“Shut up!” Rainer cried. “I’m doing this for your own good!” The killer waited until Sean had calmed down somewhat then took the cloth out and wrapped bandages around his feet. “There, should keep the rats from gnawing on you, but if they still come, tell me and I’ll chase ’em away. Oh, and for God’s sake, stop with your blubbering. I’ve gone through worse, yet no one heard me bellyaching like a babe at its mother’s teat. Grow a spine already.”
Sean kept his head down and concentrated on his breathing, trying hard not to pass out. His limbs shivered in the cold, and his headache had grown worse, but by God, those were nothing compared to the sickening and dreadful feeling of Rainer holding his feet down and sawing off parts of his body. Sean had known before that the man was motivated by money, but from the way he happily tormented him, Rainer was clearly a sadist, too, little different than those who hung Micah on a cross. Only now did Sean perfectly understood why Callie feared this man. Back when he knew her in St. Mannington, Callie had seemed confident and unshakeable to a fault, yet whenever she talked about Rainer, she sounded a little like a child mentioning the monster under her bed.
“Yes, I had another person go after Hugo in my stead,” Rainer said. “He was sure to be heavily guarded, and I didn’t feel like taking the risk. A blade to the heart—”
“I don’t care, I don’t care, just let me go, please!”
Rainer slapped him, making him see white for a second in the dark, clammy room. “Listen to me, I’m getting to a point here! As I was saying, a blade to the heart could kill me as well as any man … or so I thought. I once thought magic could kill me, too, but it looks like I was wrong. Wouldn’t you say?”
Sean made no response until Rainer smacked him again, using a lighter touch this time. “Yes, yes … y-you must be a mage hunter?”
“I have a few defenses against magic, yes, but I’m no mage hunter. I’m not that discriminative. But hell, have you ever heard of someone who could break through a barrier the way I did?”
“Did … did you kn-know you could d-do that?”
“No,” Rainer said, putting back on his cold, devil-may-care grin. “I’m a special man and never realized it. Blades can’t harm me for long, and magic can’t even touch me. Don’t know what I did to earn this, but seeing as how I can’t turn it down …”
Rainer proceeded to take off his armor and strip to the waist while he told the story of his confrontation with Callie about two months ago. “I would say she put up a good fight, but she mostly just ran from me and let others do the fighting for her. Smart girl, I’ll give her that. Just when I thought I had her, she ran a sword through my gut, right here …” He pointed to his belly, and upon blinking his tears away, Sean could faintly make out a bone-white scar over Rainer’s bulky abdominals. Rainer then pointed to the scar tissue on his neck, which Sean had previously assumed came from a fire. “She then put one of my throwing knives through here. I managed to take it out, and before I knew it, I was running away with the sword still in my gut. After I pulled that out, I thought for sure I wasn’t long for this world … but the hole closed up on itself, and I was as good as new. You believe me, right?”
“Y-yes,” Sean said with a whimper, saying whatever would make his captor happy.
Rainer smacked him again. “Then you’re a fool. Even I would say that story sounds like bullshit. Ah, but seeing is believing, ain’t it? I’ll give you a demonstration, seeing as how I’m such a gracious host.” He retrieved from his table of weapons a thin dagger designed for stabbing, stood a few paces away from Sean, and then, after a sharp intake of air, he plunged the blade deep into his left side, just below the ribcage. He held it there for a moment before blowing out his breath through a grimace. He tried his best to contain himself, but he couldn’t help but tremble from the pain and drop to his knees. The blade was then taken out, and blood poured from the wound. Rainer slumped over, planting his hands on the cold floor and breathing raggedly. “M-maybe … I should’ve … picked … another … spot …”
Sean could hardly believe what he was seeing. He had been so sure he would die in this place by Rainer’s hand; now it seemed he would instead starve to death as his captor’s body cooled before him. But then Sean didn’t know what to believe anymore once Rainer began chuckling maniacally and stood up as if nothing ill had happened. Rainer wiped the blood from his torso and looked down at the wound, which was now just another white scar added to his collection. “Shame,” he muttered, “you can’t really call this a battle scar, now can you?” He raised his arms to stretch himself then grinned at his captive like a child with a naughty secret. “What do you think? If some god out there favors me like this, I’m entitled to a few frightful indulgences, wouldn’t you agree?”
