by J. V. Jones
She had spent the night in the stock room, among all of Widow Furbish’s embroidery paraphernalia, falling asleep on the floor amid a nest of rough blankets and thinly stuffed cushions. The blankets smelled vaguely of camphor and old dried goods, and the entire room had the dry, woody feel of an attic. Shelves crammed with all manner of materials lined the walls: bolts of cloth, reels of thread, wooden frames, and other odd-shaped things that Tessa had no name for.
Spying what looked to be a loose length of ribbon hanging down from a work top, Tessa yanked on the end, attempting to pull it out from the papers that were piled high on top of it.
The moment she pulled, Tessa knew she had made a mistake. The layers of boards, cloth, and parchment that lay on top of the ribbon slid off the table and went crashing to the floor. Black dust, lots of it, wafted up from the odd stack of materials, billowing over her dress and catching in her nose and her throat.
“Damn,” she hissed, eyes closed, hands fanning the dust cloud away from her face. What was this stuff? Mister Furbish’s remains?
“The pounces!”
Tessa spun round in time to see Widow Furbish burst into the room. Ignoring Tessa, the woman dashed over to the pile of papers on the floor, knelt, and began dusting them off. “You stupid girl!” she hissed, gathering a pile of the papers in her arms. “Don’t you know better than to upset the powder?” Knees cracking, she stood upright and began laying the boards and parchment on the table. She shook her head savagely. “It will cost you, you know. I’ll have to bring Bernice in to spread them again, not to mention the originals—looks like one of them’s been cracked to me.”
“What are you talking about?” Tessa brushed down her dress with venom. She was beginning to get tired of being ordered around and scolded.
Widow Furbish snorted. “The pounces, girl. For copying the embroidery patterns. Some of these originals are years old—cost the late Mister Furbish a fortune, they did.”
Tessa, still unclear about what the widow was talking about, went to touch one of the thickly painted patterns. The widow slapped her away. “Get out!” she cried. “Get out before you do any more damage.”
As a reflex action, Tessa raised her own hand to retaliate, but she willed herself to stop before returning the blow. Slapping the woman back would only make everything worse. “I’m sorry,” she said, teeth grated. “I’ll be on my way.”
“You just be sure to tell Lord Ravis that he’ll be paying for the damage.” Widow Furbish shook her head some more. “The gods only know what replacing an original will cost.”
Despite everything, Tessa could not resist issuing a huff of disbelief as she walked toward the door. Widow Furbish was just the type to exaggerate the cost of any damage. She was probably cracking the originals herself right now—whatever that meant. Just as she stepped from the room, Tessa remembered the sketch. For some reason she didn’t want to leave it where Widow Furbish might find it. Bending, she scooped up the scrap of parchment, folded it in half, and tucked it away down her bodice. If Widow Furbish saw the action, she didn’t say a word.
As Tessa crossed into the main room, she was forced to dodge Swigg to get the door. The man smelled of booze, and his eyes were watering. The vats he’d seen to last night were obviously something to do with brewing. And from the look of him, he’d been sampling his wares. Either that or he’d fallen into them headfirst.
As she went to raise the latch on the door, Tessa realized she still had the ribbon in her hand. Turning her back on Swigg, she threaded the ribbon through the ring and tied it around her neck, slipping the slack beneath her bodice. It was getting quite crowded down there. Feeling rather pleased with herself, she stepped onto the bridge.
The early morning sun dazzled her, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust. Blinking, she focused on a dark form moving toward her.
“Well, I must say you’re the first woman I’ve ever met who looks worse after freshening herself up.” Smiling, Ravis took her arm. “Tell me, is black dust on one’s face considered a beauty enhancement where you are from?”
The powder! Tessa rubbed a hand against her face: it came back black. Seeing her look of horror, Ravis laughed. Tessa felt herself blushing. She must look terrible.
“Here,” Ravis said, handing her a silk square pulled smoothly from his tunic. “Use this.”
Tessa took it, turned her head away, spit on it, then scoured her face. Ravis had the decency to look out over the bridge while she cleaned herself up.
