“To settle, aye?” The barman raised an eyebrow that spoke more about his demeanour than his myriad tattoos and scars.

“What happened to no questions?” Arden rolled his eyes.

“It’s a saying, Mr Janelle, and one Jack knows all too well.” Leopold nodded to the barman and set the glass back onto the bar. “In these particular circles it suggests the origin of the ownership of prospective purchases needn’t be discussed.”

“I ain’t a hawker, Rook.” Jack thawed. “But I might have something up your street.”

“Tell us, we’re all ears.”

“You know Teeter Street? Runs east off Albany Road and curves into a quaint little cul de sac of miscreant nobles not fit for purpose on the upper hillside.”

Leopold strained to remember the map of Radasanth he tried to keep vivid in his mind, and when he saw the cul de sac, and it’s decaying boulevard he smiled. He had spent many a misbegotten night there entertaining some bastard or another in the game of cards he had played to keep his business afloat too many moons ago to remember.

“It’s not too bad a neighbourhood, for this time of year.”

“Well, on the corner between Teeter and Albany there’s a corner house, stands tall over the crossroads with bay windows that self-righteous housewives would kill to look out of.”

“Oh, the Priory? Or whatever it’s called.”

“Priory Manor, the former owner wasn’t one for imaginative naming.” Jack smirked and refilled their glasses.

“Isn’t that where that vicar went mad?”

“Not quite mad, Mr Janelle, just a little deranged.” The truth of it was he had gone well beyond mad and into demonic. The cackles still haunted the nightmares of the former clergyman’s neighbours to the point where they were positive, he was still living there. “Last I heard he was in Lornius, but I guess the jury’s out on that now after the eruption.”

“It’s on the market. For once, it’s on the market legitimately, but nobody wants to buy it because of all the commotion about ghosts and an abattoir in the basement.”

Arden took the whiskey and mimicked Leopold’s enthusiasm for a quick, warm, hit of strong liquor. Though his stomach was sturdier than the rest of the troupe, the thought of taking Ruby’s boot to the groin when she discovered they’d brought a haunted house terrified him.

“She won’t like it.”

“My wife wanted a playhouse, so a playhouse she will get.”

“It’s grand for that sort of thing, four stories, high ceilings, and you can use the roof if you sort of the pigeon coops.”

“Let’s worry about the décor after, how much?”

Jack nodded. He remembered Leopold was a man of action. He looked around the bar at his patrons and waited for a suitable increment in the cheering and banter.

“Four thousand.”

“Four thousand what?”

“Never mind what, that sounds suspiciously cheap.” Arden did some math and didn’t like the answer.

“Four thousand scorners.”

“Ah, that’s more like it.”

“Jack. That’s a pretty penny and then some. Whose selling?”

“Leopold, scorners aren’t that hard to come by if you have the right connections.” Arden had a hand in the black market of Scara Brae for decades. Scorners, as they were affectionately called was the underhand currency of people who wanted to sell things outside the purview of the tax collectors. “Seems a fair price.”

“We’d need time.” Leopold wasn’t sure how much time Ruby would tolerate. “What’re our options?”

“I was about to tell you It’s being sold by Lord Regent. Acquired it in a game of cards, as everything he owns. Talk to him if you want to try and bargain.” Jack shrugged. “It’s your neck if you do.”

“Who’se Lord Regent?” Arden knew in asking he’d be disappointed. “Is he big news?”

“He’s the Radasanth equivalent of…well, of you. Right hand man to the Broker, a shadow figurehead people seem to think is one of the Senate.”

“Politics doesn’t belong in petty crime.”

“Tell him that when we see him.”

Jack scoffed. “Good luck with that. Nobody talks to the Broker, not even Regent.”

“Jack. You’ve known me for what, thirty years?” Leopold smiled warmly. “I have an excellent penchant for finding myself in company that would rather not have me. We’ll sort out the deal, and you’ll get your fair share as is custom.”

As Leopold stood, Arden followed, and they bowed politely to their host.

“Usual method?”

“Of course. I can’t get my hands on Salvarian fire water any other way.”

With business concluded, Jack returned to his rounds and Leopold and Arden left quickly. This pub, as with any in Radasanth was not somewhere you lingered after conducting business for fear of a dagger in the ribs and your hard-earned leverage pried from your dead fingers. When they were safely out of sight, Leopold let out a long, desperate breath.

“That wasn’t too hard.”

“Oh shut up, you practically shat yourself when he started to size you up.”

“Tosh. He does that, got to look brave in front of the spies who were watching us from the north corner.”

“I saw. Anyone we know?”

“Lord Regent is by now already preparing for our arrival. If you see a cosh swinging your way let it happen, it’s his polite welcome wagon and you’ll only be out cold for an hour or two.”

Arden grit his teeth, wishing once again he’d asked all the right questions before agreeing to being complicit in another Winchester prorogue.