‘Of course, if you should luck out – I don’t expect it, but in case you do
remember who gave you a boost.’ A figure appeared in the door and he went to
render service.
After a bit of muttered talk, he led the newcomer to Cappen’s place. When the
minstrel recognized the lean youth, his pulse leaped. One-Thumb would not have
brought him and Hanse together without cause; bard and thief found each other
insufferable. They nodded coldly but did not speak until the tapster returned
with a round of ale.
When the three were seated, One-Thumb said, ‘Well spit it out, boy. You claim
you’ve got news.’
‘For him?’ Hanse flared, gesturing at Cappen.
‘Never mind who. Just talk.’
Hanse scowled. ‘I don’t talk for a single lousy mugful.’
‘You do if you want to keep on coming in here.’
Hanse bit his lip. The Vulgar Unicorn was a rendezvous virtually indispensable
to one in his trade.
Cappen thought it best to sweeten the pill: ‘I’m known to Molin Torchholder. If
I can serve him in this matter, he won’t be stingy. Nor will I. Shall we say
hm – ten gold royals to you?’
The sum was not princely, but on that account plausible. ‘Awright, awright,’
Hanse replied. ‘I’d been casing a job I might do in the Jewellers’ Quarter. A
squad of the watch came by towards morning and I figured I’d better go home, not
by the way I came, either. So I went along the Avenue of Temples, as I might be
wanting to stop in and pay my respects to some god or other. It was a dark
night, overcast, the reason I’d been out where I was. But you know how several