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It is not vanity. I lived in the Cesspool for eight year. I stole. I studied with the Lord Provost for eight more year. Three year of that eight I ran messages for the Provost’s Dogs, before I went into training. I know the Lower City better than I know the faces of my sisters and brothers, better than I knew my mother’s face. I will learn the rest quicker than any other Puppy. I even live in the Lower City again, on Nipcopper Close. None of the others assigned to the Jane Street kennel do. (They will regret it when they must walk all the way home at the end of their watch!)
Pounce says I count my fish before they’re hooked. I tell Pounce that if I must be saddled with a purple-eyed talking cat, why must it be a sour one? He is to stay home this week. I will not be distracted by this strange creature who has been my friend these last four years. And I will not have my Dogs distracted by him. They will ask all manner of questions about him, for one – questions I cannot answer and he will not.
My greatest fear is my shyness. It has grown so much worse since I began to put up my hair and let down my skirts. I was the best of all our training class in combat, yet earned a weekly switching because I could not declaim in rhetoric. Somehow I must find the courage to tell a stranger he is under arrest for crimes against the King’s peace, and detail those crimes. Or I must get a partner who likes to talk.
I am assigned to the Jane Street kennel. The Watch Commander in this year of 246 is Acton of Fenrigh. I doubt I will ever have anything to do with him. Most Dogs don’t. Our Watch Sergeant is Kebibi Ahuda, my training master in combat and the fiercest mot I have ever met. We have six Corporals on our watch and twenty-five Senior Guards. That’s not counting the cage Dogs and the Dogs who handle the scent hounds. We also have a mage on duty, Fulk. Fulk the Nosepicker, we mots call him. I plan to have nothing to do with him, either. The next time he puts a hand on me I will break it, mage or not.
There is the sum of it. All that remains is my training Dogs. I will write of them, and describe them properly, when I know who they are.
Written at day’s end.
As the sun touched the rim of the city wall, I walked into the Jane Street kennel. For our first day, we had no training before duty. I could enter in a fresh, clean uniform. I had gotten mine from the old clothes room at my Lord Provost’s house. I wore the summer black tunic with short sleeves, black breeches, and black boots. I had a leather belt with purse, whistle, paired daggers, a proper baton, water flask, and rawhide cords for prisoner taking. I was kitted up like a proper Dog and ready to bag me some Rats.
Some of the other Lower City trainees were already there. Like me, they wore a Puppy’s white trim at the hems of sleeves and tunic. None of us know if the white is to mark us out so Rats will spare us or so they will kill us first. None of our teachers will say, either.
I sat with the other Puppies. They greeted me with gloom. None of them wanted to be here, but each district gets its allotment of the year’s trainees. My companions felt they drew the short straw. There is curst little glory here. Unless you are a veteran Dog or a friend of the Rogue, the pickings are coppers at best. And the Lower City is rough. Everyone knows that of the Puppies who start their training year in the Lower City, half give up or are killed in the first four months.
I tried to look as glum as the others to keep them company. They are cross that I wanted to come to Jane Street.
Ahuda took her place at the tall Sergeants’ desk. We all sat up. We’d feared her in training. She is a stocky black woman with some freckles and hair she has straightened and cut just below her ears. Her family is from Carthak, far in the south. They say she treats trainees the way she does in vengeance for how the Carthakis treated her family as slaves. All I know is that she made fast fighters of us.
She nodded to the Evening Watch Dogs as they came on duty, already in pairs or meeting up in the waiting room. Some looked at our bench and grinned. Some nudged each other and laughed. My classmates hunkered down and looked miserable.
“They’ll eat us alive,” my friend Ersken whispered in my ear. He was the kindest of us, not the best trait for a Dog-to-be. “I think they sharpen their teeth.”
“Going to sea wouldn’ta been so bad.” Verene had come in after me and sat on my other side. “Go on, Beka – give ‘em one of them ice-eye glares of yours.”
I looked down. Though I am comfortable with my fellow Puppies, I wasn’t easy with the Dogs or the folk who came in with business in the kennel. “You get seasick,” I told Verene. “That’s why you went for a Dog. And leave my glares out of it.”
