“Go on. You have something else to say.”
A stealthy smile creased his mouth.
“Keen as thou art fair. Know, then, that his wife is in our hands.”
“Again, go on,” I whispered. I could hardly breathe.
“We found her like a little torn rat in a sewer—ragged, half starved.” He gulped, and looked up with a pallid grin. “Have I not deserved? It is the better half of the bargain. Vouchsafe me my reward in advance.”
I paid no heed to his question, asking him only—
“Where is she?”
“In the Carmine.”
“And a hostage?”
He shivered, and hung his head.