‘To keep in practice, I suppose,’ Talen shrugged. ‘You’ll twist my arm until I tell you, won’t you, Sparhawk?’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’
‘All right,’ Talen sighed. ‘There are thieves in the streets of the inner city, and there are a lot of interesting things going on out beyond the walls. I managed to find a way to slip out there. I’ve been selling that information.’
‘How’s business?’ Patriarch Emban asked him. Emban’s eyes were bright.
‘Not too bad, actually,’ Talen said professionally. ‘Most of the thieves here inside the walls don’t have too much to bargain with. You don’t make much profit sitting on the things you’ve stolen, but I’m easy to do business with. I just charge them a percentage of what they’re able to steal from the soldiers outside the walls.’
‘Open the sack, Talen,’ Sparhawk ordered him.
‘I’m really shocked at you, Sparhawk,’ Talen said. ‘There are holy men in this room. Is it really proper to expose them to – well, you know.’
‘Open the sack, Talen.’
The boy sighed, laid the sack on Sir Nashan’s desk and opened it. There were a number of largely decorative items inside – metal goblets, small statues, thick chains, assorted eating utensils and a rather intricately engraved tray about the size of a dinner plate. All of the items appeared to be made of solid gold.
‘You got all this just for selling information?’ Tynian asked incredulously.
‘Information’s the most valuable thing in the world, Sir Tynian,’ Talen replied loftily, ‘and I’m not doing anything immoral or illegal. My conscience is perfectly clear. Not only that, I’m making my contribution to the defence of the city.’
‘I don’t quite follow that reasoning,’ Sir Nashan said.
‘The soldiers out there aren’t giving up what they’ve stolen willingly, Sir Knight,’ Talen smirked. “The thieves know they’ll feel that way, so they don’t bother to make requests. Martel’s lost a fair number of his troops since the sun went down.’
‘Most reprehensible, young man,’ Ortzel said reprovingly.
‘My hands are completely clean, Your Grace,’ Talen replied innocently. ‘I haven’t personally stabbed a single soldier in the back. What the villains from the street do out there isn’t my responsibility, is it?’ The boy’s eyes shone with innocence.
‘Give it up, Ortzel,’ Emban chuckled. ‘None of us are worldly enough to argue with this young fellow.’ He paused. ‘Dolmant,’ he said, ‘tithing is a well-established practice, isn’t it?’
‘Of course,’ the Patriarch of Demos said.
‘I was sure it was. Given the unusual circumstances here, I’d say that the young fellow should contribute a quarter of his profits to the Church, wouldn’t you?’
‘It sounds about right to me,’ Dolmant agreed.
‘A quarter?’ Talen exclaimed. ‘That’s highway robbery!’
‘Actually, we aren’t on a highway, my son,’ Emban smiled. ‘Would you like to settle up after each of your excursions? Or should we wait until you’ve gathered all your profits and we can take care of it all at once?’
‘After you’ve settled up with the Patriarch Emban, Talen,’ Vanion said, ‘I have this burning curiosity about this secret way you’ve found to get in and out of the city.’
‘It’s not really much of a secret, Lord Vanion,’ Talen said deprecatingly. ‘About all it really consists of are the names of a squad of enterprising church soldiers who have the night watch in one of the towers on the wall. They’ve got a nice long rope with knots tied in it to make climbing up and down easy. They’re willing to rent out the rope, and I‘m willing to rent out their names and the location of the tower they’re guarding. Everybody’s making a nice profit.’
‘Including the Church,’ Patriarch Emban reminded him.
‘I was sort of hoping you’d forgotten about that, Your Grace.’
‘Hope is a cardinal virtue, my son,’ Emban said piously, ‘even when it’s misplaced.’
Kurik came in carrying a Lamork crossbow. ‘I think we may be in luck, My Lords,’ he said. ‘I happened to look into the armoury of the Archprelate’s personal guard in the Basilica. They’ve got racks and racks of these down there, and barrels of bolts.’
‘An eminently suitable weapon,’ Ortzel approved. Ortzel was a Lamork, after all.
‘They’re slower than a longbow, Your Grace,’ Kurik pointed out, ‘but they do have an extraordinary range. I think they’ll be very effective in breaking up charges against the inner city before they can pick up much momentum.’
‘Do you know how to use this weapon, Kurik?’ Vanion asked him.
‘Yes, Lord Vanion.’
‘Start training some church soldiers then.’
‘Yes, My Lord.’
‘A number of things are turning our way, my friends,’ Vanion said. ‘We have a defensible position, a parity of weapons and a certain delay working for us.’
‘I’d still be happier if Wargun were here,’ Komier said.
‘So would I,’ Vanion agreed, ‘but we’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got until he gets here, I’m afraid.’
‘There’s something else we need to concern ourselves with, gentlemen,’ Emban said gravely. ‘Assuming that all goes well, the Hierocracy’s going to go back into session just as soon as Martel’s been driven off. Abandoning the outer city is going to alienate a sizeable number of Patriarchs. If you let a man’s house be looted and burned, he’s not going to be very fond of you or want to vote for you. We’ve got to find some way to prove the connection between Annias and Martel. If we don’t, we’re doing all this just for the exercise. I can talk as fast as the next man, but I can’t perform miracles. I need something to work with.’
It was about midnight when Sparhawk climbed the stairs to the wall of the old city not far from the south gate, the most defensible of the four and the one it had been decided to leave unblocked. Chyrellos was burning in earnest now. A looter, upon entering a house to find it already empty, feels a certain angry frustration, and he usually vents those feelings by setting fire to the place. Such behaviour is totally predictable and, in a certain sense, quite natural. The looters, their faces more desperate now as the number of unpillaged houses diminished, ran from building to building waving torches and weapons. Kurik, always practical, had stationed the church soldiers he was training with crossbows on the walls, and the looters provided those men with moving targets upon which to practise. There were not too many hits, but the soldiers appeared to be improving.