I breathed more freely the further I got from them all. Working at someone else's orders still felt oppressive, and it was good to feel at least the illusion of freedom once again. The faintest suggestion of hopping on a ship hovered around the back of my mind, but by now the challenge of the theft was just too enticing. This was going to be the most difficult job I'd ever tackled on my own, and I stifled a sharp regret for Halice, Sorgrad, Sorgren and Charoleia. If I had them to work with, I'd be in and out with half the lady's wealth and she wouldn't even know it. No point cursing over a rotten egg.
I strolled through the town, keeping a careful eye open to avoid anything that might get me noticed. The invisible woman, that's what I wanted to be. Now there was an interesting idea; now I was working with a wizard, I could have all sorts of advantages not open to the ordinary wall-crawler. I would have to ask Shiv more about that.
I was looking for some part of this city less obviously under guild control; in most coast towns it would have been the docks, but with trade the reason for Inglis' existence, that seemed to be the most tightly controlled area of all. I wandered apparently aimlessly, a trader newly arrived, seeing the sights. It was certainly an interesting place; metalsmiths of various sorts each had their own quarter, copper, silver, gold. Close by were gem-buyers, cutters, jewellers and craftsmen. Furriers and tanners worked together, their workshops well downwind of the clothiers and tailors whose warehouses formed most of the central district, interwoven with all the other trades of a major town. There were fruit-sellers, butchers, potters, carpenters, and all were doing brisk trade. Their customers ranged from harassed mothers in plain smocks towing reluctant children, to elegant ladies in flowing silks fawned on by obsequious merchants. Pedlars with trays of trinkets and food wove among the crowds.
I had more trouble spotting the pickpockets and cut-purses. I thought I saw one; I didn't catch him make the lift itself, but he started moving away from his victim faster than the general pace of the crowd. As his face turned towards me, I saw the expression of a rat in a bear-pit; not what the dogs are after but something they'll kill all the same. I scanned the square covertly for the hounds and saw several lightly armoured men circulating round the shops and stalls. Something else struck me. You'll find a Rationalist or two in most places these days, arguing that worshipping the gods is pointless in the modern age. Not in Inglis, it seemed; now was that policy, or just a sign that new ideas had trouble travelling this far?
I kept moving and finally found the horse fair. This was more promising; festival garlands of fruit and flowers still hung on some doors and lay in the gutters. If these people weren't so conscientious about their street-cleaning duties, they might have a more relaxed attitude to other things. I saw a priest actually handing out alms of bread and meat here too; his shrine was as unusually well kept as all the others I had passed but he was the first religious I'd seen in Inglis without a collecting box. There were a few inns across the broad dusty expanse of the sale meadow. The Rising Sun was obviously a brothel and the Cross Swords could only be a drinking den and nothing more. The Eagle promised better and I wasn't disappointed. There was plenty of merriment but no obvious drunks and a lively game of runes was being played to one side. I left them to it; no one wants to chat and gamble. There were tables with White Raven boards by the window and I looked for a vacant seat; I like playing Raven but neither Darni or Geris knew how. Shiv did, but after a few games I could tell he was not really keen, which makes sense when you think about it.
There was an empty seat across from a tall, wiry man with the dark curly hair and olive skin you see most often in southern Tormalin. He sat, seemingly relaxed over a goblet of wine, not a care in the world. I knew better; I could see the alertness in his eyes as he scanned the horse traders and every passing stranger.
He was wearing a business-like sword and sitting half-turned so that nothing would get in his way if he needed it in a hurry. Alert but not predatory, he struck me as interesting.
'Are you looking for a game?' I gestured at the board.
'I'll oblige you if you want to play.' He straightened up and beckoned to the potman.
'Do you want to play the White Raven or the Wood Fowl?' I began sorting the well-worn pieces.
'Whichever. Wine?'
I nodded and began placing the trees and bushes on the board. Let's see how good he was.
'Interesting,' he murmured and I sat back to sip an excellent Califerian red as he selected which birds to set out in the open.
'Just arrived in Inglis?' He did not look up as he set out apple-thrushes and pied crows, a polite man just making polite conversation.
'This morning.' Why should I lie when there was no need?
'Downriver?'
I shook my head and leaned forward to study his layout before placing the raven on the board. It was deceptive in its simplicity and he'd kept back corbies and owls for the next play; this might be one white raven that did get driven out of the forest if I was not careful.
'Are you in from Tormalin then? What's the news?'
Now why did he want to know where I was from? 'No, I came along the south road through Dalasor. I'm up from Ensaimin. How about you?'
'I came up the coast from 'Formalin; I'm running some errands for a few people. I've been here ten days. Perhaps I can help you out, tell you where to find a good inn, the better merchants.'
'That could be useful.' We understood each other nicely.
We played a few rounds and I forced his songbirds off the western edge of the board before he used the hawks to drive me back.
'It's a long trip from Ensaimin,' my new friend observed, refilling my goblet. 'What brings you here?'
'Looking for new opportunities, the usual.'
'It's not a town that welcomes individual enterprise, if you get my meaning.' He glanced up from the board and I could see his friendly warning was sincere.
'It looks very well organised to me,' I observed as if agreeing. 'I hear the guilds run all the services, the Watch and so on.'
'That's right and they do it very well. The Watchmen aren't the usual bunch of losers with a mate on the town council; the guilds hire out of Lescar each winter when the fighting slows down. They're well paid and well trained; there's plenty of money moving round Inglis and the guilds are very keen that everyone knows it's safe.'
'Do they patrol regularly? How good are they at following up on trouble? Suppose I got my room rifled, for example?'
'They patrol everywhere, dawn to dawn. What trouble they don't catch, they hunt down, and I'm pleased to hear they can't be bought off either. They have wizards working with them too.'
'A pretty thorough lot by the look of the gibbets. Does everyone get hanged, or do they have a lock-up as well?'
'There's a keep where they dump drunks and so on.'
'Nice to know the streets will be safe to walk at night.' We both sounded thoroughly pleased with the situation. I betrayed myself with a clumsy move and nearly fell to a hidden group of owls.
'I've not seen many Forest Folk this far east.' He drank his wine and sat back as I studied the board; things were looking increasingly complicated.
'Oh, we get about.'
'It must be a bit of a nuisance, everyone able to pick you out by that copper-top of yours.'
I grinned despite myself. 'Oh, it's surprising what you can do with herbal washes. I can be as black and curly as you if I need to be.'
He smiled back appreciatively. 'I bet you'd look good in it too. The best I can do is shave my head and grow a beard.'
That made for an interesting picture. 'Had to do that often?'
'Now and again. I'm always interested in new opportunities, like yourself.'