by Guy Antibes
“Unfortunate.” He cleared his throat. “It’s not a putdown as your face indicates. I use it as one of my few whims—a name to use when I’m in a place where I’m unknown. Consider it a harmless affectation, but, as you noticed, one that I use as an identification mark. A touch of humorous subtlety.” He nearly smiled.
“Why am I here, Duke Northcross?” Sara tried to control her breathing.
“You may call me Passcold when we are alone. I’ve answered to that for some time.” She noticed a certain wistfulness in his voice. Was that how her mother had addressed him? At least he didn’t ask her to address him by his first name. That would have made Sara uncomfortable.
“Why am I here, uh, Passcold?” Now she knew how Willa felt when she addressed her.
Good. Another near smile. “We think West will be contacting Lady Grianna in the next day or two. He will not be happy that you’ve rejected his proposal. We don’t think the man is entirely rational when it comes to his mission.”
“What is his mission?”
Northcross steepled his fingers. “He is a rebel, but you knew that. He wants percussive powder in order to rule north Shattuk Downs. We think he’s even contacted the Grand Duke about his separation activities.”
Sara furrowed her brows. “But why would he do that? Wouldn’t the Grand Duke reject any actions by anyone to take lands from him?”
“The Grand Duke already has nobles managing parts of the Downs, but there isn’t a Duke to the north, as you know.”
Sara sat back in her chair. “So West wants to set himself up as nobility and wants the King to fund it?”
“Something like that, although I don’t think he’s interested in a title as much as he wants to run things. Hence our poking around the proposal to see if there are some indicators or it may be that he’s simply interested in the money.”
“I see.” She really didn’t, but she understood that West might not even understand his own motives.
“That’s novel, because at this point, I do not.” Northcross said. “I like to work on more facts. You might give me an opportunity to collect them. Living at Lady Worthy’s might become dangerous, however. I have a little present for you.”
“I have my knife.”
“I’m well versed on your knife skills, Sara, but I have something a bit more effective.” He pulled out two blue velvet sacks. “This is one of our new weapons. The Belonnians have a spring-powered projectile weapon and they call it a gun. It’s not even as powerful as a handbow, but their nobles carry them around. We call ours a gun, as well. You’ll notice that we’ve improved the hammer mechanism from the handbow you worked on with Hedge. This is like the chime hammer in a clock, but much more powerful.” He pulled back a lever until it clicked and then pulled the trigger.
Sara jumped when the hammer struck home. “My that’s much stronger. Does it initiate the powder reaction?”
“It does. I’ll let Hedge go over the technical details, which I’m sure you will understand better than me. I’m giving this to you and this box of balls and packets of percussive powder.” He took a wooden box from the other sack. “This level has balls and the one below, has the paper packets. I’d keep this loaded while you are in the house. I don’t think West will make the mistake of only having another miserable swordsman to defend himself against you.” Another dry smile cracked Northcross’ lips.
He gave her the two sacks. “I made a mistake, Sara.”
Her heart leapt into her throat. Was he going to tell her he was her father? She wanted him to. At that moment it was her strongest desire. She blinked and let him proceed.
“I shouldn’t have taken you off of the project. That was an error of judgment. Parthy does not produce girls of your caliber very often.” His eyes went out of focus for a moment. He cleared his throat. “You did as well with West as you could have, more than anyone has since, if truth be told. You can continue your work with Hedge if you choose, although with your new title, you might not want to.”
“I appreciate your permission.” Sara felt warm as she fought to stay her anger. He was givingherpermission? How dare he show her such condescension? How could he be so cavalier with his denying her the right to continue to work on the project last year? He didn’t realize how she felt about being shut out after she’d done so much—had sacrificed so much. Sara bit her lip. She knew her face was red.
“Ah. I said something that offended. I am sorry, Sara. I don’t know what it was, but whatever I said was spoken without malice.”
