The Courier’s Rest was a good-sized inn, but it wasn’t crowded at this hour. Some men were having their midday meal late, scattered among the tables, singly and in pairs. The man behind the stone counter looked up at Vargos and nodded politely. This wasn’t a caupona; he was nowhere near the harbour. Civility might be cautiously assumed here.
‘Fuck that barbarian up the backside,’ said someone in the shadows. ‘What’s he think he’s doing in here?’
Vargos shivered then, unable to stop himself. Fear, undeniably, but something else as well. He felt in that moment as if the half-world had brushed close to him, forbidden magic, a primitive darkness in the midst of the City, in the crisp, clear day. He would have to pray again, he thought, when this was over.
He knew the voice, remembered it.
‘Buying a drink or a meal if he likes, you drunken shit. What are you doing here someone might ask?’ The man serving drinks and food glared across the counter top at the shadowed figure.
‘What am I doing here? This been my inn ever since I joined the Post!’
‘And now you aren’t in the Post. Notice I haven’t booted you out? I’ve more than half a mind to. So watch your fucking tongue, Tilliticus.’
Vargos had never claimed his thoughts proceeded at any speed. He needed to … work things through. Even after he heard the known voice and then the confirming name, he walked to the counter, ordered a cup of wine, watered it, paid for it, took his first sip, before anything coalesced properly in his mind, the recognized voice merging with the summoned recollection from the army camp. He turned. Offered another silent prayer of thanks, before he spoke.
He was quite sure of himself now, as it happened.
‘Pronobius Tilliticus?’ he said quietly.
‘Fuck you, yesh,’ said the shadowy figure at the corner table.
Some men turned to glance at the other man, distaste in their expressions.
‘I remember you,’ said Vargos. ‘From Sauradia. You’re an Imperial Courier. I used to work the road there.’
The other man laughed, too loudly. He was clearly not sober. ‘You ‘n me both, then. I used to work the road, too. On a horse, on a woman. Fading on the road.’ He laughed again.
Vargos nodded. He could see more clearly now in the muted light. Tilliticus was alone at his table, two flasks in front of him, no food. ‘You aren’t a courier any more?’
He pretty much knew the answer to this already, with a few other things. Holy Jad had sent him here. Or, he hoped it was Jad.
‘Dishmished,’ said Tilliticus. ‘Five days ago. Last pay, no notice. Dishmished. Like that. Want a drink, barbarian?’
‘I have one,’ Vargos said. He felt something cold in himself now: anger, but a different sort than he was accustomed to. ‘Why were you dismissed?’ He needed to be sure.
‘Late with a post, though it’s none of anyone’s fucking business.’
‘Everyone fucking knows,’ another man said grimly. ‘You might mention fraud at the hospice, throwing away posted letters, and spreading disease while you’re at it.’
‘Bugger you,’ said Pronobius Tilliticus. ‘As if you never slept with a poxed whore? None of that would’ve mattered if the Rhodian catamite …’ He fell silent.
‘If the Rhodian hadn’t what?’ Vargos said quiedy.
And now he was afraid, because it truly was very difficult to understand why the god might have helped him in this way, and try as he might not to do so he kept thinking and thinking now of the Aldwood and the zubir and that leather and metal bird Crispin had carried in around his neck and left behind.
The man at the table in the corner made no reply. It didn’t matter. Vargos pushed himself off from the bar and went back out the door. He looked around, squinting in the sunlight, and saw one of the Urban Prefect’s men at the end of the street in his brown and black uniform. He went over to him and reported that the person who had hired the soldiers who’d killed three men last night could be found at the table immediately to the right of the door in The Courier’s Rest. Vargos identified himself and told the man where he could be found if needed. He watched as the young officer walked into the tavern, and then he headed back through the streets towards the inn.