“You knew it was me?” she asked incredulously. Chad’s expression was equally disbelieving.
The veteran knight nodded, then tapped his nose. “Your smell was very pleasant. Few old men wash their hair with lavender.”
“You recognized my smell?”
Cyhan shook his head. “No, I just knew you weren’t an old man. That meant it was most likely either you or your brother.”
“But you still punched me hard enough to leave what I imagine is going to be a bad bruise,” she bit back.
The big warrior shrugged. “If I had thought you were an enemy, I would have struck hard enough to kill. We had to be certain.”
Chad looked around nervously. “Let’s get off the street.”
A short while later, they were back in their room over the Green Pony. Elaine had removed her illusion and sat on the bed, still rubbing the place on her back. “You knew you were supposed to meet a friend, anyway. Why would you want to take them to an alley and beat them up?”
Cyhan merely shrugged, a faint smile playing across his lips, but Chad was more vocal. “Because ya were actin’ like a fool down there! It only took us ten seconds to decide ya were gonna get us killed and figure we should take care of you first. Besides that, we weren’t there to meet a friend. There are no friends in this sort of work.”
“You were going to kill me?” blurted out Elaine, outraged.
“He was,” said Cyhan. “I was withholding judgment until we knew who you were.”
Her eyes were wide. “So, if it had been a stranger, you would have just murdered him? Just like that?”
The two men’s eyes met for a second, then Chad answered, “Pretty much, yeah.”
“That’s just wrong!” she spluttered.
Chad leaned closer. “No. Walkin’ into a bar and spoutin’ off about ‘murder an’ mayhem,’ that’s wrong. No self respectin’ criminal talks like that. That’s what ya get from readin’ them damn romance books o’ yers.”
Elaine refused to look at him. Cyhan chose to return to more practical matters. “I am more concerned that your illusion may have drawn the attention of the krytek watchers. They would have noticed your use of magic.”
“Shows how much you know,” observed Elaine acerbically. “For a normal wizard, yes, but I’m a Prathion.”
“You weren’t using invisibility,” said Cyhan flatly.
“Our gift is more versatile than that. My illusion was magic, yes, but I layered it with a selective type of invisibility to hide the aythar from magesight. A Prathion can fool anyone, if they’re skilled enough.”
Chad grew visibly excited. He looked at Cyhan. “You know what this means?”
Elaine answered first, “That you’re an ass?”
The hunter winked at her. “That goes without sayin’, darlin’. What I was goin’ to say was that it means we don’t have to die.”
The young woman gave them both a look of long-suffering. “That’s why I’m here. How thickheaded are the two of you?”
“Thick enough to get mixed up into this with you,” Chad shot back.
Strangely, Cyhan found himself forced to act as moderator between the two of them as they discussed their plans. It was an uncommon role for him to take, but he handled it with dry aplomb, as he did most things. They sketched out their plan for Elaine and agreed to meet with her again the next day to walk through the area. She had several ideas that neither of them had considered, mainly because they were impossible without a wizard.
As their talk wore on, Cyhan found himself feeling moderately positive they might survive, but he didn’t pin his hopes on it. Death is always close, he reminded himself. Thinking of his daughter, he hoped it wouldn’t be that close. They hadn’t had nearly enough time yet.
“When is the trial?” asked Elaine, bringing Cyhan out of his reverie.
“The day after tomorrow,” answered the big warrior.
“I need to meet Rose this evening,” she informed them. “She has something else for me to do. I’ll explain the plan to her then.”
“We refer to her as the ‘employer,’” growled Chad.
Elaine glared at him. “We all know who she is. What’s the point?” The hunter was really beginning to get under her skin.
“In case we’re overheard,” explained Chad, his tone that of one speaking to a small and possibly very slow child. “At worst, we’re found out, but at least she stays safe from discovery.”
“I put a ward around the room to keep anyone from listening,” said Elaine sharply.
Cyhan rejoined the conversation, “The krytek could—”
Elaine cut him off, pointing at herself. “Prathion. I made certain they can’t see it.”
“I don’t give a damn,” said Chad harshly. “Stick to ‘employer.’ No matter how smart ya think ya are, missy, people make mistakes. That’s why we follow rules.”
Her eyes shot daggers at the ranger. “Perhaps you’d be kind enough to show me the book all these rules of yours are written in. That is, unless you’re simply making them up to hide your obvious mental deficiencies.”
“Missy, you listen here,” began Chad.
“It’s Elaine—Lady Elaine, to people like you.”
“Very well, Lady,” said Chad. “I’ve half a mind to stuff that attitude o’ yers straight up yer pompous ass. If it wasn’t fer my kindly disposition, I’d probably…”
With a sigh, Cyhan leaned forward to intervene again. He had a feeling he would be doing a lot of that over the next couple of days. He felt a sense of relief when Elaine finally left for her meeting with Lady Rose.
Chapter 29
Rose sat quietly with her tea, deep in thought. It had been a long day, but at least no one had tried to kill her. The night before had been a restless one, in large part because of the violent attempt on her life, but also for other reasons. Her mind kept turning in circles, and around each bend Mordecai’s face reappeared, oblivious to her attempts to banish it from her thoughts.
