ARC: The Corpse-Rat King by Lee Battersby Page B

guard.”
    Ej leaned back, and narrowed his gaze. “What about it?”
    Marius waved his hand airily. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. It’s just, I can’t believe old Olling would be in charge and tolerate any, well, tithing, shall we say?”
    The two soldiers shared another glance, and Marius pressed harder into the silence. “Does he know about the Maria Hole yet?”
    “What?”
    “Oh, you know, the Maria Hole. Down the wall there, twenty feet or so? Base of the wall, hole like the shape of old Maria Fellaini’s front entrance? I don’t suppose you remember old Maria. Too young, you are. But oh, when she danced the peekaboo, a strong man would have to see the doctor, get a salve to help with the bruises, you know what I mean, hey?” Marius chuckled. “But I can’t believe old Olling’s in charge, and one of you isn’t down there having a kip, out of sight, in the warm. Must be someone else, now.”
    The silence between the two men deepened. Marius waited, head tilted, watching their uncertainty with a smile. Slowly, without talking, the guards reached the right decision, as he knew they would.
    “You served?” Ej asked.
    “Oh, yes. Was here for the Whores Uprising. That was a weekend, let me tell you.”
    Ej nodded. “What’s your name, brother?”
    It was all Marius could do not to cackle. “Ebbel. Ebbel Samming. Sorry I don’t have anything to offer a former brother in arms. Should have known better. You have a good night, lads.” He turned his back to the gate, began to take a shuffling step away.
    “Wait on, now.”
    “Sorry?”
    There was a hurried exchange of whispers. When Marius turned back, young Jeltho was absent, but the sound of rapidly moving footsteps could be heard, heading off down the outside of the wall.
    “No charge for a brother in arms,’” Ej said. “You go on in. You’ve earned the right.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “Of course,” Ej said. “Only… if you do catch up with the patrol master….”
    “When did he last stand at a gate, hey?” Marius shuffled forward, leaned into Ej so that they stood, shoulder pressed to shoulder. He patted the bigger man on the arm. “I’m not one to rat out a brother guardsman, my friend. You have a good night.”
    “You too, Ebbel.” They parted and Marius limped through the gateway. When he was ten feet or so past the gate, Ej called out.
    “Oh, Ebbel.”
    Marius froze. He turned slowly, every muscle in his body preparing for flight. “Yes?”
    “Try the Mandrake Root . Tell Dettsie I sent you. They’ll have a room for you.”
    Marius waved the knobkerrie in salutation. “Thank you, friend. Thank you.”
    He shuffled away as fast as his charade would allow. As soon as he rounded the first corner he dispensed with the knobkerrie and the limp, and began to stride down through a maze of interconnecting alleyways away from the gate. He had spent a time in the Borgho City guard, or at least, as their prisoner. And there was a hole down the wall from the southern gate, but it neither resembled nor smelled like anyone’s front entrance. It was, however, the reason he wasn’t still under the guard’s stewardship. It had taken him three months to become trustee of the gaolers’ toilets, and another week to tunnel through the accumulated shit of the city’s sump holes. There wasn’t a bath strong enough to help those two guards tonight.
    And, he thought, patting his breeches pocket, Gods help ‘brother’ Ej if he mentioned to anyone that he’d just been speaking to his old companion Ebbel Samming. At least, God help him if he mentioned it to anyone who knew how to curse in Feltish. There are worse insults, but it takes one man to mouth them and another to mime the actions.
    An open doorway beckoned, and Marius ducked into it, taking a moment to transfer Ej’s coin purse from his breeches to a hidden pocket sewn into the lining of his jerkin. At least three Riner in ‘tolls’, judging by the weight. Enough to start the