11
KAZMERGA; TWO AGAINST A WORLD
Mathurin entered on his almost soundless feet and let the door close behind him in the dark before saying, “Rodvard,” softly. Rodvard, who had been letting his mind drift along endless alleys rather than thinking, swung himself up. “I will make a light.”
“Do not. There is danger enough, and its point would so be sharpened. Do not even speak aloud.”
“What is it?”
“The Duke of Aggermans. His bravoes are let loose. No time. I only just now learned it from the Count.” Outside there was the soft sighing of rain.
“I am to go?”
“At once. Make your way south, to the Center of Sedad Mir. The contact is a wool-dealer named Stündert, in the second dock street. Can you remember? Change clothes with me quickly. Do not even take the door, which is watched, but go by the window, across the road, and south into the country.”
The serving-man began to undress in the dark; Rodvard recognized the sound. “Is there any money?” he asked.
The rustling stopped. “You to need money, who have the Blue Star?”
Even under the dark, Rodvard felt himself flush (did he dare tell what had happened? No.). “Still, I will need some small amount. I have nothing.”