“Consider me curious. What makes you think someone would cut off a person’s head, rip his entrails from his stomach, and fling his blood about like an insane painter, yet not care one way or the other about him?”
Haern walked over to the window, testing its lock.
“He let the baby live. I saw Madelyn holding her.”
Ulrich’s eyes narrowed at such perception.
“What is your relation to Alyssa again?”
Haern looked back.
“Second cousin.”
“Who is your father?”
“Is this a test?”
Ulrich slowly reached for his dagger.
“That’s a poor answer.”
Haern turned where he stood, and something odd came over him. His face darkened, and a hard edge entered those blue eyes. His stance shifted slightly, the muscles in his body relaxed yet at ready. While still at his sides, his hands brushed the hilts of his sabers, clearly ready to draw.
“I am a guest in the Keenan family’s mansion,” Haern said. “I was not aware I had to explain myself to you.”
Ulrich suddenly felt nervous, his every action scrutinized with deadly intensity. With a startling clarity, he realized he felt same as he did when in the presence of the Wraith.
“Forgive me for any insult,” Ulrich said, letting go of his dagger. “Just after what happened, we’re all a little nervous of assassins.”
Haern’s eyes seemed to sparkle at that.
“I don’t fear assassins,” he said. “Assassins fear me.”
“I can imagine.”
Haern left the room, passing a mere foot in front of Ulrich. For the briefest moment he thought to draw his dagger and stab for the man’s back, but he let the impulse pass. Such a confident display was not made carelessly. This Haern had looked him over, and dismissed him as a threat. The thought burned like fire in his gut. Smoothing out his shirt, he returned to the main parlor of the mansion to await his brother, enduring the many insulting glares he received from the serving staff.
After what felt like forever, the first of many guests returned. Ulrich remained seated, standing only when Stern finally showed.
“Something wrong?” he asked, seeing his brother’s obvious displeasure.
“We need to go,” Ulrich said.
“Why?”
“Because not too long ago, William’s head was cut from his shoulders and tossed into the ocean.”
Stern looked like he’d been slapped, and a bit of anger cut through his grief.
“Who would dare do such a...” He stopped, and then he shook his head, having read Ulrich all too well. “Him, isn’t it? That Wraith? What have we done to earn his wrath?”
“Lower your voice,” Ulrich said, grabbing his brother by the arm and leading him to the exit. “And I don’t know. Call a meeting of the Merchant Lords, and set it for tomorrow. We’ll let the Amours have a day to prepare their funeral and appoint one of William’s sons in charge.”
“And what is it you hurry off to do?”
“None of your concern.”
The Keenans were waiting by the door, with Madelyn holding the newborn child just as Haern had said. The two brothers said their goodbyes, then left. They split, each heading for their homes. Trusting Stern to spread the word (assuming the other Merchant Lords didn’t know already), Ulrich traveled through his spacious, but empty, home to his private room. No kids, no wife, no family. Just as Ulrich preferred. Once he’d stripped himself of his uncomfortable clothes and locked the door, he pulled out the pouch from his discarded shirt. But first, he covered up the large glass window. Sunlight always hurt his eyes afterward.
Tossing an entire leaf in his mouth, he bit down and then breathed deep. As his head grew light, and his blood pounded through his veins, he thought of what Zusa might look like naked. Amid the euphoria, he felt a certainty overcome him, one that lasted throughout the next two hours. No matter the cost, he would have her, and he’d make damn sure that arrogant prick Haern knew it. But mostly he thought of Zusa, of taking her against her will, until at last the Violet faded, and he fell asleep with his seed spilled across his hand.
4
Alyssa played the kind supporter as the proceedings ended, and the guests trickled out one by one. She endured a hundred greetings, and treated every one as if they were with a long-lost friend.
“Will you be all right?” Zusa asked her when she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.
“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just...all this makes me miss Nathanial for some reason.”
“We wallow in the sorrow of others. Of course you’d fear your own loss.”