“Did the widow give you that dress?” Ravis asked as they came to the section of the bridge that curved down to the bank.
“No, I exchanged it for my clothes.”
“Aah.”
The skeptical syllable turned Tessa’s head. “What do you mean, aah?”
“I mean you struck a poor deal.” They reached the end of the bridge and took a path down a narrow street. Ravis carried on talking as normal, but his eyes flicked in all directions, as if he were expecting trouble or worse. Tessa suddenly felt nervous. She became aware of a bitter taste in her mouth: the powder from the pounces.
Ravis continued speaking, his light tone and manner in direct contrast with his bearing. “The dye used to color your undershirt is the most precious to be had on the continent. Women spend years saving up just to buy a stretch of cloth that shade of blue.”
Tessa’s eyes narrowed. So that was why Widow Furbish was so eager to get her hands on the blouse. But sky blue? “Surely gold or purple or some other royal color would be more precious?”
Ravis shook his head. “No. Light blue dyes are made from lapis lazuli, which is mined from the foothills beyond the Azhensas. It takes a full year for the raw stone to reach Rhaize by cart.” As he spoke, Ravis guided Tessa down a wide street and into the shade cast by west-facing buildings.
“Azhensas?”
Ravis gave her a hard look. “They are a range of mountains far to the east.”
Tessa looked quickly away. From Ravis’ tone she guessed she’d just made a glaring error. For all she knew the Azhensas were as well-known here as the Himalayas were at home. To cover her mistake, she said quickly, “Have you ever seen them?”
“I have been to many places and seen many things, none of which are fitting discourse for daylight hours in Bay’Zell.”
The hairs on Tessa’s arms stood up. Ravis’ voice was cold, hard, and unpleasant. What had she said to change his mood so quickly? Breathless from the pace Ravis was setting, and shaking from his tone of voice, Tessa stopped in her tracks. She didn’t care for Ravis’ company anymore.
Ravis pulled at her arm. “Come,” he hissed. “We can’t be caught idling on the streets.”
“You mean you can’t,” Tessa said very precisely. “I can idle all I want. In fact, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” With that she snatched her arm from Ravis’ hold and set back in the direction they’d just come from.
Ravis was upon her in an instant. “You fool!” he hissed, his fingers biting into the flesh of her upper arm. “You won’t last till midday on your own in this city.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of.” Again, Tessa went to walk away.
“I know you’re not from here.” Ravis made no move to stop her this time. He stood his ground. His voice was very low as he spoke, but it carried well all the same. “You’re not from this city or this kingdom or even this continent. Any child on the street knows more about the world than you do.”
Tessa stopped in midstep. Spinning around, she looked at Ravis. How much did he know or guess about how she had come to be here?
Ravis’ smile gave nothing away. “And you may have forgotten, but when I found you yesterday morning you were in no fit state to look after yourself.” He shrugged. “Then again, I may have misinterpreted the whole situation: those two men I found you with may have been about to proposition, not murder you. I’ve killed men before now for more foolish mistakes than that.”
Even though Tessa hated his
sarcasm, she knew he was right. She was in no position to go storming off on her own. Where would she go? Back to Widow Furbish’s parlor? She glanced down at her dust-covered dress. She would hardly be welcome there at the moment.
The truth was she was alone in a city she didn’t know. A foreign city with narrow-shuttered buildings harboring lots of shade and thin streets winding past dark doorways, crumbling arches, and dead ends. She already knew the alleys were dangerous. And judging from the look on Ravis’ face, wide-open streets like this one were too.
No. Going off on her own wasn’t a good idea. Yet, she thought, gaze dropping from Ravis’ face to his white-knuckled hands, there were advantages to be gained by pretending she was still considering stalking off. Ravis ill liked standing here in the street where anyone could see him. The desire to move on was so strong, it could be seen as a palpable force in his face. His teeth scored away at his scar.
Looking at Ravis, seeing his gaze darting from an old man pulling a cart, to two stout-hipped women balancing a tray laden with pies between them, to a young man standing in a shop doorway doing nothing at all, Tessa guessed he could be persuaded to make a concession or two.
