You’re lucky to have people like me and my mother to do your thinking for you, Damin corrected silently, but he was too polite to say such a thing out loud. Instead he bowed and opened the door for the High Prince so they could have some lunch before continuing their council of war.
CHAPTER 53
Alija took her time getting ready when Tressa informed her Galon Miar was waiting downstairs to see her. It was important, she felt, to appear at her best. And her most controlled. Nobody would ever learn of the depth of her grief for her court’esa. Not only was it unseemly to feel so deeply for a slave, her grief exposed a weakness she had no wish to reveal. So Alija took her time and made herself beautiful, the cosmetics and her robes of office surrounding her like a shield designed to protect her from her own vulnerability.
She’d not seen the assassin since before Tarkyn Lye’s murder. The coincidence was not lost on Alija and she wondered as she descended the stairs if Galon had stayed away because he knew something that would incriminate the Assassins’ Guild and was afraid to share it with her. That Marla Wolfblade had hired the guild to murder Tarkyn Lye was a foregone conclusion. There was no way the princess was going to sully her own delicate little hands with the blood of a slave. Given his rank in the Assassins’ Guild, the chances that Galon knew the identity of the assassin were high. He might also know who commissioned the job. He certainly had the resources to find out.
And as proof of his loyalty to her, Alija had every intention of making him find out.
“Alija,” he said, as she entered the hall, smiling at her warmly. “You’re looking particularly lovely this afternoon.”
He didn’t seem uncertain, or the slightest bit nervous. Perhaps he didn’t know anything about Tarkyn’s murder, after all. There was no need to let him know how much his absence had worried her, though. She lifted her chin, eyeing him with disdain. “How thoughtful of you, Galon, to squeeze me into your busy social calendar.”
“Don’t be like that,” he said, crossing the room to her. He took her hands in his and kissed her—significantly, on each cheek rather than the mouth. She didn’t have time to wonder what that meant. While he held her hands she quickly scanned his thoughts. As usual, there was nothing untoward she could detect, but it was never easy to tell with Galon. He was one of those rare assassins who had mastered the mental discipline required to construct a mind shield. Although she couldn’t actually feel it, she knew it was there because there was information in his mind she had never been able to find, things he should have known about the Assassins’ Guild that simply weren’t there. The only thing she did know for certain was that even the best assassin couldn’t just hide his most recent thoughts away. It took hours, sometimes days of concentrated meditation to consciously create a mind shield, and assassins usually left the city to do it. The guild had some hidden retreat not far out of Naribra, Alija knew, which was where most of the advanced training for assassins took place. Galon hadn’t had time to get to Naribra and back since she’d seen him last.
“Where have you been?” she demanded, still holding his hands. If she couldn’t read his every thought, she could certainly tell when he was lying.
Galon smiled. “Plotting your demise with your nemesis.”
Alija snatched her hands away, taking a step back from him. He wasn’t lying.
“You’ve been plotting with Marla Wolfblade?”
“She really does have a set against you, doesn’t she?” Galon seemed to find the idea quite amusing.
“I hope you’re joking.”
“You know I’m not.”
“Then you’d better explain yourself, Galon Miar.”
“Marla thinks she’s found a way to bring you down. Using me.”
His candour didn’t surprise her. Galon knew Alija could tell if he was lying, so there was no point in trying to deceive her. His willingness to play along with Marla’s schemes disturbed her a little, though.
“You mean her absurd plot to expose my sons as slave’s bastards? I’d not lose too much sleep over that, if I were you. She’s bluffing.”
“No, I believe her latest plan involves convincing you to send an assassin to the front to arrange for both Damin Wolfblade and Narvell Hawksword to be killed in a battle.”
She smiled. “Don’t think I haven’t fantasised about such a thing. But that’s almost as ridiculous as her plan to expose my sons. And hardly reason to involve you. You’re too well known to send on such a mission. She must know I would never be so blatant. Or so easily manipulated.”
