Free Easy Betrayals by Richard Baker Page A

bravest sons and return to set this wrong aright. It is an abomination in the eyes of the just.”
    Good luck, thought Belgin, but he kept his remark to himself. Skullport rambled and twisted in the darkness of the great sea cavern, illuminated by sickly yellow lanterns and green fox fire. Its dismal alleyways and ram shackle buildings reminded him of the worst pirate dens he’d seen in the Five Kingdoms, but this place was far more sinister than the rough-and-tumble seaports he knew. Skullport was a place of dark pleasures and grim designs, a place where things that could not abide the light of day chose to do their business.
    “I don’t like it much, either,” Belgin admitted. “Best we do what we came to do and get out of here fast.”
    Miltiades’s hood nodded. The paladin didn’t care for Belgin’s suggestion of a disguise, but he’d reluctantly agreed after the sharper had pointedly asked how many other paladins in shining armor he saw stomping around in Skullport’s streets. “She must have friends here. I’ve heard that the so-called Unseen lurk somewhere in this dismal pit. Well start with them.”
    “Any idea of how to find them, Miltiades? They must be called the Unseen for some reason, after all,” Jacob pointed out.
    The big fighter brought up the rear of their small party, keeping a sharp eye out behind them. In order to conceal their Tyrian armor, both Jacob and Miltiades had borrowed dark cloaks from ally drunks who’d never need them again. While Miltiades steamed and stewed in his shroud, Jacob grinned ear to ear, obviously enjoying the stealthy approach.
    “Question one of these wretched villains scuirying by,” Miltiades said. “Noph’s lasso ought to elicit the answers we need. Sooner or later, well find one who knows something.”
    Belgin rolled his eyes, but assented. “Fine. It lacks subtlety, but well try it your way. I suspect that flashing gold in one of these alehouses would only mark us as targets, anyway.” He eased the rope into his hand and measured it carefully. Together, the three men waited in the mouth of a dark alleyway, watching the mindless dead come and go. Dozens of humans, drow, and more monstrous creatures passed while they watched, but almost all traveled in pairs or small groups, watching the streets carefully. Two times the three men lassoed solitary corsairs when no one else seemed to be paying attention, but the fellows they caught knew nothing of Skullport’s Unseen. Jacob whistled merrily and bound them in the filth-strewn alleyway, out of sight of the street.
    After a half-hour or so, a proud mageling sauntered down the street at a moment when no one else seemed to be near. At a nod from Miltiades, Belgin threw the lasso at her without a word. The braid seemed to leap out of his hand, directing itself into a tight loop as it settled silently over the mark. “Come here, and do not resist!” Belgin hissed. The mage stiffened and started to raise her hands, but the magic of the lasso trapped her.
    Snarling in rage, she plodded toward the alleyway. “You have no idea who you’re trifling with, fool! When I get free—”
    “You will remain silent and answer only the questions I put to you,” Belgin said. The fox-faced woman broke off abruptly, but her eyes were daggers of ice. “Have you ever heard of the Unseen?”
    “Yes,” the mage grated angrily.
    “Do you know where they can be found?”
    “No.”
    “Feel free to respond in something besides monosyllables,” Belgin said wryly. “Do you know of any way we could find them?”
    “Yes.”
    Miltiades snorted. “So how can we find them? What’s the best way?”
    Struggling to resist, the mage winced and tried to mumble. The lasso of truth dragged her words forth. “There is an alehouse called the Broken Pike, several hundred yards up the street. In the back room, a man named Marks buys and sells stolen baubles. He only pretends to be a fence, though; in truth he is a doppelganger who keeps his