Above His Proper Station by Lawrence Watt-Evans Read Free Book Online

definite interest in himself and his coat, and would undoubtedly corner him there. There were no other guests to make common cause with him in defense against such predators.
    He could find another inn—but perhaps not at this hour, in the snow, in Catseye. And if he went wandering about the streets, what would stop these people from following him and waylaying him at the first opportunity?
    He could find a watchman and ask for protection—but he was a wanted criminal himself, out well past curfew. The thieves had no way of knowing he was a fugitive, but they did know about the curfew, and that he had a secret of some sort. They probably guessed that his secret, whatever it might be, would make him reluctant to invite official involvement. The curfew ensured that anything he did or said would be met with official suspicion.
    â€œThat coat is velvet,” said the man with the knife. “It was a fine garment when it was new, but it’s far from new. Handed down to you, perhaps? You had four guilders in your pockets, yet you were staying at the Elbow—”
    â€œHe had no baggage,” the boy who had originally taken the coat interrupted. “Not so much as a purse.”
    The knife man continued, “And you have no baggage. You say you have secrets worth your life. If I were to venture a guess, my friend, I would say you are most likely a servant who stole from his employer, was caught in the act, and fled. What’s in the coat, then? The family silver, perhaps?”
    â€œI did not rob my employer,” Anrel said, both annoyed and amused by the accusation.
    â€œStill, I cannot think of any reason for an honest man with four guilders in his pocket to stay at the Emperor’s Elbow. I believe you went there to hide. No one would think to look for you there.”
    Anrel did not reply to that.
    â€œKill him and take the coat so we can all get some sleep,” a new voice called from the darkness.
    â€œHear that, friend?” the knife man said. “I am not so bloodthirsty as some of my neighbors, but I am not especially squeamish, either, and I am running out of patience.”
    â€œThen get on with it,” Anrel snapped. “Try to kill me, and I will defend myself, and we will see what happens.” He stretched his hand down and began to stoop slightly, preparing to grab his father’s dagger.
    â€œI would prefer to avoid that,” the knife man said. “Let us see if we cannot arrive at an agreeable alternative.”
    â€œLet me go,” Anrel said. “And don’t follow me. That will be the end of it.”
    â€œNo,” the man said judiciously. “No, I do not think that would suit us. Now there are at least half a dozen of us awake and involved, and while that four guilders divided six ways will be greatly appreciated, I still have hopes for better. You have aroused both my curiosity and my cupidity. I think you came to the Elbow to hide—do you deny it?”
    Anrel became aware of a faint rustling; people were moving in the surrounding gloom, people he could not see. He heard whispering, as well, a sound he had previously taken for the hiss of falling snow but now recognized as quiet conversation. He was not sure what was being said, or what these people were doing, but he doubted it bode well. “I deny nothing,” he said. “Neither do I confirm it.”
    â€œLet us assume that you were, in fact, seeking a sanctuary. Has it occurred to you that we who live in the Pensioners’ Quarter do so because it is our sanctuary?”
    Startled, Anrel turned, trying to make out the other’s face through the gloom. “What does that have to do with me?” he asked.
    â€œYou are a brave and levelheaded fellow,” the thief said. “You have not blustered and threatened, you did not run pell-mell, you did not protest when my compatriot emptied your pocket. I think I might find a use for you, should you choose