“We need some time to talk,” the King said.
“You can talk around me like you always do. You don’t always get to hear who the Poor Bastard is before they get dragged along the Blood Court with these sorts of things. Heard about Pegg, though.”
It was always Poor Bastard, and never poor bastard. A title. The church had a different title for them—the Repentant—though Finn doubted many of them were too repentant by the time they were dragged to the gallows. Seeing Pegg today, he felt sure he wasn’t.
“Something like Pegg is why we don’t want the attention of the Archers,” the King said.
“Not palace Archers, anyway,” Oscar said.
The King set his mug down and stared at Oscar. “Palace Archers?”
“We passed one. Single stripe. Far too curious to be a city Archer.”
“I can handle city Archers,” the King said confidently. “You just have to pay them better than the crown, and they’ll do whatever you need. Palace Archers are a different breed. Wolves compared to dogs.”
“More like wolves compared to pups,” Annie said. She rested her hands on the table and leaned forward. “It was a palace Archer that caught Pegg. Way I heard it, he took a job up there that got him squeezed. Stupid to think you could break into… What is it?” She looked over at the King.
“Nothing.”
“I see that look in your eyes, Leon Konig. Don’t think I don’t recognize it.”
“I said it was nothing.”
She glared at him before shaking her head. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear what this old working girl has to say. The King sure don’t.” She said his nickname with a sneer that made it sound almost like a swear. “Not like I hear all the gossip that comes through here. Not at all. Certainly don’t hear more than the King. I didn’t hear anything about Dalton Pegg thinking he’d break into the palace on a job and get squeezed by the Archers. I’ll tell you what kind of fool does that.” She shot the King a look. “Someone after more than coin. You go there, you take what the gods give you. Even Pegg had limits.”
“Who would want him to break into the palace?” Oscar asked.
“If you take something like the crown jewels there…” Rock started.
Finn shared a look with Rock.
Other than Oscar, he was the only one who knew of Finn’s mother.
That kind of money would more than pay for his mother getting the help she needed. They could get her a physician. Not just an apothecary. They could get her real help.
“You can’t move something like that,” Oscar said. “They’re too distinctive. You might have the wealth, but what’s wealth if you can’t unload it?”
Leave it to Oscar to be practical about things like that.
“There’d be a way to break it down. You get jewels like that, I’m sure you can find a buyer. You just have to go to the right person.” Finn looked over at the King. “Right? I’m sure you’ve got someone who could break down the jewels. Gold is gold. The gods know you could melt that down, mold it into something else. The jewels probably pop right off, and you can—”
“Pop off?” Oscar asked. “What sort of trinkets do you think the crown keeps here?”
“I don’t know. No one does.” Finn took a drink of ale and leaned back, welcoming the warmth as it rolled down his throat. It left him with a pleasant sensation in his belly. Better than most anything. “I’d like to have a look, though.”
“I’ll look with you,” Rock said, grinning.
“You wouldn’t. If a man like Dalton Pegg can’t get into the palace and get away, there ain’t anyone who can do it.”
“Right. The Hand couldn’t manage to break in?” Finn looked from the King to Annie before grinning at Oscar. “You don’t want to take the credit that you’re due.”
“I take everything I’m due. I also know my limits. Just like I know a job like that not only can’t be done, but Pegg must’ve been a fool to take it on. Like I said. No way to move it. Who wants to risk trying to sell it and drawing the attention of the Archers?”
“Unless he had a buyer,” the King added softly.
“Could be,” Oscar said, scratching his jawline. “I’ve heard the Mistress has been active.”
The King shook his head as his brow darkened. “Don’t talk about her. You never know when one of her people are listening. Besides,” he said, his expression shifting, now smiling again, “we both know a job is only as good as a buyer. A job like that would require that someone have a way of moving it before you decide to take it. It’s too dangerous otherwise.”
“Some claim the hegen pushed him to take the job,” Annie said.
The King almost spit out his drink while laughing. “The hegen? No magic is worth dying for. This was about coin, plain and simple.”
“Maybe it was good magic,” Rock said in between drinks. “You know, like the kind the Alainsith have in the forest outside the city.”
“There’s a difference between dangerous and good,” the King said. “And the hegen can’t give any man enough magic to make it worthwhile taking the kind of job Pegg did. Maybe the others”—Finn noticed he didn’t want to mention the Alainsith; some feared speaking of them would draw their attention, though it had been several centuries since they’d attacked—“might have that power, but we haven’t seen sign of them in ages.”
“Other than the forest,” Rock said. When the King shot him a look, Rock shrugged. “I spent some time outside the walls. I know what’s out there.”
“Nothing is outside the walls but the hegen section and trees. At least nothing we have to worry about. Stay in the city and get paid. You do the wrong job, you risk attention. That’s why you have to do it smart. Keep it clean.” He glanced at Oscar. “Which Pegg didn’t do.”
“Pegg wouldn’t have gone into anything without knowing the risks,” Oscar said. “I knew him a little. We pulled a few jobs together when I was younger.”
“That must have been quite some time ago,” Annie said. “You still look beautiful, though.” She traced a finger along the scar under his chin, a glimmer of a smile hanging on her lips. “The girls like the scar on you, anyway.”
Oscar snorted. “I’m sure.”
“What was he like?” Finn asked.
Finn had recognized Pegg, but anyone who spent any time in the city's outer sections would have recognized him. The more challenging jobs all went to him and his crew, mostly because he was the most skilled. The most exacting. Taking jobs like that put his people into danger, but from the way Finn had heard it told, none of the jobs that he took ever felt as if they were heading into all that much danger, mostly because of the level of preparation that Pegg put into each job.
It was why him getting pinched came as such a surprise. As far as Finn had heard, Pegg had never been caught. Those who got caught in the outer sections of the city got noticed. The crews they worked with got noticed.
“A thief, Shuffles. No different than the Hand,” the King said.
As much as he disliked the nickname, he tried to embrace it, at least as much as someone could embrace a name like that. Better that he not argue about it, especially not with the King.