Greetings, ye Lords and ye Ladies!

Before you start reading, there are a few things I want to make clear about this story.

First and foremost, the characters and such belong to Tamora Pierce, not me.

Second, this story is what I imagine will happen in the next Beka Cooper book, not anyone else. (If I get round to it, I intend to write my own version of Elkhound, too). My sister Lizzy might pound correct grammar into it, but she has nothing to do with the actual content.

Third, this is my first fan fiction, so go easy on me, at least for the first while. I do want people to tell me how they think I could improve it though, and if any parts limp. Just don't bring all my dilutions of authorhood down about my ears, alright?

Fourth, this is not a romance-on-every-page story. There is some, but if you are looking for a Beka-and-Rosto-do-nothing- but-snog sort of story, you'll have to look elsewhere.

Fifth and finally, the main plot ideas for this and my version of Elkhound come from what Lizzy (the Tamora Pierce addict) has garnered off various sites. Beats me if any of them are real, but I used them anyway.

Thank you for letting me air my views (there will probably be more, just to warn you).

Sir Gwydion

Wednesday, December 9, 246

Written before watch.

These past three days have driven me half mad, and every mot, cove, gixie, lad, Rat, Dog, Lord and Lady in Corus is half mad along with me.

A snow storm, the first this season has raged through the city. No one has been able to to leave her house. Not to get food, or to visit friends, or to escape the friends she has been stuck inside with for three poxy days without stretching her poor aching legs.

Aniki, Rosto and I have been at each other's throats. Kora and Ersken have been unbearably sweet on each other. Even walking my watch in snow as deep as my knee will be a joy after this.

Winter is always a bad time for us Dogs. The ground is slick and the folk are restless and ready for mischief.

This morning, when we gathered for breakfast with the first fresh food we've had since the storm started and we were all grinning like fools.

Rosto came into my rooms with a basket of rolls. "The streets are already packed. Beka, be glad you don't have day watch."

"Why?" I asked.

"Oh, no reason." he replied with a nonchalant shrug, and by that I knew by that its Rogue business.

Kora's half-grown cat Fuzzball took that opportunity of distraction to make an ill advised leap at Pounce's tail. My cat swatted his attacker away with a yowl that I will not translate into this journal, so foul was his speech.

Us who live here are the the only ones who have come thus far, the snow is so deep. Even my pigeons are clever enough to stay where ever they go when they aren't pestering me.

I washed the breakfast dishes in melted snow while Aniki dried. She was frowning.

"Sorry the storm's gone already?" I teased.

Her scowl deepened. "No." It was a curt reply.

" Is sommat wrong?"

"No."

"Leave it, Beka." Kora told me. " Aniki's in a temper today."

I shrugged. There were other things to think of then Aniki's foul mood. Much as I would druther have stayed inside, I had a duty to the spinners. When all my guests were gone, I bundled up in hat,gloves, scarf, cloak and extra stockings.

With a mind to Rosto's earlier comment, I kept my guard up, but saw nothing unexpected as I made my way to the corner where Hasfush was. I unknotted a little bundle from my pocket and let its contents trickle to the ground. Quickly, the dirt spiraled up in a gentle swirl. I closed my eyes and stepped forward.

"--Pretty as you please, and twice as sweet--"

"--Made of lead, th bastard. Best fake I ever seen, but th' Dog, he saw it. A'most 'obbled me for the counterfeitin'--"

"--How did 'e even know--"

"Gods an' glory, man. In the cellar, hey? I never--"

On and on it went, a flood of lively talk, gossip, giggles, sobs, and grunts. In each spinner, I heard something new. A drunkard proclaimed his undying love to and alley cat. A sailor from Carthak cursed the air blue. But more often then I should have liked, I heard whispers of false coin. How could a counterfeiter have gotten so far as to have his work be common street talk without the Dogs so much as being put on the alert? By the sound of things, this was already a threat to the Kingdom's pocket. It didn't make sense, neither. Most counterfeit was aimed at a particular person or business, but this seemed to be spread all over Corus. Least ways, all over the parts that visit the Lower City often enough for the spinners to hear their talk.

A whistle sounded, sharp and demanding, through the babble of mots and coves out on the streets. It was a Dog whistle, calling for aid. Instinctively, me hand went to my belt for the baton I wasn't wearing. Regardless, there was a Dog in need of help, so I spun around the corner to the square where the whistle had come from.