Since Ahuda was at her desk, the Watch Commander was already in his office. He’d be going over the assignments, choosing the Dog partners who would get a Puppy or just agreeing to Ahuda’s choices. I asked the Goddess to give Ersken someone who’d understand his kindness never meant he was weak. Verene needed Dogs that would talk to her straight. And me?
Goddess, Mithros, let them be good at their work, I begged.
Who would I get? I know who I wanted. There were three sets of partners who were famous for their work. I kissed the half moon at the base of my thumbnail for luck.
Outside, the market bells chimed the fifth hour of the afternoon – the end of the Day Watch and the beginning of the Evening Watch. Dogs going off duty lined up before Ahuda’s desk, their Puppies at their backs, to muster out. When Ahuda dismissed them, they were done for the day. Their Puppies, six of our classmates, sighed with relief and headed out the door. Before they left, they told us what we were in for, each in their own fashion. Some gave us a thumbs-up. A couple mimed a hanging with a weary grin. I just looked away. What was so hard for them? They’d had Day Watch. Everyone knew that Evening Watch got the worst of it in the Lower City.
With the Day Watch gone, Ahuda called out the names of a pair of Dogs. They’d been lounging on one of the benches. When they looked at her, she jerked her thumb at the Commander’s door. They settled their shoulders, checked each other’s uniforms, then went inside. I knew them. My lord Gershom had commended them twice.
Once the door closed behind them, Ahuda looked at us. “Puppy Ersken Westover. You’re assigned to those two Dogs for training. Step up here.”
Ersken gulped, then stood to whistles and applause from the veteran Dogs. I straightened his clothes. Verene kissed him, and our fellow trainees clapped him on the back or shook his hand. Then Ersken tried to walk across that room like he was confident he could do the job, in front of about twenty ordinary folk and the Dogs of the Evening Watch.
Hilyard elbowed me. “You coulda given him a kiss, Beka, to brighten his last hours.”
I elbowed him some harder. Hilyard was always trying to cook up mischief.
“My kisses ain’t good enough?” Verene demanded of him. She punched his shoulder. “See what sweetenin’ you get when they call you.”
Ersken came to attention before Ahuda’s desk. She looked down her short nose at him. “Stop that. Relax. The Commander’s giving them the speech, about how they’re not to break you or dent you or toss you down the sewer without getting permission from me first.”
The Dogs laughed. One of them called, “Don’t sweat it, lad. We’re all just workin’ Dogs down here.”
“They keep the honor and glory and pretty girls for Unicorn District.” That Dog was a woman whose face was marked crossways by a scar.
One of them said, “Up there, the fountains run rose water. Here they run – “
” – piss!” cried the Dogs. It was an old joke in the Lower City.
The Commander’s door opened. Out came the two Dogs. They looked resigned. The heavyset one beckoned to Ersken. “Heel, Puppy. Let’s get our glorious partnership rolling. You don’t say nothin’, see? We talk, you listen.” He clamped a thick hand on Ersken’s shoulder and steered him to the door.
Ahuda called, “Remember, tomorrow you Puppies report an hour early for combat training before your watch. No more easy starts like today!” Ersken’s Dogs let the door close. Ahuda then called for a new
Dog pair to see the Commander and for the next of us to wait for his training Dogs. It was Hilyard’s turn. Just as she’d threatened, Verene gave him no kiss.
While we waited for the Dogs to collect Hilyard, a citywoman called, “Sarge? Be there word of who left old Crookshank’s great-grandbaby dead in the gutter?” We looked at her. She was here to visit a man in the Rat cages out back, mayhap. She had five little ones with her. She must have feared there was some killer out there and refused to leave them at home.
Ahuda shook her head. “There is no news, mistress. If you’re scared for your own, I’d counsel you to let go your fear. Crookshank is the evilest pinchpenny scale and landlord in the Lower City. He buys for coppers what’s valued in gold. If one of his firetraps burns with a mother in it, he sells the orphans for slaves. He’s got more’n enough enemies. Any of them could have strangled that poor little one.”
“Aye, but no one kills women and children,” muttered a Dog. “They’re no part of business.”