Toe tracing a figure eight in the dirt, she said, “I’ll come with you only if you agree to answer some questions.”
“What questions?”
Gaze carefully on the ground, Tessa tried to think of some questions she needed answered. She didn’t want Ravis guessing she had none ready to ask. “Very well, tell me where you’re taking me. And why.”
Ravis bit at his lip. “Walk with me, and I will answer your questions.”
Hearing the tone of his voice, Tessa could tell he was running out of patience, so she let herself be led along the street. There was little to be gained from pushing him further. Besides, Ravis’ nervousness was catching, and Tessa found herself eyeing everyone who crossed her path with the same suspicious glances.
The street they were on was lined with shops. Tables laden with carved boxes, bolts of cloth, wheels of cheese, pyramids of fruit, and bundles of spices jutted out onto the road. Shopkeepers stood guard by their wares; some carried brass scales, others pewter scoops, bone spoons, lead weights, or coiled wire. All had a club or stick tucked in their belts.
Morning was passing, and the shade provided by the buildings slimmed to a dark line. Seagulls shrieked overhead and a sharp breeze sent shop signs creaking back and forth. Tessa’s hair blew in her face.
“You were about to tell me where we are going?” she prompted as they turned into another, less populated street.
“I’m taking you to a frie—” Ravis caught himself. “A business associate of mine. I expect him to loan me some money so I can leave Rhaize.”
“So why take me?”
Ravis raised an eyebrow but didn’t deign to look Tessa’s way. “You are here purely so I can keep an eye on you.”
The arrogance of this statement annoyed Tessa, yet she said nothing, preferring to ask more questions before Ravis grew tired of the game. “Why are you so anxious to leave Rhaize? It seems like a perfectly fine place to me.”
Ravis turned on her. “By all the gods, woman! I will not be questioned like a prisoner dog-hooked to a wall. My private affairs are just that: private.” Having reached a fork in the road, he cut sharply to the left, his fingers bearing down on her arm much harder than was necessary. “This way.”
Tessa felt a flutter of fear. At five feet three and a hundred and twelve pounds, she couldn’t put up much of a fight if things came to it. Certainly not enough to overpower this tall and powerful man at her side. She’d have to settle for a swift kick to his shins, followed by an even quicker retreat. Tessa smiled despite herself. The idea of kicking Ravis appealed to her.
The district was gradually changing. The farther away they got from the river, the better the buildings and the people looked. Dirt roads gave way to cobbled streets, and the smell of baking bread and woodsmoke mixed with, then overpowered, the stench of rotting waste. Tessa’s stomach rumbled. For the first time in over twenty-four hours she thought of food. Breakfast: bacon, eggs—not scrambled—mushrooms, tomatoes, and toast. Tessa’s stomach rumbled again. Plenty of hot buttered toast.
To stop her mind from torturing her stomach, she asked the first question that popped into her head. “You said ‘by all the gods’ before. Does that mean you have more than one god here in Rhaize?”
Ravis made no move to answer the question, didn’t even acknowledge hearing it, so Tessa followed his gaze to see what was distracting him. His attention was focused on a group of young men blocking the pathway ahead. “Keep your eyes down,” he ordered.
Tessa felt her face coloring. “But I was just looking—”
“Women don’t just look in Rhaize. Women hold their peace and know their place and open their legs when needed. Now be quiet and do as I say.” Ravis pulled her arm to the right. “Follow me.” He steered her to the far side of the street, away from the group of men.
Even though Tessa was looking down, she saw Ravis’ free hand stray to the knife at his belt. She smelled his sweat.
A second later one of the men called out. “Hey, mate! Fancy sharing your good fortune? She looks more than woman enough for two.”
One of his companions, a stocky man with a broken nose, cried out in agreement. Another man whispered something that Tessa couldn’t quite catch, and then all five men laughed at once.
Tessa felt Ravis tense. “Ignore them,” he told her quietly, fingers closing around the hilt of his knife.