A scene of utter pandemonium met my eyes and made my tripes clench. The snow had muffled the noise , but in the square it echoed and boomed. Outside the Whistling Pony, a tavern of bad repute, four Dogs were attempting to separate at least a dozen brawlers. For the first time I began to believe Goodwin, and think that the only Dogs worth their pay are on Evening Watch. The loobies were going about it in completely the wrong way! Instead of cracking a few heads to keep the on lookers quiet, they had forced themselves into the midst of the fray, and were being battered brutally. I suppose most folk take at least until noon to get drunk, but still, one would think that they would know how to deal with a brawl.

A pair of doxies clung to each other, shrieking, obviously delighted to be terrified. More tosspots then I could count egged the fighters on and joined in intermittently. Bets were called, insults bellowed, and the snow was churned and bloodied.

A huge bull faced cove thumped one of the Dogs on the side of her head. The mot's eyes rolled up, and she crumpled. I lunged in and dragged her out of harm's way, then took her baton. I felt better with it in my hand. I was not in uniform, but now I was known for a Dog.

The drunk who had struck the Dog in the head tried the same trick on me, and I'm shamed to say it almost worked. I leaned back so his missed my temple, but he got my cheekbone hard before I could strike his cracked nob with my baton.

It was madness. Somewhere along the line, my eye got blacked, my lip split, my nose bloodied and my wrist broken. The blood from my nose rolled down the back of my throat, making me feeling queasy. We Dogs sent the drunken loobies about their business in the end, though.

"Good on ye, Cooper," said one of the Dogs. " Do y' need help to get back to the Kennel?"

I shook my head, leaning back and pinching my nose to stop the bleeding. He shrugged, and shouldered the mot whose baton I'd borrowed. They all headed off towards the Kennel to get the mot's head looked at. When my nose stopped bleeding, I dragged myself off after them to have my wrist fixed by the healer there. I grimaced. He wasn't too good with bones, and I would probably need to wear a splint for a few days.

It was an hour later when I limped back to my rooms at Rosto's Dancing Dove. I went in the back way so as to avoid the Court of the Rogue having a laugh at the dented Dog. As I had feared, I had to wear a splint. Pounce is scolding me now for not telling him before getting myself in a fight so he could come too. My wrist aches. I think I will take a nap, then go visit Kora before going on my Watch.

Written after Watch.

Kora and I sat for a while in her rooms doing out mending. She's no mind to sitting in on Rogue business, or playing dice and drinking like Aniki does. She only shook her head at my bruises. She is used to them appearing.

"What's bothering Aniki, to make her so cross?" I asked, darning a stocking more full of holes then a foist's alibi.

"I don't know," Kora told me, thoughtful like. "I think she's had enough of the Court, and Rosto's rule. She told me she wants to go see the rest of this Tortall of yours. She told Rosto so over the summer, but he told her to stay here. She hasn't liked Corus half so well since Rosto became the Rogue. She wants a challenge, something to use that sword of hers for."

After some time, I had to go get changed into uniform for baton practice with Ahuda. Pounce will not come on Watch with me. He hates the cold and the wet.

I was planning to sneak out the back again with no Rat the wiser of my injuries, but it seemed the Rogue had been in one of the back rooms, talking business with a burly rusher and his equally hard-looking mots, and I almost walked into them, but just in time, I ducked back behind the corner. The rushers didn't see me, but Rosto did. He's a canny one, he is. He spoke softly to the cove and mots a minute, then they trooped back into the common room.

He stepped around the corner, eyebrows raised, and took in my appearance slowly. My curst shyness made me blush and look down. Rosto laughed. "Now Beka, who have you been playing with, to black your eye?"

To my own surprise, I looked up and grinned, splitting my lip again. "Day Watch and some taven drunks." I wiped the blood from my lip.

He laughed again. "Never say I didn't warn you."

I ducked my head and made to run out the door, but he caught my arm, I winced: it was my splinted left one. I cocked my head to the side questioningly. "I'm going to be late for baton practice."

"Gods forbid that I should keep you from one minute of being beaten to a pulp by that vicious little Ahuda, but I need to talk to you." He pulled me into the room where he'd been talking with the rushers and closed the door. Quietly, he asked, "Have you any thought as to who is behind this counterfeiting?

