last, raising his goblet in salute, ‘you monkey-faced little bugger. We’ll miss you.’
Doranei kept quiet, he’d said his goodbyes already, but he downed the rest of his wine with the other two. When a girl brought them a plate of bread and white crumbly cheese he ignored it and picked up the wine jug, his eyes still on the workmen below.
‘Something I thought I’d never see,’ he said eventually, more to himself than the others. ‘You see those men with white scarves tied round their necks?’
Veil looked up from his food a moment. ‘Look like they’re in charge of the work. Some sort of labourers’ guild? I saw a few on the way here like that.’
Veil was a wiry man a few winters younger than Doranei. He wore his dark hair long, tied back with twine. Unlike Doranei he’d been late coming into the care of the Brotherhood; he’d been twelve winters when his parents died of the white plague. He’d been marked as someone worth watching from his very first night, when he’d blackened Ilumene’s eye before the older boy had managed to land a blow, a very rare occurrence.
‘I’ve been asking about that building. The owner was killed when it collapsed, but someone bought the plot and is rebuilding. Word is that it’s going to be some sort of sanctuary.’
‘And?’
‘And that sanctuary will be for anyone in need, run by followers of the child Ruhen — that’s what the white scarves signify. They’re the ones camped outside the Ruby Tower.’
Veil took a closer look at the men Doranei was talking about. One wore a tattered leather jerkin that looked like padding to go underneath mail; the rest looked in even worse condition. ‘It’s no sense of civic duty. The fucker’s pissing on Sebe’s grave.’
‘The ones you saw in the other districts have been preaching a bit too, mainly anti-cult talk. There’s no one in Byora going to defend any of the cults nowadays, not since the clerics’ rebellion when they tried to assassinate the duchess. Sebe and I started listening when we realised there’s a whole bunch of them spreading the word. Those who’re receptive to the message are taken aside and told about a prophecy, a prophecy of the Saviour that’s known to only the Harlequins.’
‘Let me guess,’ Osh said grimly, ‘this prophecy sees no need for the cults at all?’
‘They’re keeping it close to their chests at the moment, only telling those willing to believe anything: the desperate, the poor, those with a grudge against the Gods or the cults. There have been stories running through the city for weeks now about Ruhen performing miracles — breaking a curse, protecting the duchess from the clerics trying to kill her — that’s what the crowd outside the compound are there for. They’re praying to this child to intercede on their behalf with the Gods.’
‘So those who know the secret put two and two together and get a new God for their pains.’
Veil grimaced, imagining what sort of God Azaer would make.
Osh paused mid-bite. ‘There’s a crowd of beggars outside the Ruby Tower gates? How big?’
‘Few hundred at least,’ Doranei said.
‘Are we talking fanatics here?’
‘Not for the most part, mostly folk broken by the Land they’re living in and desperate for something better.’
‘Thank the Gods,’ Osh said with relief. ‘We already know we’re going to have to deal with guards and distract any Menin soldiers — I don’t much fancy cutting my way through a crowd of men and women willing to die to protect the child.’
‘Speaking of which,’ Doranei said, ‘what tricks do we have on that front? The crowd should be easy enough to frighten out of the way, but that’s the easy part. We need a diversion to give us a chance, and I guess we’ll need every mage we’ve got inside the compound.’
‘The king has assembled a box of tricks for you to play with,’ Veil said with a half-smile. ‘For fighters we got the Brotherhood. We’ve got four thieves from Tio He who’re bloody covered in charms of Cerdin, and we’ve got Osh here. Plus two high mages in the forms of our favourite bickering old women — Masters Shile Cetarn and Tomal Endine — plus two battle-mages. And then we’ve the more unusual members of our team: Camba Firnin is an illusionist by trade, but she’s from the College of Magic and her bag of powders and chemicals’ll do more than just make you think you’re dead. Telasin Daemon-Touch you must’a heard