Tessa felt her heart pumping in her chest. Despite Ravis’ warning, she risked another glance at the men. “Are you going to fight them?”
Ravis made a hard sound in his throat. “For both our sakes I hope not. Odds of five to one are a little too high for my liking.”
Tessa shuddered. Why did he have to sound so brutal? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two of the men moving toward them. A third man, the tallest, held his position against the wall, a fourth was slapping a club into the palm of his hand, and a fifth was making crude gestures with his hips.
Ravis didn’t take his eyes off them. Looking at the expression on his face, Tessa felt her stomach clench. A hot flush of panic rolled up her chest. Things were getting too much. Ravis’ brutal words jarred in her thoughts. The fourth man slapped the club loudly. The fifth man shouted an obscenity. Tessa felt herself becoming stiff. She knew from experience that tinnitus would soon follow. There were too many noises, too many things happening all at once.
The sun slipped behind a bank of clouds, plunging the street into shade. The sound of wood cracking against wood filled the air as a street full of vendors decided that now was exactly the right time to close shop. People scuttled into doorways or took the fastest, shortest turnoff they could find.
“On my word run back the way we came. Don’t stop until you get to Parso Bridge.” Ravis spoke between clenched teeth. His scar was white.
Tessa was rigid. She could barely move her legs. The pulse points around her temples began to throb. Any minute now the ringing would start.
“Did you hear what I said?” Ravis’ voice was harsh.
Dazed, Tessa nodded. “Run back the way we came.”
The two men were feet away now. The other three were on the move, gravitating inward to form a wall across the path. The man who had first shouted out drew a knife. His companion rolled up his sleeves.
Tessa swallowed, looked down.
“Come on, bitch. Show us what you’ve got.”
“Get rid of the foreign bastard, and we’ll show you what real men can do.”
The words were addressed to Tessa, but she could tell they were really meant for Ravis. This wasn’t about her now.
Blood rushed through Tessa’s ears. This place wasn’t safe. Two days. Two attacks. She wanted to go home. Without thinking, she brought her hand up to finger the ring. Even through the rough fabric of her dress, the barbs bit into her finger. Strangely, the pain helped he
r relax. Without realizing it, she had been holding her breath: waiting for the tinnitus to start. The sun appeared from behind the clouds, shining directly on her face.
In a movement so swift, Tessa’s sun-dazzled eyes couldn’t follow it, Ravis drew his knife. With one mighty thrust he pushed her away.
“Run!”
Tessa felt herself falling back. As she struggled to keep her footing, three of the men rushed toward Ravis. The man with the club raised his weapon above his head. Tessa flung out her right arm to steady herself. As she brought up her left arm to shield her face, she felt something wet on her lips. Just as she realized it was blood drawn by the ring, a voice rang out in the street.
“Everyone stay where you are.” A cold voice. A deadly voice.
Automatically Tessa found herself responding to it. Her footing regained, she looked up in time to see the man with the club slowly fall forward onto his face. There was something comical about the sight of him keeling over, and Tessa was struck with a mad desire to laugh. Something that might have been his nose or jaw cracked as he hit the ground. Then she saw the arrow shaft quivering in his back. He had been shot.
Suddenly Tessa didn’t feel like laughing anymore.
Everyone, including Ravis, stood still.
Tessa’s gaze followed the line of the arrow back in the direction it had come from. A man stepped out from the splinter of shade remaining on the west side of the street. He was hooded, the fabric forming a dark eyelet around an even darker face. His left arm was extended, the bar of a crossbow resting on the crook. His free hand was on the trigger.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tessa saw more men step forward into the street. She counted three. There might have been others. All had crossbows.
Ravis’ knuckles formed a bracelet of bone around the hilt of his blade. The only thing that moved were his eyelids. They dropped slowly, reducing his eyes to black-and-white strips.
The hooded man made a minute gesture with the crossbow. His head turned toward Ravis. “Walk on, sir,” he said, his voice softer but infinitely more compelling than before. “Go about your business with your lady. I will see these men bother you no more.”
