The Ambassador's Mission: Book One of th - By Trudi Canavan Page 0,96

even more to do, ferrying information about the rogue to you and Regin.”

“The hospices will take care of themselves,” he told her. Moving to the chairs, he handed her a cup of steaming raka. “And we’ll take care of you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You and Regin?”

He nodded. “I told you: he’s matured into a sensible young man.”

“Young man?” Sonea scoffed. “Only in comparison to yourself, old friend. He’s only a year or two younger than me, with two grown daughters.”

“Even so,” Rothen replied with a chuckle. “He’s improved a great deal from the novice you thrashed in the Arena.”

Sonea looked away. “He’d have to, wouldn’t he? Couldn’t have got much worse.” She gave him a searching look. “Can we trust him, do you think?”

He met her eyes, his expression serious. “I believe so. He has always valued the integrity of his House and family, and the Guild. It was the source of his arrogance as a young man and is now his motivation as an adult. It bothers him that so much lawlessness has crept in to all those things. This is another way he can help set things to right. He’s sensible enough to realise the best way is for us to do it together, in secret. The Guild may not make a mess of finding the rogue, but there’s a chance they will. We can’t take that chance.”

“You’re probably right.” Sonea grimaced. “And you had better be right about Regin, because if he wants to make my life unpleasant he certainly has the means to do it now.”

The Black Tub bathhouse wasn’t as clean as Cery would have liked. It stank of mould and the cheap perfume meant to mask the odour, and the gowns he and Gol had been given bore some interesting repairs and stains. But the place was the only establishment within sight of the pawnshop that they could plausibly linger in, so it needed investigation.

They had been led to a changing room and left there. It was on the first floor, with cheap undecorated window screens hiding the customers from the street. After changing into the gowns, Gol had slipped out of the room to investigate those next to it and Cery had moved a chair to one of the windows. Cery slid the screen open and smiled in satisfaction as he saw that the pawnshop was within view.

The door opened again, but it was only Gol returning.

“What do you think?”

“There’s nobody in the rooms around us, but I can’t vouch for upstairs. We can talk, but quietly.” Then he grimaced. “It’s a bit run down.”

“And the service is slow,” Cery agreed. “Probably from lack of staff.” He indicated the window. “But the view is good.”

Gol moved closer and peered outside. “It sure is.”

“We should take it in turns. One watching while the other scrubs up.”

The big man grimaced. “The water better not be as bad as this place smells.” He moved another chair and sat down. “Did our friend say anything about how she intended to do her business?”

Cery shook his head. Sonea’s message had been cryptic, saying only that she would be dealing with the matter he had drawn her attention to, thanking him for the information and telling him to send any further news to the hospice. Clearly she was being cryptic in case the letter was intercepted. If she is dealing with the matter of the rogue then it’s unlikely she’s told the Guild anything. They wouldn’t trust her with the task of finding the woman.

A knock came from the door. Cery slid closed the screen back across the window.

“Come in,” he called.

The same thin young woman who had led them to the changing room opened the door and stepped inside. She did not meet their eyes.

“The bath is nearly ready. Would you like it warm or hot?”

“Hot,” Cery replied.

“Would you like it scented? We have—”

“No,” Gol interrupted firmly.

“Do you have a little salt?” Cery asked. He’d heard a salt bath was good for sore muscles, and he was still aching from the practice knife-fight bout he’d had that morning. It was also good for cleaning bad water, too.

“We do.” She named a price that raised Gol’s eyebrows.

“We’ll have it,” Cery told her.

The girl nodded politely and left the room. Turning to the window, Cery opened the screen again and glanced outside. The street was busier now.

“Should we convince Makkin the Buyer to help us?” Gol asked. “He’s already scared of her so it won’t make her suspicious