“Yes, uh, Passcold,” she said trying to regain control of her emotions. “I did take offense with your taking me off of the project with Hedge. It should have been my choice, first of all. I will be frank with you, however, I don’t wish to assist Doctor Hedge at this time, although he did offer.”
Duke Northcross looked away for a moment and waved his hand as if to rid himself of a pesky fly. “Enough of this. Be careful Sara. West is a very dangerous man and that gun is for your protection. Don’t hesitate to use it. I’ve arranged for Brownhill to take you to dinner and escort you home.” He stood up. “Stay in touch with me. I am available any time should you wish to talk.” Northcross rang a bell and the limping man opened the door.
“Thank you, Duke Northcross… for everything.” Sara couldn’t say anything else and bit her tongue for just saying that. The entire interview unnerved her.
She turned to leave, but Northcross stopped her. “Take these.” He handed her the two velvet bags as she left the room, she couldn’t read the emotion on his face.
The limping man closed the door to the dukes’ apartment and helped her on with her cloak. “The Duke wanted you to meet with Klark Brownhill. If you’ll follow me.” She followed him through the building.
“Have you worked for the Duke a long time?” Relief made her weak now that the encounter had ended. She needed a change in subject.
“Aye, miss. He’s a good man. A bit gruff, if I might be so bold, but you won’t find a more dedicated servant of the Crown.”
The man had given Sara even more to think about. Her conversation with the Duke had been incredibly awkward. He must know she was his daughter. The man actually cooled her anger with an apology. She never thought she would live to see the day that happened. Passcold. How many people would he invite to call him that? Confusion ruled her mind. She shook her head and the next thing she knew, Klark rose from a bench in a hall.
“Sara. The Duke gave me a break tonight so I could take you out to dinner. Or should I say, Countess?”
“It’s still Sara, Klark. It’s good to see you again.”
“What are you carrying?”
“Oh, you can think of it as a Winter’s Rise gift from the Duke.”
Klark blinked as he helped her into her cloak. “I didn’t know the man knew the holiday existed.” He quickly looked around, afraid that someone might have overheard. “We can go to another restaurant since we’re all the way over here. It’s a lot more expensive thanThe Pretty Penny, but the Duke is paying.” Klark grinned and that brought a smile to her lips.
The wind blew as they turned a corner and the cold silenced their conversation until they ducked into the restaurant. This was more opulent than their normal haunt. Sara could tell that many of the diners were noble. They were led to a secluded table and as she looked around it seemed that most of the tables were out of her line of sight, certainly by design.
“Have you looked at West’s proposal?” Sara said, still looking at the dark green and light wood decor of the restaurant. Conversations were muffled by the thick carpet, dark green with golden leaves and accented with red berries. It reminded her of the faculty dining room, but the restaurant felt much more plush.
Klark shook his head. “The Duke’s got other men to do that. I’m like a messenger, but I have still been out in the field.”
“What is the field?” Sara said.
“I’ve been observing West. Remember, we know where he is and I’ve spent the last two w
eeks looking at the back of the house I told you about and haven’t seen a thing.”
“So you missed Winter’s Rise so you could observe West’s privy?” Sara said. They both laughed. It was so easy to forget her confusion with Northcross when Klark talked to her—a wonderful distraction.
“I did except for when I took off for a bit to see you at our house.”
“Thank you for that. I had a surprisingly good Winter’s Rise.”
“I did for a few minutes.” He grinned. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you about your presentation. You caused quite a stir, you know.”
Sara laughed. “I’d rather not have. I don’t have any desire for a title. I had hoped just to be recognized as a Goldagle.”
Klark’s eyes sparkled. “Well, we’re both able to automatically get a place at the University, if you can succeed in getting the Women’s College approved, but there are plenty of objections.”
Sara’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know about that. I thought all of this was a formality.”
“No one has even told Lady Worthy. The King’s Council may have to vote to approve the funds and the probable votes are against, but it’s a close thing, though. Your proposal will have to be very good.”