I wouldn't ask, but I've never seen it so bad."

This being Dog business, my Dog sense took charge. Why would a Rat ask a Dog about Rat business? Much less the King Rat? I couldn't say as much aloud, so I tried to get at it in a left handed way. "Meaning, your folk aren't behind it?"

He saw right through me. Obviously not, his black eyes seemed to say, mocking me. "No, they aren't, or why would I be asking you? I don't make it a habit to ask the nearest Dog what I'm about. They tend to take offense and throw me in the cages. If the Court were behind this, I'd be a bigger fool then Kayfer Deerborn ever was. Its beggaring the Rogue. No ideas, even for an extra bit in the Happy Bag?"

"I never heard of it till I listened to the spinners just this morning. There's no word out to the Dogs, no warnings to check coin before you accept it of to be on the look out for counterfeiters. Nothing."

Rosto looked thoughtful a moment, then tweaked my nose. "Fancy that. A crime in the Lower City which Beka Cooper didn't know about the second it happened." I scowled, but he leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose, wicked cove that he is, and was gone. I touched my fingers the the place his lips had brushed my skin. I shook my head to clear the fool notions from it, and ran off to the Kennel as quickly as I could, sliding on the icy streets. A pox on this queer feeling in my chest.

After practice, Tunstall, Goodwin and I walked our rounds. When she saw me, Goodwin said, "The idea is you wait until your own watch to get beat up, Cooper."

I remember stopping three more tavern brawls (Blessed, competent Evening Watch!), a nasty argument between two Rats over a pretty doxie, and an untold number of pickpockets and minor thieves. Tunstall said it was the cold and the healing that have made me so tired tonight. I was so weary that by mistake I got into the Dancing Dove by the front entrance. The Rats stared for a moment at this unexpected intrusion from a Dog, albeit a Puppy. I blinked, stifled a yawn, and made my way out of the common room, too tired to care that they were hooting with laughter.

I made myself write this down while it is still fresh in my mind, but now my lovely warn cat is yowling at me to go to bed before I faint and he has to go out onto the cold landing to fetch some one to carry me there.

Some unpleasant time betwixt very late and very early.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

I woke with a stale, unrested feeling to see that it wasn't yet dawn. Another thump sent me to my feet and Pounce to the shutters. I joined him and unlatched the one as was being hit by sommat. In flew a pigeon, a new one I'd never seen before, all sleek blue-black and copper.

Generally, I like pigeons, for themselves and for the news of the ghosts they carry, but I am not fond of pigeon visits at middle night. I seized him and held him against me. I opened my fool mouth and began to scold the mumper, until I heard the whisper of a ghost, quiet but strong: this ghost was old, but not letting go.

"Curse her, curse her!" the voice was a woman's, and accented with a Carthaki's liquid smoothness. "Scheming wretch! The foul creature will suffer yet, and by my hand!"

"Who?" I asked, trying to keep annoyance from my voice. Ghost seem to pick up on how I feel, and react to it. When it didn't reply, I repeated the question, but the pigeon squirmed and broke free of my grip. He struck out at me with a strong wing, hitting my splinted wrist. I heard a snap from the still mending bones, then pain sparked behind my eyes.

"Sarden pigeon!" I yelled. The pigeon flew in circles around my head, cawing triumphantly.

My door banged open and some one rushed through to my bedroom. The poxy bird landed on my freshly broken wrist, jarring it so hard I yelped. A hand touched my shoulder as I sat back down on the bed, before I fell.

Footsteps on the stairs, and Kora and Aniki tumbled into the room, knives at the ready. So it must have been Rosto who came in first. Figured, since he and Aniki swapped rooms so he could be on the upper floor and there by harder to be murdered in his sleep. Being the Rogue must be hard.

"Curst pigeon," I mumbled.

"Midnight pigeons?" Aniki asked.

"Vicious pigeons," I said, and let Kora look at my wrist. She has splinted it again, now. All I can say is I wish most heartily never to see that pigeon (I named him Boner) again. I have to see the Healer again tomorrow, but for now, I can finish my sleep in relative comfort, because of an ointment Kora put on it to stop the pain.

I have good friends.