To say that the populace had gone insane at the news was an understatement. The commoners rejoiced in the streets, while the nobles quailed in their guarded estates. The Imperial Plaza still burned, and other fires bloomed like a field of poppies. Mya wondered if everything north of the river would burn.
South of the river, the mood was more celebratory than vindictive. There were no nobles to rebel against, and no gallows or stocks to burn. In fact, she wasn’t the only one who had crossed the river seeking shelter from the storm. Many had fled the turmoil consuming the Heights District and Midtown. They couldn’t flee the city entirely. Cordons of constables and soldiers barred every exit, searching for the emperor’s assassin.
“At least Lad got out.”
Mya looked at the ring on her finger and sighed. She tried to be angry with him for saddling her with this responsibility, but for the life of her, she couldn’t hold that grudge. It pleased her to think that he had escaped this life. If anyone deserved happiness, Lad did.
The flames across the river blurred, and Mya wiped her eyes. This was no time to bemoan her lot in life. She had a guild to run, and no idea how to do it. Who could she count on? The Twailin guild was her only surety. Sereth was loyal to Lad, and Mya hoped that he would transfer that allegiance to her.
Lady T? Mya wondered if the woman would survive the wrath of the commoners. If any noble survived, it would be the guildmaster of the Tsing Assassins Guild. But would she see Mya as a liberator or usurper?
Hoseph… The priest was Mya’s greatest worry. She had slept last night with her back in a corner and daggers in her hands. He was the only one who knew the truth about what happened last night.
The right had of death. She only had two options: recruit him or kill him. The choice would be his, more than hers. Burn that bridge later if you must, she thought, watching the flames with a lightening heart. First things first…
Raised voices from the inn’s common room below floated up to Mya, laughter and singing. Breathing in the fetid night air, she thought of Lad’s words. Did she really have a good heart? Only time would tell. Right now, she had work to do.
It was time to think like an assassin.
Epilogue
“Loren!” Tika burst into the kitchen of Tap and Kettle, his brow furrowed with worry. He lowered his voice to a whisper, and switched from Lad’s pseudonym. “Lad, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Who?” Lad hitched Lissa up on his hip and continued stirring the huge kettle of soup. Though there were a few things he could no longer do around the inn due to his maimed hand, he could still hold his daughter and stir soup, and that was more than enough for him.
Tika glanced back over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Norwood, the Royal Guard captain!”
Lad stopped stirring, every muscle in his body suddenly tense. He’d arrived back in Twailin barely a month ago. Sereth had informed him when Norwood returned a week later. Though Lad was pleased that the captain survived, he considered that chapter of his life over. Now it looked as if he had been wrong.
“He asked for me specifically?”
“He asked to see Wiggen’s husband.”
The pang in Lad’s heart still ached, but he had finally come to accept Wiggen’s death. She might not be here in the flesh, but her memory was always with him.
And Lissa… Lad laid his cheek against his daughter’s head, inhaled the heady fragrance of her hair, the warm milky scent of her breath. He had vowed never to leave her again…and never to kill. But if Norwood was here to arrest him…
“Here, Tika.” Lad handed his fussy daughter over to her uncle and fumbled with the apron strings. Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax.
“Da!” Lissa reached out her pudgy little arms. She had clung to Lad since his return, reluctant to be parted from her father. At least she had stopped crying for her mother endlessly every night. She was finally healing. They all were healing.
“You think talking to him is wise?” Forbish paused over the vegetables he had been chopping.
Lad shrugged. “I think it would be unwise to refuse to talk to him.”
Forbish frowned. “And if he wants to arrest you?”
Lad draped his apron over a stool and tried to keep his voice light. “I don’t think he will. We’ll see.”
The common room wasn’t as busy as they would have liked. With rumors of rebellion and even possible civil war, merchants weren’t traveling as much as usual, holding their goods close to home until things settled down. It would either sort itself out or not, and Lad had resolved to have nothing to do with it.
Norwood sat by the cold hearth, a tankard of ale in his hand and a plate of cookies beside his chair. He was feeding one to the huge mastiff that sat beside him, its massive head on his knee. The dog turned and looked at Lad, and its ears pricked up. Norwood followed the dog’s gaze and stood with some difficulty as Lad approached.
Lad stopped two steps away, wary of the dog’s scrutiny. “May I help you, Captain?”
“Don’t worry about Brutus; he’s well trained,” Norwood said as he patted the mastiff’s head. His eyes flicked over Lad, lingering on his maimed hand, then fixing upon his face. “You’re Loren? Wiggen’s husband?”
“Her…widower, yes. Would you like to speak in private? We have a back room.” He waved toward the door that led into the small back chamber.
Norwood smiled and sat back down. “No, thank you. Here is fine.”
Wary, Lad pulled up another chair. “Well, then, is there a problem?”
