was, clad in a grey cloak that clearly meant something on the streets of this city. Already several men had fallen all over themselves trying to buy Carroll a drink, and no fewer than four whores had cruised the table, displaying their wares with an eagerness that made Christian feel queasy.
“I am a good fighter,” Christian said, trying to sound humble. “Even in the Creche, they say that your Queen’s Guard has weakened in hand-to-hand combat. You rely too much on swords, on steel.”
“Do we?” Carroll asked stiffly. “What else do they say?”
“That you’re no longer a match for the Caden. Not man to man.”
Carroll colored slightly; there must be some truth to the rumors after all. As a guild of assassins, the Caden were the main concern of the Queen’s Guard, an enemy that the Guard must be able to repel. But the Guard’s skills were on the wane, while the Caden were as sharp as ever. Christian had heard such talk from time to time, mostly around the ring. But he had never expected to care about idle report, and even less to use it to beg for a job.
“We could use you,” Carroll admitted slowly, though Christian could tell the admission pained him. “Elyssa has ten guards at present, but that will not be enough. She made a speech—”
“I heard about it.” And Christian had; even now, weeks after the event, it was all they talked of in the Gut. Even the starving peasants who slept near Christian in Bull Alley wouldn’t shut up about her. True Queen this and True Queen that . . . it was enough to drive a man mad. These topside people didn’t seem to understand how easy it was to mouth words, how little they mattered. A real True Queen would have gotten these people some food.
“She’s picked a fight,” Carroll said flatly. “With the nobility, the Church . . . in short, everyone with enough money to hire the Caden and pay for assassination. My captain says we’re in for a dangerous time, and I think he’s right.”
Dangerous, Christian thought, restraining a snort. He had been living rough on the streets of New London for only four days, but he already knew that its dangers paled in comparison to those of the tunnels. As if to prove his point, a mob of people moved past the windows of the pub, packed so thick that their skin flattened as they pressed against the windows. But their faces were bright and hopeful, almost transported. Their voices thundered down the street.
“The True Queen! Elyssa Raleigh! The True Queen! Elyssa Raleigh!”
“Is she?” Christian asked, for despite his skepticism, the crowd had aroused his curiosity. They seemed so damned certain of the Princess, all of them, even the beggars. “Is she the True Queen?”
Carroll took a moment before answering, and Christian was intrigued at the change that came over the guard’s face, the softening of eyes and mouth. Carroll looked like a man in love, or like the Blue Horizon fools when they raved about their better world.
“I don’t know whether she is or not,” Carroll finally replied. “But I know she wants to be. She wants to save us all; she has the will, and that’s more important than any prophecy. She will be a great queen . . . if we can only keep her alive until she takes the throne.”
“So bring me on. If times are so dire, I can certainly be an asset.”
“The Princess will need all the guards she can get, no doubt about that. But the Queen’s Guard . . . it’s not all about fighting, you know. There are other things. Honor, and loyalty, and—”
“Come off it,” Christian snorted. “I’ve seen the grey-cloaks in the tunnels. Not so often as the priests, mind you, but they come down, all the same. Don’t try to sell me on the honorable Guard. That’s not what it is.”
“It’s what it’s supposed to be!” Carroll snapped. “What good to improve in combat, if we let the rest fall to pieces? I owe you a debt, yes, and I mean to pay it. But bringing you into the Guard, it’s . . . it’s not . . .”
He trailed off, as though realizing that nothing he could say would improve matters. Christian said nothing, merely watched him. Food was expensive, and the remainder of the ten pounds Arliss had given him would only last another three days at most. Christian supposed he could