Hensen didn’t react to the letter’s content, but he felt like he should check his hind quarters for tooth marks.
“Sir? Are you all right?”
The thief chided himself; staring wide-eyed at the letter without so much as a twitch was a reaction in itself. Dropping the letter, he reached for his tea.
“I’m fine, my dear.” He took a careful sip and returned the cup to the saucer without so much as a tremor. Proud of his achievement, he considered the letter again. “We do, however, have a concern.” He passed the letter to her. “Baron Patino has thanked us for our acceptance of his contract, and also appreciates our interest in his affairs. He asks if we wish to know any additional details about his personal life, lovers or associations.”
“But how could he know?” Her eyes, wide with shock, scanned the letter.
She’s even more beautiful when she’s terrified, Hensen thought, though she really should learn to be a swan. “Possibilities come to mind, none particularly pleasant. Either his people are better than ours, which I find hard to fathom, or he has eyes in our camp.”
“A spy?” Kiesha swallowed, the smooth muscles of her throat moving in waves. “A spy inside the Thieves Guild?”
“So it would seem, my dear. But that’s not the half of it.” Hensen withdrew a tiny silver flask from his waistcoat and unscrewed the lid, then poured half the contents into his tea and stirred it. Tucking the flask back into his pocket, he sipped the mixture of dark tea and spiced rum. As the warmth seeped from his stomach outward, calming his jangling nerves, he sighed and explained. “By sending this letter, he has told us two things: he knows we are watching him, and he does not care.”
“So…what do we do, sir?”
“Other than sit and drink spiked tea, you mean?” He gave her a little smile, which seemed to reduce her state of terror to a simple case of dread.
“Yes, sir, besides that.”
“We do exactly as our contract states, my dear.” He sipped the brew again, enjoying the mixture of flavors, the heat easing down his throat, and the feeling of exhilaration brought on by danger.
“Should we pull our surveillance on Baron Patino?”
“Oh, by no means, my dear! If we do that, we show fear.” We must be swans, he thought, but we must be vigilant for hungry reptiles. “We play the game, my dear. And we play it very, very carefully.”
Chapter XV
A rare break in the rain left Twailin looking as fresh as a newly minted coin. Her cobbled streets shone as if they’d been freshly scrubbed, and the sun-glittered minarets of the Duke’s Palace thrust into the sky like golden spears high atop the bluff. The beautiful spring day drew the city’s populace out of their homes in a bustle of life that Lad had not seen in months. Vendors hawked wares from their carts, tinkers hammered on pots or turned their wrenches at the backs of their colorful wagons, and couples strolled arm in arm, smiling at the bright, beautiful day. Even Mya wore brighter colors today, though to Lad she still looked like an assassin. Her blousy purple shirt fluttered in the breeze, but couldn’t hide the daggers at her hips, and his practiced eye caught the glint of another beneath the fold of her right trouser leg where it was tucked into her high, soft boot.
The bustle, the colors, the voices and clatter, all brought back memories of Lad’s first day in the city. He recalled how it had seemed like such a wonder, such a miracle. It still did.
Leave Twailin…
He loved this city; his life revolved around it. In reality, this was the place of his birth, the place where he became a human being. Twailin was the mother and father he had never known. Leaving it would be like leaving his family. However, the choice looming over his head—leave Twailin or risk losing everyone he loved—was no choice. He didn’t want Lissa to grow up without a father, as he had. Every street, alley, pub and shop of this miraculous place would be forever etched in his memory, but in the end, Twailin was just a city. There were other cities, other places they could live.
There’s only one Wiggen, one Lissa…
Mya stopped her brisk pace at a fruit vendor and picked out two ripe mangoes. She tossed one to Lad, flipped a penny to the shopkeeper, and continued on their way. She produced a tiny knife from her belt and started to peel the tough skin from the fruit in strips, holding it to avoid the dripping juice. Lad simply stripped the rind back with his teeth and bit into the flesh, ignoring the sweet, sticky nectar that escaped his lips.
