Read Online Drinker Of Blood by Lynda S. Robinson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lynda S. Robinson
Tags: Historical Mystery
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lost."
Abu loomed over the thief. "You know every crack in every wall of this city."
"I thought you would be eager to be allowed to rob a rich man without fear of arrest for once."
Tcha began to sidle away from Kysen. "O great master, gracious of heart, divine of beauty, my poor talent is of no use to one so powerful."
Abu reached out and clamped a hand around Tcha's neck. Tcha squawked but stopped trying to get away.
Kysen contemplated the scrawny shadow that was the thief. He'd contacted Tcha after his father returned from the palace this morning. The little burglar had been astonished and then greedily pleased that he was to be allowed to rob a merchant's house. He'd agreed to pilfer Dilalu's correspondence in the process. What had happened in the intervening time to put Tcha in such fear?
Kysen darted forward and whispered to Tcha. "You've found out who Dilalu is, haven't you?"
"A merchant. He's a merchant, by the blessings of Amun."
"Correct," Kysen said. "So there's nothing to fear. Bring him, Abu."
Kysen led the way through the streets of the foreign quarter. Here lived traders from the Greek islands and mainland cities, artisans and merchants from the city-states of Byblos, Tyre, Ugarit, and the great lands of the Tigris and Euphrates river valleys. They passed several noisy taverns, encountering shrinking and cloaked figures that vanished as soon as they appeared. Finally they came upon a quieter street. Its only waking inhabitant was a fat, flat-headed cat sitting beside a porter asleep in a doorway. It hissed at them and stalked away in search of a feline fight.
Kysen slithered down a passage beside the cat's house and around the back of the building. There rose a pungent and mountainous refuse heap. At the foot of an exterior staircase, Kysen halted and grabbed Tcha by the arm.
"This is the house. To your work." Tcha squirmed but Kysen tightened his grip and bent down to whisper in the thief's ear. "Listen to me, you carrion feeder. You'll do as you agreed, or I'll send you to the granite quarries."
As he'd expected, the threat of actual work, especially such taxing labor, caused Tcha to become as docile as an aged donkey. The wretch nodded, and Kysen released him.
"Remember, confine yourself to a few metal vessels or jewels."
Kysen watched the thief remove a linen bag from the recesses of his kilt. Tcha hesitated only a short time before scrambling to the staircase. Kysen signaled to Abu, and they melted into the darkness beyond the refuse pile.
Waiting in nighttime always seemed longer than waiting during the day. Kysen pressed his back against a wall and slid down to crouch beside Abu, whose gaze swung in an arc, watching for any hint of trouble. Kysen's back and legs were growing numb when Tcha's head popped over the roof coping. He rose as the thief scrambled downstairs and launched into a foot-pounding run. When his quarry darted past, Abu stuck out his foot. Tcha hit the ground with a smack, but would have jumped to his feet and kept on running if Kysen hadn't grabbed him. Releasing his captive when Abu fastened his hand around Tcha's neck, Kysen snatched the linen bag.
"Empty. Tcha, you're too miserable for the quarries. I'm sending you into the desert—"
"Lord," Abu said. "The wretch is frightened. More than usual, that is."
Kysen peered at Tcha, who was shaking as if he were on some foreign snow-topped mountain. Dropping the bag, Kysen folded his arms and spoke calmly.
"What happened?"
"Merciful Amun protect me." Tcha whimpered and seemed to melt onto the ground, where he groveled at Kysen's feet. 'Let us flee this place at once, lord. At once!"
"Not until you explain."
Constantly glancing at the house of Dilalu, Tcha said, "I went up to the roof, me. Like always. There was another sleeping porter there, but I always slide through a roof vent or a window if it's large enough. I got inside through the door this time, and then—merciful Amun." Tcha moaned and began to rock back and
Abu loomed over the thief. "You know every crack in every wall of this city."
"I thought you would be eager to be allowed to rob a rich man without fear of arrest for once."
Tcha began to sidle away from Kysen. "O great master, gracious of heart, divine of beauty, my poor talent is of no use to one so powerful."
Abu reached out and clamped a hand around Tcha's neck. Tcha squawked but stopped trying to get away.
Kysen contemplated the scrawny shadow that was the thief. He'd contacted Tcha after his father returned from the palace this morning. The little burglar had been astonished and then greedily pleased that he was to be allowed to rob a merchant's house. He'd agreed to pilfer Dilalu's correspondence in the process. What had happened in the intervening time to put Tcha in such fear?
Kysen darted forward and whispered to Tcha. "You've found out who Dilalu is, haven't you?"
"A merchant. He's a merchant, by the blessings of Amun."
"Correct," Kysen said. "So there's nothing to fear. Bring him, Abu."
Kysen led the way through the streets of the foreign quarter. Here lived traders from the Greek islands and mainland cities, artisans and merchants from the city-states of Byblos, Tyre, Ugarit, and the great lands of the Tigris and Euphrates river valleys. They passed several noisy taverns, encountering shrinking and cloaked figures that vanished as soon as they appeared. Finally they came upon a quieter street. Its only waking inhabitant was a fat, flat-headed cat sitting beside a porter asleep in a doorway. It hissed at them and stalked away in search of a feline fight.
Kysen slithered down a passage beside the cat's house and around the back of the building. There rose a pungent and mountainous refuse heap. At the foot of an exterior staircase, Kysen halted and grabbed Tcha by the arm.
"This is the house. To your work." Tcha squirmed but Kysen tightened his grip and bent down to whisper in the thief's ear. "Listen to me, you carrion feeder. You'll do as you agreed, or I'll send you to the granite quarries."
As he'd expected, the threat of actual work, especially such taxing labor, caused Tcha to become as docile as an aged donkey. The wretch nodded, and Kysen released him.
"Remember, confine yourself to a few metal vessels or jewels."
Kysen watched the thief remove a linen bag from the recesses of his kilt. Tcha hesitated only a short time before scrambling to the staircase. Kysen signaled to Abu, and they melted into the darkness beyond the refuse pile.
Waiting in nighttime always seemed longer than waiting during the day. Kysen pressed his back against a wall and slid down to crouch beside Abu, whose gaze swung in an arc, watching for any hint of trouble. Kysen's back and legs were growing numb when Tcha's head popped over the roof coping. He rose as the thief scrambled downstairs and launched into a foot-pounding run. When his quarry darted past, Abu stuck out his foot. Tcha hit the ground with a smack, but would have jumped to his feet and kept on running if Kysen hadn't grabbed him. Releasing his captive when Abu fastened his hand around Tcha's neck, Kysen snatched the linen bag.
"Empty. Tcha, you're too miserable for the quarries. I'm sending you into the desert—"
"Lord," Abu said. "The wretch is frightened. More than usual, that is."
Kysen peered at Tcha, who was shaking as if he were on some foreign snow-topped mountain. Dropping the bag, Kysen folded his arms and spoke calmly.
"What happened?"
"Merciful Amun protect me." Tcha whimpered and seemed to melt onto the ground, where he groveled at Kysen's feet. 'Let us flee this place at once, lord. At once!"
"Not until you explain."
Constantly glancing at the house of Dilalu, Tcha said, "I went up to the roof, me. Like always. There was another sleeping porter there, but I always slide through a roof vent or a window if it's large enough. I got inside through the door this time, and then—merciful Amun." Tcha moaned and began to rock back and
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