. . .”
Mavis just turns her back to me and starts working on the outstanding orders. I take the cue and slip out the back door after Linmer. Some things are better left unknown.
Chapter 66
I fully expected him to have kept running once he left the Bottom Up but, surprisingly, Linmer is waiting for me in the alley. I walk over to the boy. “Can I make a suggestion?”
“Sure.”
“If you ever return to the Bottom Up, come prepared with a full field worth of flowers.”
“Or not return at all,” he offers in response.
“That would work as well.”
The lane behind the Bottom Up is narrow, relatively clean and provides significant privacy. Many of the residents and merchants backing onto this little stretch have been here for years and nothing that goes on back here ever gets reported. I mull over whether I should do-in Linmer right here and dump his body as a message to Amber and her new guild.
I decide against that. “Okay, look. I need your assistance.”
Hope springs eternal and he relaxes once he realizes I’m not going to stab him. “Anything.”
“I need a list of the stores the guild is collecting kickbacks from tonight. In particular I’m looking for those that deal in food, spices or anything else that I can bring back to Mavis.”
The panic floods back into Linmer’s face. “But I don’t know that! Me and my buddies aren’t even members. We’re just trying out for the guild. I don’t know anything about the actual workings of the rogues. I swear!”
“Well, that’s too bad. I’m not sure what to do about you then. Maybe return you to Mavis.”
He turns pale. I won’t stab him, but we both know that she might. “Please, I don’t have a list of stores, but my recruiter did go on and on about a group of merchants that is causing them grief.”
“Go on.”
“There’s a bunch of merchants that have decided to stand together against the guild. They post these little signs that say ‘No Graft’, thinking that the guild is too weak to collect on the tribute it demands.”
I laugh out loud. “That’ll never work!”
“I hope so. I mean, the guild hopes so.”
I’m still chuckling. “I mean, maybe if they had the law on their side, but as far as I can tell, Pets condones the extortion. Without the support of the Goblins, the militia and the courts, the merchants are screwed.” I give the boy a nudge in the gut. “So, how do you know this?”
“My recruiter, some guy with a scar from his throat to his ear —”
I interrupt. “Squints.”
“Yeah! He was all excited about this ‘No Graft’ signage. He was manic about it during the recruitment briefing, how they’re going to make examples of all those merchants.” Linmer’s eyes light up. “The way he talked about the guild taking action sounded pretty great. Made it feel that by joining the guild we would belong to a larger purpose, a family.”
“Looks like the sales pitch worked.”
“Yeah. It would be nice to be part of something where you’re wanted.”
We listen to the quiet of the alley for a minute before I continue. “Well then, I guess this meeting is over. I have some work to get done tonight. Do you still need to show your worth to the guild?”
“I guess. It’s not like I’ve shown promise to anyone.”
I chuckle again. “You can say that again. You sure this is the profession you want? I mean, you seem awfully green.”
Linmer rocks his head side-to-side, weighing his options.
“Okay, how about this.” I pull out a couple of coins and place them on a crate by him. “That is enough to say you succeeded with your task of extortion, but you’re not that good. Now, you have three choices. One, you can leave the money. Two, you can take it and give it to the guild. Three, you can take it and live off it for a couple days trying to find different work.”
He stares at them, unsure.
“And if you take it to the guild, then realize that you owe me. Forever.”
He still looks unsure as I exit the alley and leave him to his decision. I’ve got a more pressing issue, which is to find one of these signed stores before Squints does.
Chapter 67
I should have brought Muel.
I look at the towering stack of meat. Three sides of pork, two quarters of beef and one lamb are all piled onto the carry-rack of a two-wheeled cart. Delicious!
It’s taken the better part of ninety minutes to liberate the cart, unlock the rudely chained service door of Battin’s butchery, find a handcart, lower the eight hundred pounds of cut meat onto the handcart, wheel them outside, and then drag the cuts into the larger two-wheeler. I think briefly of appropriating Battin’s mare and using her to pull the cart, but any noise she makes will wake either him or his family, who live in the narrow, two-story tenement attached to the shop.
