Malden jumped down from the seat of his wagon and walked around to the back. He shoved the straw away and let the three men sit up. As they rubbed at their numb faces and shook out their deadened legs, he studied them carefully. They were scrawny, shortish men dressed in dirty clothing. They didn’t look like much at all. He knew their type all too well. Men broken down by poverty until they were willing to take the risk of being hanged rather than go another day without coin. Men who labored at menial jobs when they could, or relied on their families for a few coppers to keep them from starving to death when no work was available. Men who had spent every day looking at the houses of rich merchants and wondering why fate had denied them such luxury and comfort. One of them, Malden knew, was a cousin of Doral Knackerson’s valet. It had been his brilliant idea to buy off the servants and burgle the rich man’s house. It must have seemed like such a foolproof plan.

“I’ve taken your weapons, and the few coins you had on you,” he told them. “The drug I gave you has no lasting effect, but it will leave you weak for tonight. I really don’t recommend making a fuss now. You’ve been given a second chance and I hope you will all take it. The job you did tonight was a clumsy affair, poorly planned out and executed with only a modicum of skill. It was enough, however, to gain the notice of my employer.”

The three of them stared at him. One of them mouthed Cutbill, but was smart enough not to breathe the name aloud.

Malden nodded. “You may know that he runs all the crime in this town. You three thought you could go into business for yourselves. That shows initiative, but also stupidity. No one steals a copper farthing in the Free City of Ness without attracting his attention.