“I think she’s a little desperate.”
Alija doubted that. The woman who had waltzed in here clutching Tarkyn’s bloodied slave collar was anything but desperate. More likely she was lost without Elezaar’s guidance as these increasingly absurd plots to destroy her seemed to indicate.
“Marla’s getting anxious,” he explained, confirming at least one of her suspicions. “The army we’ve been able to raise is woefully outnumbered by the Fardohnyans and—thanks to you—it’s under the command of an incompetent fool. What really has her frightened is the possibility that Hablet will actually win, and if he does, there’s no place in this world for the Wolfblades.”
“A thought which is almost enough to make me like Hablet.”
“That’s what Marla fears most. If Hablet wins this war, he won’t stay in Greenharbour long. After he’s killed every member of Marla’s family he can find, he’ll appoint a governor to rule the country, head back to Talabar and simply bleed Hythria dry. And he’ll need someone who knows Hythria well to do the bloodletting.”
Alija stared at him in shock. “And she thinks I would collaborate with a Fardohnyan in this?”
“She thinks you’d do anything to see your son on the throne.”
“If Hablet wins,” Alija pointed out, “there won’t actually be a throne.”
“Not for a while,” Galon agreed. “But we’ll recover from the plague eventually, and from an invasion. At some point in the future, there’ll be a High Prince of Hythria again.”
“But if her line is obliterated by Hablet, it won’t be a Wolfblade,” Alija concluded. She studied him curiously. “I find it remarkable that she confided all this in you.”
“I have an honest face.”
Alija wasn’t amused by his flippancy. “Don’t waste my time, Galon. What did you have to do to gain this remarkable intelligence from Princess Marla? Sleep with her?”
“No,” he assured her. Then he added with a grin, “Although not for lack of trying on my part.”
“You find her attractive?”
“You know I do.”
She walked around the desk to put some distance between them. It wouldn’t do to let him know how much his admiration for Marla’s great beauty irritated her. “So … what … she invited you to tea and just blurted out all her plans to you?”
“She thinks she can trust me.”
“Really? Now why would that be?”
“She had someone read my mind.”
Alija’s head jerked up. “Who?”
The assassin shrugged. “You probably don’t know him. He’s a thief. A man named Wrayan Lightfinger.”
Alija gripped the edge of the table in shock. “You’ve actually spoken to Wrayan?”
“You do know him? Fancy that. Cocky sort of chap, isn’t he? Calls himself the greatest thief in all of Hythria.”
“Wrayan actually read your mind?” she gasped. “And you let him?”
He shrugged, apparently unconcerned. “The mind shield assassins learn to create was designed to stop the Harshini, Alija. You don’t seriously think some distant descendant of their race would be able to crack what a full Harshini couldn’t, do you? You have nothing to fear. Trust me, Lightfinger took nothing from my mind I didn’t willingly let him have.”
This was too much to take in, all at once. She sank down in her chair. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s quite simple. Marla Wolfblade made contact with me because she k
nows about our relationship. She’s trying to subvert me to her cause. She’s out to destroy you and she’s prepared to use anything or anybody to do it.”
“Why didn’t you just tell her to go to hell?”
“That wouldn’t have helped you much. This way, I’ll know her plans and I can keep you apprised of them.”
“Take my hand,” she commanded.
Galon did as she asked, reaching across the desk, unconcerned that she might doubt him or that she had the means to tell if he was being untruthful.
“Have you slept with Marla?”
“No.”
It was the truth, Alija discovered with relief. “Did you really allow Wrayan Lightfinger to read your mind?”
Galon didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
Also the truth. “Did he break through your shield?”
“No, he didn’t break it.”
Again, Galon spoke truthfully. Relieved beyond measure, she let his hand drop.
He sank down into the chair opposite the desk. “Does this mean you believe me? That you trust me?”
