kindly to amateurs cutting in on their territory. Still less to being robbed
themselves. Did you kill him?’
‘No,’ Mradhon said. ‘We did it just the way you said.’
‘What’s this about beggars? You get spotted?’
‘There was one near,’ Haught said. ‘Then – there were three of them. All at
once.’
‘Fine,’ said Moria in steely patience. “That’s fine. You’re not half good. My
brother and I -‘
But that was not a thing Moria spoke of often. She took another drink, sat down
at the table in the only chair.
‘We got the money,’ Haught protested, trying to cheer her.
‘And we’re counting,’ said Mradhon. ‘You go ahead and keep that silver, bitch.
I’m not going after it. But that’s all you get, ’til you’re worth something
again.’
‘Don’t you tell me who’s worth something. You’ll get our throats cut, rolling
the wrong man.’
‘Then you by-the-gods do something. You want to lose this place? You want us on
the street? Is that what you want?’
‘Who’s dead over by the bridge?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘But beggars sent you running. Didn’t they?’
Mradhon shrugged.
‘What more do we heed?’ she asked. ‘Stepsons. Now Becho’s vermin. Thieves.
Beggars, for Shipri’s sake, beggars sniffing round here.’
‘Jubal,’ Mradhon said. ‘Jubal’s what we need. Until you come through with
Jubal’s money -‘
‘He’s going to send for us again.’ Her lip set hard. ‘Sooner or later. We just
go on checking the drops. It’s slow, that’s all: it’s a new kind of business,
this setting up again. But he won’t touch us if you get the heat on us; if you
go off making your own deals. You stay out of trouble. Hear me? You’re not cut