"There's another problem" Marius said, slowly, as a waiter laid a plate of marsh-lentils in front of them. "Beriven's at least as smart as I am."
The Boss nodded carefully, but still smiled. "True, and like you, he may figure out my plan, which could affect how he chooses to deal with Damos. How is this a problem for you?"
Marius swallowed a half-chewed lentil, and gasped for breath as he spoke. "You want trust from us. We don't demonstrate that just by appeasing a 'Don'."
The Boss smiled, and nodded. "That's a sensible assessment. It's also quite true." He turned to Gothe and added "How many people in this city do you think know that I'm the 'Don'?"
Gothe smiled. "Less than thirty."
"Counting our young friend here, it's twenty-six. Seventeen of whom are in this room. You and your friends are privy to my very valuable anonymity. It's a secret more valuable, at the moment, than the lives of nine orphans."
"Nine?" Marius exclaimed. "There's only eight of us. The only reason Damos would know who you are is if you told him."
The Boss and Gothe looked at each other meaningfully for a long moment. "You can trust him, at least." Gothe said.
"What?" Marius asked, confused.
"Your reaction, obviously." Gothe explained. "Your first reaction, to a death threat from the Boss of Vos Ma'ar, is to try and save someone else. Even someone you don't know, or have any reason to care for."
"Don't feel bad." Gothe added, as Marius stared down at the floor. "Under the circumstances, it's the best thing you could have said."
Marius' gaze flickered to the Boss, who nodded slowly in agreement, the ghost of a smile painting his lips.
"How long have you all been clean?" The Boss asked. "I've noticed that you all took to it fairly quickly. Thema and Bug's employer, when he first met the three of you, mentioned that he couldn't tell at first that you were orphans."
"We've been bathing regularly since we first found those two jobs. We're saving up for a moisture collector so we can stop using the creek on the outskirts."
"Prudent. But how did you know a moisture collector could be converted into a shower?" The Boss asked.
"We asked the guy at the hardware store. He said that he'd help us install it as soon as we saved up enough. He said it wouldn't get more than a couple of showers a day. But it's the cheapest option that's like to keep working." Marius explained. "We figured that getting everyone a shower every four days would more than do the trick."
"How are you getting laundry done?" Gothe asked.
"The river. An old ribbed table made into a washboard. Some soap when we need to." Marius shrugged. "The kitchen stays warm enough to dry it all, even with this cold."
"It sounds like you have the basics covered."
"I'm hoping so. We're lucky Tha'varr knows how to cook."
"The Alien? I'm surprised you kept her. More that none of you picked up the prejudices in the city." Gothe pointed out. The boss smiled a little in agreement.
"My parents didn't think much of discrimination. I guess it's where I got it from." Marius shrugged. "Besides, she joined the group before I did."
The Boss looked at Marius intently. "What's your last name?"
"Altaire." Marius responded, hesitantly.
Gothe and the Boss exchanged a long, serious look.
"Toss that up!" Beriven said, from the top of the ladder.
Thug nodded and threw up a small bundle, letting it arc so that it just barely reached Beriven's outstretched hands. He smiled and chucked it to the side, and held out his hands again.
"Throw it harder this time, you little girl." Beriven said.
Thug scowled and glared at Beriven for a moment, before picking up the other bundle and lobbing it hard at Beriven.
Beriven gave up trying to catch it and ducked behind the ledge, as the bundle flew over his head and skidded across the rooftop.
"That any better, Berry?" Thug asked, as he started climbing the ladder.
"Yeah. Getting pegged in the head by a sleeping bag is way better than falling down that ledge." Beriven admitted. "So we'll start watching the south end. It's the best way to get here from the high roads. We'll do it in fifteen minute swaps."
"What do we do if we spot him?"
"That depends. If he approaches, we let him inside. If he doesn't, we have to sneak up and corner him." Beriven replied.
"Why, Berry?" Thug asked.
"Because if he decides he wants to go tell other orphans about us, we have to be able to stop him." Berry insisted.
"What do you think we're going to do, Berry? We're not killers!" Thug exclaimed.
