A Little Hatred (The Age of Madness #1) - Joe Abercrombie Page 0,11

‘For me?’

She knew that in her button and buckle manufactory in Holsthorm, smaller and probably dirtier children were paid a fraction as much for a long day’s hard labour. The manager insisted little fingers were best suited to little tasks, and cost only little wages, too. But Holsthorm was far away, and things in the distance seem very small. Even the sufferings of children.

‘For you.’ She did not go as far as ruffling his hair, of course. Who knew what might be living in it?

‘Such a nice boy,’ said Zuri, watching him hurry away into the gloom with the coin in one fist and his sputtering torch in the other.

‘They all are,’ said Savine. ‘When you have something they want.’

‘None more blessed, my scripture-teacher once declared, than those who light the way for others.’

‘Was that the one who fathered a child on one of his other pupils?’

‘That’s him.’ Zuri’s black brows thoughtfully rose. ‘So much for spiritual instruction.’

The grimy ale-hall fell silent as Savine swept in, as if some exotic jungle beast had wandered off the street.

Zuri whipped out a cloth and wiped down a vacant section of the counter, then, as Savine sat, she slipped out the pin and whisked away her hat without disturbing a hair. She kept it close to her chest, which was prudent. Savine’s hat was probably worth more than this entire building, including the clientele. At a brief assay, they only reduced its value.

‘Well, well.’ The man behind the counter was easing forwards, wiping his hands on his stained apron and giving Savine a lingering look up and down. ‘I’m tempted to say this is no place for a lady like you.’

‘We’ve only just met. You really have no idea what kind of lady I am. Why, you could be taking your life in your hands just talking to me.’

‘Reckon I’m brave enough if you are.’ By his squinty grin, he had somehow convinced himself he held some appeal to the fairer sex. ‘What’s your name?’

She planted one elbow on the stretch of counter Zuri had wiped so she could lean closer and draw out both syllables. ‘Savine.’

‘That’s a lovely name.’

‘Oh, if you enjoy the tip, you’ll go mad for the whole thing.’

‘That so?’ he purred at her. ‘How does it go?’

‘Savine … dan …’ And she leaned even closer to deliver the punchline. ‘Glokta.’

If a name had been a knife and she had cut his throat with hers, the blood could not have drained more quickly from his face. He gave a strangled cough, took a step back and nearly fell over one of his own barrels.

‘Lady Savine.’ Majir was coming from an upstairs office, wooden steps creaking under her considerable weight. ‘What an honour.’

‘Isn’t it, though? Your man and I were just getting acquainted.’

Majir glanced towards the ghost-faced barman. ‘Would you like him to apologise?’

‘For what? Not being as brave as he claimed? If we executed men for that, I swear there wouldn’t be a dozen left alive in the Union, eh, Zuri?’

Zuri clasped Savine’s hat sadly to her breast. ‘Heroes are in lamentably short supply.’

Majir cleared her throat. ‘If I’d known you were coming all the way down here yourself—’

‘If I spent all my time shut up with Mother, we would kill each other,’ said Savine. ‘And I feel that business should be conducted, whenever possible, in person. Otherwise one’s partners can convince themselves that one’s eyes are not on the details. My eyes are always on the details, Majir.’

In low company, Savine could be low. These were bullies, so they needed to be bullied. It was the language they understood. Majir’s thick neck shifted as she swallowed. ‘Who would dare doubt it?’ And she laid a flat leather pouch on the counter.

‘It’s all there?’

‘A promissory note from the banking house of Valint and Balk.’

‘Really?’ Valint and Balk had a dark reputation, even for a bank. Savine’s father had often warned her never to deal with them, because once you owe Valint and Balk, the debt is never done. But a promissory note was just money, and money can never be a bad thing. She tossed the pouch to Zuri, who peered inside and gave the smallest nod. ‘It’s coming to something when even the bandits are using the bank.’

Majir mildly raised one brow. ‘Honest women have the law to protect them. Bandits must take more care with their earnings.’

‘You’re a darling.’ Savine reached across the counter to pinch her fat cheek and give it an affectionate tug. ‘Thank you, Zuri.