As he followed her stiff back, he realized that Mya had been strangely quiet all morning. Usually she chatted, telling him their schedule, which people they would meet with, what to watch for, but today she had a distant, almost brusque manner.
Is she angry about last night’s argument? They had argued before, and she had never held a grudge. Was it about the assassination attempt? He still didn’t think that Mya had tried to have him killed. It was more likely that his savior had been one of her Hunters watching out for him. She hasn’t mentioned it, but that could be why she’s acting strangely. He decided not to mention it. At least not yet. He had more important things to tell her.
Lad watched everything as they walked, even more vigilant than usual with the memory of his brush with death so fresh. Still, his mind spun away on his real dilemma. I’ve got to tell her I’m leaving, but how will she react? It didn’t bode well that she already seemed upset.
A clattering wagon approached, the canvas sides rolled up to display copper pots and pans, all jingling and jangling in a musical cacophony. The vendor sang out his jaunty rhyme to the crowds: “Copper, copper, pots! Copper, copper pans! Better’n tin. Better’n gold! Best in all the lands!”
Tuppence Way was narrow, so pedestrians, Lad and Mya included, crowded to the side to avoid the wagon. As the noisy vehicle passed, one of its wheels dropped into the hole where a cobble was missing, pitching the wagon to one side. The mule snorted, the vendor shouted, and several pots clattered to the cobbles. In an instant, Lad observed it all and dismissed it as harmless…until a figure darted toward them.
On such a bright, sunny day, amid bustling happy crowds, the threat of assassins seemed remote. A good killer would know this, however, and might hope that the festive atmosphere would lower their guard. Lad certainly knew this, and his partially eaten mango plopped to the street.
Lad moved… Step, turn, pivot.
When an attack is imminent, position yourself to greatest advantage. Remember!
His position, between the commotion and Mya, might not be to his best advantage, but it was to hers. His job was to protect her life, and he was far better able than she to meet an assassin’s assault.
Assess the threat at hand, but do not commit until the appropriate action is determined. Remember!
The figure, a small boy, dashed toward the wagon, grabbed a fallen pot and scurried away; a clumsy bit of thievery…or a distraction.
Noise and motion are often used to hide an attack. Remember!
Lad spun, his eyes scanning the crowd, the buildings, the roofs. Beside him, he saw Mya mirror his motion, her drawn dagger glinting in the sun. They ended up back to back, Mya’s shoulder blades pressed against his. They stood poised for several heartbeats, waiting for an attack.
Nothing happened. No assassin struck from the shadows, no arrows flew from the rooftops.
“It’s nothing, Mya.” Lad stepped away and turned toward her, glimpsing her swift resheathing of her dagger. She’s fast! The thought prompted a memory of her performance in the alley days ago. Killing two trained assassins without getting a scratch was no easy task. His eyebrows drew together thoughtfully.
Mya straightened and noticed Lad looking at her. Nudging her fallen fruit with her toe, she gave a bark of nervous laughter. “Little bastard ruined a perfectly good mango. Come on, we need to get out of here.”
They turned away from the ranting pot maker as he recovered his fallen wears. A small crowd of onlookers had stopped to gawk, and a few eyes lingered on them. Lad could hear the whispered suppositions, as he led the way up
the street, still scanning, listening, feeling the city around them.
Satisfied that no trouble followed, he glanced back at Mya. “You’re very quick.”
“I’ve been training a little.” Her defensive glare took him aback, but she quickly looked away. “I’ve got to spend my money on something, don’t I?”
“More than a little.” He nodded back up the street. “Back there, you did exactly as I did, scanning for threats, ready to meet them. That’s more than a little training.”
“Yes, well…” She shrugged casually. “I’ve been training a lot. It kept me alive the other night, didn’t it?”
“You’re right.” Lad saw the opening to broach the subject of his leaving, and took it. “You’ll be fine without me.”
