The Black Lung Captain - By Chris Wooding Page 0,112

time now. But I'll find him. You could come back in a week or so.' He picked up another piece of jigsaw and began feeling around for a place to put it. 'Wouldn't advise it, though.'

'What does that mean?' Frey asked, who was a little tired of being left out of the nuances of this conversation.

'Means your ladyfriend took a big chance, comin' here,' Smult said. The shadow of his wide-brimmed hat fell across his face as he turned back to his jigsaw. 'Walking around in the open, her craft and crew hundreds of kloms away, with just you for protection? Or perhaps she believes her reputation alone is enough to make men fear her? Foolish attitude, if you ask me. The bounty that's on her head, someone might be tempted to take a risk.'

Frey's eyes flickered over the bodyguards. They'd sensed the change in the air, and were ready with their guns. He wished he hadn't given his weapons in at the door now.

Trinica's expression was hard. 'You wouldn't touch me,' she said to Smult. 'You're a whispermonger. You don't take sides, and you don't get involved. If word got out, you'd be ruined.'

Smult cackled. 'You reckon me right, Miss Dracken. That bounty ain't worth a chicken's arse to me. But I can't speak for them out there.' He thumbed over his shoulder, in the vague direction of the outside. 'Might be there's people waitin' for you. People who heard you were comin' to Hawk Point in the company of some shabby, no-account bunch who couldn't be trusted to tie their own bootlaces.'

'Hey!' Frey cried. 'I can tie my damn bootlaces just fine!'

Trinica ignored him. 'You sold them the information,' she said coldly. 'You knew I'd be looking for Grist, and you knew I'd come to you first.'

'You said it yourself,' Smult grinned. 'I'm a whispermonger. I don't take sides. Not even yours.'

'This is dogshit!' Frey said. 'If they knew we were here, they'd have jumped us the moment we left the landing pad.'

Smult tapped the bag of coins of the table in front of him. 'I asked 'em not to. I hate to waste a profit.'

'How much for you to tell us where they'll be waiting?' Trinica said.

Smult smiled to himself, and clicked another piece of his jigsaw into place.

Twenty-Four

Double-Dealing —

Spindle Street — A Surprise

The back streets of Hawk Point could scarcely be called streets at all. They were a shanty of lean-tos and hovels that had crowded together without pattern or purpose. The gaps between dwellings were little more than baked mud tracks strewn with old litter. The wind that blew across the mountains couldn't find a way into the maze, leaving the air ripe and stale. The inhabitants - old dogs and half-starved cut-throats - stuck to the shadows and sweltered.

Frey kept a wary eye on the shanty dwellers, who watched him warily in return. They were desperate people, ignorant and unskilled, mostly descended from the serfs that the Dukes freed when they deposed King Andreal of Glane. They came to the cities in an attempt to escape the poverty of the countryside, only to find they were unable to afford Guild fees and therefore couldn't work. Eventually, they ended up in the settlements and outposts, scratching a living as black-market dock-hands or petty thieves. Able-bodied men found themselves recruited as pirates. Women were taken on as cleaners, if they were lucky. Children were often sold off to the mines.

They had a bad lot, all in all. But desperate people tended to do desperate things, so Frey's hand was never far from his pistol.

Smult had been good enough to return their weapons after he'd taken Trinica for all the money she had. He'd given them detailed information about where their enemies lay in ambush for them, and told them how to avoid the traps. So now they were on their way back to the Ketty Jay, taking a route through the outskirts that circled the settlement. Scurrying like rats, hoping to stay unnoticed.

Frey had to admire the whispermonger's gall. Selling out Trinica, then selling out the people he'd sold her out to. Trinica, however, was not at all amused. She was incandescent with suppressed rage.

He took the silver earcuff from his pocket and clipped it on. 'Jez? Can you hear me?'

'Cap'n.' She sounded faintly surprised. Perhaps she hadn't expected him to speak to her.

'There's two men with rifles covering the landing pad. One in the north-east corner on the roof of the dock master's office. The