"Of course not. But if he runs away before we get him on side, this life we have is over! Dead and gone, Thug!" Beriven hissed. "Do you want to be back on the streets, digging through garbage, begging and stealing?"
"Hell no." Thug said breathlessly.
"Then we have to do whatever it takes, Thug. I'll kill him if it keeps us safe." Beriven insisted.
"Berry..." Thug whispered, worried.
"He has to know we're serious, Thug. This isn't a kid's game. This is our life, our home, that he's threatening."
"I know." Thug said. "But I don't have to like it."
They sat in silence a little while longer, watching the unmoving shadows beyond the other rooftops for any sign of movement.
The night air was cold, bitterly so, and Thug was grateful for the sleeping bag that kept him warm.
"I'm glad Merry isn't here right now. He'd raise a stink about this like no one else." Beriven admitted.
"Have we talked about what we're doing with him?" Thug asked.
"Merry and Mystery were talking. They should come up with something we can use as a carrot." Beriven replied.
"I hope so. Because I don't like this." Thug said.
"Neither do I. Someone knows a great deal about us, enough to tip this Damos off. And if Marius is right about who he is, this could be more trouble than we can handle." Beriven agreed.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we might have ticked off the Boss."
The blood in Thug's face fled.
"You think this is because we lied to his thugs?" Thug asked, after a moment.
"I don't know." Beriven admitted. "There's a bunch of things that don't make sense, and I need my hands on Damos to answer them. We have to get him Thug, one way or another."
Thug reluctantly nodded.
Marius stared sharply between the two men, blood rushing through his ears as he clenched the edge of the table.
"You knew my parents?"
The Boss nodded to Gothe and leaned back. "We did, son." Gothe started, a hitch in his voice. "I was rather fond of them. Had a crush on your mother a few years before you were born. Loosing her to a farmer rubs my sensibilities the wrong way."
"He was your father's best man." The Boss added, with a grin. "I didn't know either of them very well. We did business together, but not much more."
"Gizka barf." Gothe scathed. "There were a dozen farms closer than theirs, and most of them offered cheaper produce."
"With child labour. I didn't wage a war against that kind of scum just so I could sponsor it outside the city." The Boss insisted.
"I've never understood morality from you. You run a crime syndicate. How do you send your thugs for protection payments from the city, and still justify that sort of moral boundary?" Gothe asked.
"The Boss protects his city." Marius said, softy. "Anyone who pays for protection gets it. Asides from having your pockets picked by an orphan, no one will kick in your doors or beat you senseless on the streets. Everyone knows it. It's why we can steal and beg in this city, because everyone's kept safe."
"Do people choose wether or not they pay for your protection?" Gothe asked.
"Of course not. Everyone's taxed, and everyone pays. Though no one pays what they can't afford." The Boss replied.
"Why is that?"
"Because killing a cow for a cup of milk wastes the barrel it will produce next year." The Boss explained.
"I suppose you send an accountant with your thugs?" Gothe asked.
"Of course." The Boss replied.
"Wait, when did you start your war against the slavery syndicates?" Marius asked.
"Around three years ago." The Boss replied.
"Did they ever try to force your hand by monopolizing an industry? You said there were lots of farmers that you weren't buying from, because they used child slaves." Marius asked.
The Boss scowled. "You're almost too clever, Marius."
"So my parents were murdered by slavers, who were prompted to kill them by your war against them." Marius said, slowly.
"They were. I'm sorry for that." The Boss said.
"How was it your fault?" Marius asked, quickly.
"If I hadn't started this war, your parents wouldn't have been attacked." The Boss replied. "They wouldn't have died."
"I don't get why you say that." Marius insisted. "You didn't order the attack, you didn't commit the crime. Those slavers did it."
The Boss sighed. "I see that childishness in you at last. I was beginning to wonder." He paused, staring at the table for a long moment, before speaking again. "It's the guilt of command, of influence. When your actions have widespread consequence, you need to choose what you do, or tell others to do, extremely carefully. I chose to crush the slave trade, which prompted them to fight back. As a tactic, they saw an advantage in killing your parents, and a few other farmers who were not benefiting the slave trade. A tactic chosen out of necessity, the necessity of fighting the war I initiated."
