Sometimes a bunch, sometimes a single one like this one. Money comes to me in Krondor by various means; never the same twice. There’s a new gang in Krondor, run by someone calling himself the Crawler, and he’s causing the Mockers fits.’
‘Mockers?’ asked Gorath.
‘Thieves,’ said Locklear. ‘I’ll explain it later. Go on,’ he said, looking at Isaac.
‘Someone in Krondor is paying for gems. The Tsurani bring them in and hand them over to the moredhel. They run them over to Alescook and I go get them and bring them to Krondor. It’s a fairly simple arrangement.’
‘But someone’s running this. Who and where?’
Isaac sighed. ‘There’s a village south of Sarth. Called Yellow Mule. Know it?’
‘Villages like that don’t put up signs, but if it’s on the King’s Highway, I’ve ridden through it.’
‘It’s not. About twenty miles south of Sarth there’s a fork in the road, and if you go inland, you’re heading toward an old trail up into the mountains. About five miles along that road is where you’ll find Yellow Mule. It’s why the moredhel are using it. No one travels through there, and it’s easy for his kin—’ he indicated Gorath with a jerk of his chin ‘—to get there without being seen.
‘There’s an old smuggler turned farmer named Cedric Rowe now living there. He knows nothing of loyalty to anyone, or anything but gold. He rents out his barn to a Dark Brother named Nago.’
‘Nago!’ said Gorath. ‘If we take him, then we have an opportunity to escape his minions. Without him, they are blind and we can get to Krondor.’
‘Maybe,’ said Locklear. ‘But certainly, if we leave him there, the closer we get to Krondor, the easier it is for his agents to find us.’
‘Why?’ asked Owyn.
‘He’s tightening the noose, lad,’ said Isaac. ‘Less land for his men to cover.’
Locklear said, ‘Now Quegans make sense. This Rowe has probably been dealing with Quegan pirates all his life and just sent word to someone in Sarth. First ship outbound to Queg passes word and within a month he’s got as many sea-hardened bully-boys as he needs. And if Nago is throwing gold around, there are more Quegans along the roads to Krondor than a beggar has lice.’
‘And Quegans aren’t likely to run to the King’s soldiers if something goes sour; worst they do is skulk back to the nearest port and find a ship heading out. Little chance of being betrayed by someone going cold in the feet,’ added Isaac.
‘What else?’ asked Locklear.
‘Nothing,’ said Isaac. He stood up and took a cloak off the peg. ‘As soon as I pen a note to my cousin, I’m bound for Kesh. I’ve just set Nago’s assassin on my trail, but he doesn’t know it yet. Each hour I steal before he does, I stand a better chance of reaching Kesh.’
‘I said I’d do you a favour, Isaac, and I will. I’ll let you run for Kesh, for old times’ sake and for keeping up your end of the bargain, but only if you tell us everything.’
‘What makes you think there’s anything else?’
Locklear pulled his sword suddenly and had the point at Isaac’s throat. ‘Because I know you. You always hold something back, just in case you need an edge. I’m guessing this little bit of theatre is to give you a chance to be out of town before us, just in case you can find one of Nago’s agents and get him set on us before they figure out you’ve sold them out. Something like that.’
Isaac grinned. ‘Locky! Why I wouldn’t—’
Locklear pressed forward with the sword point and Isaac stopped talking so suddenly he almost swallowed his own tongue. ‘All of it,’ demanded Locklear in a menacing whisper.
Slowly Isaac raised his hand and gently pushed aside the sword point. ‘There’s a lockchest—’
‘What?’ asked Locklear.
Gorath said, ‘A chest in which to lock valuables. My people make them to transport items of importance.’
‘Go on,’ said Locklear.
‘There’s a lockchest outside of town. Go five miles down the road toward Questor’s View. To the right side of the road you’ll see a lightning-struck tree. Beyond that is a small clump of brush. Look there and you’ll see the chest. I am to leave the ruby there tonight, and when I return tomorrow, my gold is supposed to be waiting for me.’
‘So you never see your contact from Krondor?’
‘Never. That was part of Nago’s instructions to me.’
‘You’ve seen this moredhel?’ asked Locklear.
‘Met him,’ said Isaac. ‘At Yellow Mule. He’s a big one, like your friend here, not slight like some of them can be. Nasty moods and no humour. Odd fire in his eyes if you know what I mean.’
Locklear said, ‘I can imagine. What can you tell us about his company?’
‘He only keeps a couple of soldiers around him – I’ve never seen more than three at any time – because it might be noticed. And there are enough Quegans coming through there that if he needs swords he can get them in a hurry. But he’s a magic-user, Locky, a right nasty witch and if you cross him he can fry you as soon as look at you.’
Locklear glanced at Gorath who gave a slight nod of agreement to what was being said. Locklear said, ‘Very well, Isaac, here’s what you’re doing. Get something to write with.’
Isaac glanced around the room and saw an old scrap of faded leather sitting in a corner. He crossed to the small fireplace and fished out some charcoal. He said, ‘What do I write?’
‘Write this: “Ruby taken by Prince’s man. Three you seek are on the way to Eggly. I am undone and must flee.” Then sign your name.’
Isaac signed, looking pale as he put down those words. ‘This marks me, Locky.’
‘You were marked the moment you took gold to turn your hand against your king. You deserve to be hanged, and eventually you will be unless you change your ways, but it will be for another crime, not for this.’
‘Unless Nago’s agents find you first,’ added Gorath.
That was all Isaac needed. ‘What do I do with this?’
‘Put it in the chest where you are to leave the ruby, then I suggest you start running. If you don’t put that note there, and I get to Krondor, I’ll hire assassins even if they have to travel to the farthest reaches of Kesh to find you. You can cut your hair and colour it, grow a beard, and wear furs like a Brijainer, but you can’t hide that leg, Isaac. Now get out of here.’
Isaac didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his sword, his cloak and the note and hurried out the back door.
‘How could you spare that traitor?’ asked Gorath.
‘Dead he is of little use to us, and alive he may direct our foes to another path.’