“What?” Mya stopped so suddenly that he took two paces before he realized that he no longer heard her footsteps behind him. When he turned back to look at her, the astonishment in her eyes almost made him smile. For once, he had truly caught her off guard. “What did you say?”
“I’m leaving, Mya.”
“No.” He watched her face transform, tried to read the fleeting emotions there and failed. Finally, her features hardened, her lips pressed in a thin line. That he could read; she was angry. “No, you’re not leaving, Lad. Our agreement—”
“Our agreement was made almost five years ago, Mya. You’re safer now. You’ve been training and your skills are very good, as you just demonstrated. Besides, you now have dozens of trustworthy Hunters to protect you. You don’t need me.”
“Safer now? Are you insane?” Her shrill question drew a few glances from passersby. She noticed the attention and resumed walking, her pace faster, her strides stiff. “How do you figure I’m safer now than before, Lad? The last attack was the worst yet! Were you not there?”
“I was there, Mya, but two good Hunters could have protected you as well as I did.” He wasn’t going to back down. If he wanted a life for his family, they had to leave. He countered with the argument he’d been rehearsing all morning, and hoped she’d buy it. “The issue is not my protection of you, but yours of me. You can’t control Norwood, and you can’t keep him from investigating Vonlith’s death. Vonlith worked for the Grandfather. Eventually, Norwood’s going to find me.”
“So what? We can beat anyone he sends after you, and I’ve got enough people watching to know when he’s going to try it. Hells, I can tell you what he had for his godsdamned breakfast! Norwood’s no danger to you, Lad. You’ve got to trust me on that!”
“It’s not just that, Mya.” Lad grasped her arm and pulled her into an adjacent alley for a measure of privacy. The pounding of her heart sounded loud and fast in his ears, and her face was flushed. He had never seen her so agitated. She was even more upset than he had expected. It was clear that his Norwood argument wasn’t working, so he decided on another tack. Watching her reaction closely, he said, “Someone tried to kill me last night.”
“What? When?”
Her surprise seemed genuine, which in turn surprised him. But if Mya didn’t know about last night’s assassination attempt, then who tried to kill him, and who saved his life?
“Last night, about three blocks from the Golden Cockerel.” Still, her astonishment seemed authentic.
“Tell me what happened. Everything. Right now!”
“I thought you might already know…” A quick shake of her head in denial, no guile or deception in her eyes, only something he couldn’t quite identify. Worry? For me? He continued. “A man was beating a prostitute, and I stopped him. She held out a hand for me to help her up, but before I could, someone shot her with a poisoned dart.”
“Shot her, or shot at you and hit her?”
“At first I thought it was intended for me, but it hit her right in the neck, too accurate for chance. When I looked more closely, I found a poisoned ring on her finger…on the hand she had offered to me. Whoever shot her saved my life.”
“That’s…” Her voice trailed off, questions in her eyes.
“I thought maybe you sent one of your Hunters to look out for me.”
Mya shook her head slowly. “Who would do that?”
“Kill me or save me?”
“A poisoned ring…” She glanced down at her own hand, and shot him a quick look of irony, “That’s professional. I’d be willing to bet that one of the other masters is behind the attack, but who’s looking out for you?”
“If it wasn’t you, I don’t know, Mya, but it’s really not the issue.” He gritted his teeth and reaffirmed his resolve. “I’m leaving because I want a life for my family, a life where my daughter won’t wake up every morning wondering if her father was killed last night, or if it’s safe to step out her front door.”
“I can protect them! I can put people—”
“No, Mya! I don’t want your Hunters standing guard over my family.”
“I don’t understand you, Lad! What in the Nine Hells did you expect?” There was scorn in her tone now. “People like us don’t have families!”
“No, Mya. People like you don’t have families. I am a husband and a father. I am not like you.”
Rage contorted her features, and he knew she would threaten him before she opened her mouth.
“You think you can just walk away from this? Away from me? You think I’ll let you walk away?”
He smiled at her, but there was no amusement in it. “Don’t, Mya.”
“Don’t what? Try to convince you that if you leave, I’m as good as dead?”
