by Robert Evert
Natalie felt relieved, though she didn’t know why. Rebuilding a stable would be costly, and Henry wasn’t a rich man. Still, at least he was alive, and that was one less thing to worry about. Perhaps she could give him some money to help rebuild.
“So what will you do?” Hadley asked again. “Will you stay here? ’Cause if you come back, you know you can always stay with me or Ida until you get a new job and get settled in and everything.”
“Thanks, Had.” They hugged. “For everything.” Natalie tightened her embrace. “I’m really sorry if I ever took you or Ida for granted, or ever acted like a…well, like a pain in the ass.”
“You’re wonderful, Nat.” Hadley touched Natalie’s cheek. “You going to be okay?”
Natalie fought back tears. “I will be.”
“Had!” shouted William from across the street. “Come on!”
“I’d better get going.” Hadley hugged Natalie again. “Stay here for a bit, if you can, and—breathe, or something.”
“Breathe?” Natalie laughed, wiping her eyes.
“Oh, you know what I mean. Relax, and just—just breathe.”
William came up to them. “Hey, Nat,” he said softly. “You okay? Everything all right? You didn’t do anything, well…dangerous last night, did you?”
Natalie shook her head, wanting to avoid another conversation about what had happened. “I’m fine. Sorry about belting you.”
“Don’t give it a second thought. If I had a copper for every woman who slugged me, I’d be a rich man. I’m just glad you’re here and everything.”
“Thanks, Billy.” Natalie made herself smile. “I’m here, and everything.”
Hadley hugged her one last time. “We gotta go. Remember what I said, though.”
“Breathe,” said Natalie.
“Breathe?” William scoffed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Oh, never mind!” Hadley let go of Natalie. “Remember we’re still here for you, okay? And that we all love you.”
“I know. And I love you.”
“All right, then. See you soon?”
“See you soon,” Natalie agreed.
Natalie waved goodbye. Once Hadley and William had disappeared into the crowd, she headed to the Yellow Rose Inn.
She had been around Winros Minor enough to realize that the Yellow Rose was far from being cheap. In fact, next to The Maggie, it was probably the nicest inn in town. Artis undoubtedly could’ve selected something cheaper and less cozy.
Artis…
Now, to deal with him.
• • •
Artis wasn’t in their room. With his stuff still neatly stacked in the corner, it didn’t seem as though he’d been in all night. Natalie sat on the bed, wondering how long she should wait for him. She was getting hungry again, and the day was too beautiful to spend indoors. There wouldn’t be many sunny afternoons like this left in the year. Winters were typically gray and rainy, especially up north in the valley.
The valley…
Would she go back home?
The thought didn’t appeal to her. Too many memories, too many things she was trying to forget. But where else could she go? Staying in Winros Minor was a possibility, but only for the short-term. The constant breeze and those damned bells would eventually drive her crazy. No, she needed forested hills. Nothing else would ever feel right.
Natalie gazed out the window at the people bustling here and there while she tried not to think about anything painful.
Breathe…
What Hadley had said actually made sense. Natalie was just now realizing how long it had been since she had actually breathed deeply without the heavy burden of responsibility crushing her.
There was a tentative knock at the door.
Finally!
“Art, I’m so—” But when Natalie opened the door, something rushed in at her, throwing her back onto the bed. A hand covered her mouth.
“You make a sound and you die.” Brago showed her a curved knife. “Understand?”
Natalie kicked and flailed, but to little effect.
Brago jabbed the knifepoint into the soft flesh under her jawbone. “If you so much as sneeze, I’ll gut you like I did your brother.”
Natalie went rigid, eyes blazing. Brago released his grip over her mouth.
“You”—she panted—“you killed my family!”
“You can thank me later.”
“Thank you?” she shouted.
Brago sneered. “I’ve seen how happy you’ve been since you learned about their deaths—running around, buying pretty dresses; laughing and carrying on. You must feel so unencumbered knowing you don’t have to deal with them anymore.”