“Doesn’t mean I like it, nor wish to think of it.”
“Then drink,” Zusa said, handing her a glass. “Wine is excellent for forgetting.”
Alyssa chuckled.
“At least there is that,” she said, hoping the burn of it going down her throat would banish her tiredness. As she accepted a second, one of Laurie’s servants came to inform her that her room was prepared.
“What of Zusa and Haern?’ she asked.
“They have a room of their own, though it is near the back with the servants. I hope there is no offense.”
“That will be fine,” Zusa said. “I only hope we do not keep the servants awake at night.”
The servant, a young, clean-shaven man, blushed and hurried away without a word.
“This is amusing,” Zusa said, glancing at her own cleavage. “I should show my body more often. It makes the men so much more pliable and stupid.”
“Body like yours, surprised you weren’t showing skin the moment your breasts budded,” Alyssa said. She winced. “I’m sorry, Zusa. I forgot.”
When Alyssa had first met Zusa, she had been a member of the faceless women, a sect created in punishment for priestesses of Karak who broke their rules of sexuality. They’d kept her body covered in tight wraps, her face hidden behind a thin cloth. Zusa still wore the wrappings, though for what reason Alyssa could only begin to guess. At least she no longer hid her face, except when necessary.
“I will blame the wine, and not you,” Zusa said, and she smiled.
Alyssa felt her head swimming and set aside the glass. Enough with that. She rarely succumbed to weaknesses, and she would not drown herself in alcohol just because she was a lovesick mother. Glancing about to make sure no one might overhear, she leaned closer to Zusa and began to whisper.
“What will you and Haern do first?”
“We’ll go to the streets,” she said. “Every city is alive with its own crude personality. We must learn of Angelport, and from there, learn of every hole someone might hide in.”
“Good luck. Just make sure you two are back before morning. No one will be surprised if you sleep in.”
Zusa bowed, then went to find Haern. Alyssa felt a little dizzy, so she found herself a place to sit in front of a fireplace. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten. Stupid of her to drink on an empty stomach.
“Are you feeling ill?”
She looked up to see Madelyn taking a seat across from her. She shifted baby Tori from her left arm to her right, stroking her face with her fingers.
“The journey here was long,” Alyssa said. “I think it’s worn me out more than I expected.”
“It is a trip I’ve taken for every Kensgold. I’m well aware of its toll.”
“You could move back to Veldaren.”
Madelyn shook her head. She had always been incredibly beautiful in Alyssa’s eyes, increasingly so over the years, and seeing her holding a newborn made her all the more stunning. But when she looked up, and spoke the name Veldaren, she looked shockingly ugly.
“Veldaren? No, girl, I will not move back to that terrible place. You may choose to bed with thieves, but I will not. There is no safety there.”
“Nor here,” Alyssa said, knowing she was crossing a line but not caring. Madelyn clutched the babe tighter to her chest, hard enough to make little Tori
cry.
“The mongrel you dealt with, that killer...the King’s Watcher? By his blade you pour wealth into the streets, and for what? It was his sigil left written in my son’s blood. Veldaren was your mess, and you helped create him. Far as I’m concerned, your hands are just as guilty.”
“Enough, woman,” Laurie said, stepping between them. Neither had heard his approach, so focused they were on each other. He glared at his wife, then bowed low to Alyssa. “Forgive her, she speaks out of grief.”
“As do I,” Alyssa lied.
“Tori needs to be fed,” Madelyn said, standing. “Excuse me while I fetch the nursemaid.”
Laurie grabbed his wife’s arm. Her eyes flared, and Alyssa felt she looked upon a wild animal, not a noblewoman. Madelyn stood there, staring, until at last he let her go without saying a word. He didn’t seem offended, only sighed and took her seat across from Alyssa by the fire.
“She has not taken this well,” Laurie said, sounding tired beyond his years. “Sometimes I think that baby is the only reason she continues on at all.”