Her quick change of attack caught him off guard, but he recovered. “No, I mean don’t threaten me. You can’t stop me from leaving. Your skills are good, but not that good. If you threaten my family, I will kill you.”
Her eyes flashed with shock.
“After years of protecting me, you’d do that?” Behind her disbelief, something else, something he couldn’t read, added a tremor to her voice. “You’d kill me?”
“I love my family more than anything else in the world, Mya.” He thrust his words at her low and hard. “Don’t test me. You’ll lose.”
“Godsdamnit, Lad, I need you! I…” Mya bit her lip, one of her minor tells; she was holding back. “There’s nobody else I can trust like you!”
“You’re wrong, Mya. Your Hunters are loyal. Trust them. They surround you at the Golden Cockerel. You’re safe there.”
“Not like I’m safe with you! If you go, I’m dead.”
The desperation in her eyes sent a pang of guilt through him, but he forced it aside. Wiggen… Lissa… He couldn’t let her change his mind.
“No you’re not, Mya. You’re an expert at survival. You’ll be fine. And you can’t stop me from leaving.”
Mya turned away and stood with her back to him for a long moment, her fists clenched, her whole body as tense as an over-wound spring. Finally she strode away, flinging her words back at him.
“All right, for the gods’ sake! But give me some time, a few days to put together a network of bodyguards to take over your job. If you leave before I get them in place, you may as well kill me yourself on your way out the door.”
Lad thought about it as he fell in behind her. A few more days wouldn’t hurt; he could give her that. It wasn’t a matter of him trusting her to keep her word, but simple logic. He’d warned her, and she knew he was serious. If she dared to threaten his family, he would kill her on his way out the door.
“Five days, Mya, then I leave.”
“Fine.”
He followed her for a time, maintaining his vigilance and girding his worries. Not until they reached the looming warehouses of the South Docks District did Lad finally realize where they were headed and break the uncomfortable silence.
“We’re going to Youtrin’s warehouse? There’s a meeting of the masters?”
“Figured that out, did you?” Anger and scorn edged her words, but he’d expected it. Mya didn’t like to lose an argument.
“Yes, but you usually warn me. I didn’t think you were att
ending meetings anymore.”
“Then you didn’t think of everything, did you? The summons I received made it clear that attendance wasn’t optional.” She glanced back at him. The desperation and fear in her expression had been replaced by anger and resentment. “Just do your job and keep your mouth shut.”
“Yes, Mya.” Lad stepped up his vigilance. If they were walking into a nest of vipers, he had to be at the top of his game.
Master Woefler tilted the tiny crystal vial back and forth in the light from the window, smiling as it cast a flurry of rainbows around Norwood’s office. The annoyed captain would have snatched the vial away had he not been so daunted by the light brown liquid inside.
Sergeant Tamir nodded at the glittering vial. “We found that tucked in the dead woman’s dress, sir.”
“It really is the most deadly toxin I’ve ever encountered. No more than a tenth of an ounce, and it’s enough to kill every member of the Royal Guard twice over.” Woefler seemed elated by the lethality of the substance. He placed the vial carefully on Norwood’s desk. “An alchemist colleague of mine identified it.”
“After we visited four other alchemist shops first,” Tamir added with a note of annoyance.
Woefler ignored the sergeant’s comment and continued his speech. “It comes from the spines of a small tropical fish, the two-step stonefish. It’s so named because if you step on one, you can take about two more steps before you fall dead.”
Tamir rolled his eyes. He’d obviously been listening to Woefler prattle on all morning.
Wizards! Norwood thought. Give them a spot of mold to look at, and a band of ogres could tromp through the room without drawing attention. “That’s very interesting, Master Woefler, but it provides me with absolutely no information to help solve this murder.”
“Oh, but it does!” Woefler picked up the vial and turned it in the sunlight again. “This is rare, Captain. Very rare! Consequently, we should be able to find out who supplied it.”
“Which means more visits to more alchemist shops,” Tamir muttered.
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