“To save his ass,” Oscar muttered.
Annie grinned and reached over to pinch Oscar’s cheek. “Not quite as fine as young Finn’s ass over here, but yours will do.”
“You’re old enough to be my mother,” Finn said.
She grinned. “That don’t mean I don’t have my charms.” She leaned forward, and her grin widened. “Besides, it doesn’t seem to me you mind all that much. You look just as much as the older boys.”
The door to the tavern came open, and Rock strode in. He was a good head taller than Finn, all muscle, and had his dark gray cloak slung over his shoulders, probably to cover the pair of knives he kept on him. Not that he needed anything other than his fists. He slipped into the seat across from Finn and grunted.
“What are you all going on about?”
“Annie was telling me about how her girls don’t like you much,” Finn said.
“That’s not what they were telling me last night,” Rock said, grinning at Finn.
“Which ones?” Annie asked as she sat upright.
“I don’t keep track of names.”
“Because you can’t think fast enough to make them up,” Finn said, laughing. “Gods, Rock, if you’re going to pick on Annie like that, you’ve got to pay attention to her girls.”
“Can’t all be like you,” he said, laughing mostly to himself.
Annie leaned back, looking over at Oscar. “What were you doing that drew the notice of the Archers? I thought you were one of the most skilled thieves in Verendal.”
“Might be the most skilled now that Pegg caught the rope,” Finn said.
“Pegg?” Oscar asked.
Finn nodded. “That’s who they held the festival for today. Saw him when I wandered out past the Teller Gate.”
“I saw him too,” Rock said. “Had to keep an eye on Shuffles.”
Finn made a fist, and Rock laughed again.
“You went all the way to the Stone?” Oscar asked.
There was a hint of something more in the question. Irritation? Disappointment?
“The crowd pushed, and I wanted to see what Pegg might do. Hanged him.”
“Figures,” Annie muttered. “Can’t even give a man with a reputation like that a clean death.”
“No death is clean,” Rock said.
“Some are better than others,” Annie said. “I’d rather have the sword to my neck than the rope. At least with the sword, you don’t have time to think about your dying.” She ran a finger along her neck. “Take it clean if you’re going to take it at all.”
“No one’s taking your head, Annie,” a deep voice said.
Finn looked up to see the King standing behind her. He rested one hand on her back and leaned in, breathing in her ear as he whispered something softly to her that made her smile.
“Can’t be so sure of that, Leon. Word gets out about the kind of business you have here, and you never know what the court decides.”
The King shook his head as he took a seat, forcing Finn to move along the bench. Though even older than Oscar and with flowing silver hair, there remained something robust about him—and intimidating. He wasn’t as muscular as Rock, but he wasn’t as whip-thin as Oscar, either. “The court isn’t going to shut your business down. It would take too much work. Besides, most of them up there”—he made a motion with his head as if to indicate the center of the city—“or over in the churches spend more than their share of time in places like this tavern.”
“Not quite like this.” Annie tugged on her blouse, shifting it to make her cleavage even more pronounced. “Were we to get men like that down here, we wouldn’t run into trouble like we do.”
“What kind of trouble?” Oscar asked. The question seemed directed at Annie, but he looked at the King when he said it.
“The kind of trouble the crew don’t need to worry about. I take care of everything so the rest of you don’t have to,” the King said. He turned to Annie. “How about you fetch some ales for the table?”
“Why don’t you go off and fetch them yourself?”
“Annie…”
“Leon…”
She was the only person Finn had ever heard call the King by his first name. Within the crew, most of them had their nicknames. Since he’d joined, he’d been given the name Shuffles by the King. Finn wanted something stronger. Rock or the Hand or the King all had stronger connotations. Then there was Wolf. He didn’t even need a nickname as it was his surname. He wanted something that meant he had skill, but a man didn’t get to choose his nickname.
“Give us a moment. I need to talk to my boys.”
“Boys? The Hand here is almost as old as you, and young Finn is damn near twenty. The way he leers at my girls tells me he’s far more man than boy. And look at Rock. That’s a man if I ever saw one.” She winked and leaned toward Rock, resting a hand on his arm.
The King shot her a look dripping with annoyance, but it was a measure of the relationship he shared with Annie that he didn’t force her to leave. She was the only one Finn had seen who managed to push the King that way—and who the King didn’t push back against.
“I’ll see what I can get for these boys. You’ll have to fend for yourself, Leon.” She pulled herself from behind the table at the booth and patted Oscar on the cheek, holding her gaze on the King while she did it.
Oscar breathed out with a hint of amusement, though it didn’t show on his face. Finn had been around him enough to recognize the sound, though. Usually, it came at his expense. It was better that it come at the King’s.
Annie sauntered off toward the kitchen, leaving them alone. The King watched her go for a moment before turning his attention back to Finn and Oscar.
“What happened today?” There was a tension in his voice that hadn’t been there even when talking to Annie. “Tell me you got it.”
“I got it,” Oscar said.
“Rock informs me there was an Archer?”
Finn looked over to Rock. Other than Oscar, Finn was closest to Rock. When had he talked to the King?
“There’s always an Archer, King. You know that. It’s not like we were out past the damned curfew, so they wouldn’t have any reason to pinch us,” Oscar said, leaning back and taking a drink from his mug of ale.
“The curfew is a problem.” He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, setting it on the table. Finn realized it was a notice of curfew. It was unusual for the Archers to enforce anything like that. “Can’t say I care much for this.”
Oscar looked over the top of the mug, glancing briefly at Finn, the corners of his eyes narrowing as if warning him. “We did what we always do. That’s why we have scouts.”
“Don’t usually need them,” the King said.
“Not usually, but this time we did. On a day like today, it was a damn good thing, too. If those Archers keep up the curfew, then we’ll need them even more.” Oscar took another drink, setting it down on the table. “Did you know it was Pegg?”
The King’s face darkened for a moment, but then a shadow appeared over the table as Annie returned with mugs of ale, setting one down in front of each of them. When she got to Oscar, she noted his mug and how he kept his hands wrapped around it and shrugged, pulling the last one back for herself.