I loop the security chains back through the service door’s reinforced handles, snap the lock through the links and turn.
Everything was perfect until that moment. Completing the turn, I let out an exceedingly unmanly “Gha-aaah!” and try, to the best of my ability, to leap out of my boots. All I succeed in doing is bouncing backwards and hitting the door. The freshly secured chains rattle and clank from the impact before coming to rest.
Squints smiles. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to scare the crap out of you? It’s got to be years.”
My heart is trying to burst through my chest and my pulse hammers in my ears. “Wow. I didn’t hear you come up on me.”
“Yeah, that’s obvious! Now you know what it’s like every time you’ve snuck up on me.”
I relax a bit, letting out a low laugh to relieve my stress. “Well, if that’s what it feels like, I’m pleasantly happy with my success in making your life uncomfortable.”
“You’ve always been an ass, Pinty.”
“And forevermore.” I look over to the windows on the second floor of the tenement. I think someone has lit a candle up there, but it’s hard to tell.
“So what are you doing here? Store hours don’t normally run this long.”
I straighten my tunic and put myself together. “Waiting for you.”
“I don’t get it. What do you mean?”
“I hear those ‘No Graft’ signs are driving the guild bonkers and that tonight you’re razing every store that opposes the guild’s request for tribute. Well, I’m here to tell you that nobody but me sets this town on fire.”
There’s a silly, shit-eating grin on Squints’ face. “You think I’m going to burn down a supplier? You’re nuts. Nothing of the sort. Just watch this.” And with that, he lifts a tiny mouse from his shirt pocket and places it on top of the rack of meat.
“What am I supposed to be watching?”
“Just wait, you’ll see. She normally refocuses every few minutes.”
The mouse’s whiskers twitch and the nose goes crazy sniffing the lamb, but nothing unmouse-like happens. This goes on for a long, unbearable minute.
“Squints, this is great and all, but you’ve got to move along. No more playing around.”
But Squints doesn’t hear me. He’s riveted on the mouse. “Look.” The mouse has stopped moving and is holding perfectly still. Then it rears up on two legs, looks around and nods to Squints.
“Well, I’ll be.”
“Yup. We’re all carrying the little beasts now.”
I focus on the mouse. “So I’m to assume that I’m talking to Amber?”
The mouse nods.
I look back to Squints. “That’s quite a trick.”
“No trick.” He turns and addresses the mouse. “Guild Master, as you can see, I’ve arrived at the store of Battin the butcher. The sign remains posted and I can only assume that he continues to refuse payment.”
The mouse looks back and forth between Squints and me. Squints continues to address the mouse. “Pinty is under the mistaken impression that we’re going to burn down this store and the others that
bear the non-payment sign.”
I, too, address the mouse. “That’s true. I’m here to stop you.”
As I say that, another voice calls out from behind me. “Stop him from doing what?” I turn and see Battin in his nightshirt and boots, a cleaver in each hand.
“Good evenin’, Battin.”
“Evening back, Pinty. What are you doing out here with that scum?”
“Hey, I’m not scum!”
We both address Squints at the same time: “Yes, you are.”
I continue on with Battin. “Heard tell that your stance against paying kickbacks to the guild was going to get you into hot water tonight. Thought I would come over and help save your shop.”
“Mighty obliged.” Battin surveys the cart. “Looks like you got here just in time to stop him from making off with my stock. Between the two of us I’m sure we can take him out.”
Squints looks confused, glancing back and forth between the two of us. “Hey, it’s not me that stacked this meat. It was Pinty.”
Battin moves forward to my side. “Yeah, and you’re not the one extorting me either.”
“Well, yeah. Wait — no. Okay, hold on here. Yes. You owe the guild the graft money and that’s why I’m here. You have one last chance. Are you paying up or not?” Squints looks at Battin. I look at Battin. We wait.