“No. No problem.” Norwood absently scratched the dog’s head, his eyes on Lad. “I just learned of your wife’s death. You have my condolences.”
“Thank you. It’s been several weeks…” Lad endured his scrutiny for a moment. Norwood seemed to be mesmerized by him, staring into his eyes. “Can I ask the reason for your visit?”
“I wanted to meet you.” Norwood sighed and rubbed a spot on his leg near the knee. Lad remembered a wound there from one of the iron maiden’s screws, and wondered if it pained him. “You remind me of a fellow I met not long ago.”
“Really?” Lad tensed. Did Norwood recognize him from his late-night visits, or had he somehow glimpsed Lad’s face in Tsing?
Norwood finally tore his gaze away and picked up his tankard, sipping the ale as he stared into the cold hearth. “He saved my life once.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. In fact, I think he may have saved my life twice, though I can’t be sure about the second time.”
“I see.” Lad struggled to remain calm. The captain had somehow put the pieces together. But then, Lad knew the man was good at his job.
Norwood’s eyes flicked up to his. “Yes. Yes, I think you just might. Too bad I don’t know who this fellow is, because I’d like to thank him. I owe him quite a lot.” The captain’s wide jaw trembled as he spoke. Like Lad, the man’s outward calm seemed threatened by some inner storm. “I think the whole Empire of Tsing owes him.”
Lad stared. “Why is that, Captain?”
“Because there are things in this world that need killing, and sometimes you have to look through the bad to see the good.” Norwood stood and extended his big warrior’s hand. “I’m pleased to finally meet you, Loren.”
“And I’m pleased to meet you, Captain.” Lad took Norwood’s hand in his and easily matched the hard grip with his own. “I’m glad you came by.”
“Yes, so am I.” He released Lad’s hand and looked around the common room with a broad smile. “I like the Tap and Kettle. I may visit again, just for a pint and a nibble.” He snatched up a couple more cookies, fed one to Brutus and ate the other himself.
“You’ll always be welcome.” Lad was surprised to realize that he meant it. Despite their differences, he liked Norwood very much.
“Thank you.” The captain patted his leg, and the big mastiff lurched to its feet, following its master as he headed for the door. After only a couple of steps, however, Norwood stopped and turn
ed back. “Loren, if you’d ever like to visit, late at night, just to talk, you’d be welcome in my home. I think you might know where I live.”
“I think I might.”
The Captain of the Royal Guard nodded, smiled, and limped out of the Tap and Kettle, his huge dog padding along at his heels.
A high-pitched squeal from the kitchen brought a smile to Lad’s lips. Lissa was being fussy again. A father’s work, it seemed, was never done.
Thanks for reading!
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Continue the Adventure
With the Assassins Guild in disarray, who will have the strength and the smarts to pull it back together?
Look for Weapon of Fear, due out Summer 2015.
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About the Author
From the sea to the stars, Chris A. Jackson’s stories take you to the far reaches of the imagination. Raised on the back deck of a fishing boat and trained as a marine biologist, he became sidetracked by a career in biomedical research, but regained his heart and soul in 2009 when he and his wife Anne left the dock aboard the 45-foot sailboat Mr Mac to cruise the Caribbean and write fulltime.
With his nautical background, writing sea stories seemed inevitable for Chris. His acclaimed Scimitar Seas nautical fantasies won three consecutive Gold Medals in the ForeWord Reviews Book of the Year Awards. Pirate’s Honor, a Pathfinders Tale from Paizo Publishing, combines high-seas combat and romance set in the award-winning world of the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game. Not to be outdone, Privateer Press released Blood & Iron, a swashbuckling novella set in the Iron Kingdoms.
Chris’ repertoire also includes the award-winning and Kindle best-selling Weapon of Flesh Trilogy (Weapon of Flesh, Weapon of Blood, Weapon of Vengeance), as well as five additional fantasy novels, the humorous sci fi Cheese Runners trilogy of novellas, and short stories.
Preview Chris’ novels, download audiobooks, and read his writing blog at jaxbooks.com. Follow Chris' cruising adventures at www.sailmrmac.blogspot.com.
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Novels by Chris A. Jackson
From Jaxbooks
A Soul for Tsing
Deathmask
The Weapon of Flesh Trilogy
Weapon of Flesh
Weapon of Blood
Weapon of Vengeance
The Cornerstones Trilogy (with Anne L. McMillen-Jackson)
Zellohar
Nekdukarr
Jundag
The Cheese Runners Trilogy (novellas)
Cheese Runners
Cheese Rustlers
Cheese Lords
From Dragon Moon Press
Scimitar Moon
Scimitar Sun
Scimitar’s Heir
Scimitar War
From Paizo Publishing
Pirate’s Honor
Pirate’s Promise (December 2014)
From Privateer Press
Blood & Iron (ebook novella)
Check them all out at
jaxbooks.com
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Weapon of Vengeance (Weapon of Flesh Trilogy) Page 36