Natalie gasped.
Brago laughed. “Not that I blame you. They probably felt like rocks around your neck, slowly pulling you under water as you tried to swim to shore. Why your mother didn’t put that miserable moron out of his misery is beyond me. She should have drowned him the day he was born. It would have been the humane thing to do.”
Natalie lunged, fingers trying to claw out Brago’s eyes, but a hard punch to her nose sent her reeling. Brago straddled her. With her face awash in blood and tears, she desperately tried to pull out her knife, but Brago pinned her arms underneath his knees.
“I didn’t realize outside the library that you were a woman.” He slammed his fist into her mouth, blood splattering across the white sheets. “But I have no problems teaching women how to behave.”
He grabbed Natalie’s hair and wrenched her head so that she looked up at him. “I don’t have to beat you, you know.” He smiled, tracing his knife in a winding line to her heaving chest. “We could either talk, or…” He sliced open the front of her new clothes to reveal her breasts. “We can do something else. You choose.”
Natalie spat out the blood streaming into her mouth. “What the hell do you want from me?”
“Ah, to the point. Very good. You’re going to help me win this quest.”
“Never!”
Brago smacked her again, knocking Natalie’s head to one side. Her eye began to swell.
“You will,” he said softly, “or your boyfriend dies.”
“Boyfriend…?” The fog in Natalie’s throbbing head cleared a little. “Artis? Where is he? You leave him alone!”
Brago cocked his fist and grinned pleasantly. “Keep your voice down, Nat.”
Hearing the bastard use her nickname made Natalie flinch.
“And if you don’t care about losing him,” Brago went on matter-of-factly, “then I’ll be forced to visit sweet little Hadley.” His eyes narrowed. “But don’t worry, I won’t kill her. At least not right away.”
“Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
“You got yourself into this. You shouldn’t have been spying on me in the first place.” He leaned in, his lips caressing her ears, and whispered, “I don’t give a shit whose bitch you are.”
Natalie bucked, trying to kick Brago in the groin, but he only pretended to enjoy it.
“Are you finished?” he asked. “If not, we can stop talking for a while and do other things.”
She stopped thrashing.
“Splendid. Now, this is what you’re going to do.” He produced a folded parchment from inside his cloak. “You’ll give this to Edris and tell him you’d found it under your bed.” He laughed. “Oh, and by the way, never hide valuables under the mattress. It’s the first place people look. That, and beneath loose floorboards.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m going to beat your father and humiliate him, all at the same time.”
Natalie started struggling again, but Brago pushed the knifepoint against her throat. She went still.
“You’ll give your muscle-bound father this paper. Tell him you must have missed it last time you were in your room.”
“But—!”
“And if you utter a single word about our little encounter here, rest assured I’ll hear about it, and you’ll never see
your boyfriend, or Hadley, or Ida, or Henry again. Now, Nat, will you do what I ask, or shall I send you Art’s head?”
Natalie glanced at the paper he was holding. It appeared to be a map, with some writing along its edge.
“Your choice,” Brago went on causally. “The lives of your friends versus a silly harp. Which is more important to you?”
Natalie clenched her teeth.
Brago poked her with the knife again. “I’m terribly sorry, but I need to hear you say it. Will you do what I tell you?”
“Yes.” Natalie sneered.
“And will you tell anybody about our little chat?”
“No.”
“Splendid.” Brago’s eyes slid down to admire her exposed breasts. “Splendid.” Then he looked directly into her eyes. “You do what I want, and you’ll be fine. All I care about is Balen’s harp, understand? Do something dim-witted, and I’ll care about making your life very unpleasant.”
He got off of her.
Natalie immediately sat up, rubbing her arms where his knees had dug into them. Then she felt her nose. It was broken.
“Don’t hurt Artis! Please. He didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t hurt him.”
