Simon broke out into song. Her face puckered as his intentional off-key notes rang her eardrums. The birds in the trees surrounding them screeched at the sound.
“Bloody hell, Simon! Are you trying to make me go deaf?”
“I’ll stop if you tell me about yourself.”
“I won’t. Just stop singing.”
His voice cracked as his next song started up.
“Fine!” she shouted above his singing, this time fighting the smile his antics enticed again. As furious as she was with him, and though she would never tell him, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit he was terribly entertaining. “I’ll do anything to make that stop. What do you want to know?”
Simon grinned, and his irritatingly charming smile chipped away more of her walls. “Hmmmm... what do I want to know? Where did you grow up?”
“London as well.”
“You did?” he asked, genuine interest peaking his brows. “Perhaps we met at one point.”
“I doubt it. I grew up in a brothel.”
“As did I,” he responded.
Her head snapped around. “What? You?”
He nodded. “My mother was a prostitute. I grew up on the north side of London in Bawd Bitty’s house. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but they had a separate part of the house for children so we weren’t exposed to the worst of it. We had a teacher and got schooling. It could have been much worse. My mother did the best she could with her misfortunes.”
“I didn’t know,” she said. “I grew up on the south side. First in my family’s home. We were poor, but we had a roof over our head most days. Food was scarce, but we got by. Then when I was thirteen, I was sold to Bawd Elsbeth.”
“Sold?” he choked.
Vivian could only nod. The memory would be forever seared in her mind. She had sobbed as her mother handed her over to a stranger. Bawd Elsbeth had dragged her kicking and screaming into the house and tossed a bag of coins into her mother’s waiting hands. Not even a tear had streaked her mother’s cheeks before the door closed, sealing Vivian away from everything she’d ever known. She’d cried for days curled up in a ball hidden beneath the bed in the small room they stuffed her in.
“I’m so sorry, Vivian. That’s awful.” Simon’s eyes welled with sympathy.
“It was a long time ago,” she said, pushing the pain back into the pit where she left it to rot. “I was allowed to live there for two years before my virginity was sold at auction. I became her prized harlot, her top earner. She was an evil woman.” Vivian glared at the thought of her.
“When you got older, why did you stay?” he asked.
“Because I didn’t know any other way. Once I was sold, who would want me for a wife? I was trapped. So, for the next decade I worked for her and made her lots of money.”
“How did you get out?”
She smiled. “Viktor.”
“Viktor?”
“Yes. He had become a regular customer. He happened to be in the brothel the night I found Bawd Elsbeth dead.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, likely from natural causes. She was just lying in her bed unresponsive. I ran to Viktor and asked him what to do. He came up with the plan that secured me my current position as bawd.”
“What did he do?” Simon asked, his curiosity bubbling.
Vivian smiled at the memory. “Well, as her top earner, I was essentially second in command. From time to time when she traveled she left me in charge. So, Viktor had an idea. He helped me dispose of the body. Together we made up a story that she had left unexpectedly in the night and was leaving me in charge for a few weeks. Weeks went by and she didn’t return and no one really questioned it. I just took over.”
“No one wondered what happened to her?” Simon laughed.
Vivian cracked a smile. “She was a bitch, and no one missed her. I treated the girls like equals. They were thrilled to have her gone and after a few months of pretending we were waiting for her to return, I just called myself the bawd and kept business running as usual. I’ve been in charge ever since.”
Simon smiled and shook his head. “So that’s how you became the youngest and most beautiful bawd in history.”
“Most beautiful?” She arched an eyebrow.
Simon dropped his eyes, clearing his throat. “Most bawds are old and well past their prime. You, are anything but.”
Vivian smiled.
“There. A smile.”
She concealed it as quick as it came. “Well, now you know my story.”
“Part of your story. I’m sure there is much more to you than just that little tidbit. But now I at least know how you and Viktor began your friendship. He helped you get out from under everyone else’s control.”
“He freed me. He gave me everything. Without him, I would still be lying under cull after cull, handing my money over to some thankless old whore.”
Crack.
Vivian spun to the noise in the woods. Simon had drawn his sword before she even snapped her head around to the sound. Four horses leapt out of the bushes, the sound of their hooves thundering as they galloped toward them. Four men, dressed in the blue and red uniforms of the men hunting her before, sat astride the charging horses.
“Run, Viv!” Simon shouted. He spun his gelding around and charged at the group of men roaring toward them.
“Shite!” Vivian shouted. Her horse tried to follow but a pull on the reins urged the mare to veer away from the approaching men. Kicking her legs against her sides, she pushed the horse off into the field away from the clashing of swords ringing behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Simon slice his sword through the neck of a man, sending him tumbling to the ground in a bloody heap.
Her heart hammered in her chest with the thundering of her horse’s hooves while they tore away from the battle behind them. Guilt twisted in her stomach when she heard a cry of agony behind her. Was that Simon? Has he been captured? Injured? Killed? She tried to look back but the bodies now clashed on the ground; it was impossible to see if Simon was all right. Remorse plucked away at the few strings of compassion left in her and caused her to pull up on the reins. Her mare skidded to a halt. Should I go back?