“Forgive me, Laurie. I did not mean to provoke her, I only suggested she return to Veldaren. It might do her good to be out of this house and its...memories.”
“I have expressed the same,” Laurie said, leaning back. He snapped his fingers, and a servant rushed over with a drink in hand. Downing its contents in rapid gulps, he had it refilled, then waved the man away. “But she will not heed my words. To her, Veldaren will always be the place she was taken hostage by Thren, and as long as that spider’s alive, she’ll never return.”
“Laurie, I meant to mention this earlier. My guests...”
“This about your, what were they, cousins?” Laurie laughed. “I’ve spent every waking moment of my life surrounded by men and women who dine with golden spoons. It doesn’t take much to know neither has had the Gemcroft name for long, if ever. Who are they really? Bodyguards?”
Alyssa bit her lip, trying to think of the proper answer.
“In a way,” she said.
Laurie shifted in his chair, his hand drifting to his neck before returning to the armrest. No doubt he still missed the long braid that used to fall over his shoulder. Touching it with his fingers had been a nervous tic of his, and now it was gone.
“I understand you wishing for extra safety, given what happened. I trust they will be with you at all times.”
“Not exactly...”
Wishing for her own drink, Alyssa swallowed and pressed on. Laurie was far older than her, and with Leon’s death two years ago, was now the eldest of the Trifect. She’d always felt intimidated by his presence, however soft-spoken he might be. Something about him always seemed vulnerable, and made her want to trust him, but she could never forget the ruthless stories she’d heard growing up, of what he’d done to make the thief guilds truly fear him. Still, she did not want to lie to her host, especially when he was her ally and friend.
“I have brought them to hunt down the one who killed Julie and Taras, this...Wraith.”
Laurie set down his glass hard enough to chip a side. For a long moment he sat there, leaning forward in his chair, thinking. Alyssa did her best not to appear nervous or uncertain. At last he spoke.
“The past few weeks have passed in agony, Alyssa. Each moment crawls like a day. I could tell you down to the hour how long it has been since my son left this world. And I assure you, for every one of those torturous seconds, I have had my men scouring Angelport in search of him. We have found nothing, heard nothing, other than more names claimed as his victims. It doesn’t matter who you brought. It doesn’t matter how much you paid them, or how good you think they are. They won’t find him. If this is the gift you’ve come to offer me, you waste your time.”
He stood to leave, but Alyssa stopped him with a sentence.
“I brought the King’s Watcher with me.”
He turned, something dangerous stirring in his eyes.
“You brought him into my home? It was his mark left to me in mockery, and you bring him here?”
“It was not him, I’m certain of it. Whoever this Wraith is, he’s sent the Watcher a challenge. I could think of no one better to hunt him down and lay him at your feet.”
“You bring a murderer to find another murderer.” He shook his head. “You’ve always been willing to lower yourself into dealing with scum to solve your problems. One of these days, Alyssa, you’ll learn that if you lie with enough dogs, you’ll catch their fleas.”
“I do what I must,” she said, straightening in her seat. “I will bear no shame in that.”
Laurie chuckled.
“If you insist. I’ll tell Torgar to give him free rein to come and go as he pleases, within reason, of course. And I suggest not telling Madelyn that the Watcher sleeps under her own roof. The results would not be pleasant.”
She laughed, and Laurie laughed with her. Despite the redness of his eyes, he finally showed a trace of his original self.
“Pleasant nights, Lady Gemcroft,” he said, bowing.
“And pleasant dreams.”
Left alone, Alyssa finally relaxed, glad to have that confrontation over with. His certainty about the Wraith’s elusiveness worried her a little, but she brushed that aside. There were plenty that the Trifect had tried to track down, yet failed. Thren Felhorn was a prime example of that. Yet she had the Watcher at her disposal, the one who had found those she could not, frightened those who felt no fear, and forced an entire war to end with just his bloody sabers.
If there was anyone who could find this Wraith, it was him.
