'But they have personal guards, Edeard said.
'No they don't, Dinlay said. 'Oh, the patriarch will have some toughs with him when he collects large payments from clients, or pays a ship's captain, but we're not talking about the kind of small army which the Grand Families employ here. These merchants have large families who are completely unprotected, and they're a vital part of Makkathran's economy.
'I see, Edeard said. He had hoped for a brief respite after Ingot back, but he should have known better. 'So we need to identify who—
'No we don't, Dinlay said merrily.
'We don't?
'Already done it.
'Ah. Now a lot of the squad's attitude became clearer to
Edeard. He looked round, seeing their smug faces. 'So what do you need me for?
'To provide us with brute strength back-up during the arrest, Macsen said with an innocent tone.
Edeard laughed. 'Tell me.
'First the bad news, Boyd said. 'The House of Blue Petals has a new owner.
'Who? Edeard asked sharply.
Boyd gave Dinlay a sly glance, as if seeking approval. 'Buate.
'Never heard of him.
'Nobody had, Boyd said. 'Turns out he's Ivarl's half-brother.
'Oh great.
'Would you like the bad news now? Macsen asked.
Edeard gave him a brusque stare.
'Rumour has it that Buate has a partner.
'Go on.
'Ranalee.
Edeard dropped his face into his hands, and chuckled softly. I should have seen that coming, especially after Tannarl teamed up with Ivarl that night.
'Edeard? Kanseen queried.
'Actually, that's good news, he told them.
'It is?
'We finally have a link between the gangs and a Grand Family. Can we prove she's the partner?
'The Occupancy Deed is filed at the city Registry, Dinlay said, taking off his glasses to give them a polish. 'It's considered privileged unless a crime has been committed either on the premises or by the owner. We could lodge a request in the lower court to view it. But all it tells us is who's claimed residence rights to the structure, and as we know Buate is family it won't tell us anything new. And the articles of corporation governing the Blue Petal's business will be held by the Guild of Tax Clerks. However, the nature of the business means the arrangement with Ranalee isn't likely to be written down anywhere.
'So it's just hearsay?
Dinlay shrugged. 'Yes.
'And this is what you managed to discover while I was away?
'As my soon-to-be-father says, everyone's a critic, Macsen said with mock dismay. 'No, actually, we have been doing difficult observation work under dangerous conditions for little pay and scant thanks from our corporal and station captain.
'For the love of the Lady, will you tell me what is going on?
'We followed several gang members who are covered by exclusion warrants — with good reason. One of them was a member of an enforcer crew, Dinlay said, grinning broadly. 'They've just told a merchant called Charyau in Neph that they want a third of his business. He imports salsponge.
'What the heck is salsponge? Edeard demanded. 'And I swear on the Lady if just one of you gives me that pitying look over this I will dump the lot of you headfirst in Birmingham Pool and hold you under.
Boyd opened his mouth ready to explain. A frown creased his forehead, and he turned to Macsen. Macsen pursed his lips and gave Kanseen inquisitive stare.
'Well don't ask me, she said. 'I've never heard of it before.
'It must be valuable, Dinlay mused. 'Charyau has a big family, who dress in fine clothes and carouse all over the city; and there's also two mistresses he covers in jewellery.
'Did he agree to their terms? Edeard asked.
'No, Boyd said. 'The Lady blessed him with a backbone and a lot of pompous bluster. He refused.
'So we followed the enforcer crew home to Sampalok.
'You went into Sampalok? Edeard asked in surprise.
'Like I said: difficult and dangerous, Macsen announced portentously. 'Which is why we know that they're going to kick the crap out of Rapsail, Charyau's firstborn, as the first warning. And they're going to do it tonight.
'Where? Edeard asked eagerly.
Riorn Street was a sinuous pathway on the northernmost corner of Abad, linking the Roseway Canal to the Great Major Canal. The buildings which made up its walls were all tall and imposing, though one of them did incline outwards, allowing broad strands of unkempt gurkvine to dangle down from the eves like a living partition along the street. It was the building next to the overhanging vegetation which housed the Reckless Colonel, a restaurant and theatre of good repute, where the wealthier sons of the city's gentlemen congregated for a pleasurable night among their own.
Good, expensive food was to be found on the starched white linen cloths of its hexagonal tables; the cellar was stocked with an enviable selection of vintage wines from across Querencia. The lounge area offered deep and cosy chairs and settees, while the dancers who graced the stage performed their elegant moves with amazing agility to the pitch-perfect house band. Five large doormen stood outside the glossy wooden doors, physically and telekinetically strong, their presence alone enough to deter anyone foolish enough to be born beneath a certain status in life.
It was after two o'clock in the morning when one of them tipped his tall peaked hat to Rapsail who tottered unsteadily down the three awkward steps to the pavement. A heavy rain was lashing the street, dimming the orange lights shining down from the building walls. Rapsail tightened his leather cloak around his long blue and scarlet jacket as he grunted his inebriated 'goodnight' to the doormen, and began to weave an unsteady route towards the Great Major Canal.
Alcohol suppressed his farsight as much as it did his optical focus. He had no awareness of the five men lurking in the deeper shadows and alleys off Riorn Street. Nor did he notice as they emerged from their secluded refuges to walk both behind and alongside him. It was only as they started to close in that he frowned with intoxicated confusion.
'I say, hello you fellows, he slurred.
A third hand closed around his ankles. For a moment his legs moved sluggishly, then he peered down at his immobile feet. Rapsail blinked down at his polished leather shoes with their fashionable brass and silver buckles. They didn't seem to be doing what he wanted, which was to get him far far away from this place.
'I say, that's off.
One of his assailants laughed. They circled him now, dark spectres with hoods pulled over their heads, faces shadowed and wreathed with a seclusion haze. Rain pattered heavily on their oilskin cloaks to form quick rivulets over the fabric.
'What do you want? Rapsail's instinctive self-preservation was starting to get through his alcohol-saturated brain. He tried to longshout, but that required too much concentration.
A hand tugged his hood away from his head.
'I warn you, I have friends in this city. Powerful friends.
'This is a message for your father, Medath, the enforcer crew's leader said.
'What message? Rapsail asked as the rain slicked down his hair.
'He'll understand.
A fist slammed into Rapsail's podgy stomach. The young man doubled up immediately, falling to his knees. Tears of pain mingled with the rain on his cheeks. 'Oh sweet Lady, no. I have money. Please.
'It's not your cash we want, Medath explained patiently. 'It's your inheritance.
Two of the men pulled leather-weighted coshes from under their cloaks, while two more used their third hands to pinion Rapsail in his cowed position.
'After all, Medath said reasonably. 'You won't be needing it. Cripples don't have anything to spend it on.
Rapsail whimpered piteously.
'Damage him, Medath ordered. 'Badly.
Two coshes were raised into the air, slick with water. They kept on rising, pulled out of grasping fingers to whirl away into the night. Both men grunted in surprise. Medath fell into a crouch, long blades sliding into his hands. He scanned round with his farsight, probing every doorway and alcove along the street as his telekinetic shield hardened. One of the other enforcers aimed a kick at Rapsail's head. His boot was yanked backwards, sending him crashing down. There was a sickening slap as his face smacked flat on to the pavement. He yelled, 'Help me, through the blood pouring out of his mouth and nose. Then froze in terror as he was tugged violently across the pavement. He slid away from his comrades at frightening speed, hands scrabbling at the wet surface to no effect. His shrieks were cut off as he vanished round the corner.