That isn’t productive, she reminded herself again, returning her attention to the results of her interviews with the witnesses.
“Vander is the key,” she muttered to herself. Leomund’s chief servant had lied when answering her questions, and considering what her informant had told her regarding the man’s family situation, she had an excellent idea why that might be. The trick would be finding a way to trip him up during his testimony. If she could do that, it should be enough to create more than enough doubt to get the charges against Mordecai dropped. If the man screwed up badly enough, she might be able to reveal the true killer to the court.
Her mind drifted for a moment, and she found herself remembering the feel of his strong arm around her. It had been years since she had felt anything like that. A sensation of warmth and security, of companionship, the knowledge she wasn’t alone against the cruelty of the world.
That hadn’t been all she had felt, though. A flush rose to her cheeks as she remembered the fire that had blazed within her, a fire she had almost forgotten existed. In the many years since Dorian’s death, she had almost banished it entirely, but last night had reminded her that she was indeed still a woman.
“Urgh!” she exclaimed, shaking her head to clear it. “What is wrong with me? I’m not some moon-eyed young girl.” And if I don’t keep my mind clear, I never will be. Everything hangs on this trial.
A knock at the door brought her back to the present. Painfully aware that she was alone, Rose drew out the dagger she kept on her leg and went to see who it was. In the past, she might have opened the door, but today she didn’t. “Who is there?” she called.
“Carmella, Lady Rose. A friend of your daughter, Carissa,” answered the voice of a young woman.
Rose recognized the voice, but her hand still hesitated before removing the bar. Briefly, she wondered if she would ever be free o
f the persistent fear left by the assassin. That had been the second time in recent memory someone had tried to kill her, counting the attack by ANSIS a few months prior. She had faced even worse in her youth, but the long, peaceful years had healed those scars. Now it seemed they were back in full force.
Refusing to be ruled by fear, she opened the door, keeping the blade out of sight. “Lady Carmella, what brings you here?” she asked innocently.
The young woman glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one else had entered the corridor. “A matter of some delicacy, Lady Rose. I wonder if I could prevail upon you for some advice. May I come in?”
Rose studied her for a second and then relaxed. “Please do,” she told the young woman, opening the door wide and sliding the dagger back into its sheath beneath her skirt. Once the lady was inside, she closed and barred the door again.
Carmella noted her behavior. “Is it really necessary to bar it? Surely the lock is enough. This is the Royal Palace after all.”
Rose smiled demurely. “I have become rather cautious of late. Would you care for some tea?”
The other woman’s eyes lit up. “That would be wonderful.”
The pot was still fresh, so Rose poured a second cup and then added a small amount of milk before offering it to her.
Carmella sipped it with obvious pleasure. “Just the way I like it.”
Rose nodded in agreement. “Milk and no sugar.”
“How did you know?” asked Carmella, mildly surprised.
“Because I asked you to meet me here, Elaine,” said Rose, her eyes mysterious.
With a sigh, Carmella’s features dissolved, revealing Elaine. “This isn’t my day. I’m starting to doubt my abilities. What gave me away?”
“It wasn’t your fault, dear,” Rose assured her. “It was just the person you chose to emulate. Lady Carmella and my daughter are acquaintances at best. They don’t really care for each other. She would never seek my advice, especially not with my reputation in its current state.”
“That’s really not enough to be certain,” argued Elaine.
“Which is why I tested you with the tea,” said Rose agreeably. “At that point, the chances were slim I would be wrong. Carmella has a notorious sweet tooth.”
“I like your methods much better,” offered Elaine, rubbing her bruised back absently.
Rose lifted one brow, sensing a story. “As opposed to whose?”
“Those ruffians your man sent me to help,” admitted Elaine. Knowing she couldn’t hide the story, she went on, “I met them at a tavern, in disguise, and they decided I was a…” She paused looking for the right word. “I believe Chad called it a ‘liability.’”
Covering her mouth with one hand to hide a smile, Rose lifted her cup and took a sip. “I’m sure that didn’t go over well.”
“They led me to an alley!” declared Elaine with righteous umbrage. “They were planning to kill me!”
Rose set her cup back down gracefully and turned languid eyes on her friend. “Fortunately, you were quick-witted enough to realize their plan and revealed yourself before things got out of hand.” Her voice concealed any hint of humor.
Elaine looked down, studying her tea. “Something like that.”
“Which one gave you the bruise?” asked Rose. “Cyhan?”
The younger woman nodded. “Good guess.”
“If it had been Master Grayson, you’d probably have been gutted. He doesn’t have the quite the same reserve that Sir Cyhan displays,” noted Rose. When Elaine gave her a shocked glance, she continued, “It’s my fault, dear. I told Manfred to warn you.”
“He did,” protested Elaine. “That’s why I used such an elaborate disguise.”
“Which you overdid, making them suspicious,” put in Rose evenly. “Simpler is always better, dear. We tend to forget, since we know them socially, but those two are barely house-trained. Left to their own devices, they tend to violence.”
Elaine snorted in a decidedly unladylike fashion. “House-trained, I’m going to remember that one for later.” Then she became serious. “So what do you need me for this evening?”