“We’re never going to find this guy,” Haern said as he tightened his hood. “A skilled assassin in his hometown, one daring enough to strike at a member of the Trifect? He’ll know every nook and cranny to hide in.”
“You whine like a child,” Zusa said, looping her dark purple wrappings about her neck. She’d been half-naked when he entered their room, so he dressed with his back to her as she slowly covered her body.
“That must take forever to put on,” he said after stealing a glance to make sure she was decent.
“It was part of our punishment,” Zusa said, grabbing another roll and pressing it against her chin. “The idea was that with how much time it would take, we would be more able to resist our womanly urges.”
“It work?”
The wrappings covered her face, cheekbones, and forehead, with only a long gap across her eyes.
“There are many ways to find pleasure, even fully clothed. Trust me. We faceless women discovered them all.”
Haern felt himself blushing, and tried to change the topic.
“Where is it we should go first?” he asked.
“The docks.”
“Any particular reason?”
Zusa smiled at him; her lips might have been covered, but he could tell by the way her eyes sparkled.
“I will explain when we arrive. Now let us hurry. Alyssa said we will be allowed to come and go as we please, but I still think it best we don’t let many know of our presence here.”
Haern inched open the door and looked out. The hallway was dark and empty. The entire mansion had been laid down for rest, the sun long set. Nodding to Zusa, he pulled his cloaks tight about him and led the way. They kept to the servants’ side, since they were closer to their exit. When they were to leave, a burly man stood on the opposite side of the door, his arms crossed. A wicked scar ran across the bridge of his nose. He was past his prime years, but still looked like he could tear Haern in half with his bare hands.
“You’re blocking the way,” Haern said, keeping his tone flat. “Move?”
“You’re that Watcher guy, aren’t you? Laurie said you’d be coming.”
“Kind of him. Care to do as he says?”
Instead, the man drew an enormous sword off his back. It had to weigh a ton, but he handled it with ease.
“They tell me you weren’t the one who killed Taras,” he said. “But I saw the symbol. You might not h
ave done it yourself, but that don’t mean you’re innocent. I fought that Wraith bastard. If the rumors about you are even half-true, this guy’s still better.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Zusa whispered behind him.
The man let out a roar, as if he were trying to be intimidating. Haern winced, but only from the heavy stench of alcohol that assaulted his nostrils.
“Who are you?” Haern asked.
“Torgar. I’m in charge of Laurie’s mercenaries, as well as keeping the family safe. If it were up to me, I’d have you hanging outside the-”
He suddenly tensed, and his jaw dropped a little. Zusa stood before him, her knee rammed into his crotch, her left hand holding his neck to keep him steady. Her dagger pressed against his abdomen, just below his leather armor.
“Move,” she breathed into his ear, just before kicking his chin when she back-flipped. Torgar dropped to his rear, his stunned look giving way to anger
“You bitch!”
Zusa blew him a kiss as she ran on. Haern followed, offering the mercenary a sympathetic shrug.
“A little harsh,” he said as they vaulted the walls of the Keenan estate.
“The oaf thinks with pride and alcohol. I have no patience with either.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
They kept to the shadows as they hurried down the street toward a main intersection leading to the docks. Their first obstacle was one of the three walls, its gateways well-lit and carefully guarded. They slunk to the side of a home and peered around.
“Doubt they’ll let us through,” Haern said. “Not armed and dressed like this.”
“We could take them out. Not fatally. Don’t give me that look.”
Haern glanced at the wall. It wasn’t that tall, and with so many homes built up against it, just maybe...
“Follow me,” Zusa said, interrupting his thoughts. She ran until out of sight of the gate, then turned and vaulted high into the air. Haern could hardly believe what he saw. She landed atop the roof, without needing to grab hold or climb up. Without slowing, she took two more steps and jumped again, catching the top of the wall with her fingers. Climbing up, she then leaned back down and offered her hand.
A Dance of Death (Shadowdance Trilogy, Book 3) Page 5
