Hakiem felt a moment of sympathy for the little Beysib. Monkel Setmur wasunaccustomed to dealing with those who specialized in words, much less those whohabitually honed their tongues to razor-sharpness. It was clear that Jubal wasin a bad mood and ready to vent his annoyance on his hapless visitor.
"Surely you can't hold Monkel here responsible for ..."
"Stay out of this, old one," Jubal snapped, stopping Hakiem's attempted defensewith a suddenly pointing finger. "Speaking for the Beysib has become a habitwith you which would be better broken. I wish to hear Lord Setmur's thoughtsdirectly."
Sketching a bow so formal it reeked of sarcasm, Hakiem lapsed into silence. Intruth, he himself was curious about the reason behind Monkel's visit. The Beysibhad sought out Hakiem to arrange an audience with Jubal, but had steadfastlyrefused to reveal his motive.
The Beysib licked his lips nervously, then locked gazes with the ex-crimelordand straightened his back proudly.
"One hears that you have power in the streets of Sanctuary ... and that of thegang leaders, you are the only one whose favor can be bought."
Hakiem winced inwardly. If Monkel had intended to make an enemy of Jubal, hecould not have picked a better opening gambit. The diplomat in him wanted toclose his eyes and avoid the sight of Jubal's response to this insult, but thestoryteller part of him required that he witness every detail and nuance.
To his surprise, Jubal did not immediately lash out in anger ... either verballyor physically.
"That is a common misconception," he said instead, nodding slowly. "In truth, I