An incoherent expression was all the warning I had before a rickety wagon wheel threw mud at me. I leaped back to avoid having a foot crushed. Wiping the cold clinging stuff from my chest, I shook my fist at the retreating wagon. The old man hadn’t even slowed down. I had forgotten how little people cared for each other in the cities.

A heavy hand clapped down on my shoulder. “Here now, you’re not causing trouble, are you?”

I found myself face to face with a dour face city guard with a great gray mustache.

“Not even a hint of it, Lawkeeper.” I said, pressing my knuckles to my forehead.

“Good, it’s dunghill of a day. I’d be loathe to do actual work in this weather, just because a merchant felt he had been slighted.”

His eyes held mine for a moment until we both nodded slightly.

“Thanks.” I said.

“For what? I’m protecting all the members of the city, regardless of what colors they wear. No one is above the law . . . for now.”

Leaving me to mull that thought, the Lawkeeper disappeared into the fog.