Brago slid his knife into its sheath and straightened his clothes. “You do what I want, Natalie, and he’ll be fine as well. I only want that damned harp.”
With that, he bowed and left the room—whistling “Ode to the Starflower.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
In her room at the Yellow Rose Inn, Natalie sat scowling at the wall until well after sundown. Blood had stained her new dress, and her face pulsated with pain. She was hungry, too. But what really hurt were Brago’s words echoing in her head: I’ve seen how happy you’ve been since you learned about their deaths—running around, buying pretty dresses; laughing and carrying on. You must feel so unencumbered knowing you don’t have to deal with them anymore.
She unfolded the sheet of paper Brago had left her. It was a map of the Ketterings’ estate. An arrow pointed to some hills five or six miles away. In the margin were faint words: “Secret vault. Below dungeon.”
Natalie’s stomach churned.
Would she give this to Sir Edris?
She had to—otherwise Artis was as good as dead. Besides, it was just a stupid harp. Certainly, Sir Edris and Reg would do the same thing, had their positions been reversed.
Maybe Brago was bluffing. Maybe he didn’t actually have Artis. After all, he hadn’t offered any proof. Maybe Artis would show up any minute, hungover and wanting to talk about his feelings.
The maybes disappeared as Natalie stared at Artis’s pack. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he had been kidnapped. Brago killed her family. He killed innocent children—Jeremy was only three years old, and Brago had burned him alive. He wouldn’t have hesitated to abduct Artis if it suited his purposes. Plus, Artis had probably been drinking all night. It would’ve been easy for somebody to drag him off into some dark alley.
She considered the folded parchment again.
What was she going to do? Sir Edris had been so good to her; he’d literally treated her like a daughter. Could she lie to him?
What other choice did she have?
She could tell Sir Edris about Brago.
And if you utter a single word about our little encounter here, rest assured I’ll hear about it, and you’ll never see your boyfriend, or Hadley, or Ida, or Henry again.
He’d known she’d gone shopping, and he’d known about Hadley and the others. Clearly, he had spies. Still, if she got Sir Edris alone and whispered into his ear about what had happened, maybe he could set some kind of trap for Brago. Or even kill him.
No. If Sir Edris began searching for Artis, Brago would know almost immediately. The bottom line was that Sir Edris had to lose this quest, or Artis would die.
Natalie put her face into her hands, heedless of the pain and the stench of blood. Then something occurred to her…
There was no guarantee Brago would actually release Artis, even after Sir Edris lost the quest. Why would he? That would mean he’d have to watch out for one more enemy. It’d be safer for Brago to simply kill Artis once he no longer needed him. So really, the only options were to either rescue Artis or kill Brago.
No. Rescue Artis and kill Brago. Rescuing Artis would only solve one problem. Brago would still be out there, and he’d be as angry as a kicked hornet’s nest. She’d have to do both.
But how?
First, she had to find Artis.
Where to look for him?
According to Reg, Artis had gone to drink at a place called The Goblin’s Head. From there, he would’ve probably left drunk and been overpowered by Brago. Brago was formidable, but he wasn’t a big man like Sir Edris, so she couldn’t imagine Brago carrying Artis very far, especially if Artis had been putting up a fight. And Brago wouldn’t have wanted people to see him carrying somebody away.
So, Brago would have hit Artis over the head, or wrapped a garrote around his neck, or somehow otherwise subdued him. But then what? He would’ve had to put Artis somewhere safe—somewhere Artis couldn’t escape and nobody could hear his calls for help.
Maybe some house out in the country? A farm, perhaps?
How would Brago have gotten him there without being noticed, though? No, he probably would have tied Artis up and hid him nearby. But where…?
A place where he couldn’t call out for help…
A basement?
Natalie’s head felt like it was splitting open. She couldn’t think straight.
Perhaps Brago had a house somewhere like Sir Edris’s. Somewhere he could go without being noticed. If he did, how could she find out where it was?
