Bleary-eyed Navelwort lifted his foam-tipped nose from his pint and stared at the lad who had just addressed to him. It was a young boy of perhaps ten years of age, skinny and dressed in a ragged and patched brown coat that was much too large for him.
”Come again?” Navelwort slurred.
”A man”, the boy said. ”Said he had money for you. He’s waiting for you on the street below the Low Gate right now! He said it’s urgent!”
”A man?” Navelwort repeated.
”Aye, a man!”
”What kind of a man?”
”I think a foreigner, sur! He did not look local!”
”Was he wearing a gray woolen cloak?”
”I don’t…”
”How much did he pay you to deliver this message to me?”
The boy recoiled and took a step back, suddenly wary. ”You’re not gettin’ it!”
Navelwort’s friends, who had been listening into the conversation, burst into laughter. Navelwort’s greed was legendary. The man would sell his old grandmother for a button, so sticking up a starved beggar boy for a copperling would have been right up his alley. Navelwort flushed with embarrassment and anger and raised his hand to give the boy a well-deserved slap around the ears.
”Do not hit the lad”, growled a burly man leaning on the fireplace and shook his fist at Navelwort. ”Come on, Navelwort. What’s it about?”
Navelwort changed his slap into a gentle tap on the boy’s head and flashed a bright smile at the rugged man by the fireplace. ”Oh, it’s nothing, Cliff, absolutely nothing! Just a bit of business I need to attend to. Thank you, dear boy, for your efforts…”
The boy glared at Navelwort, spat at his feet and sprinted out of the Pony. Navelwort wanted to run after the boy and tech him a lesson about how to have a proper discussion with adults, but Cliff’s prickly glare burned at the back of his head and stayed his feet. Navelwort turned to his drinking companions, all smiles: ”I need to pop out for a wee bit, but I’ll be back! Hold my drink, Willy.”
It was late in the evening and the streets of Bree were empty of people as Navelwort plodded down the street towards the market square and took a sharp turn right through the Low Gate, expecting to meet his new friend the gray-hooded fuggin’ foreigner there, with more money for more information. Navelwort didn’t really know anything new, but perhaps he could make something up for some more coin? Life had been smiling upon poor Navelwort lately, and…
”Navelwort.”
It was not the gray-hooded foreigner’s voice, but he recognized this one too. It was the other foreigner, the one who had bestowed Navelwort with coin as well, but also pain. He looked around and thought to run when Delioron’s fist buried itself into his stomach. Navelwort doubled over and threw up his liquid breakfast, lunch and supper on the pavement. Delioron kicked him between the legs and Navelwort tumbled down on the pavement, hitting his head and losing his consciousness.
A moment later Navelwort woke up to an excruciating pain. He was propped up against the foundation of an angled cellar door and Delioron was squatting down in front of him. He was holding a sharp dagger with a long, blackened blade in his hand. There was no mercy in the man’s gray, expressionless eyes.
”Tell me about Paladin Took”, he said in a flat tone.
”I told you everything already! Look, I…”
Navelwort’s words died in his mouth as he felt something very sharp pressing against his scrotum. Somebody was making a strange whimpering sounds somewhere nearby. It took a moment before Navelwort realized the sound came from his own throat.
”Who is behind the plan to kidnap Paladin Took?”
”Sharkey”, Navelwort whispered in horror. ”But nobody knows who Sharkey is. Please…”
”Somebody knows. And I want names.”
”I don’t… Bill Ferny! He knows everyone and everything! If anyone would know about Sharkey it would be Bill!”
”Bill Ferny, good. Who else? Where does he live?”
”I don’t…”
A blinding pain, and Navelwort opened his mouth to scream, but one look into the merciless eyes stopped him.
”Please, man”, Navelwort sniffled, ”you’re cutting my nuts off…”
”Yes. And then I’m going to feed them to you. And after that I stop being gentle. Unless you tell me exactly what I want to know.”
”But I can’t, man! Don’t you see? They will kill me…”
”I can kill you too, if you’d prefer. I can make it quick and easy and painless. But first you will tell me what I want to know. I can make it hard or I can make it easy, but you will talk. I don’t have much time to be polite about it.”
Navelwort understood.
”I will talk, but please don’t kill me…”
”Tell me the names of those who know about Sharkey and the plan to kidnap Paladin Took.”
”There’s Coddle. He’s at the Pony right now, and he lives this side of town. He knows I went outside to talk to…”
”What does Coddle look like?”
”He’s got dark hair, curly hair…”
”Where does Coddle live?”
Navelwort gave him an address.
”And who is Coddle?”
”Coddle is a top man. He’s a boss. He’s got people working for him, watching his back. I work for him…”
”Who else?”
”Bill Ferny. He lives in a ramshackle house, the last house before the Southern Gate…”
”Who else?”
”Please, for the love of… I don’t know!”
”When will they kidnap Paladin Took?”
”Didn’t you hear? They already tried…”
”The assault in Staddle? That was the plan?”
”I don’t know, I don’t know…”
”Who does?”
”I don’t…”
Delioron turned the blade. This time Navelwort couldn’t hold the scream. He started bawling.
”Please… there was a man yesterday evening… clad in gray cloak and hood… he wanted to know all the things I already told you… he gave me money… never told me his name… I told him everything I told you… I don’t know anything else… maybe he knows about Sharkey…”
”Describe him.”
”A foreigner… strange accent… not like yours… round, pale face… very round, like the moon… a childish face, baby-face… long, spidery fingers…”
”Where did you meet him?”
”He approached me at the Oldstone Ruins… spooked me…”
”Who killed Hodhion?”
”You did…”
Delioron stared at the hapless burglar and realized that he was telling him the truth. Navelwort didn’t know anything. He was just another petty criminal of Bree, a greedy little man turned informant by Hodhion by chance, a man who had gotten caught up in a game he did not understand. A game he did not know how to play. Delioron stood up and put his dagger away.
”You are a dead man walking, Navelwort”, he said. ”You were dead the minute you walked out of the Pony after that boy. The only way you may still survive is by running. Right now. Don’t go back to the Pony. Don’t go home to kiss your wife or kids good-bye. Choose a gate in Bree, any gate, walk through it and just go. Go as far as you can. Never look back, never return. Your life in Bree is over.”
”My life”, Navelwort pleaded. ”My family. My pals.”
”It’s over”, Delioron said and disappeared into the shadows like a ghost.