The stakes were that high? She didn’t even realize, but Sara would do her best. She was even more convinced that she followed the right path, and then a thought came into her mind.
“Could West have developed a proposal that would have been rejected? On purpose? Perhaps the embezzlement was meant to sink the Women’s College. Why would West do that?”
Klark thought hard as their dinner was served. “I’ll talk to the men examining the documents. Good catch!”
They both stopped talking to start eating. “The Duke said I could call him Passcold in private.”
That surprised Klark. “I’ve never heard of that. Perhaps it’s a privilege for the privileged. Want it or not, you are a titled noble. Could you bring yourself to do it?” He grinned.
“I did, twice.” They both laughed again. “I first told him to call me Sara. I don’t know if I can get used to being called Countess or Excellency.”
“The king said that it’s a title in flux. Why is that? Did the Royal Genealogist come up with that?”
Sara laughed, “He must have. I’ve been told I’m the last Goldagle. Of course there are Seb and Enos, so I’m the oldest of the last Goldagles.”
Klark shook his head. They talked of school and wondered what was going on in Obridge. Lily had returned to Stonebridge and Lisha Temple had been granted a professorship at the Women’s School after Sara had left, among other things. Klark had heard about Lily.
Klark let Sara off at the house.
“As long as I have the carriage, I’ll take it to my assignment—anything to get out of this cold even for a few minutes. Don’t forget these.” He handed Sara the blue velvet bags. “What’s in here anyway?”
Sara leaned in. “I’ll only tell you. It’s a gun in one bag and ball and powder in the other.” Flashing her eyes, she kissed Klark on the cheek. “Thank you for dinner, even if you are of lower rank.” She turned and ran to the door, waving at the departing carriage.
The door had been locked. That was odd. Willa told her she’d leave it open. She’d just walk around the side of the house and come in the servant’s entrance. Willa had taken her that way once and shown her the hidden key.
The moon at least gave her some light as she made her way along the alley that led to the single carriage garage. Three horses were tied up to the back fence.
A footman stepped out of the shadows, scaring Sara. He looked very agitated.
“Miss, Your Excellency.”
“Sara will do. What’s going on?”
“Burglars. They’ve captured Lady Grianna.”
“Where’s Willa?”
The man put a hand to his cheek. “I don’t know. Maybe they have her, too. There has been a lot of yelling. I think the lady knows at least one of the men.”
“Get the guard here quickly. Is the back door open?” Sara felt a flash of fear and then fought against it as she vowed to protect her hostess and, quite possibly, Willa.
“Yes, miss.” He ran out the way Sara had come in.
Sara took some deep breaths and crept as silently as she could into the kitchen. She took off her coat and gloves and removed her shoes. Then she took the gun out of the bag and put a powder packet down the tube, dropping in a ball. She noticed a rod attached to the side of the gun and detached it to press both of them firmly down to the bottom. She wished that she could practice, but this was an emergency. Sara pushed all thoughts of the evening aside as she concentrated on saving Grianna. She put both hands out on the table and tried to push the awful fear that coursed through her body, away as well.
Sara went through a few loosening exercises and blew out her breath. Her stomach flipped and her palms were sweaty. She couldn’t let Lady Grianna and Willa down. Willa might even have her knife, but if the burglars watched her she couldn’t pull it out. She had no doubts about the woman’s willingness to use her weapon.
She proceeded after tying the bag with the balls and powder to the belt of her dress and cocked the gun. She drew her knife and advanced into the hall. She could hear West’s voice shouting at Grianna in the library. He didn’t sound too stable as he railed on about his proposal. Grianna pled with him to stop shouting in a tearful voice.
Sara looked through the crack on the hinge side of the door. West stood over Grianna who sat on a straight chair. One of the men guarded Willa off to the side. Sara knew the third man, Rester Silver. His red hair leaked out of his hat. They all had swords drawn and Sara took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to keep going for if she stopped at all, she felt she might be paralyzed with fear. Keep moving, she told herself.