The answer doesn’t take long to form. One of the cleavers spins out from Battin’s hands and embeds itself in the tower of meat. “I’m not paying. You’re not taking my hard-earned money any longer. Now beat it.”
Squints addresses the mouse. “You’ve seen enough?”
The mouse nods its head, drops back down into normal mouse position, and climbs onto Squints’ outreached hand. Once the mouse is aboard, Squints gently drops it back into his shirt pocket.
“Adiós, gentleman and Pinty. You’ve made your point.” And with that he marches off into the night.
Battin nudges me in the shoulder. “Did he just talk to a mouse?”
“Yup. Apparently it’s all the rage.” I look at the cart and then back to the chained doors to the shop. “Hey, seeing that I helped you out, maybe you could spare some of that meat for the Bottom Up?”
Battin gives me an eye. “You realize he gave up way too easy. This wouldn’t be another plan to fleece me of my goods, would it?”
“Easy there with the accusations! He was totally intimidated.”
“Hummm.” Battin contemplates the offer for a moment until he looks around in panic, scanning the darkness of the street. “You hear that?”
I’m about to say, “Hear what?” until I realize that I can hear it too. It’s the sound of thousands of mice scampering, climbing and otherwise stampeding towards us.
I look down the road. There, my ears not lying, we watch as thousands of mice scamper, climb and otherwise stampede towards us. After a moment of shock, I push Battin out of the way of the onslaught of mice. Those few that we don’t escape simply ignore us as they sprint on towards the butchery.
“My store!” And Battin is back up, hacking away at the mice with his cleaver. For every one he chops, tens and hundreds squeeze under the door, pass through cracks in the siding or scale the walls to enter through windows.
I observe Battin as he fumbles for a key, undoes the lock on the chain and throws open the doors. Inside, a living carpet of mice is devouring his entire stock. Anything meaty is covered by gluttonous little creatures of teeth and tail. In a while, there’ll be nothing organic left in the store. The night is filled with Battin’s curses of anger as his livelihood is consumed.
While he fights an unwinnable battle, I position myself between the two shafts of the cart. Lifting them till the cart is in balance, I try pulling it forward. Stubbornly, the weight of the meat and the cart is too much for me and the cart refuses to move.
Crap. Well, Battin is completely distracted, so borrowing his mare is no longer an issue. I release her from the stall, tie her to the cart and climb aboard. Finally putting the evening behind me, I drive the cart back to the Bottom Up with, hopefully, enough meat to appease Mavis.
Chapter 68
“Seriously, I love what you’ve done with the place.” I reach down and pet the very friendly calico brushing against my legs. Within the office there are another five or six cats making the place home. Yet more cats prowl the grounds of the governor’s residence and government offices.
From behind his desk, the governor sneezes for the second time since we all arrived for this supposedly top-secret meeting. Snot and spittle go flying across the room and land on four of the seven guests gathered. A glare from Petapeterich and nobody says anything about being splattered. Recovered, the governor addresses all assembled. “Now then, I need to know how bad things have become.”
We sit silently. Even with the number of cats, those in the room aware of Amber’s powers remain concerned about her eavesdropping on this conversation.
“Come now, speak up. I’ve ordered the collection of almost,” the governor looks at me, “every cat within the city walls, both birders and mousers. If there is anywhere safe from prying ears and eyes, it should be here.”
On my right, Caia shifts and leans forward, mentally counting the number of cats in the room. “Alright, I guess this is about as secure as it gets. Mom wishes to file a formal complaint. Our clients share intimate details about their lives, relationships and work with our girls. The service requires absolute discretion. Amber has been spying on the liaisons and then selling the secrets. This has caused a dramatic increase in the violence to our girls, as the men believe we are betraying their trust.
Petapeterich nods, writes a few notes in the journal splayed open in front of him and looks next to Tambor, the clothier from the market. “The Goblins have always found your personal appraisal of your fellow merchants highly reliable. What is the general state and operation of the city mercantile since the fire?”
