Roberson, Jennifer - Cheysuli 08 by A Tapestry of Lions (v1.0) Page B

head for all the
thieves they catch."
                Kellin frowned, giving up on his
sore hand.
                "Who pays it?"
                Urchin shrugged. "People.
They're fed up wi’ getting their belt-purses stolen and pockets picked."
                He waggled fingers. "Some o'
them took up a collection, like . ,. for each thief caught during Summerfair,
they pay a copper a head- Keeps the streets clean of us, y'see, and they can
walk out without fearing for pockets and purses." Urchin grinned.
"But if you're good enough, nobody catches you."
                "You got caught."
                "Couldn't run fast enough with
this." Urchin extended a swollen, discolored foot and pufty ankle.
                "Dog set on me." He was
patently unconcerned by the condition of foot and ankle. "If you're not a
thief, why're you here?"
                Kellin grimaced. "I was
running. They thought it was because I was stealing."
                "Never run in Mujhara,"
the boy advised solemnly, then reconsidered. "Unless you be a fine Homanan
lord, and then no one will bother you no matter what you do,"
                Kellin glanced around. On closer
inspection, the room was no better than his first impression, a small
imprisonment, empty save for them. "Not so many copper pieces today."
                Urchin shrugged. "The other
room is full. They'll put the new catches in here. You're the first, after
me."
                Kellin peeled a crust of blood from
his chin.
                "How do we get out?"
                "Wait till someone pays your
copper. Otherwise we stay here till Summerfair is over, because then it won't
matter."
                "That's three days from
now!"
                Urchin shrugged, surveying his
injured foot. "Be hard to steal with this."
                Kellin stared at the swollen limb,
marking the angry discoloration and the streaks beginning to make their way up
Urchin's leg. It was a far worse injury than the few slices in his hand.
"You need that healed."
                Urchin's mouth hooked down.
"Leeches cost coin.”
                Morbidly fascinated by the infected
limb, Kellin knelt down to look more closely. "A Cheysuli could heal this,
and he would cost nothing."
                Urchin snorted.
                "He could," Kellm
insisted. "I could, had I a lir."
                Urchin's eyes widened. "You say
you're Cheysuli?"
                "I am. But I can't heal
yet." Kellin shrugged a little. "Until I have a lir, I'm just like
you." The wound stank of early putrefaction. "My grandsire will heal
you. He has a lir; he can." And he will heal my wounds, too.
                Urchin grunted. "Will he come
here to pay your copper?"
                Kellin considered it.
"No," he said finally, feeling small inside. "I think Rogan will
do that, and I doubt he will like it."
                "Few men like parting with
coin."
                "Oh, it is not the coin. He
will not like why he has to do it, and it will give him fuel to use against me
for months." Kellin cast a glance around the gloomy room. "He would
say I deserved this, to teach me a lesson. But it was the Lion—" He looked
quickly at Urchin, breaking off.
                The Homanan boy frowned. "What
lion?"
                "Nothing." Kellin left
Urchin's side and retreated to a pallet near the door. He pressed shoulder
blades into the wall. "He will come for me."
                "That tutor?" Urchin's
mouth twisted. "I had a tutor, once. He taught me how to steal."
                Kellin shrugged. "Then
stop."
                "Stop." Urchin stared.
"D'ye think it's so easy? D'ye think I asked the gods for this life?"
                "No one would ask it. But