Rose stood and gestured for her to follow, leading her to the wardrobe in her bedroom. “Burglary,” she answered, pulling out a set of clothes sized for a slender man or a tall boy.
The tunic was cut short with tight-fitting sleeves, while the trousers were of knit wool, meant to stay close to the skin. “I think these will fit you,” said Rose, and then she went to a large chest and removed a belt and several pouches. She laid them on the bed and began to change her own clothing, trading her plain gown for a more elaborate dress.
“Why do you want me in a man’s clothing?” asked Elaine. “Shouldn’t we both be dressed similarly?”
Rose paused. “Your clothes aren’t particularly important, but on the day of the trial you may need to be able to move quickly. If I had a choice I’d give you mail to wear, assuming you could keep it silent, but the weight might be a problem. In any case, I don’t keep armor lying around. The stuff has to be fitted anyway.”
“I’ll stick out like a sore thumb if I wear this,” said Elaine.
Tutting, Rose waggled her finger. “Of course you won’t, dear. I envy you your abilities, to be able to change your appearance with a thought. I might never wear a formal gown again if I could do that.”
“Really?” questioned Elaine, surprised.
Pursing her lips, Rose changed her mind. “I suppose you’re right. I would still wear the dresses. I’m particularly fond of fashion. It would still be nice to have the option, though.”
Elaine laughed, then picked up the belt. “What’s in the pouches?”
“Not much,” said Rose dismissively. “A few coins for weight. They’re to serve as a decoy. I tried to get them made to match Mordecai’s. They aren’t quite perfect, but they’re close enough.”
The young wizard frowned. “They aren’t enchanted. Any mage that’s familiar with him will notice right away.”
“Fix that for me, would you, dear?” said Rose, sitting down to rebraid her hair. “Nothing elaborate, just enough so they’ll pass casual inspection if Tyrion or Gareth look at them.”
Elaine gave her a look of despair. “I’m not a very good enchanter, Rose. I couldn’t reproduce something like his storage pouch enchantment without studying my notes at home. Even then, it might take me a day or two.”
Rose’s fingers never faltered in their complex dance as they twined and weaved through her hair. “It only has to look like it. I’m sure you can manage something.”
As usual when talking to Rose, Elaine felt foolish. Taking out one of her wands, she used it as an improvised stylus. Working from memory she gave the pouches the feeling she had observed from Mordecai’s real pouches in the past, and then she inscribed a few runes to create a temporary ward that would fix the illusion in place. It wasn’t a real enchantment, but the illusion would last for a week or two before it began to fade. “That should do it,” she muttered quietly.
“I never doubted you for a second,” declared Rose wryly. “Take a seat. Let me fix your hair for you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” argued Elaine. “I like it this way.”
Rose pointed at the stool, and Elaine promptly sat. “You’re a burglar now, dear. Loose hair can be a distraction and we wouldn’t want it to catch on anything.” Working quickly and efficiently, she pulled and twisted at the younger woman’s hair, braiding it into an elegant coiffure that compressed the hair and kept it close against her skull. When she finished, she tucked the ends under a loop that passed over the ears, and there was no longer a stray hair to be found.
Elaine stared at herself in the mirror, knowing she had no hope of ever replicating what Rose had done. “It’s too tight, not to mention I won’t be able to do this again without your help.”
�
�Leave it as is,” suggested Rose. “You can sleep on it.”
“I’ll get a headache. I told you it’s too tight,” whined Elaine, but her breath caught in her throat when she saw a sudden flash of fire in Rose’s eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Rose closed her eyes and then reopened them slowly. Gone was the hidden rage and desperation that Elaine had briefly seen, replaced with her usual placid calm. “You can bear with it for a couple of days, dear. We’ve all had to make sacrifices.” Then she straightened and left the room.
Elaine sat still, staring at herself in the mirror. What was that? she wondered. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought Rose was stressed, but that couldn’t be the case. She had never known the older woman to be anything other than calm and controlled. She sometimes wondered if Rose was human, so perfect was her composure. Either way, she decided not to test Rose’s patience.
***
“There’s a large man inside,” whispered Elaine. She stood beside the older woman, invisible.
Rose paused, her knuckles an inch from the door. “I know, dear. That’s why I was about to knock,” she replied softly. “Please focus on your job. The pouches are in one of the small lockers.”
“How are you going to distract him?”
“Trust me,” said Rose, then she rapped smartly on the door before Elaine could ask her anything more.
When Regan opened it, he looked distastefully at her. “You again.”
Rose stared at him imperiously, standing in the middle of the open space, forcing him to step back to allow her inside—coincidentally allowing Elaine plenty of room to slip through before he moved back to close the door behind her. “I’m equally pleased to see you, Regan.”
The warden grunted before waving at her to hand him her basket. She did, and he began pawing through it with his usual clumsy abandon. Satisfied, he handed it back. “Take it in.”
“I have something else to discuss before I go,” Rose told him. “Or rather, something to inform you of.”
The jailor’s face turned sour. Whatever she had to say, he knew he wouldn’t like it.
The Severed Realm Page 25