Ahuda glared at him. “We’ll catch the Rat and flay him living, but I’ll bet anyone here Crookshank drove some poor looby to Cracknob Row. Your little ones are safe, mistress.”
It’s true, Crookshank is the most hated man in Corus. It’s true also that family is off-limits if they aren’t in your enemy’s line of work. To kill a rival’s child kin is to become outlaw.
“I’ll wager the ol’ scale got the best to seek the lad’s killer,” a cove said. “Come on, Sergeant. Who’d Crookshank buy special t’ get put on the murder? I heard he got teams on each watch out seeking.”
“He did, not that it’s your business,” Ahuda said, not looking up from her writing.
“Who’s it on this watch?” someone else called.
Ahuda looked up with a scowl, ready to tell these folk to hold their tongues. It was old Nyler Jewel who said, “Why, me and Yoav, good cityfolk.”
They all stared. Doubtless they knew that Yoav’s sister hung herself but three months back. Her husband had sold her to pay a debt to Crookshank, then she had killed herself in the slave pens. Jewel and Yoav would never sweat to seek Rolond Lofts’s killer, no matter how much his great-grandda paid in bribes. The Dogs picked from the Night and Day Watches were also Dogs with a grudge. Crookshank had so many enemies he didn’t even know them all.
While Ahuda read out the names of the fourth pair to see the Commander, Matthias Tunstall and Clara Goodwin came in. I put my head down so my bangs hid my eyes and watched as they found themselves a patch of wall to lean on. Of the three good pairs here on Jane Street, they were the best, Goodwin a Corporal, Tunstall a Senior Dog. They could have had any posting in Corus, but they’d kept to the Lower City.
One night, my lord had invited them to supper for a task they’d done very well. I hid in the drapes of the little supper room at Provost’s House to hear the legends talk. Lord Gershom offered them a place in Highfields, but they’d refused. Tunstall said, “Clary and me, we know the Lower City. The worst ones know our little ways. The people of the Court of the Rogue have memorized our bootprints, bless their silly cracked heads. It suits us, don’t it, Clary?”
And Goodwin, she’d chuckled.
“The pickin’s are richer elsewhere.” My lord Gershom was amused, I could hear it. “The Happy Bags of bribes for the kennels are fatter in other districts.”
“We’re humble folk,” Goodwin said. She had a voice like dark honey. “We like humble pickings. And the bones that come from the Rogue’s Happy Bags are rich enough.”
I’d never be assigned to them, I knew. They didn’t get Puppies.
Goodwin and Tunstall gossiped with their friends among the Dogs as other pairs came out with a Puppy. The Lower City veterans are a hard crew, wearing metal throat protectors and metal-ribbed arm guards as well as the regular uniform. Even other Dogs are wary of these folk, respectful of their ability to stay alive.
I would be the last one called. I looked around as my last yearmate left with his Dogs. I wiped my sweating hands on my breeches. Then I nearly swallowed my own tongue, because Ahuda called, “Tunstall and Goodwin.”
“No!” Goodwin looked at me, her brown eyes sharp. “No. No. We don’t get Puppies. We don’t like Puppies. No offense, whoever you are. We have never had a Puppy.”
“You’re past due, then.” Ahuda had no sympathy in her eyes. “Your luck just ran out.”
Goodwin headed into the Commander’s office like a hawk that had sighted prey. Tunstall ambled after.
They are a mismatched pair. Corporal Goodwin is two inches shorter than me. She is built strong, wears her dark brown hair cut short. She has a small beak of a nose, full lips. They said she’d put down a Scanran berserker when he’d killed three men in a fight, her alone with her baton. She is fast and all muscle. She’s been a Dog seventeen years.
Senior Dog Tunstall has partnered with her for thirteen. He’s been a Dog for twenty in all. He is about six foot three, long-armed, long-legged, with deep-set brown eyes and a long, curved nose. I think he looks like an owl, though he’s popular enough with mots. He wears his hair cropped short all over his head. There is gray in it and in his short beard and mustache. He is funny and easygoing. He could be a Watch Commander, even a Captain. So could she. Neither of them want it. Kennel rumor says he is some kind of hillman, mayhap even a renegade from one of the eastern tribes. Whatever he’d been before coming to the Provost’s Guard, he is one of us now.