“I believe you, Galon. I’m not at all sure I trust you. What exactly are you supposed to do, to lure me into this trap of Marla Wolfblade’s?”
“I’m supposed to subtly let it slip I can put you in touch with someone who can get a message through to Hablet, telling him you’re willing to do a deal about the administration of Hythria after he’s won the battle, and that to prove your good intentions, you’ll arrange to have the Wolfblade line destroyed so there is no focus for opposition against his rule.”
“How?”
He smiled. “Thieves and assassins know no borders, you know.”
Alija shook her head. Such a plan seemed pointless and unworkable. “What makes her think Hablet would have any interest in dealing with me? I’m High Arrion of the Sorcerers’ Collective. He despises the Collective just on principle.”
Galon leaned back in his chair. “Princess Marla was of the opinion that if you let it be known it was you who manipulated Lernen Wolfblade into taking command of Hythria’s army, it will more than adequately prove your change of allegiance to King Hablet.”
Alija couldn’t help but smile. “I imagine she would see things that way. And when I make contact, Marla exposes me as a Fardohnyan traitor, is that the plan?”
“I believe so.”
She shook her head in wonder. “Her gall appears to be boundless.”
“I don’t know,” Galon remarked, sounding suspiciously admiring of Marla’s schemes. “It’s a pretty slick arrangement, actually. Or it would be, if I wasn’t playing for the wrong side.”
“Don’t you mean the right side?”
“Depends on where you’re standing, I suppose.”
Alija frowned, but knew he was baiting her, so she didn’t react. “This contact of Marla’s … is he really a Fardohnyan agent? He would almost have to be if she seriously thought I would fall for this absurdity.”
“I couldn’t say. Despite what it looks like, Alija, I wasn’t actually given every little detail of the plan. All I know is I was supposed to come here, pretend everything is fine, and then convince you that your best hope of ever seeing your son ruling Hythria someday is to do a deal with Hablet before he’s won the war, rather than after, when he’s in no mood to deal with anybody.”
Alija rose to her feet and paced the floor thoughtfully, wondering if there was a way she could turn this around; if there was a way to trap Marla in her own schemes.
“Given her connections,” she mused, “it’s not hard to imagine Marla has extensive contacts in Fardohnya, either through the Tirstone brothers, or Luciena Taranger. I suppose it wouldn’t be that hard for her to arrange to get a message to Hablet. But would she really risk exposing herself like that, just to get at me?”
“You’d know that better than I, Alija.”
The High Arrion nodded grimly. “Then the answer is probably yes. Tell her I’ll meet him.”
Galon looked at her in genuine surprise. “What?”
“Tell Marla I’ll meet with this Fardohnyan agent she’s lined up. Tell her you succeeded in convincing me my only hope of seeing an end to her line is to ally myself with Hablet. How does the old saying go? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?”
“You can’t be serious!” he exclaimed. “She’s trying to trap you into proving you’re in league with Hablet. That’s high treason.”
“I know that.”
“So you’re going to foil her plans by meeting with a Fardohnyan agent? There’s a grand idea.”
She smiled confidently. “I’m going to turn the tables on her, Galon.”
“How?”
Alija was surprised someone as astute as Galon Miar couldn’t see what she was driving at. “In order for this plan to proceed, Marla, or one of her stepchildren—and I’m assuming it will be Rodja Tirstone—will have to make contact with this Fardohnyan agent first. And he will have to be genuine. She knows I can read his mind. Any hint he’s not what he claims, and her scheme will be exposed. All I need to do is prove Marla is conducting business with our enemies and the entire Wolfblade family will fall.”
“And how are you going to prove it?”
“I’m not. You are.”
“Me?”
