan was different. Mardan was creepy. The rest of them treated him like he was still a child. Mardan did that too, but he kept acting like he