hat on the table and called for a cup of the house
best before he settled into the seat. "Ah, Caim. It's good to see you again,
but you don't have to worry. Every man in here is an ardent supporter of
the Azure Hawks. They've pledged not to give up the fight until the
theocrats are dragged down from their gilded thrones."
Caim glanced around the taproom. "Gathering quite the little army,
aren't you? I thought I saw a few tinmen shaking in their armor tonight."
Hubert spread his hands as if delivering a benediction. "The people
clamor for freedom, Caim. I am but a humble servant of the public
welfare."
Caim tossed the purse onto the table. "And regular infusions of my
money don't hurt either, do they?"
Hubert covered the purse with his hat and pulled it into his lap. "Not
at all. The Hawks are very grateful for your generosity. It's donors such as
yourself that fuel the engines of our progress."
Caim couldn't resist. "You've had progress?"
Hubert didn't notice the jibe. "Naturally. Our forces are marshalling.
Plans are being laid. One day we will free the people from the Council's
tyranny. One day very soon!"
He glanced around as if expecting a chorus to support his claim. A
few tired drinkers nodded in his direction, but most simply stared into
the depths of their cups.
"Well." Hubert turned back to Caim. "It will happen. And we'll have
you to thank."
"So why did you feel the need to bring a gang of strong-arms to our
meeting?"
"How-?" Hubert gave him a weak smile. "I should have known.
They are merely waiting outside for my protection. The streets are dangerous these days. I would never dream of insulting a man of your
talents."
"Good. I wouldn't want any misunderstandings, Hubert. I respect
what you do, misguided though it may be at times. However, this will be
my last donation for a time."
"But we need your support now more than ever. Things are heating
up. We're staging demonstrations nearly every day."
"I understand, but I've got my own problems."
"But-"
"Look, Hubert. I'm taking some time away from the contract game."
"How long?"
"I'm not sure. A couple months, maybe more."
Hubert leaned across the table. "Then come join us. We could use a
man like you."
Caim pushed his empty cup away. "No offense, but I'm not interested. Your little enterprise has been interesting, and anything that keeps
the bigwigs off balance is good for business, but you don't need my help
to burn down storefronts and break into warehouses. You've got plenty of
supporters now, right?"
"Sure, I can assemble disgruntled clerks and teamsters by the hun dredhead, but I need fighters,
Caim. Sooner or later we're going to have
to face the Reds head-on. We'll need you."
Caim sat back deeper in the shadows. He knew what Hubert wanted:
another pawn to push around in his game of politics. But Caim wasn't
interested. He had his own battles to fight. Giving to the Hawks had
seemed like a good idea, a way of giving back some of the blood money
he earned to help a worthy cause. Now he could see it had been a mistake.
"No, Hubert. I agree things in Othir are getting worse, but I'm not
a revolutionary. I work alone."
Hubert put his hat back on as he stood up. "The offer's always open
if you change your mind."
"I won't."
Hubert started to say something when Kit phased through his body.
He didn't notice, of course, but the look on Calm's face must have been
unexpected, because he stopped talking in midsyllable.
"Caim!" Kit blurted. "You've got comp-"
The front door crashed open. Conversations stopped as a crowd of City
Watchmen filed into the common room. Without preamble they pulled
patrons out of their chairs and pushed them against the walls. A stout
man with an oily beard made a break for it. He got to the threshold of the
front door before a soldier cracked open the back of his head with a baton.
Everyone jumped to their feet. Even the old codgers stood up and shook
their bony fists, but by
best before he settled into the seat. "Ah, Caim. It's good to see you again,
but you don't have to worry. Every man in here is an ardent supporter of
the Azure Hawks. They've pledged not to give up the fight until the
theocrats are dragged down from their gilded thrones."
Caim glanced around the taproom. "Gathering quite the little army,
aren't you? I thought I saw a few tinmen shaking in their armor tonight."
Hubert spread his hands as if delivering a benediction. "The people
clamor for freedom, Caim. I am but a humble servant of the public
welfare."
Caim tossed the purse onto the table. "And regular infusions of my
money don't hurt either, do they?"
Hubert covered the purse with his hat and pulled it into his lap. "Not
at all. The Hawks are very grateful for your generosity. It's donors such as
yourself that fuel the engines of our progress."
Caim couldn't resist. "You've had progress?"
Hubert didn't notice the jibe. "Naturally. Our forces are marshalling.
Plans are being laid. One day we will free the people from the Council's
tyranny. One day very soon!"
He glanced around as if expecting a chorus to support his claim. A
few tired drinkers nodded in his direction, but most simply stared into
the depths of their cups.
"Well." Hubert turned back to Caim. "It will happen. And we'll have
you to thank."
"So why did you feel the need to bring a gang of strong-arms to our
meeting?"
"How-?" Hubert gave him a weak smile. "I should have known.
They are merely waiting outside for my protection. The streets are dangerous these days. I would never dream of insulting a man of your
talents."
"Good. I wouldn't want any misunderstandings, Hubert. I respect
what you do, misguided though it may be at times. However, this will be
my last donation for a time."
"But we need your support now more than ever. Things are heating
up. We're staging demonstrations nearly every day."
"I understand, but I've got my own problems."
"But-"
"Look, Hubert. I'm taking some time away from the contract game."
"How long?"
"I'm not sure. A couple months, maybe more."
Hubert leaned across the table. "Then come join us. We could use a
man like you."
Caim pushed his empty cup away. "No offense, but I'm not interested. Your little enterprise has been interesting, and anything that keeps
the bigwigs off balance is good for business, but you don't need my help
to burn down storefronts and break into warehouses. You've got plenty of
supporters now, right?"
"Sure, I can assemble disgruntled clerks and teamsters by the hun dredhead, but I need fighters,
Caim. Sooner or later we're going to have
to face the Reds head-on. We'll need you."
Caim sat back deeper in the shadows. He knew what Hubert wanted:
another pawn to push around in his game of politics. But Caim wasn't
interested. He had his own battles to fight. Giving to the Hawks had
seemed like a good idea, a way of giving back some of the blood money
he earned to help a worthy cause. Now he could see it had been a mistake.
"No, Hubert. I agree things in Othir are getting worse, but I'm not
a revolutionary. I work alone."
Hubert put his hat back on as he stood up. "The offer's always open
if you change your mind."
"I won't."
Hubert started to say something when Kit phased through his body.
He didn't notice, of course, but the look on Calm's face must have been
unexpected, because he stopped talking in midsyllable.
"Caim!" Kit blurted. "You've got comp-"
The front door crashed open. Conversations stopped as a crowd of City
Watchmen filed into the common room. Without preamble they pulled
patrons out of their chairs and pushed them against the walls. A stout
man with an oily beard made a break for it. He got to the threshold of the
front door before a soldier cracked open the back of his head with a baton.
Everyone jumped to their feet. Even the old codgers stood up and shook
their bony fists, but by
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