The Diamond Throne

anything peculiar about these men?’ he asked.
    Kalten shrugged. ‘They were fairly inept.’
    ‘That’s not what I mean. Men who make a living by waylaying people in alleys aren’t usually very interested in their personal appearance, and these fellows are all clean-shaven.’ He rolled over one of the bodies and ripped open the front of his canvas smock. ‘Isn’t that interesting?’ he observed. Beneath the smock the dead man wore a red tunic with an embroidered emblem over the left breast.
    ‘Church soldier,’ Kalten grunted. ‘Do you think that Annias might possibly dislike us?’
    ‘It’s not unlikely. Let’s get out of here The survivors might have gone for help.’
    ‘The chapterhouse then – or the inn?’
    Sparhawk shook his head. ‘Somebody’s seen through our disguises, and Annias would expect us to go to one of those places.’
    ‘You could be right about that. Any ideas?’
    ‘I know of a place. It’s not too far. Are you all right to walk?’
    ‘I can go as far as you can. I’m younger, remember?’
    ‘Only by six weeks.’
    ‘Younger is younger, Sparhawk. Let’s not quibble about numbers.’
    They tucked their broadswords under their belts and walked out of the mouth of the alley. Sparhawk supported his wounded friend as they moved out into the open.
    The street along which they walked grew progressively shabbier, and they soon entered a maze of interconnecting lanes and unpaved alleys. The buildings were large and run-down, and they teemed with roughly dressed people who seemed indifferent to the squalor around them.
    ‘It’s a rabbit warren, isn’t it?’ Kalten said. ‘Is this place much farther? I’m getting a little tired.’
    ‘It’s just on the other side of that next intersection.’
    Kalten grunted and pressed his hand more tightly to his side
    They moved on. The looks directed at them by the inhabitants of this slum were unfriendly, even hostile. Kalten’s clothing marked him as a member of the ruling class, and these people at the very bottom of society had little use for courtiers and their servants.
    When they reached the intersection, Sparhawk led his friend up a muddy alley. They had gone about halfway when a thick-bodied man with a rusty pike in his handsstepped out of a doorway to bar their path. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he demanded.
    ‘I need to talk to Platime,’ Sparhawk replied.
    ‘I don’t think he wants to hear anything you have to say If you’re smart, you’ll get out of this part of town before nightfall. Accidents happen here after dark.’
    ‘And sometimes even before dark,’ Sparhawk said, drawing his sword.
    ‘I can have a dozen men here in two winks.’
    ‘And my broken-nosed friend here can have your head off in one,’ Kalten told him.
    The man stepped back, his face apprehensive.
    ‘What’s it to be, neighbour?’ Sparhawk asked. ‘Do you take us to Platime, or do you and I play for a bit?’
    ‘You’ve got no right to threaten me.’
    Sparhawk raised his sword so that the fellow could get a good look at it. ‘This gives me all sorts of rights, neighbour Lean your pike against that wall and take us to Platime – now!’
    The thick-bodied man flinched and then carefully set his pike against the wall, turned, and led them on up the alley It came to a dead end a hundred paces farther on, and a stone stairway ran down to what appeared to be a cellar door.
    ‘Down there,’ the man said, pointing.
    ‘Lead the way,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘I don’t want you behind me, friend. You look like the sort who might make errors in judgement.’
    Sullenly, the fellow went down the mud-coated stairs and rapped twice on the door. ‘It’s me,’ he called. ‘Sef. There are a couple of nobles here who want to talk to Platime.’
    There was a pause followed by the rattling of a chain. The door opened and a bearded man thrust his head out. ‘Platime doesn’t like noblemen,’ he declared.
    ‘I’ll change his mind for him,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Step back out of the way, neighbour’
    The bearded man looked at the sword in Sparhawk’s hand, swallowed hard, and opened the door wider.
    ‘Pass right along, Sef,’ Kalten said to their guide.
    Sef went through the door.
    ‘Join us, friend,’ Sparhawk told the bearded man when he and Kalten were inside. ‘We like lots of company.’
    The stairs continued down between mouldy stone walls that wept moisture. At the bottom, the stair opened out into a very large cellar