It was an outrageous question, but at that moment Sean was too lost in thought to reply. He had spotted something on Rainer’s upper right arm, and he wondered if he had merely imagined it. If he hadn’t—if what he had seen was real—then the implications were too much for his poor mind to handle.
Rainer brought his sneering face close to Sean’s and whispered, “I said, I should be allowed some indulgences … wouldn’t you agree?”
Sean was so exhausted and miserable, he would agree to anything just to have a moment of peaceful solitude. “Uh, y-yes, sir, yes … y-you’re allowed.”
Rainer glared for a long moment, meeting the slight hope in Sean’s eyes with mounting anger. He then slowly shook his head and said, “No, I don’t think you mean that. I hate it when people lie to me, so I’ll have to teach you a lesson. This is for your own good.” He returned to the weapons table, retrieved the curved dagger, and slowly made his way back to Sean, grinning at his captive’s growing distress. Sean fought at his bonds and pleaded for his life, attempting to wobble his chair away although an unseen rope tied the chair to the back wall about a meter away. Rainer slapped him for the fourth time, then grasped his right wrist and forcibly splayed the fingers. Sean howled before the dagger even touched him, anticipating the torture that would inevitably ensue, and fresh tears spilled into a dry mouth as the sharp edge cut deeply into his little finger.
Twenty-one
What the hell am I even doing here? she thought as she picked at her ribeye with a fork. It had been over two days since Sean had left the house, and not a word had been made on his whereabouts and condition. And yet here she was at a second dinner with Sir Barnes, enjoying life as if nothing was wrong. She felt as if she should be out in the Red Borough looking for her friend, peering into every dusty corner until she found him. She didn’t have the nerve to ask Count Guyver to let her do it, though, since the matter of missing people fell to the city guard, not the retainers of a local lord.
She had gone to the shopping district that afternoon with an armed escort and picked out a beautiful taffeta-and-cotton dress with two shades of blue and white lace. She hadn’t expected to wear it so soon, but Sir Barnes had asked her out again and she was relieved of most of her duties that day. He took her to a restaurant with a terrace that overlooked a grand fountain with statues of cherubs and toga-clad women. It was such a beautiful place … and she had a nagging notion that she didn’t deserve to be there.
She let Sir Barnes do most of the talking, which he could do at great length. He said that his new master, Count Lars, kept him on a short leash, so to speak, since he didn’t know his new knight long enough to fully trust him. Barnes’ stipend was also not as generous as that from his previous master, but he was sure that with time and earned respect, he could demand a reasonable increase. The money he was spending right now was perhaps a little too much, but he had a rising suspicion he would be sent back to the battlefield soon, so he wanted to “live it up” while he still could.
Callie tried to hang on to every word, and she voiced concern over his return to the war, but Sean was always on her mind—a dangling thread she occasionally batted at. She gave a teasing smile when she caug
ht him eyeing her cleavage (which she was unaccustomed to showing), but she otherwise appeared miserable throughout the meal.
“Callie, my dear …” Sir Barnes set down his knife and offered his hand across the table, which Callie took. “Tell me, what’s bothering you?”
She felt her eyes begin to sting, so she bit her tongue to keep from tearing up. “It’s my friend, Sean; he’s an apprentice house mage. The King ordered him to search for Rainer. I heard he went to this place called the Red Borough with three other mages.”
“Well, you should feel honored that your friend is bringing in this man to justice. You’ll sleep better thanks to him.”