“You obviously have her confidence. Tell her I agreed. Get the time and the place for this meeting and when we arrive, I will scan his thoughts. It will take me a matter of minutes to establish he was at the meeting at the behest of Rodja Tirstone, or someone else connected to Marla. Once we have proof, I will call in the Sorcerers’ Collective Guard. You will testify that she set the meeting up, and there you have it. All the evidence we need to prove the High Prince’s sister is a traitor to Hythria. Marla tied up in knots, using the very noose she set to hang me. There’s a rather delicious irony in that, don’t you think?
“I think you’re insane, actually.”
“It is insane,” Alija agreed. “Which is why this will work. Tell me one thing, though. Why did you bring this plan to me? You could have taken Marla’s side. She’s wealthier than a god. And I know you think she’s beautiful. Why not just fall in with her plans and reap the rewards? It’s not as if you love me, Galon.”
The assassin rose to his feet and walked to her. With heartbreaking tenderness, he took her hands in his, a gesture she knew was designed to ease her fears. “Alija, I swear to you, my feelings for you have never changed since we first met. Nothing Marla Wolfblade has said or ever will say is going to alter that.”
Even if she hadn’t known for certain he was telling the truth because of their physical contact, his demeanour was so intense, she would have believed him. Still holding her hands, he kissed her, this time on the mouth. And then he let her go. “I can’t stay much longer. I have to report my progress to my co-conspirators.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
“I will.” He let her go reluctantly and then turned and headed for the door.
“One other thing,” she called after him.
“Yes?”
“I want you to find out who ordered the kill on Tarkyn Lye.”
Galon hesitated before he answered. “You want me to break my oath to the guild by giving you the name of a client?”
Significantly, he didn’t sound surprised to learn Tarkyn was dead. That, in itself, told Alija a great deal. “Yes. I do.”
“I can’t”
“But you do know who ordered it, don’t you?”
He nodded reluctantly. “And I really can’t tell you who it was, Alija. Much as I’d like to.”
“Then tell me this much. Did Tarkyn’s death affect your decision to remain loyal to me?”
“In more ways than I can ever explain,” he replied with total conviction.
Alija crossed her arms with a look of satisfaction. He knows it was Marla who ordered Tarkyn killed. And clearly, the notion disturbs him.
It seemed odd for an assassin to be unsettled about the idea of a woman hiring the Assassin
s’ Guild to remove an enemy. Perhaps it was because this wasn’t just any woman. This was the High Prince’s sister. No guild wanted to become the private army of a despot, so they determinedly stayed out of politics. Just as the Assassins’ Guild refrained from taking jobs that might affect the succession, they were, historically, just as reluctant to accept commissions from those in positions of ultimate power. Learning Marla Wolfblade had hired his guild to take care of an enemy—even if it was only a slave—would have had ramifications even the princess hadn’t considered.
“I’ll see you again soon?”
“As soon as I can arrange it,” he promised, and then he was gone, leaving Alija alone, the faint taste of his kiss still lingering on her lips. She revelled in the sensation and then called for Tressa.
“My lady?”
“Send a message to the Sorcerers’ Palace,” she ordered, thinking that even if it took an inordinate amount of double dealing to bring Marla Wolfblade down, Wrayan Lightfinger was much more easily dealt with. “I’ve just heard there is a notorious thief in the city looting the houses of the dead. I need to speak to the Captain of the Guard.”
CHAPTER 54
The second time Galon Miar came through her window, Marla was expecting him. She was sitting at her dressing table, fully dressed this time, brushing out her hair. It didn’t need brushing, but it gave her something to do with her hands while she waited.
As soon as she heard the window open, she looked up and watched him in the mirror, climbing through her window. He turned and closed it carefully behind him before acknowledging her presence.
“Your highness.”
“Do you have some sort of problem with using a door, Galon?”
“How come you never call the guards when I sneak through your window? By the way, you’re starting to make a habit of that,” he said, walking up behind her.
“Not calling the guards?”
“Calling me by my first name.”
She turned to face him directly. “That’s only because I’m too much of a lady to call you a lowlife gutter-scum to your face. You’ve been to see Alija, I take it?”
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