All-Knowing became the Wholly Unconscious and fell back onto the floor of the boat. Tossing the canvas over the body, Simna followed Ehomba back onto the quay. His blade made short work of the hawser that secured the pinnace to the dock. Nodding with satisfaction, he watched as the little boat began to drift slowly out into the harbor.
“When he wakes beneath that heavy cover, maybe he’ll think he’s dead. A good fright is the least the old scoundrel deserves.”
“Come.” In the distance, the sounds of destruction and screaming were beginning to fade. The spirit of the tooth could only stalk the earth for a finite amount of time. Meanwhile, a few small fires had erupted in the wake of the two-legged monster’s rampage. These would keep the locals occupied for a while, and the few surviving Khorog were in no condition to respond to questions. Content that they faced no pursuit, the two travelers hurried from the scene of confusion.
Zintois Street was situated away from the waterfront and deeper within the city proper. Neatly paved with cobblestones, it wound its way up a small hill, providing those fortunate enough to have their businesses located near the crest with a pleasant view of the harbor and the surrounding city. The storefronts here were large and impressive, bespeaking a wider commercial success than what had been achieved by the lowlier waterfront merchants.
The house of Haramos bin Grue clung like a he-crab to its mate, rising behind and above the street-facing offices. A high stone wall encircled and protected the compound. Its parapet was lined with large shards of broken glass, as beautiful as they were deadly, spiked into the rounded mortar. On the walls and within the compound, as well as on the dark street itself, all was quiet.
“I see no signs of life.” Ehomba frowned slightly. “Do not the wealthy folk of these foreign lands set someone to keep watch over their homes and possessions?”
Crouching as he ran, Simna was edging along the wall toward the front door. “If someone is powerful enough, or ruthless enough, their reputation can act as adequate protection. It’s cheaper, and can be just as effective. That seems to be the case with our friend bin Grue.”
Stretching to his full height, Ehomba tried to see over the wall. “I would expect the merchant to keep a property as valuable and difficult to manage as the litah somewhere in the back of his establishment, out of sight and hearing of random visitors.”
Simna nodded agreement. “I don’t like going in through the front door, but it might prove the easiest way. If ordinary thieves are afraid to enter, it may be protected by nothing more than a simple lock.”
The herdsman looked down at his friend. “Are there such things as simple locks?”
Simna grinned knowingly. “To someone who has made the aquaintance of many, yes.”
True to his word, the swordsman made short work of the keyed entrance while Ehomba kept watch on the street. No one was abroad in the much-esteemed neighborhood at that late hour save a few stray cats. Two of these lingered to enjoy Ehomba’s earnest attention, waltzing back and forth beneath his soothing palm as he stroked their backs and smoothed out their tails as if they were candle wicks.
“Will you stop that?” whispered Simna urgently as he finished with the lock.
“Why?” Ehomba wondered innocently. “I cannot help you in your work. I
can
help these cats.”
“Well, you’re wasting your energy. They’ll never be able to help
you
.”
Rising, the herdsman moved closer to the door. “You do not know that, my friend. You never know when something you meet may be able to do you a service. Better to show respect to all Nature’s creations.”
“I’ll remind you of that if we ever find ourselves lost in a cloud of mosquitoes.” At his gentle but firm push, the door gave inward, squeaking slightly. “There. We’re in.”
Ehomba followed him through the doorway. “Do you usually
“When he wakes beneath that heavy cover, maybe he’ll think he’s dead. A good fright is the least the old scoundrel deserves.”
“Come.” In the distance, the sounds of destruction and screaming were beginning to fade. The spirit of the tooth could only stalk the earth for a finite amount of time. Meanwhile, a few small fires had erupted in the wake of the two-legged monster’s rampage. These would keep the locals occupied for a while, and the few surviving Khorog were in no condition to respond to questions. Content that they faced no pursuit, the two travelers hurried from the scene of confusion.
Zintois Street was situated away from the waterfront and deeper within the city proper. Neatly paved with cobblestones, it wound its way up a small hill, providing those fortunate enough to have their businesses located near the crest with a pleasant view of the harbor and the surrounding city. The storefronts here were large and impressive, bespeaking a wider commercial success than what had been achieved by the lowlier waterfront merchants.
The house of Haramos bin Grue clung like a he-crab to its mate, rising behind and above the street-facing offices. A high stone wall encircled and protected the compound. Its parapet was lined with large shards of broken glass, as beautiful as they were deadly, spiked into the rounded mortar. On the walls and within the compound, as well as on the dark street itself, all was quiet.
“I see no signs of life.” Ehomba frowned slightly. “Do not the wealthy folk of these foreign lands set someone to keep watch over their homes and possessions?”
Crouching as he ran, Simna was edging along the wall toward the front door. “If someone is powerful enough, or ruthless enough, their reputation can act as adequate protection. It’s cheaper, and can be just as effective. That seems to be the case with our friend bin Grue.”
Stretching to his full height, Ehomba tried to see over the wall. “I would expect the merchant to keep a property as valuable and difficult to manage as the litah somewhere in the back of his establishment, out of sight and hearing of random visitors.”
Simna nodded agreement. “I don’t like going in through the front door, but it might prove the easiest way. If ordinary thieves are afraid to enter, it may be protected by nothing more than a simple lock.”
The herdsman looked down at his friend. “Are there such things as simple locks?”
Simna grinned knowingly. “To someone who has made the aquaintance of many, yes.”
True to his word, the swordsman made short work of the keyed entrance while Ehomba kept watch on the street. No one was abroad in the much-esteemed neighborhood at that late hour save a few stray cats. Two of these lingered to enjoy Ehomba’s earnest attention, waltzing back and forth beneath his soothing palm as he stroked their backs and smoothed out their tails as if they were candle wicks.
“Will you stop that?” whispered Simna urgently as he finished with the lock.
“Why?” Ehomba wondered innocently. “I cannot help you in your work. I
can
help these cats.”
“Well, you’re wasting your energy. They’ll never be able to help
you
.”
Rising, the herdsman moved closer to the door. “You do not know that, my friend. You never know when something you meet may be able to do you a service. Better to show respect to all Nature’s creations.”
“I’ll remind you of that if we ever find ourselves lost in a cloud of mosquitoes.” At his gentle but firm push, the door gave inward, squeaking slightly. “There. We’re in.”
Ehomba followed him through the doorway. “Do you usually
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