"In that, I am guilty of prompting them to find advantage in killing your parents. I am also guilty of not having foreseen that, and protecting them."
Marius shook his head almost immediately, muttering 'no no no'.
"It's true. Ultimately, they died because I started a war."
Again, Marius fiercely shook his head. "No, sir. They died because someone chose to kill them." Marius responded finally, his brow wrinkling as he stared hard at the Don of Vos Ma'ar. "You're not, what's the word, omnipotent. You're not responsible for someone else's decisions."
Gothe's eyes went wide, and the Boss nodded softly, solemnly. "I apologize, for calling that comment childish. Though I suggest we bring this up again, if you ever end up in command. If you cannot bear responsibility for your subordinates, you should not be ordering them."
"Who said that?" Gothe asked.
"Martiam Verre." The Boss replied. He looked over at Marius, and added "The Lord Iniquitus' chief General during the conquest of the City States, and afterwards during the final War with the Thousand Year Emperor.
"You knew General Verre?" Gothe exclaimed.
The Boss nodded, solemnly.
"More shocks tonight then in a case of Antilian Gin." Gothe muttered to himself.
"Is this kid ever going to show?" Thug asked, after fidgeting again from his perch on the ledge. "I swear it's been seven hours."
"This is your third watch, Thug. We only do fifteen minute shifts. Since I did the first watch, it means we haven't done an hour and a half yet."
"Well it feels like seven hours." Thug insisted, though without quite as much conviction. "Do you think he'll even come?"
"Oh, I know it." Beriven said, smugly.
"How do you know that?" Thug asked, bemused.
"Because if you were doing your job right now, you'd know it too." Beriven said, pointing to a rooftop a few buildings away.
"What? No one's there." Thug exclaimed.
"No, the building after that one. There's a small shape on the left side of the building."
"You can see that far?" Thug said, his eyes wide. "That's nuts, Berry."
"I can't tell that it's him, it's just this grey fuzzy cloud. It's almost not seeing, but knowing that something's there. Except that I know I'm looking, rather than thinking. It's hard to explain."
"You're crazy, you know." Thug said, lamely.
"Just watch. You should see him step into the light at the end of the building now." Beriven insisted.
They watched for a moment, as a shadow suddenly stepped into the lights along the edge of the roof. The shape was hardly taller than the railings around the building, which they knew were about the height of a small child.
"That'll be him." Beriven said smugly.
"You're still crazy, Berry." Thug insisted.
Beriven shrugged, as Thug wormed himself down from his perch. The two boys climbed along the roof, careful to avoid the light.
The boys crept towards a small piece of metal tubing that extended between the warehouses. As they got close, Beriven held his hand out with the palm straight up, pointing to the ledge with his other hand.
Thug nodded, and moved to one side.
Both boys crouched, and slipped into silent impatience as they struggled to hear over their own pounding hearts. Thug was visibly shaking as he hid, and he held on to the ledge with a grip that left his knuckles white.
Beriven had wore a fierce, predatory grin on his face, and the excitement left him only a heartbeat away from leaping out.
Despite this, the boys waited silently as Damos slowly crawled onto the roof, and stood up. He had enough time to take two slow, quiet steps.
Thug was on him almost instantly, with a leaping tackle that took the smaller boy completely unawares. Damos was knocked off his feet, and skidded along the roof, Thug on top him.
Beriven leapt into the fray, forcing Damos back down as he tried to push himself away from Thug. Damos reached for Thug's face, trying to jab him in the eye with a finger, but Thug rolled away quickly. Beriven was quick to use the opening, putting his knee against Damos' exposed throat, and rested his other foot on top of his victim's left arm. Thug joined in pinning him in place, and after a few futile attempts, Damos stopped struggling.
"What are you doing?" Damos rasped, his breathing labored.
"That's my question." Beriven said in response. He eased some weight off of Damos' throat, and let him take a few deep breaths. "What are you doing out here?"
