Jon Sprunk by Shadow's Son

Author:Shadow's Son
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy - General, Fantasy fiction, Fiction - Fantasy, General, Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9780575096004
Publisher: Victor Gollancz Limited
Published: 2010-09-15T07:23:51+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

tep, clack, slide.

Caim kept his head down as he shuffled through the door to the Blue Vine. A grimy, rust-colored robe covered his leathers, compliments of Madam Sanya, who had closets full of clothes left behind by old clients. The robe's deep hood concealed his face. A cane, gnarled and fireblackened, completed the ensemble.

Step, clack, slide.

He winced as he stepped into the wineshop's cool interior. His side pained him, but by leaning on the cane and dragging his right foot he could get around reasonably well, and the limp made his mendicant act all the more convincing. He just hoped he wouldn't have to leave in a hurry like last time.

The disguise had been his idea, but in truth he'd had little choice in the matter. Kit and Josey both agreed he shouldn't leave the brothel room without one. They argued that he wasn't up for fighting if it came to that, and he didn't disagree. Of course, his knives rested against his back under the heavy robe just in case.

His disguise, while serving admirably in the streets, was severely out of place in the Vine. As soon as Mistress Henninger noticed him, she rushed over with a look of alarm.

"Out you! There'll be no begging in here. Come round back later on and Cook will see if we have any scraps for you."

Caim winked from under the hood. "Relax, Mother. It's me."

She sucked in a deep breath, which threatened to burst her bodice. Thankfully, she kept her voice down. "Caim? You in trouble, sweetling?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Got a table for an old friend?"

"An old friend, eh? Of course."

Caim looked around as he followed the wine mistress. Nothing had changed in the Vine. He had half expected to see the place in shambles after his last visit, but whatever he released from the shadows hadn't caused as much damage as he feared. Except for some new holes in the grimy wattle, the place looked the same as ever.

Then he noticed the empty tables. It was past midday, a time when the Vine would normally be filling up. Yet there were only a handful of patrons scattered through the common room. Caim hid a grimace of discomfort as he slid into a hard wooden chair.

"Some wine?" Mother asked. "I got a good Calamian in stock this week."

"Just a small beer. And Mother?"

"Yes?"

"Don't hassle the chit in the red dress."

"What?"

Caim nodded in the direction of the front door, where Josey stood. With shutters over the windows and smoky hanging lamps, the Vine was kept dim. Everyone who entered paused for a moment on the stoop to let their eyes adjust. It was an effective way to size up newcomers, which was one of the reasons Caim liked the place. That, and Mother never watered down the drinks.

As he'd said at Madam Sanya's, the dress hadn't been enough of a disguise, but now even her own father, had he been alive, wouldn't recognize her. Her jet black locks had been dyed with henna and chamomile.

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