CHAPTER TWO

Dismounting in the town's trade quarter, Mat surveyed the surrounding buildings. His eyes narrowed as he searched for the distinctive emblem that signified a healer's den. Cal moved awkwardly beside him. Mat could sympathise with the man's weary step. The pair had ridden perilously hard in the treacherous weather, and both were thoroughly mud splattered and exhausted. They stood, eyes peering into the dim light for what they sought as their mounts heaved plumes of white vapour into the chill, night air with each laboured breath.

'Do you see anything?' Mat's voice sounded hoarse and too loud in the silence.

Cal slowly shook his head as he scanned the surroundings.

'Nothing' he muttered, catching his lip with his teeth 'We are in the right place, right?'

'Per said that the healers are usually in this type of area.' Mat worked at a kink in his neck, trying to knead the weariness and anxiety from the tense muscles. 'Just keep looking.'

It soon became clear that a more widespread exploration was necessary. After tethering the horses, both men set off on their search.

The buildings were all nondescript, and somewhat wan looking in their disrepair. Mat walked both sides of the narrow street, pressing his nose to the glass of each window in an effort to spy any clues that a healer practiced there. Unsuccessful, he continued his search into the narrowing street. The houses became smaller and more decrepit the deeper he moved, sagging and looming in the darkness of the fading street, which was now more of an alley than a main walkway. Dense globes of water dropped ponderously from the sloping rafters of the frail houses, occasionally causing a sparsely placed torch to hiss and spit.

The cobbles were treacherously slick, and Mat briefly lost his footing on the greasy stones, ungainly righting himself in short time to avoid an undignified sprawl. He cursed, more loudly than he intended, then paused as a movement above him snagged his gaze

Glancing at the upper window of the nearest building, he caught sight of a slight figure at the window, obscured by a filmy hanging. The meagre light the figure appeared to be holding gave a startled flinch and was quickly extinguished before the hanging hitched back to cover his view of the beholder.

Probably had a bloody good chuckle at me as well Mat thought testily, imagining the sight he must have made with flailing arms, desperately trying to avoid falling on his rump.

Mat brushed irritably at his jacket, straightened his hat, and was in the process of righting his ever-present necktie when he noticed a familiar symbol.

Approaching the window, he reached his hand to sweep a film of grime from the glass, revealing a dusty sign with the embossed emblem he was searching for; scales with a stylised leaf and a dagger balanced on opposing sides.

Mat whistled a relieved sigh through his teeth, and glanced back at the upper window. His mysterious watcher had not reappeared. Still, he reasoned, if the occupant was already awake, they wouldn't object to a little business, particularly in a downtrodden little place like this.

The large door was less solid that it appeared. Mat's first less than tentative knock shook slivers of mouldering wood from its surface. Brushing the irksome splinters from his hand, he waited. As he was considering further damage to the world-weary door, a series of sounds reached his ear; a muttered curse, stumbling footsteps, the clatter of stairs, a yelp of surprise and another curse, this time loud and harsh enough to make even Mat wince.

After a crescendo of unbolting deadlocks and a yowling creak of agonised hinges, Mat found himself being thoroughly peered at by a pair of hard, grey eyes.

Mat affected his widest, most innocent smile as he endured the scrutiny of that bleak gaze.

'I am truly sorry to disturb you...'

'Closed. Come back tomorrow.'

The door slammed as best it could on those unyielding hinges, leaving Mat staring at the crumbling door.

Curling his hands into fists, Mat tried not to sound like he was talking through gritted teeth.

'It's urgent. My friends are very sick.'

Silence.

'Look, if you could just give me something for this evening. I have information on what we need, I could get them now, and be out of your way.'

Still nothing.

'They are dying.' The stark words brought a harsh vision to him; two bodies, wrapped in filthy blankets, a slick pool of silty water forming beneath them from the seeping damp of the cold ground. He banished the sight from his mind and tried to focus on his intent.

There was no movement, no sign that the healer was still there. Mat fist's ached to pummel the door. His lips curled in an almost feral sneer.

'If lives are of no interest to you, I can pay well, you witless, goat- loving son of...'

The door yawned wide with a whine, revealing a large man with a huge paunch and imposing beard.

'How much?' the man asked, his slate eyes now flickering with interest.

Mat reached to his waist and unclasped a small sack of coin. Bouncing the pouch on his palm, he glared at the man above a grin that was more a baring of teeth.

'However much it takes.'