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of the Easterners hitting a Southwoodsman brought back an anger he thought long buried.
    This was the first steady job he’d found in five years, but he wasn’t going to watch Lord Hirkin beat a boy to death in order to keep it. With a silent apology to his wife, he turned and slipped out the door at a moment when the other’s attention was focused on the little thief.
    Once in the silent street, Talbot headed for the nearest thoroughfare at a brisk trot with the vague idea of finding a few other of the Southwoodsman guards. Hirkin’s control wasn’t as strong with them, and he knew of several who wouldn’t mind a chance to kill a few Cybellians, be they guardsmen or nobles.
    He toyed briefly with the idea of sending a message to the Shark, but dismissed it. The Shark generally avoided direct contact with the guardsmen; he would avenge the lad’s death, but Talbot hoped to save it instead. Vengeance wasn’t worth losing a steady job.
    The nearest busy street was several blocks away. At this time of the night there were fewer people, but Purgatory was never quiet. Once on the busier thoroughfare, Talbot caught his breath and looked around for any of the guardsmen that he knew, but the only one he saw was Cybellian. He swore softly under his breath.
    â€œTrouble?” asked a nearby voice in Southern.
    Talbot whirled and found himself face to face with a war stallion. Prudently he backed out of range of the horse’s eager teeth, and tipped his head back to meet the eyes of a man who, by his dress, could only be the Reeve of Southwood.
    â€œYes, sir.” His voice was steady. He had been a hand on the ship that sailed under the old King’s son. He was used to people of high rank, and the Whisper had it that Lord Kerim wasn’t as high in the mouth as most of hisbreed. He’d even heard that the Reeve concerned himself with all of the people of Southwood, Easterners and natives alike.
    For the first time Talbot felt some hope that he’d get through this night with his job intact. “If ye have a minute, messire, there’s a crime that ye might be interested in.”
    â€œIndeed?” Lord Kerim sat back on his horse and waited for the other man to continue.
    Talbot cleared his throat and took a chance. “There’s been a murder, sir. When we came upon the body, there was a boy there with it. Normal procedure, sir, would be having us take him in for questioning and trial. But Lord Hirkin showed up an’ is proceeding with the questioning. I don’t think he intends to hold the lad for trial, if you get my meaning.”
    Kerim looked at him a moment before saying softly, “Lead on then, man, and I’ll take care of it.”
    With Kerim at his back, Talbot made good speed back to the little cottage. At the entrance, Kerim kicked his feet free of the stirrups and swung one leg forward over the saddle before sliding off his horse. Dropping the reins on the ground to keep the stallion in place, he followed Talbot to the open doorway.
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    â€œI F YOU ’ RE A good boy, there will be no need to meet the headsman just yet,” purred Lord Hirkin.
    He had begun alternating his threats with outright bribery. Sham wasn’t sure why he was hunting the Shark, but it must be a matter of great importance to cause the urgency that he was demonstrating.
    â€œI’d rather meet him than you,” she returned somewhat thickly from her abused lips. “At least he’ll smell of honest work. That’s better than what you’ll smell like when the Shark gets through with you. He doesn’t like people who poke around in his business—they usually end up feeding his brothers in the sea.”
    Peripherally she was aware that someone had entered the room from the outside, but she assumed that it was only more guards.
    This time the blow bloodied her nose. Eyes watering from the pain, Shamera knew that she needed to find a way to