West struck Grianna with a closed fist and she fell off the chair to the floor. Sara couldn’t let this go on. She walked into the room. “Leave this house, now!” She yelled the command out.
West stopped his harangue. He looked casually at Rester. “Kill her.”
The redhead advanced on Sarah. The former student, who she had met at the College, grimly advanced and Sara reluctantly pulled the trigger of the gun and was thrown back against the doorframe. An explosion rang in her ears as smoke filled the air. Rester lay on the ground, still.
Sara threw the gun against a wall and picked up Rester’s sword. “I gave you the opportunity to leave.”
West stopped his harangue and gazed at the gun, lying on the other side of Sara. “That weapon! I want that! Get her.” West motioned his remaining henchman to close on Sara.
The man swung his sword as if to shear off Sara’s head. She ducked and used Rester’s sword to deflect his heavier weapon and then spun to swipe at the man’s midsection. Her blade caught air as he jumped back and then lunged forward, plunging the tip of his blade towards Sara’s midsection. She shifted the path of his sword but it still ran alongside her hip, cutting into her new dress and scoring her flesh. She felt the burn and she seethed inside. West just stood watching.
An overhead swing came in from the top and Sara had barely enough time to cross her two blades. Her wrists felt like they had broken as the man’s blade descended and it went no farther than the guards of both weapons. This time Sara moved back but tripped on her dress, sending her sprawling on her back. The shock caused her to drop her sword and knife.
She lay defenseless as her opponent advanced on her and lifted his sword high in the air. Sara closed her eyes and then opened them when she heard the man scream. The end of a thin blade stuck out of the man’s chest. As he fell, Willa pulled it out, her face grim.
Sara scrambled for her weapons and, as she began to stand, West knocked her down before she got to her feet and ran out of the room with the gun in his hand, leaving his sword on the floor where he picked up the gun. Willa dropped her blade and ran to Lady Grianna, who had fainted and had remained unconscious throughout the fight.
Sara caught up with him as he fumbled with the lock at the front door with one hand and poked him in his back. “Drop the gun.” Her hand shook as she pushed the tip of her knife further into his back. Part of her wanted to push the knife all the way in, but Sara could barely hold onto the knife with her near-lifeless wrists.
West dropped it, but now with his two hands, he quickly finished with the lock and ran out into the street. Sara, only in her stocking feet and with a gashed hip couldn’t follow and helplessly watched him run, limping away.
She stood, watching West disappear into the night, fighting with herself over running out into the cold night in stockinged feet. Sara heard the pounding of horses as she shut the door.
“Sara! Let me in!” Klark yelled. She re-opened it and Klark grabbed her. “Are you all right?”
“See to Lady Worthy,” Sara said. Anything to divert attention from her own wound. “West has fled into the night, he might not be far.”
Klark ordered a few men back out into the darkness.
Willa looked at Klark. “My Lady’ll be fine.”
“Rester Silver!” Klark said as he turned over the body. “So he was the red-headed man.” He fumbled in the other man’s pocket and pulled out a letter and read the signature. “This man was a Red Swallow from Dry River. Damn that West!” he said to the other men in the room.
Sara sat on a chair as her side began to burn again. “He ran away just as you arrived, as usual. This time with just a tiny scratch on his back. “I would have just as soon stop him with the knife, but I could hardly hold onto my knife.” She laid it on a hall table and collapsed on a bench.
Willa came to her side. “Upstairs. I’ll be with you as soon as I awaken her ladyship.” She looked at the five men crowded into the library. “Two of you, get the ladyship on that couch. Now!” They immediately gathered up Lady Grianna and arranged her on the sofa.
“I’ll help you to your room,” Klark said. Sara let him since her wrists began to hurt as much as her wounded hip.
She couldn’t ball her hands into fists and every other step became painful. Klark ended up carrying her all the way to her room.