“But that was on Monday, and nobody’s seen him since. I fear the worst, but … well, maybe he’s still okay, but he’s out there in a bad place. I don’t want to think that Rainer has him, but maybe he does. I’m sorry, Tim, I’m just so worried about him.”
“I understand,” Sir Barnes said. He took back his hand and appear to think of the right thing to say while Callie took small bites of her steak. He then said, “My dear … your friend is most likely dead.”
“What!? How could you say that to me?”
“You said he’s been gone since Monday, and I doubt the search has gone on for two days without end. But if it has, and your friend had any consideration, he would have sent a message to your house saying he was okay. But he hasn’t; most likely he and the others found the killer, and the killer did what he’s inclined to do.”
“But they were all mages. How could one man kill three experienced mages all at once?”
“Are you sure that ‘one man’ was actually alone?”
Callie couldn’t answer that. It was a good point. “Still, why can’t you let me live in hope?”
“Hope is a fine thing, but hope can let you down, my dear.”
Callie nearly told him to not call her “my dear” anymore, but she fell silent and bitterly returned to her meal. The nerve of this guy! He’s just saying this out of jealousy; he can’t stand me knowing another man. Typical member of the gentry; they must all be pricks!
They ate in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Sir Barnes suddenly dropped his utensils with a clatter. “As I chased after those vagabonds who made off with Lady Millerton, I kept thinking to myself, ‘She’s okay, she’s okay, they wouldn’t dare do anything to her.’ But I was wrong. They killed her simply because they could. When I found her body, I … I wanted to die along with her. I had convinced myself that the chase would have a fairy tale ending, but real life doesn’t always play out like a fairy tale. Hope is a fine thing, but if you have too much of it … it can crush you, Callie. You should be prepared for the bad news, so your heart won’t have so much to heal.”
She looked up solemnly and realized she couldn’t stay mad at him. She had nearly forgotten about the bandit raid, and how forlorn Sir Barnes was when Callie first saw him. He had moved on with his life as he should, but he was silently still mourning the loss of the woman he’d sworn to defend. Deep down, he probably wished things were back to the way they were, before the terrible bandit attack. She could certainly relate.
Sir Barnes laughed nervously. “My apologies, I’m afraid I spoiled the mood.”
“You did, but I forgive you. I do hope you’re wrong though.”
“As do I, my dear. If I am wrong, it would be cause to celebrate.” He tried on a pleasant smile which she returned amicably enough. Still, when he suggested taking a walk through the streets, she turned him down and requested to be brought home.
Under the glow of the half-moon which Callie had once seen as a symbol for a couple coming together, a rental carriage stopped by the gate of Count Guyver’s house. The coachman made to open the door for the lady, but Sir Barnes asked him to wait a moment.
“I wish to see you again soon, but I’m afraid I’ve made a mess of things,” he said. “Please forgive me.”
“I already said I did,” Callie replied with a reassuring smile. “I know you meant well, but you only made me more worried.”
“I know. If you’d like some time to be alone, I’ll understand.” He fidgeted in his seat. “Callie, may I ask you for a goodnight kiss?”
She rose an eyebrow at him. He didn’t want her to live in hope, yet he wanted a kiss? Didn’t seem right, yet she supposed she could allow it. His hurtful words at dinner weren’t born from malice but grief, plus he had paid for a wonderful meal with a view. She closed her eyes, inclined her head up, and slightly pursed her lips. His own lips were closed when they connected, as if he intended a friendly peck, but they lingered on hers and soon opened to invite her to something more intimate. She surprised herself by accepting the invitation, wrapped her lips around his lower one and placing her hands on his shoulders. It had been an age since she had a kiss like this, and she forgot how comforting it was. After so long, she could finally drop her inhibitions and get lost in warm arms and the taste of another’s breath in her mouth.
Once they parted, she noticed a line of spittle hanging from both their lips, and she quickly cut it off with a swipe of her hand. She then edged away from him, flushed with embarrassment. “Thank you for dinner, Tim. Maybe I’ll see you in a few.”