Spinning her horse around, she tried to make sense of the battle raging between the men. Relief washed over her when a body dropped and Simon rose from the ground until he towered over the last man. He was alive. Blood dripped from the sword he raised over his head. Rage reverberated around him like a shield, exploding off him in waves. Even from this distance she could see the fire in his eyes, feel the power radiating off him. A shiver snaked up her spine when she saw him leap in the air, a roar pushing from his lungs. With his impressive height dwarfing the last man, the extra leap almost sent him over the man’s head. Raw power exploded through his arm when he descended on him, plunging his blade through the man’s chest.
Gasping, she clutched her chest as he rose slowly from the pile of bodies at his feet. His broad shoulders heaved with each breath while he scoured the carnage beneath him. Burning eyes lifted to meet her own. Vivian swallowed hard at the sight of the powerful warrior. Viktor had not been mistaken when he’s promised her safety at Simon’s side.
The commanding look on his face shifted, a look of fear replacing it. “Vivian! Look out!” he shouted.
Vivian turned, fear blanching her expression. She had no time to react. The attacker burst from the bushes, launching in the air and tackling her off her horse. Pain exploded through her body when she collided with the ground. Brushing it aside, she gave full focus to the attacker on top of her. She struggled to free herself, sliding her dagger from its sheath. A quick swipe with it caught him in the cheek and sent him howling backward in pain.
She jumped to her feet, her sword now drawn and readied. From the corner of her eye she saw Simon charging across the field toward her. The man touched his bloodied cheek and snarled. Vivian readied herself when she saw his sword raise. Simon wouldn’t make it in time.
He swung his sword at her, b
ut anger made his attempt wild and unwieldy. Vivian caught the cold steel with her own, the clanking of metal ringing in her ears. He lunged at her a second time. She deflected another blow, then another. Simon closed the distance, but still too far to help her now. The lessons Viktor taught her came flooding back. Use his anger and his strength against him.
His big, slow body could be used to Vivian’s advantage. She waited for his next attack. Anger seethed from behind his eyes when he swung at her with the full weight of his lumbering frame. This time she ducked his swing. Popping up at his side, she plunged her sword deep into his belly. He stumbled backward, fear and disbelief washing over his face when he looked up at her. There was no time for sympathy, no time for guilt. Never hesitate. Viktor’s words rang in her ears. With one quick movement, she slashed her dagger across his throat. He crumpled to his knees and collapsed in a heap at her feet.
“Vivian!” Simon shouted. He made it to her side in several more strides.
Strong arms captured her and pulled her tight to his chest, spinning her so his body shielded her from the man choking his last breath. Vivian melted into him, pushing into his hold and letting out a deep sigh, dissolving into his protective embrace.
“Vivian, are you hurt? Are you all right?” Simon grabbed her face and scoured every inch of her body.
“Yes. I’m fine. I can’t believe... are you hurt?” she stammered. Blood splattered his clothes and face, though she wasn’t sure if it was his own or that of his multiple victims.
“No. Not a scratch on me.” He smirked. “It will take a lot more men than that to put a nick on this skin.”
She cracked a smile and pulled back just far enough to look up into his face, finding the warrior that was there just moments ago had fled the scene of the carnage. This version of Simon, the one that held her tight in his arms, was warm and caring. The lines of determination and fury that had been etched on his face had softened again and the eyes that had burned with rage were now soft and searching her own.
“Thank you,” she said.
“No need to thank me. Looks like you had this one handled all on your own.” He glanced over to the body crumpled in the grass.
Vivian followed his gaze and shuddered at the sight of the blood.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” he asked.
“Viktor.”
She could swear something flashed in the depths of his eyes. A coldness moved in, but for a moment.
“He taught you well. I have to admit I’m impressed.”
“I only know a little. He taught me the basics to protect myself. I’ve been in a few fights at his side, but this is the first man I have killed.”
Killed. The word stuck on her tongue. She had killed a man. The feelings swirling around in her were foreign though guilt wasn’t one of them. Her attacker had viciously tried to murder her in cold blood, and he deserved his fate. Taking a life, though, felt different than she had imagined. A chill washed over her.
“You never forget your first.”
Vivian could only nod. She was certain she would never forget this day... or this moment. She looked back up into his eyes before pulling herself out of his embrace.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” he asked, looking her up and down.
“I’m sure.”
“You know, with a little more training you could give Charlie a run for her money.”
“Charlie?” she scoffed. “I’ve never seen her fight but I’ve heard stories of her lethal ways. I wouldn’t dare compare myself to her.”
She had met Charlie several times and had a deep affection for her. In the other woman, Vivian found a kindred spirit, out fighting the world and forging her own way, just like Vivian had done. Charlie did it with daggers; Vivian used her wiles. She shook her head, thinking she could never be as lethal as Charlie.
“You should let me teach you a few things,” he continued. “You never know. You may need to save my life someday.”
She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “I saw you fight out there. You won’t ever need me to save you. Viktor wasn’t kidding when he said you could crush a man’s skull with your bare hands. You looked like a lion having his way with a flock of sheep.”
