Queen of Storms. Raymond E. Feist

storage room, as far from the stairs leading down from the inn above as possible, Hatu judged. The barman pushed on a stone, and a door revealed itself, swinging away easily, wood painted to look like the bricks that surrounded it.

      They walked down a sloping, stone-walled tunnel with a ceiling reinforced with supports and beams like those one would find in a mine. Water dripped from the ceiling so it must run under the edge of the river, Hatu calculated. At last they came to a well-lit room.

      A man sat at a table looking at what appeared to be a ledger, which he covered with a cloth as soon as he saw the barman with Hatu.

      No words were exchanged as the barman turned and began to make his way back. Then ‘Yes?’ said the man at the table. He was well dressed, looking more like a merchant of some importance than a master criminal, which Hatu knew he must be to hold the position of this city’s crew boss.

      ‘Who is the message for?’ asked the man behind the table.

      Hatu said, ‘Master Bodai.’

      ‘Alone?’

      ‘No other,’ said Hatu, ‘save Zusara.’

      The man stood and removed the covered book and cloth. ‘I am neither’s man. Can you write?’

      ‘Yes,’ said Hatu.

      The man set the ledger down on a shelf, produced clean paper and a pen and glass inkwell, then fetched a stick of sealing wax and a seal. ‘When you’ve finished your message, fold it twice, and seal it with wax. Leave it here on the table; do not carry it up to the taproom. When you have left the inn, I shall return and send it off. I assume there’s some urgency?’

      Hatu nodded. ‘Great urgency.’

      The man said, ‘I’ll have a man start downriver tonight. We have a fast ship near the mouth of the Narrows and it will be safely aboard by the day after tomorrow. With favourable winds, it should be in the hands of one of the masters within the week.’ He paused, then added, ‘Should a reply come, where will I find you?’

      ‘Beran’s Hill, at the Inn of the Three Stars. I am the proprietor.’

      The man nodded once and turned and walked up the tunnel.

      Hatu moved around behind the table and sat down, as the man departed. He paused for a moment to organize his thoughts, then dipped his pen in the inkwell and began to write.