“Rebakah Cooper.”
From the laughter in the room, it wasn’t the first time Ahuda had called my name. I went to stand before the desk. She looked down at me. “Don’t let them rattle you,” she advised. “You’ve got the best. That’s the only extra chance I wangled for you. And if you’re smart, you won’t depend on your other connections high up to grease your way.”
I looked down. As if I’d ask for help from my lord!
“Better not be cooing our tales in his ear, neither.” I didn’t know the voice and I didn’t turn to look.
“She never did when she was a runner. I knowed she saw plenty. She had three years’ worth of chances.” That was a voice I knew, Nyler Jewel’s. “Never you worry about lil’ Beka.”
I just watched the floor. I hate being talked about. All the same, turning to talk back like Hilyard or Verene would do made my tripes wring out. Besides, I could hear shouting behind the Commander’s closed door. Since the Commander is a man, I knew it was Goodwin who wasn’t happy.
She walked out of the Commander’s office, slamming the door. I added another prayer to my string of them. I wanted to survive my Dog partners. She came up to me and looked me over. “I have two rules for you, Puppy.”
I looked down. I always do, I can’t help it. Meeting people is the hardest for me. It never gets any easier. She grabbed my chin with her hand and forced me to meet her eyes. “Look me in the face when I’m talking to you, Puppy Cooper. Two rules. Speak when you’re spoken to. And keep out of my way.” She let go of my chin and glared up at Tunstall, who had joined us. “All right? Time to start the babysitting detail.”
He smiled, looking even more like a tall, gangly owl. “Come on, Puppy Cooper.” His voice is deep, with a little bit of accent.
I followed them outside. I wasn’t going to tell Goodwin that I well knew the rules to follow with our training Dogs: Speak when you’re spoken to. Keep out of the way. Obey all orders. Get killed on your own time.
“Practice tomorrow at four!” Ahuda called after me. “Every day you have street duty, Cooper!”
Between the kennel door and the Jane Street gate is the courtyard where message runners and people with kennel business wait. The crowd was bigger than usual. They knew Puppies were being assigned and wanted to see who got what. The noise they made when they saw Tunstall and Goodwin with a trainee was deafening: whistles, laughter, plenty of comments about what Tunstall might do with me.
I tried not to listen. I didn’t think the body could bend in those directions. Not that I’d know. Most of the other gi
rl Puppies had been with a lad or two – and some mots, like my old friend Tansy, are already married by sixteen. I tried it once. It seemed well enough, but my mama’s life was reason enough not to let myself get hobbled by a lad. And there was my dream. Since Lord Gershom brought my family into his house, I have only wanted to be a Dog. Falling in love would just ruin things.
Passing through the gate, I saw movement in the shadows. One cat-shaped shadow came over to walk with me.
“Pounce,” I muttered, “scat! Go away!” Pox and murrain, he never listened! I told him I didn’t want him about this week! The curst animal always finds me. I’d locked him in, folly though it was. I had shuttered the windows, and barred them, and locked my door. I had made sure he was inside – I’d heard his yowling as I ran down the stairs. Eventually he always gets out, but I’d hoped he’d take the hint and leave me be! “I’m on duty!”
“I’d best not be hearing noise from you, Puppy,” Goodwin called over her shoulder.
I shut up and flapped my hands at Pounce. He ignored me, dratted creature that he is. Stupid cats stay home when they’re locked in. I wouldn’t have this problem if he were normal.
“Tunstall, why is there a cat following us?” Goodwin asked. “I don’t want to be falling over some stray black cat.”
“It’s not a stray, Goodwin. He wears a collar.” Tunstall bent down and scooped up Pounce. I glared at my cat, silently daring him to scratch or bite. Instead my contrary animal turned his whiskers forward in a cat’s smile, and let Tunstall scratch him under his chin. Pounce didn’t even struggle when Tunstall halted in a patch of fading sunlight to inspect him.
Then he saw Pounce’s eyes. “Mithros. Goodwin, look.”
Goodwin looked. She swore. It’s about half and half, who swears and who talks religion, when they see Pounce’s face. I can’t blame them. I nearly fell out of the stable loft when I found a kitten with purple eyes.
