The Hidden City

up shop here, you can sell beer all day every day instead of just coming here once a week. Then your customers would come to you in manageable numbers instead of by the regiment.’
    ‘I never thought of it,’ Senga admitted. ‘I just thought I’d make a quick profit and then run for the border. I could set up a real tavern here, Col—a real, honest-to-God legitimate business. I wouldn’t have to steal any more.’
    ‘I’ve seen your price-list, Senga. Don’t worry. You’re still stealing.’
    Senga ignored him. ‘Maybe I could call it “Senga’s Palace”,’ he said in a dreamy tone of voice. He frowned. ‘No,’ he decided. ‘That’s a little too flashy for a beer-tavern. I think I’ll just call it “Senga’s”. That’d definitely be a more lasting memorial than just a grave marker with the date when I got hung carved on it.’ Then he shook his head and sighed. ‘No, Col,’ he said regretfully. ‘It wouldn’t work. If I took you and my other guards out of here, Scarpa’s soldiers would just march in and drink up all my beer without paying.’
    ‘Why take us out, then? We can stay right here and make sure they pay.’
    ‘I’m not sure Narstil would like it if we didn’t go back to camp at night.’
    ‘Senga,’ Kalten said gently, ‘do you really need Narstil any more? You’re an honest businessman now. You shouldn’t be associating with bandits.’
    Senga laughed. ‘You’re coming at me a little too fast, Col. Give me some time to adjust my thinking.’ Then he suddenly swore.
    ‘What’s wrong?’
    ‘It’s a beautiful idea, Col, but it won’t work.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because I’ll need Scarpa’s permission to set up shop here, and I’m not going to go anywhere near him to ask for it.’
    ‘I don’t think you’ll have to, my friend. I went rummaging around through those heaps of trash in Narstil’s camp yesterday, and guess what I found?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘A very fancy, silver-mounted cask of Arcian red. It’s even equipped with a silver spigot. The fellow who stole it didn’t know how much it was worth—he’s a beer man. I got it off him for half a crown. I’ll sell it to you, and you can make a present of it to that Krager fellow. Why don’t we let him persuade Scarpa to give you permission to go into business here?’
    ‘Col, you’re a genius. What’ll you take for that cask of Arcian red?’
    ‘Oh—five crowns, I guess.’
    ‘Five crowns? Ten times what you paid for it? That’s robbery.’
    ‘You ought to know, Senga. You’re my friend, but business is business, after all.’
    They found the bleary-eyed Krager sitting on a broken wall watching the crowd of thirsty soldiers in the square without much interest. He held a tankard in one hand, and he drank from it occasionally with obvious distaste.
    ‘Ah, there you are, Master Krager,’ Senga said jovially. ‘Why don’t you dump out that slop and try a sup of this?’ He patted the ornate wine cask he was carrying under one arm.
    ‘More local swill?’ Krager asked.
    ‘Try it and see what you think,’ Senga suggested.
    Krager emptied his wine out on the ground and held out his pewter tankard. Senga turned the handle of the silver spigot and dribbled about a half a cupful of Arcian red into it. Krager squinted into his mug and sniffed at it suspiciously. Then his eyes rolled up ecstatically. ‘Oh, dearie, dearie me.’ he breathed in a reverent tone of voice. He took a small sip and actually seemed to quiver with delight.
    ‘I thought you might like it,’ Senga said. ‘Now that I’ve got your attention, I’ve got a business proposition for you. I’d like to set up a permanent tavern here in Natayos, but I’ll need permission to do that. I’d take it as a real favor if you could see your way clear to put in a good word for me with Lord Scarpa. I’d be very grateful to you if you can get his approval.’
    ‘How grateful?’ Krager asked quickly.
    ‘Probably about this grateful.’ Senga patted the silver-mounted cask again. ‘Tell Lord Scarpa that I won’t cause any problems. I’ll pick one of these empty buildings a little way off from his main camp and clean it out and fix the roof my very own self. I’ll provide my own security and make sure that none of his soldiers gets too drunk.’
    ‘Go ahead and get started, Master Senga,’ Krager said, eyeing the cask. ‘You’ve got my personal guarantee that Lord Scarpa will agree.’ He reached out for the wine.
    Senga stepped