“The same to you, my dear. Goodnight.”
She expected some catcalls from her fellow guards as she ambled through the gate and to the front door, but they fortunately let her bathe in a lover’s glow in peace. Once she entered her room, a funny thing happened: Instead of thinking how wonderful Sir Barnes was, doubts began to surface. That kiss had been nice, but did she really think well of this man? He was nice and polite, but perhaps a little too much so. She was used to cavorting with raucous people back in her clan days, and while she would probably never relive those days again, they were a part of her that would remain forever. She loved telling naughty jokes and making impolite comments, yet on both her dates with Sir Barnes, she had been afraid of saying something that would offend him.
Maybe he wasn’t right for her after all. Maybe she had been too wrapped up in his devilishly good looks to notice.
And yet that kiss she gave him implied otherwise.
She laid her back against a wall and slid down to the floor, groaning in shame and indecision. She thought she’d learn to be happy with this new lifestyle, but with the way things were going, happiness didn’t look to be in the cards.
She awoke to the sound of fluttering. A moth or a beetle must have snuck inside, she thought. She opened her eyes and blinked at a bright light hovering on the other side of the room.
It was no insect causing the noise, but a fairy.
Callie imagined that most people would jump from the bed with a start, alarmed at the invasion, but she was a former clanswoman who had the arts of subterfuge instilled into her at an early age. Instead of causing her bed to creak, she remained absolutely still, lying sideways with an ear on her pillow. She opened her eyes in slits, wanting to observe this tiny invader and see what it would do. Besides, there was no way Callie could win in a fight; fairies were too powerful for most mages, let alone a sleepy person still in bedclothes.
The fairy appeared female, with tiny green strips for clothing. She darted this way and that, looking over shelves of clothing, weapons, and guard equipment. She didn’t touch anything, but she did take close looks at the few pieces of jewelry Callie had.
Despite Callie’s best efforts, her mattress emitted a small creak. The fairy suddenly turned and gasped, but Callie had already closed her eyes, keeping the appearance of sleep. Then, from the sound of it, the fairy flew through the cracked-open window, shut it from the other side, and retreated.
Callie reopened her eyes and made sure the coast was clear before arising. She slowly got dressed, her thoughts aflutter with images of the fairy. She’ll have to report this to the guard chief, let him know that a fairy had managed to come inside without alerting the house’s ward. Even
so, it might be nothing serious. As far as she knew, it was a harmless breach committed by a mischievous magic creature who was only having a little fun.
But as she put on her boots, another thought occurred to her: What if this wasn’t an isolated incident? What if the fairy had a human master who ordered her to keep an eye on her? If so, Callie needed only one guess as to who that master was.
She lingered in her room to formulate a plan, then went to the chief’s office to see what her schedule looked like. She was free until guard patrol that late afternoon, so she returned to her room and wrote on a small strip of parchment, then left the house for the nearest pigeon post. Inside, she asked the postman if there were any messages for Count Guyver. The postman—who was understandably suspicious of her since she was a new face—reluctantly admitted there was a message from Milo Nesby, one of the count’s trading partners. She took it and returned to the house, trying to look calm and relaxed, not at all aware that a fairy might be tailing her. Hopefully, the fairy will think she had gotten two messages from the postman instead of one.
After she deposited the real message to one of the count’s advisors, she went straight to the house’s spellchamber, where she found Master Brown muttering to himself. “Is anything the matter?” she asked.
“Oh, there’s been a small failing with the ward,” Master Brown replied. “Did you see anything out of the ordinary recently?”
“No,” she lied, not wanting to give herself away to any tiny ears that might be listening. A fairy’s magic might be able to let it hear through several walls from a distance.
“Well, it’s probably nothing, but this is what I get for being complacent. Think nothing of it.”
“A message came for you, Master Brown.” She gave him the strip that she wrote on.
The Hunt for the Three Roses Page 31
