there were decent escape routes. The Phoenix Guards would come in the main door. They might have one covering the back, but that wouldn’t matter; it would take too many of them to secure all the windows, and even if they tried, the Dog-man would see it in plenty of time. If we had bad luck, and there were already guards in the place, it would be even easier, because the door would be available. Good.
It took me about a minute to learn everything I had to, but I stayed for a while because not to would have attracted attention. There were no convenient floor plants to dump the stout into, so I forced myself to drink half of it. I should have asked for more money for this job.
I left the Flagpole and headed back to my office, thinking about Cawti.
I need to tell you about the place they jumped me. Right about where Garshos connects with North Garshos there is an area where, because of some strange confusion or dispute among the lords of the city, a stretch of some sixty or seventy feet is not actually part of any district. The only effect of this is that the row of three apartment buildings there—three, three, and four stories, respectively—has no effective garbage pickup. The garbage builds up in one corner, just off Garshos, until, usually once or twice a week, they burn it. The rest of the time, it stinks. When they’re burning it, it stinks, too. Not my favorite part of town.
It was stinking pretty bad that day, because the pile was ten or eleven feet high. There were two Jhereg toughs hidden behind it. Across the street from the trash heap, there was a grocer’s with an open front; the other two Jhereg were inspecting vegetables, with their backs to me about ten feet away. For a job that had to have been done with minimal planning, it wasn’t a bad set-up.
The two of them turned around; presumably they had a lookout giving them timing, but I never saw him. I did see the first pair of Jhereg tough guys start turning toward me, and then things happened fast.
“Two behind you, Boss. I’m on ’em.”
I took a step toward them, because stepping into an attack always throws off the other guy’s timing and distance. I had time to notice that they were carrying lepips, which meant they wanted to beat me, not kill me. I would have been relieved if I’d had time.
I pulled a knife from each boot and tossed them underhanded at the two in front of me—one missed, the other poked a guy in the side; both of them flinched. I drew my blade and slashed at the nearest, ruining his pretty face, which gave me time to skewer the other in the middle of his body. He dropped his lepip and doubled over; must have gotten a good spot. I slashed at the first again, but missed when he fell backward.
I took the opportunity to turn around, which was just as well; one of them had gotten past Loiosh and was coming at me. I didn’t like the idea of his heavy lepip against my little rapier, so I pulled three shuriken from inside my cloak and sent them in his direction. One shuriken scratched his forehead, one missed, and the last almost clipped Loiosh’s wing where he was tagging around the other one’s head.
“Boss.…”
“Sorry.”
The scratch on the forehead was enough to disorient the guy a little. It got worse for him when I raised my rapier like I was going to bring it down on his head, and even worse when I let a dagger fall into my left hand and then put it into his stomach. He indicated that he was no longer interested in the contest, though he didn’t say it in so many words.
I turned toward the one who’d fallen over. He was just starting to get up. I raised my weapon and said, “Don’t.” He looked at me, then relaxed again. That left the one Loiosh was dancing with. I turned my attention to that one, but he was running away as fast as he could.
I took a couple of steps forward and stood over the one lying on his back. I don’t think I’d have known him even if his face weren’t bleeding, not to mention
It took me about a minute to learn everything I had to, but I stayed for a while because not to would have attracted attention. There were no convenient floor plants to dump the stout into, so I forced myself to drink half of it. I should have asked for more money for this job.
I left the Flagpole and headed back to my office, thinking about Cawti.
I need to tell you about the place they jumped me. Right about where Garshos connects with North Garshos there is an area where, because of some strange confusion or dispute among the lords of the city, a stretch of some sixty or seventy feet is not actually part of any district. The only effect of this is that the row of three apartment buildings there—three, three, and four stories, respectively—has no effective garbage pickup. The garbage builds up in one corner, just off Garshos, until, usually once or twice a week, they burn it. The rest of the time, it stinks. When they’re burning it, it stinks, too. Not my favorite part of town.
It was stinking pretty bad that day, because the pile was ten or eleven feet high. There were two Jhereg toughs hidden behind it. Across the street from the trash heap, there was a grocer’s with an open front; the other two Jhereg were inspecting vegetables, with their backs to me about ten feet away. For a job that had to have been done with minimal planning, it wasn’t a bad set-up.
The two of them turned around; presumably they had a lookout giving them timing, but I never saw him. I did see the first pair of Jhereg tough guys start turning toward me, and then things happened fast.
“Two behind you, Boss. I’m on ’em.”
I took a step toward them, because stepping into an attack always throws off the other guy’s timing and distance. I had time to notice that they were carrying lepips, which meant they wanted to beat me, not kill me. I would have been relieved if I’d had time.
I pulled a knife from each boot and tossed them underhanded at the two in front of me—one missed, the other poked a guy in the side; both of them flinched. I drew my blade and slashed at the nearest, ruining his pretty face, which gave me time to skewer the other in the middle of his body. He dropped his lepip and doubled over; must have gotten a good spot. I slashed at the first again, but missed when he fell backward.
I took the opportunity to turn around, which was just as well; one of them had gotten past Loiosh and was coming at me. I didn’t like the idea of his heavy lepip against my little rapier, so I pulled three shuriken from inside my cloak and sent them in his direction. One shuriken scratched his forehead, one missed, and the last almost clipped Loiosh’s wing where he was tagging around the other one’s head.
“Boss.…”
“Sorry.”
The scratch on the forehead was enough to disorient the guy a little. It got worse for him when I raised my rapier like I was going to bring it down on his head, and even worse when I let a dagger fall into my left hand and then put it into his stomach. He indicated that he was no longer interested in the contest, though he didn’t say it in so many words.
I turned toward the one who’d fallen over. He was just starting to get up. I raised my weapon and said, “Don’t.” He looked at me, then relaxed again. That left the one Loiosh was dancing with. I turned my attention to that one, but he was running away as fast as he could.
I took a couple of steps forward and stood over the one lying on his back. I don’t think I’d have known him even if his face weren’t bleeding, not to mention
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