to the impulse. When Hatu reached the wall near the unfinished doorway, he eased himself over and down, landing lightly on the balls of his feet.
He tried to stay clear of any line of sight from within through the huge door opening but moved quickly, one step shy of a run, until he saw the crate he had left next to the building. He risked three fast steps and a jump onto the box, grabbed the eaves of the roof, and pulled himself up. If the guards at the gate noticed any noise, Hatu would be off across the roofs of the next three buildings before they had the chance to climb up and investigate.
Hatu reached the edge of the final roof, and with no sign of pursuit, he sat. His heart felt as if it might pound out of his chest and he could barely breathe. He took some time to steady himself and, when he was ready, lowered himself to the ground and rounded the corner into the street that would return him to the market and the burned-out temple beyond. The beggar boy walked at a good pace, fast enough to look like someone with purpose: the sort of behaviour that often kept petty thieves, pickpockets, and thugs from approaching, that hinted they would do well to seek easier prey. Even a ragged beggar boy might have something worth stealing. It was early enough in the night that people still moved through the streets and the evicted drunks hadn’t yet started wandering.
It felt as if it took hours for Hatu to find his way back to Master Bodai, but he knew it was more like minutes. Even with people on the streets, in most cities a lone figure at this time of night was likely to draw the attention of the town watch, and this city seemed under even more scrutiny than most, so he had taken his time and paused often to ensure he wasn’t seen.
When Hatu passed through the burned-out door he found the false monk stirring something in a pot above a small fire. Bodai took one look at Hatu’s face, ignored the heat, and used his stirring stick to overturn the clay pot and extinguish the fire. ‘What?’ he asked calmly.
Hatu hunkered down. ‘I gained entrance to the citadel grounds and, before seeking a way in, set off to inspect the cathedral as you instructed. I spied two men making their way into the unfinished building.
‘They spoke a tongue I did not recognise at first. One was dressed like that church soldier at the docks, an officer or an official, but he met with five other men in hiding, dressed like sicari.’
Bodai held up his hand, and Hatu ceased speaking.
‘Like sicari?’
‘I could not see much, but there were differences.’
‘Describe them.’
Hatu paused, collecting his thoughts. ‘Their head covers were not like the ones our men wear. They looked more like turbans’ – he made a wrapping motion around his own head – ‘not the big ones like the traders from—’
‘Enough,’ interrupted Bodai. ‘What else?’
‘I could see little, but one opened a shuttered lantern briefly and I could see that their clothing was looser than that of our sicari, with a wide belt and an over-vest, I think; it was very dark. And by then I could understand some of what they said.’
Bodai tilted his head, much as a dog might when listening. ‘Go on.’
‘They spoke our tongue, master. But with an accent unlike any I’ve heard before. It was thick and alien to my ear.’
‘Describe it.’
Hatu said, ‘At first I could not make it out, for they …’ He paused, then continued, ‘seem to swallow the sounds rather than speak them as we do.’ Bodai nodded. ‘They held the sound “o” in the hack of their throat, so it wasn’t made clear.’
Bodai said, ‘Did they shorten their words?’
Hatu’s eyes widened. ‘Yes, that is it! That is why I had trouble until my ear became used to the sound. They spoke as if they had rocks in their cheeks!’
Bodai let out a slow sigh. He nodded slightly, then began gathering his scant goods and putting them in his travel bag, and asked, ‘What else?’
Hatu continued, ‘They spoke of meetings, messages, and much of the meaning was hidden, but they knew of what they spoke. They said only one word I understood clearly; they repeated it twice, and that was the word I recognised first.’
‘What did they say?’
‘Your name, “Bodai”. They took out what must have been a map, as each man was given a gate to watch, and one stationed at the docks. The man from the church said he’d send others to go with the five sicari, and other men would be sent for.’
‘We go now,’ said Bodai, standing up.
Hatu grabbed his go-bag and followed Bodai out of the building. They moved towards the docks but turned to the east at the small plaza. ‘There is a place we must visit before we are found,’ said Bodai as they walked quickly. ‘For if they do not see us try to leave tomorrow, they will begin searching the city in earnest.’ He looked around as they reached an empty corner and lowered his voice. ‘But should ill befall me, or we get separated, you must get back to Coaltachin. You know how to seek a ship?’
Hatu said, ‘Yes, seeking an island to the east.’
Bodai nodded once in affirmation. ‘Seek out Zusara, and tell him what you told me.’ Hatu nodded, despite the fact that the prospect of meeting the most powerful master in Coaltachin alone only added to his worry.
‘The men you took for sicari, they are from Azhante. Speak that name back to me.’
‘Azhante,’ repeated Hatu.
‘Now, do not speak that name to anyone but Master Zusara or me; not even to another master. Do you understand?’
Hatushaly said, ‘Yes, master.’
He glanced down at Hatu, then motioned for him to follow.
Seeing no one around, Bodai asked, ‘What else did you see?’
A sudden memory struck Hatu. ‘Badges, I think. They wore small badges shaped differently from any I’ve seen. I only remember them because of how they flashed in the lantern light.’
Bodai nodded. ‘Black lacquered badges, which is why they caught light. It keeps infiltrators from—’ He stopped and, looking at Hatu, said, ‘Never mind. You should know only what you need to know, and you know a bit more than that already.’
The two moved with the purpose of people on their way to a destination, perhaps a bit late, hence their quickened pace. Hatu stayed one step behind Bodai as a beggar boy would, showing respect for a holy man.
Glancing continuously from side to side, Bodai quietly asked, ‘Where are those men from?’
‘Azhante,’ replied Hatu. Being questioned so soon about that name informed Hatu that Bodai considered it to be critical.
Reaching a corner, they turned, and Bodai stopped before the first door on the right, opposite a backwash inlet from the harbour, covered in drifting refuse, dead fish, and other flotsam. Bodai struck the door once, waited, then struck once more, waited again, then struck three times.
The door opened to reveal a pair of armed men, weapons drawn. Bodai said, ‘We need to travel to an island in the east.’ The men stepped aside and put away their blades, and Bodai and Hatu entered.
A lantern rested on a table in a sparsely furnished room. Two chairs had been positioned against one wall, and the cold fireplace on the back wall lay next to a door with a dark curtain. ‘A ship leaves on the morning tide,’ said one of the two men.
‘Getting to the docks might prove a problem,’ said Bodai. ‘Apparently both the king and the Church are looking for us. Someone must have realised who I was after we left the docks this morning.’
The man who had spoken looked at his silent companion and said, ‘Never easy, is it?’
The second man shook his head.
The first man brought over the two chairs and said,