The Hidden City

building.
    ‘We’ve got a delivery from Senga for Master Krager,’ Kalten said.
    ‘Anybody could say that.’
    ‘Go ask him,’ Kalten suggested.
    ‘I wouldn’t want to disturb him.’
    ‘Then you’d better let us past. He’s been waiting for this wine for quite some time now. If you keep us from delivering it, he’ll really be disturbed. He might even be disturbed enough to take the matter to Lord Scarpa.’
    The guard’s face grew apprehensive. ‘Wait here,’ he said, then turned and went along the back of the building to the heavy door.
    ‘I’ll stay in the background when we get inside,’ Sparhawk quietly told his friend. ‘If he asks, just tell him that I’m a strong back you commandeered to help pull the cart.’
    Kalten nodded.
    ‘Are you here, Anarae?’ Sparhawk asked, looking around in spite of the fact that he knew he wouldn’t be able to see her.
    ‘Right at thy side, Anakha,’ her voice replied softly.
    ‘We’ll keep him talking for as long as we can. He’ll probably be a little drunk. Will that make it difficult for you?’
    ‘I have shared the thoughts of this Krager before,’ she told him. ‘He is coherent unless he is far gone with drink. If it be convenient, direct his attention toward the house where thy Queen was late held captive. That may prod his mind toward thoughts of interest to us.’
    ‘I’ll see what I can do, Anarae,’ Kalten promised.
    The Dacite guard came back. ‘He’ll receive you,’ he announced.
    ‘Somehow I was almost sure he would,’ Kalten smirked. ‘Master Krager’s very fond of this particular wine.’
    He and Sparhawk lifted the shafts of the cart and pulled it along over the rough, littered ground at the back of the semi-restored ruin that appeared to be Scarpa’s main headquarters. Krager was eagerly waiting in the doorway. His head was shaved, but he still looked much the same. He was dishevelled and unshaven, his near-sighted, watery eyes were bloodshot, and his hands were visibly shaking. ‘Bring it inside,’ he ordered in his familiar, rusty-sounding voice.
    Kalten and Sparhawk set the shafts of the cart down, untied the ropes that had held the two barrels in place, and carefully eased one of them out onto the ground. Kalten measured the height of the barrel with a length of the rope and then checked the width of the doorway. ‘Just barely,’ he said. ‘Tip it over, From. We’ll be able to roll it in.’
    Sparhawk heaved the barrel over onto its side, and he and his friend rolled it through the doorway into the cluttered room beyond. There was an unmade bed against one wall, and clothes littered the floor. The place was permeated with the acrid smell of Krager’s unwashed, wine-sodden body, and there was a heap of empty casks and broken earthenware bottles in one corner. ‘Where did you want these, Master Krager?’ Kalten asked.
    ‘Anyplace,’ Krager said impatiently.
    ‘That’s not thinking ahead,’ Kalten said critically. ‘They’re too heavy for you to move by yourself. Pick a spot that’ll be convenient.’
    ‘You might be right.’ Krager squinted around the room. Then he went to a place near the head of the bed and kicked some clothes out of the way. ‘Put them right here,’ he instructed.
    ‘Ah—before we go any further, why don’t we settle up? These are very expensive, Master Krager.’
    ‘How much?’
    ‘Senga told me that he had to have fifty crowns a barrel. Arcian red’s very hard to come by this far away from Arcium.’
    ‘Fifty crowns?’ Krager exclaimed.
    ‘Each,’ Kalten insisted. ‘He told me to open the barrels for you, too.’
    ‘I know how to open a wine barrel, Col.’
    ‘I’m sure of it, but Senga’s an honest businessman, and he wants me to make sure you’re satisfied before I take your money.’ He rolled the barrel over against the wall. ‘Help me set it up, From,’ he told Sparhawk. They righted the barrel, and Kalten took a pry-bar out from under his belt. ‘Beer’s a lot easier,” he noted. ‘Somebody ought to tell those Arcian’s about the advantages of putting a bung-hole in the side.’
    He carefully pried up the lid as Krager, cup in hand, stood at his elbow.
    ‘Master Krager,’ Kalten said then, lifting off the lid stepped aside.
    Krager dipped his cup into the deep red liquid, lifted it with a trembling hand, and drank deeply. ‘Marvelous!’ he sighed happily. fir laughed.
    ‘You wouldn’t expect it of a highway robber, but I’ll tell Senga that