I halted, out of breath and panting. Calm, I counseled myself. Calm. I had no way of knowing what was going on with Civil. I would stay with my original idea, and search for Laudwine. In that process, I suspected I might discover where Civil had gone.
My first stop in Buckkeep was the weekly market. I bought a red scarf and a serviceable belt knife, and all the while I made casual inquiries as to where I might get fresh goat flesh for a Jamaillian dish my master suddenly desired. I received a number of suggestions, but most were for goatherds who lived in the hills behind Buckkeep. There were only two suggested who lived in Buckkeep Town, and only one of them was near Smithy Row.
The short wintry day was ending as I headed toward Smithy Row. The fading of the light was fine with me. The recommended goatkeeper kept only a few beasts, more for milk than for flesh. I located his home as much from the smell as from my directions. In the dusk, I moved quietly closer to it. Through a window, I glimpsed a family with three young children settling in for the evening. In the shed behind their house were a dozen goats. Cheeses were stored in the rafters. The most nefarious creature around was a sullen old billy with evil yellow eyes. I left as quietly as I had come, wondering if I had tricked myself. Perhaps the sounds I had heard when I Skill-shared memories with Thick had nothing to do with where Laudwine was now. Perhaps it had been a temporary meeting place, not where the Piebald leader stayed.
I ghosted three more cottages nearby, discovering only families retiring for the night. Between a neglected shed and the next cottage, I discovered Civil’s horse. He was tethered there, saddled still and steaming. Had he been put between the house and the shed to be less obvious? I stood very still. If I were approaching Laudwine’s hiding place, then there were certainly Witted on watch, beasts as well as men. It was possible they were already aware of me. That thought broke a sweat on my back. In the next instant, I knew there was nothing I could do about it. I drifted closer, trying to muffle my tread in the unpacked snow between the buildings.
As I crouched there, I heard a horse approach in the street. There are few riding horses in Buckkeep Town. The steep, cobbled streets are unsuited to them, and they are expensive to keep in a town where they are virtually useless. This was a large and heavy beast by the sound of him. There at the front of the cottage, the sounds of his hoofbeats stilled. Almost immediately, I heard the door open. Someone heavy came out onto the porch and greeted the rider with “It’s not my fault. I don’t know why he came here and he won’t say anything to me. Says he’ll only speak to you.” I knew the voice from Thick’s Skill memory. This was the first man he had been taken to see.
“I’ll take care of it, Padget.” Laudwine’s voice. His tone cut off the man’s attempt at explanation. I heard him dismount. I crouched down behind Civil’s horse. “Hammer, go with him,” Laudwine told the horse and I saw a passing shadow as a stout man led his chief’s Wit-beast past the alley mouth and toward the ramshackle shed. At a glance, I recalled him. I had first seen him riding at Laudwine’s stirrup. Laudwine entered the cottage, shutting the door heavily behind him. A few moments later, Padget returned from tending the horse and followed him in.
The house was well constructed, the gaps in the walls well chinked, and the windows tightly shuttered against night’s chill. I could not see in, but the sound of raised voices leaked out to me. I could not make out the words. I crouched in the deep shadows between the buildings and pressed my ear tightly to the wall. I listened.
“Why were you so stupid as to come here? You were told never to come to me, never to seek any contact at all.” Laudwine’s voice was deep with anger.
“I came to tell you that our agreement is over.” I thought I recognized Civil’s voice, but it was shrill with fear.
“Do you think so?” This was Laudwine again, and the hair stood up on the back of my neck at the threat in his tone.
Civil made a low-voiced reply. He must have been defiant, for Laudwine laughed and said, “Well, you think wrong. I will tell you when our agreement is over. And when our agreement is over, it will be because you have ceased to be useful to me. And you will know when you have ceased to be useful to me, because you will cease to be alive. Do you take my hint, Civil Bresinga? Be useful, boy. For your mother’s sake, if not for your own. What tidbits do you have for me?”
“For my mother’s sake, I have nothing for you. Nor ever will again.” Civil’s voice shook with both fear and determination.
Laudwine was a direct man, as I well recalled. He seemed to have learned to use his left hand well. I heard Civil’s body hit the wall. Then he asked, pleasantly, “And why is that, boy?”
