Raymond E. Feist

Jimmy the Hand


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from that that the old man was still willing to earn his silver. If he’d finished talking Neville probably would have spat on him. And then I’d have had to kill the old bastard. Or himself. The idea of being spat on by Noxious Neville was that revolting.

      ‘Did you,’ Jimmy repeated evenly, ‘ever hear of anyone escaping?’

      The old man looked aside, shaking his head and waving the question away.

      ‘Is there any way in or out that the guards don’t watch?’ Jimmy asked desperately.

      ‘Only thing I know about is the drain in the floor of the big cell.’ He chuckled, giving Jimmy an evil look. ‘But you wouldn’t like that, it’s the hole we pissed in.’

      Jimmy just stared at him, thinking hard. No, he didn’t like it, but it might have possibilities.

      ‘This drain, it leads directly to the sewers?’ he asked. ‘Or does the keep have a separate outfall to the harbour?’

      Neville laughed again and Jimmy reflected that the old coot was getting a lot more pleasure out of this conversation than he should be.

      ‘How should I know?’ Neville demanded. ‘Ye think I follow me piss to see where it goes? The hole’s only this big!’ He held his hands up to indicate a circle the size of a dinner plate and Jimmy’s heart sank again.

      ‘Hey!’ Neville said and gave the boy a poke. ‘Maybe the Upright Man knows a way out of the prison. Why don’t ye ask him?’ And he laughed wildly.

      The young thief rose and started to walk away.

      ‘Hey!’ the beggar screeched. ‘Where’s my money?’ He held out a skinny hand.

      Jimmy flipped him the single silver he’d first offered.

      ‘Hey!’ Noxious Neville cried. ‘Yer s’posed to gi’ me more! That was the bargain.’

      ‘The bargain,’ Jimmy said coldly, ‘was that if I thought your information was worth more, I’d give you more. Give me something I can use.’

      The old man made grumbling noises and glared at him, but something made Jimmy wait. ‘Leads to the sewers,’ Neville finally conceded. ‘But the tunnel’s half caved in, ain’t safe.’

      ‘And the drain?’ Jimmy asked. ‘Can someone get down there?’

      Neville turned his head this way and that, as though protesting the continued questioning, then he nodded. ‘Drain used to be bigger,’ he admitted. ‘Filled it in a bit wi’ bits of stone and mortar they did. Shaft’s big enough for someone skinny. Give it a coupla good kicks and the drain’ll fall open, big enough for someone to crawl down if’n he don’t have too much girth.’

      Light broke in Jimmy’s mind and he stared at the old beggar. ‘You’ve used it!’ he accused. ‘You used that shaft to escape!’

      Neville broke out in a flurry of crazed motions meant to indicate go away and leave me alone or there’ll be trouble – a move he’d perfected over a long career of dealing with the public.

      Jimmy stabbed a finger at him, unimpressed. ‘Stop it!’ He glared until the old man settled down and glared back at him. ‘Now,’ he said evenly, ‘tell me what I want to know and if it turns out to be the truth, I’ll give you this.’ He flashed a gold coin for a fraction of a second. ‘If it turns out you’re lying, you get nothing.’

      A gold coin was a fortune to a man like Neville; it would get him fifty flagons of ale – a hundred if he stuck to the really vile stuff sold in the Poor Quarter. He sat sucking his gums and thinking it over.

      ‘Why not?’ he said at last. ‘Not like’s a secret worth keeping. I’s a thief once, ’n young. They caught me, wasn’t easy.’

      Noxious Neville’s face took on a slackly reminiscent grin and just when Jimmy thought he’d have to shake him to bring him back to the here and now he began speaking again.

      ‘I was gonna hang.’ Neville spat again. ‘But I knew if I had time and patience I’d get out. There’s a grille,’ he said, pointing down with one dirty finger.

      Jimmy glanced down automatically then grimaced and looked back at the old man.

      ‘Not too big, mind, but me, I could.’ Neville wriggled where he sat, arms working above his head as though squeezing through a tight space. ‘M’shoulders come apart,’ he said and gave a wheezing laugh at the young thief’s look of doubt.

      Not that Jimmy hadn’t heard of such before, but it was hard to believe the human wreck before him would have such a useful attribute.

      Neville slapped his knee, laughing and after a moment he went on. ‘Those days the grille wasn’t even mortared, they di’nt think anybody could get down that shaft.’ He shook his head, grinning. ‘Wished I coulda seen their faces wh’n they come fer me.’ He chuckled.

      Jimmy nodded. ‘So where is it?’ he asked.

      Neville stared into space, one finger tracing the air as he tried to remember the route. ‘Take the fourth shaft at Five Points,’ he said uncertainly. ‘No, no, take the second –’ He went silent, gazing. Suddenly he was more animated. ‘Go toward dockside, always go for the lower way … no, no, that leads to the fullers. Don’t want to go there.’ He huffed impatiently. ‘I know how te get there,’ he said impatiently, ‘I jes’ never had to tell anybody how to get there.’

       Jimmy stood. ‘Show me then. It’ll be easier.’

      The old beggar looked at him as though Jimmy had suggested he strip to his loin-cloth and dance on a table.

      ‘Not fer me!’ Neville said. He waved his flagon. ‘I’ve got all my comforts here.’ He looked around and waved a hand as though to indicate the cosiest surroundings in the city.

      Leaning close enough to singe his nose hairs Jimmy said, ‘Four silver above the gold if you show me.’

      Neville chewed his gums, looking at nothing, and didn’t answer.

      Jimmy chewed his upper lip impatiently, aware that Neville held the upper hand. What he had to do now was get the upper hand back before the beggar bargained him to bankruptcy.

      ‘I’ll buy a half skin of wine for the trip,’ Jimmy offered. ‘You can keep what’s left once we get there.’

      ‘Full skin,’ Neville countered.

      ‘Half.’

      ‘Full!’ the old beggar snapped. ‘S’a bit of a slog.’

      ‘Done,’ Jimmy said and somewhat reluctantly, held out his hand.

      Neville spat on his and clapped hold of the boy’s before Jimmy could draw away. Then laughed uproariously at the young thief’s disgusted expression.

       • Chapter Four • Plotting

      Jimmy slipped through the crowd.

      ‘Larry,’ Jimmy said.

      The younger boy gave a well-concealed start and Jimmy felt a small spurt of pride. Sneaking up on guardsmen was easy, but the boy was a fellow professional.

      ‘I’ve found something out,’ Jimmy said, looking around the crowd to make sure they weren’t overheard. ‘A way into the dungeon.’ He made a pressing gesture with his hand. ‘But there’s a problem.’

      ‘What problem?’

      ‘The only one who knows the way is Noxious Neville – so we have to take him along.’

      Larry’s face went from joyful to sour, as if he’d just bitten into something unpleasant.

      ‘And I had to