"Whatever I like. What's it to you?" Damos said, the anger making his voice quake. "No one mugs people in this city. The Boss will kill you all for this."
"Not if I just toss you off the roof right now." Beriven said quickly. The predatory grin he had been wearing reached his eyes as he spoke.
"Besides, we're just protecting ourselves from some dirty orphan thief." Thug added, though as he spoke, Beriven looked at him sharply.
"Five months ago, Thug, we weren't any different." Beriven said, softly. He looked surprised as he spoke, as if just realizing the truth of it himself. He fell backwards, off of Damos entirely. Thug, looking confused, followed suit.
"Ah, gizka barf, I'm an idiot." Beriven muttered to himself. He shook his head and pointed at Damos. "I'm sorry. You can stand up, if you like. We won't do that again."
"Berry..." Thug started, staring at Beriven intently.
"I just realised something, Thug." Beriven said, softly. Damos stared intently, and Thug looked as if Beriven had just grown a foot.
"Virtue is made in community." Beriven said, wistfully staring out into the night.
"Think for a moment, about how well you know Beriven. What do you think he will do with Damos?" The Boss asked.
Marius paused and took a deep breath. "He'll probably take Thug up to the roof, and catch him. Berry takes threats seriously. After that, if he can't threaten Damos into silence, well, I hope he takes him inside and talks to Mystery. I really don't know what he'll do otherwise."
"If I told you Beriven has killed before? Would that change your answer?" The Boss asked.
"What?" Marius asked, his jaw slack and his eyes wide.
"The details of it aren't for me to relate. If you can, you should avoid treating Beriven as if you knew this. If it weren't so important to your situation, I wouldn't mention it." The Boss explained, slowly.
Marius stared at the floor for a moment, before nodding. "Okay. It does."
"How so?"
"He'd kill him, if he thinks he doesn't have another option. Knowing Berry, he'd send Thug down from the roof, probably to go get Mystery, and then throw Damos over the ledge." Marius shook himself, and said "He'd tell the others that Damos broke free, ran for it, and slipped. They'd believe it, and Berry would just shoulder the guilt. He's like that."
"Would he feel guilt?" The Boss asked, quietly. He leaned forward as he spoke, and the unusual interest he displayed put Marius on guard.
"Yeah, he would." Marius said, fiercely.
"So here comes the million cubit question. Knowing all of this, do you want to run back and try to save Damos? You might be able to save a life, and spare your friends the worst of my wraith, if you do."
Marius thought for a moment, then grinned back at the Don of Vos Ma'ar. "No."
Gothe grinned, and the Boss raised an eyebrow.
"You're not worried about them?"
"Nope." Marius said, a wide smile on his face. "If Berry's ever killed before, he must have had a reason for it. He isn't sick, after all. He's kind, and he cares about his friends. Enough that he'd kill someone to keep us safe, if he had to. But he doesn't, and he and the rest of us know it."
Marius held up a hand for a moment, and added "In fact, if he could, he'd help Damos. We all would. And I think you'll believe it, when they prove to you that they aren't willing to kill him."
"Damos won't just knock on the front door and ask." The Boss replied, after a moment. "He'll sneak, and try to look at what you all have. If you catch him that way, are you sure your friends won't do something reckless?"
"I trust them. Besides, we're clean and fed. We're less desperate than we used to be. We're less inclined to lash out at something we're afraid of."
The Boss smiled. "We'll see."
"What the hell does that mean?" Thug asked.
"It means people aren't born nice, Thug. Well, a few people are. I bet Merry was. But most people become nice because it's the way they were taught. Most people are cowards, but learn how to be brave. Most people are stupid, but learn how to be smart." Beriven explained.
"What does that have to do with anything, Berry?" Thug asked, confused and more than a little irritated.
"Nothing and everything." Beriven answered. "But it does mean that we shouldn't throw Damos off the roof just because he scared us." He turned to Damos "do you want some dinner?" he asked, holding out his hand.
Damos took it and stood up. "I'd love some." He said gratefully. The two of them turned and walked back inside.
Thug followed behind them, with a bemused grin on his face.