“The fire hit the warehouse district and much of the merchant houses extremely hard. We are short on almost every good or supply we normally sell. We still have merchants without storefronts and, because of that, without income. New cargo ships arrive, but they don’t carry enough new goods to replace what we have lost. Over time the market will recover and re-establish itself, though it is likely be months or longer till that happens. Until then prices will remain high and inventory limited.”
“And what of the guild?”
“Squints and Janis have been starting to shake us down again, nothing unexpected. The senior merchants were prepared. Some of the younger, angrier, merchants are using the fire as an opportunity to establish a trade organization that will stand up to the extortion and graft.” There is a pause and it’s obvious he has more to add but isn’t sure how to continue.
“Tambor, you’re keeping me in suspense. Were they successful?”
“Well, how do I explain this? Merchants that refuse to pay tithe to the guild — their stalls and goods are either destroyed by insatiable mice or pilfered clean by ravens. We have never seen anything like this before.”
The governor starts writing a few notes when Tambor speaks up again. “Uh, it wouldn’t be as bad, but as Your Governorship has just mentioned, it appears you have conscripted every cat in the local area. Perhaps this roundup of cats is allowing for these freak build-ups of vermin?”
The governor’s head doesn’t move from looking at the page, but his eyes roll up and burn into Tambor. “The point you are making is?”
“Well, nothing, but we wonder if you, um, are having the same problem.”
“I suffer no problems, not even fools. The cats are simply a phase I’m going through. I seem to find their nightly wailings most, ah, ah . . .” and a giant sneeze rocks the room, once again from the governor.
Everybody looks away. Likely a good thing.
Petapeterich recovers and turns to his chamberlain. “Change of topics. Mr. Crevase, I notice the local clergy have not supplied a representative.”
Crevase panic
s for a moment with the governor’s attention on him, but, recovering, reports “No, sire. They have not. They remain in a bit of a huff about the lack of city resources set aside for temple repair and rebuilding. I believe this is an act of protest on their part.”
“Protest! So now the citizens feel they can ignore a palace summons?” The governor’s eyes swing over in my direction. Directly in my direction.
I react without thinking and in the process lose my composure. “What did I do? The Goblins themselves confirmed that the fire was caused totally and solely by the conflict within the ranks of the guild and nothing else! Isn’t that so, Andeos?”
There is absolutely no inflection in Andeos’ voice as he responds to my baiting. Nonetheless, I see in his body language that he’s not happy with me switching the ire of the governor to him. “That is what we have publicly announced.”
I look back to the governor, smile a full set of teeth and say, “See, I’ve nothing to do with it. Just using the Bottom Up to feed all the homeless, fire-ravaged citizens in the days following our city’s greatest disaster.”
The governor doesn’t miss a beat. “And as a selfless patron of the people, Mr. Lightbottom, how are the spirits of the citizens during this trying time?”
“As best as can be expected, I guess. We are a city of survivors and for the most part it’s life as usual, but with the additional burden of dealing with the fire’s aftermath. There are specific hardships that I might mention. For example, wine is in exceptionally short supply. The cellar at the Bottom Up is completely dry. Perhaps the city can assist in supplying some?”
“I’m sure you’ll make do, Pinty. You always seem to.” The governor sits back in the chair and closes his eyes for a moment. Opening them, he nods to both his Chief of Civil Matters, Wiggins, and to an individual I’ve only met a couple times on social occasions, Colonel Phient. “In their filed reports, the head of civil services and my head of armed forces have both reported the same general observations that those gathered here relate. The city continues to shamble along the same as before, albeit worse off. Thankfully, this has not increased our risk from either internal or external threats.”
Another pause. When nobody speaks up, he continues.
“Caia, I wish to address your formal complaint. Your report is disturbing and I have no sympathy for those who harm their fellow citizens. At the moment there is little I can do about it. Tell Mom I sympathize, but I do not have the resources to address her business concerns over those of the other merchants.”