Simon puffed his chest and smiled. “All in a day’s work.” He wiped the blood off his sword and slid it back into the sheath. Vivian followed suit and wiped down her own weapons. She could feel the warmth of the blood still wet on her blade. It caused another shudder.
“Well, if there was any question as to the validity of that map you’re dragging around, I think this answered it. Men don’t stalk the countryside in search of a worthless piece of paper.”
“No, they don’t. Do you really think this will lead us to treasure, Simon?”
“I certainly hope so. But first, we need to stay alive and get the other half of that map.”
“Perhaps easier said than done.” She looked at the bodies piled out in the field.
“Then we had best get a move on. We need to get to Liverpool and hope that Tristen has a lock on the other piece of that map.”
He grabbed her mare’s reins and pulled her to his side. She put her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself into the saddle. After swinging up on his gelding, he pulled the horse up beside her.
“Let’s hope the rest of our ride is a little less exciting,” he said with a smile. “Stay close. I’ll keep you safe.”
The words caused a flutter in her heart. She believed him. For only the second time in her life, she felt safe with someone.
CHAPTER FIVE
SIMON SCANNED THE TAVERN from their corner table. A small inn just east of Liverpool, this establishment had been the scene for many clandestine meetings for the Liberta. It was secluded from the business of the city, yet close enough to get in and out quickly when needed. This was the place his note told their contact to meet him. Since arriving several hours ago, a steady stream of patrons had come and gone, but there was no sign of Tristen.
“Exactly who are we looking for?” Vivian asked, taking a sip of her ale.
“My contact, Tristen.” He continued searching the faces in the room.
“I know that part. What does he look like?”
A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “That is a very good question, actually.”
Vivian pinched her brows together. “You don’t know what he looks like? I thought you said this was your regular contact. You’ve never met him?”
“Oh, I’ve met Tristen... many times. What he will look like today though is anyone’s guess.”
“I’m not following.”
Simon chuckled. The puzzled look on Vivian’s face mirrored the look he wore many times when meeting with Tristen. “Tristen is a master of disguise. His talents at transforming himself are unparalleled. Honestly, he could be any one of these patrons.”
Vivian’s eyes widened. “Really? What about that old woman?” She pointed to a hunched-up woman nibbling bread and cheese on the opposite side of the room.
Simon nodded. “Yep. That could be him.”
“You must be joking.” She sat back in her chair.
He shook his head. “I wish I was. He may be sitting here in this very room.”
“Is he old?”
“No, he’s about the same age as us.”
“Then how can he pass himself off as an old woman?”
“I wish I knew the answer to his tricks,” he laughed. “I’ve seen him as old men, old women, young men, young women, priests, royalty, and once as a very attractive courtesan.”
Vivian’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. I almost paid to take him to bed. Tristen is a man of many talents.”
She smiled. “Any man who can pass himself off as a half-decent courtesan is one I can’t wait to meet.”
The door swung open. Both of their heads turned to meet it. Tristen strode in, his eyes searching the room. Simon’s face fell at the sight of him. There was no disguise th
is time, and he felt disappointed there wouldn’t be a big surprise when he finally revealed himself. Figuring out the latest ruse was half the fun of meeting up with him.
Tristen met his eyes and grinned a wide smile. His white teeth flashed beneath olive skin. It was so rare to see him without costume, Simon had almost forgotten what he actually looked like.
“Is that him?” Vivian asked, eying the man approaching them up and down.
“Yes, and unfortunately he hasn’t surprised us with one of his intriguing costumes.”
“I think you were pulling my leg,” she said, arching an eyebrow.
“Truly, I wasn’t. It’s a rarity to see him in all his natural glory.”
“Glory is right.” Vivian blew out an appreciative breath at the attractive man approaching. Simon furrowed his brow at the sight of her drinking him in while he approached.
“Hello, friend!” Tristen beamed when he reached the table. He extended a hand that Simon enveloped in a firm grasp.
“No disguise today, Tristen?” Simon tipped his head and released his hand.
Tristen flipped a chair around and sat down, leaning his elbows onto the high back and clasping his fingers together.
“Sorry to disappoint. I’m in town on legitimate business as myself so there wasn’t a need this time. Just a couple of old friends meeting up for an ale. Barkeep?” He lifted his hand and flagged her down. “We’ll have another round. I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
The young woman nodded and made her way through the crowd toward the bar.
Simon leaned back and crossed his arms. “I have to admit I’m disappointed. I was convinced you were already in here. I actually thought perhaps you were that old woman over there.”
Tristen looked over at the woman still nibbling her bread. “Her?” He laughed and scrunched his forehead. “I suppose. With a bit of makeup, some fake skin... yeah, I can see that.”
“So he wasn’t lying?” Vivian asked, her eyes searching every nuance of his face.
Soft brown waves bounced when Tristen shook his head. “There is no deceit in his words. I am Tristen, Master of Disguise. And who, may I ask, is this exquisite creature?”
By The Assassin's Side (Daggers 0f Desire Book 3) Page 5