The evening was growing old, and Sir Edris was expecting her. Artis would have to wait.
Slowly, Natalie removed her torn, blood-covered dress and washed her swollen face.
Another beating. What else was new?
Wearing her other new dress, she descended the stairs to the inn’s common room, where several people gaped at her, faces contorted in both pity and disgust. Still, nobody said a word.
Outside, a familiar figure sat across from the Yellow Rose Inn, hat in hand, begging for money.
Natalie rushed across the street to confront him. “What’s your real name?” she asked. “Obviously it’s not Nathaniel.”
Upon seeing her, the boy grinned suggestively. “You can call me whatever you’d like. Nathaniel’s a bit unwieldy, but it’s good enough for the likes of me!” Then he shook the patched hat, jingling the three copper pieces he’d amassed. “Got any spare coins?”
“I know you don’t need any, remember? Not unless you’ve spent what Sir Edris gave you last night.”
Nathaniel shushed her, his misaligned eyes darting over to the people passing by. Slowly, his smile returned. “Let’s just keep that little tidbit to ourselves, shall we?” He dumped the copper into his pocket and plopped the hat onto his head. “So, what can I do you for?”
Natalie followed him as he ambled up the street, glancing casually into the store windows.
“I want to find Brago’s house,” she said.
Nathaniel’s stride faltered ever so slightly, but his smile didn’t dim. “Sure! Sure, Nat. Anything for you. But aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”
Natalie studied Nathaniel. Something wasn’t right.
Reg appeared from around a corner. “Nat!” He stopped short. “What the hell happened? Nat, who did that to you?”
Natalie felt her swollen eye. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine!”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Nat, what happened?”
“Looks like you two have things to discuss.” Nathaniel took off his cap and gave a sweeping bow. “I’ll see you all when you need something!”
Natalie wanted to stop the boy, but he’d already disappeared into the bustling crowd.
“Natalie, where’s Art?” Reg asked. “Did he do this to you? Was he
drunk?”
“What?” His question was a quick and easy out, but she refused to take it. “No, of course not. Art would never do that to anybody, especially a woman.”
“Then—?”
“I was robbed,” Natalie said quickly. “I…I was walking back to the inn this morning and, and three men jumped out of an alley and tried to grab me. I fought them off, but not before they did this.” She pointed to her face. “Please, I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Let’s just go. I’m sure Sir Edris is waiting for us.”
She headed for the Old Quarter, Reg hot on her heels.
“Nat, where’s Art?” he asked suspiciously.
“Home.” She corrected herself. “He’s going home, I mean. We talked. He knows how I feel, and he doesn’t want to be around me anymore. He’s gone.”
“Then why don’t I believe you?”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “He didn’t hit me, okay? Trust me. Art is the sweetest, gentlest guy there is; he’d never hurt a fly.” Reg’s expression harbored something other than concern. Envy? Disappointment? Or was it just her imagination? “I was robbed, okay? Let’s go. I have to give something to Sir Edris.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Great gods, Nat!” exclaimed Sir Edris when Natalie came into the room. “What the hell happened to you? Artis didn’t—”
“No!” Natalie dropped her pack to the dirty floor and collapsed into a seat by the wall. “He didn’t touch me; he wouldn’t do that.”
Reg closed and locked the door. “She was robbed,” he said, though he still didn’t sound convinced.
“What! In broad daylight?” Sir Edris huffed. “What’s this city coming to? A few more hangings might make the fiends think twice about attacking young women.” He bent over and examined Natalie’s face. Natalie tried to turn away, but the knight wouldn’t let her. “Reg, get me—”
Reg handed him a pouch.
“Now,” Sir Edris said to Natalie, “this is going to sting a bit.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m—Ow!” Natalie cried. “What are you—?”
“Trust me, this’ll help. I know something about treating wounds.” He dabbed another clot of what looked like brown grease onto Natalie’s forehead, then smeared it around. “There.”
