very strict there.’
‘At least she’s getting some rest. From what I hear, the Princess Arissa was a very busy young woman.’ He straightened and pointed at a nearby cot. ‘You can use that one,’ he told Sparhawk. ‘I’ve got every thief and beggar in Cimmura out looking for this Krager fellow of yours. If he sets foot in the streets, we’ll know about it within an hour. In the meantime, you might as well get some sleep.’
Sparhawk nodded and rose to his feet. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked Kalten.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Do you need anything?’
‘How about some beer – just to restore all the blood I lost, of course.’
It was impossible to tell what time it was since the cellar had no windows. Sparhawk felt a light touch and came awake immediately, catching the hand that had touched him.
The grubby-looking boy, Talen, made a sour face. ‘Never try to pick a pocket when you’re shivering,’ he said. He mopped the rain out of his face. ‘It’s really a miserable morning out there,’ he added.
‘Were you looking for anything in particular in my pockets?’
‘No, not really – just anything that might turn up.’
‘Would you like to give me back my friend’s ring?’
‘Oh, I suppose so. I only took it to keep in practice anyway.’ Talen reached inside the wet tunic and drew out Kalten’s ring. ‘I cleaned the blood off it for him,’ he said, admiring it.
‘He’ll appreciate that.’
‘Oh, by the way, I found that fellow you were looking for.’
‘Krager? Where?’
‘He’s staying in a brothel in Lion Street.’
‘A brothel?’
‘Maybe he needs affection.’
Sparhawk sat up. He touched his horsehair beard to make sure it was still in place. ‘Let’s go talk to Platime.’
‘Do you want me to wake your friend?’
‘Let him sleep. I’m not going to take him out in the rain in his condition anyway.’
Platime was snoring in his chair, but his eyes opened instantly when Talen touched his shoulder.
‘The boy found Krager,’ Sparhawk told him.
‘You’re going after him, I suppose?’
Sparhawk nodded.
‘Do you think the primate’s soldiers are still looking for you?’
‘Probably.’
‘And they know what you look like?’
‘Yes.’
‘You won’t get very far then.’
‘I’ll have to chance it.’
‘Platime,’ Talen said.
‘What?’
‘Do you remember that time when we had to get Weasel out of town in a hurry?’
Platime grunted, scratching at his paunch and looking speculatively at Sparhawk. ‘How much are you attached to that beard?’ he asked.
‘Not too much. Why?’
‘If you’d be willing to shave it off, I know a way you might be able to move around Cimmura without being recognized.’
Sparhawk began pulling off chunks of the false beard.
Platime laughed. ‘You really aren’t attached to it, are you?’ He looked at Talen. ‘Go and get what he’ll need out of the bin.’
Talen went to a large wooden box in the corner of the cellar and started rummaging around inside as Sparhawk finished removing the beard. When the boy came back, he was carrying a ragged-looking cloak and a pair of shoes that were little more than rotting leather bags.
‘How much of the rest of your face will come off?’ Platime asked.
Sparhawk took the ragged cloak from Talen and poured some of Platime’s wine on one corner. Then he vigorously scrubbed his face, removing the remnants of Sephrenia’s glue and the purple scar.
‘The nose?’ Platime asked.
‘No. That’s real.’
‘How did it get broken?’
‘It’s a long story.’
Platime shrugged. ‘Take off your boots and those leather breeches. You’ll wear the cloak and those shoes.’
Sparhawk pulled off his boots and peeled off the leather hose. Talen draped the cloak around him, then pulled one corner across the front and fastened it to the opposite shoulder so that it covered Sparhawk’s body and reached about haltway to his knees.
Platime squinted at him. ‘Put on the shoes and rub some dirt on your legs. You look a bit too clean.’ Talen went back to the bin and returned with a scuffed leather cap, a long, slender stick and a length of dirty sackcloth.
‘Put on the cap and tie the rag across your eyes,’ Platime instructed.
Sparhawk did that.
‘Can you see well enough through the bandage?’
‘I can make things out, but that’s about all.’
‘I don’t want you to see too well. You’re supposed to be blind. Get him a begging bowl, Talen.’ Platime turned back to Sparhawk. ‘Practise walking around a bit. Swing the stick in front of you, but bump into things from time to time and don’t forget to stumble.’
‘It’s an interesting idea, Platime, but I know exactly where I’m going. Won’t that make people suspicious?’
‘Talen will lead you. You’ll just be a pair of ordinary beggars.’
Sparhawk hitched up his belt and shifted his broadsword around.
‘You’re going to have to leave that here,’ Platime told him. ‘You can hide a dagger under the cloak, but a broadsword’s a little too obvious.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’ Sparhawk pulled out his sword and handed it to the fat man in the orange doublet. ‘Don’t lose it,’ he said. Then he began to practise the blind man’s groping walk, tapping the long, slender stick Talen had given him on the floor as he went.
‘Not too bad,’ Platime said after several minutes. ‘You pick things up fast, Sparhawk. It ought to be good enough to get you by. Talen can teach you how to beg as you go along.’
Talen came back from the large wooden storage box. His left leg looked grotesquely twisted, and he limped along with the aid of a crutch. He had removed his gaudy waistcoat, and he was now dressed in rags.
‘Doesn’t that hurt?’ Sparhawk asked, pointing at the boy’s leg with his stick.
‘Not much. All you have to do is walk on the side of your foot and turn your knee in.’
‘It looks very convincing.’
‘Naturally. I’ve had a lot of practice.’
‘Are you both ready then?’ Platime asked.
‘Probably as ready as we’ll ever be,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘I don’t think I’ll be very good at begging, though.’
‘Talen can teach you the basics. It’s not too hard. Good luck, Sparhawk.’
‘Thanks. I might need it.’
It was the middle of a grey rainy morning when Sparhawk and his young guide emerged from the cellar and started back down the muddy alleyway.