"But he's learning. His life has been so hard. I know it has. Abandoned and betrayed by those who should have loved him. He doesn't talk about it, at least not to me. But I know."
Hadrian shook his head. "Me either. Occasionally something might come up, but he usually avoids mentioning anything about his past. I think he's trying to forget."
"He's built so many defenses, but every year it's as if another wall has fallen. He even summoned the courage to tell me he's part elven. His fortress is dissolving, and I can see him peering out of it at me. He wants to be free. This is the next step-and I am so proud of him."
"When will the wedding be?"
"We were thinking in a couple of weeks at the monastery, so Myron can preside. But we'll have to postpone, won't we?"
"Why do you say that? Alric just wants to see us, it doesn't mean-"
"He needs the two of you for a job," Gwen interrupted.
"No. He might want us, but we're retired. I have other things to do and Royce…well, Royce needs to start a new life-with you."
"You'll take it, and you must take Royce with you," her voice was filled with sadness and a sense of regret, emotions so unlike her.
Hadrian smiled. "Listen, I can't think of anything Alric could say that would get me to go, but if he does, I'll do the job on my own-as a wedding present. We don't even have to tell Royce the courier was here."
"No!" she burst out. "He has to go. If he doesn't, you'll die."
Hadrian's first impulse was to laugh, but that thought evaporated when he saw her face. Nevertheless, he tried to lighten the strain he found there. "I'm not as easy to kill as all that, you know?" He winked at her.
"I'm from Calis, Hadrian, and I know what I'm talking about." Her gaze drifted off toward the windows, but her eyes were unfocused, as if seeing another place. "I can't be the one responsible for your death. The life we would have after…" She shook her head. "No, he must go with you," she repeated firmly.
Hadrian was not convinced but knew there was no reason to argue further. Gwen was not the type for debate. Most women he knew invited discussion and even enjoyed arguments, but not Gwen. There was clarity to her thinking that let you know she had already made her own journey to the inevitable conclusion and was just politely waiting there for you to join her. In her own way, she was much like Royce-except for the polite waiting.
"With you two gone, I'll have time to organize a first-rate wedding," she said, her voice strained and she blinked frequently. "It will take that long just to decide what color dress a former prostitute should wear."
"You know something, Gwen," Hadrian began, as he reached out and took her hand. "I've known a lot of women, but I've met only two I admire. Royce is a very lucky man."
"Royce is a man on the edge," she replied thoughtfully. "He's seen too much cruelty and betrayal. He's never known mercy." She gave his hand a squeeze. "You have to do this, Hadrian. You have to be the one to show him mercy. If you can do that, I know it will save him."
***
Royce and Hadrian entered Essendon Castle's courtyard, once the site of Princess Arista's witch trial. Nothing remained of that unfortunate day except a slightly raised patch of ground where the stake and woodpile had stood. It had been just three years ago, and the weather had been turning cold then too. It was a different time. Amrath Essendon was king, and the New Empire was little more than a dream of the Imperialists.
The guards at the gate nodded and smiled at them.
"I hate that," Royce muttered as they passed.
"What?"
"They didn't even think to stop us, and they actually smiled. They know us by sight now-by sight. Alric used to have the decency to send word discreetly and receive us unannounced. Now, uniformed soldiers knock on the door in daylight waving and saying, 'Hello, we have a job for you.'"
"He didn't wave."
"Give it time, he will be-waving and grinning. One day Jeremy will be buying drinks for his soldier buddies at The Rose and Thorn. They'll all be there, the entire sentry squad, laughing, smiling, throwing their arms over our shoulders and asking us to sing Calide Portmore with them-'once more with gusto!' And at some point one particularly sweaty ox will give me a hug and say how honored he is to be in our company."
"Jeremy?"
"What? That's his name."
"You know the name of the soldier at the gate?"
Royce scowled. "You see my point? Yes, I know his name and they know ours. We might as well wear uniforms and move into Arista's old room."
They climbed the stone steps to the main entrance, where a soldier quickly opened a door for them and gave a slight bow. "Master Melborn, Master Blackwater."
"Hey, Digby." Hadrian waved as he passed and caught Royce scowling. "Sorry."
"It's a good thing we're both retired. You know, there's a reason there are no famous living thieves."
Hadrian's heels echoed on the polished floor of the corridor as they walked. Royce's footsteps made no sound at all. They crossed the west gallery past the suits of armor and the ballroom. The castle appeared as empty as the rest of the city. As they approached the reception hall, Hadrian spotted Mauvin Pickering heading their way. The young noble looked thinner than Hadrian remembered. There was a hollow cast to his cheeks, a shadow beneath his eyes, but his hair was the same wild mess.
"About time," Mauvin greeted them. "Alric just sent me to look for you."
Two years had passed since his brother Fanen's death, and Mauvin still wore black. The haunted look in his eyes would be unnoticeable to most. Only those who had known him before the contest in Dahlgren would see the difference. That was where Sentinel Luis Guy had attacked Hadrian with a force of Seret Knights, and Mauvin and Fanen took up arms with him. The brothers had fought masterfully, as was the nature of Pickerings. Yet Mauvin had been unable to save his brother from the killing stroke. Before that day, Mauvin Pickering had been bright, loud, and joyful with a permanent smile and a wink that challenged the world. Now, he stood with his shoulders slumped and his chin dipped.
"You're wearing it again?" Hadrian gestured toward Mauvin's sword.
"They insisted."
"Have you drawn it?"
Mauvin looked at his feet. "Dad says it doesn't matter. If the need arises, he's certain I won't hesitate."
"And what do you think?"
"Mostly I try not to." Mauvin opened the doors to the hall and let them swing wide. He led them past the clerk and the door guards into the reception hall. Tall windows let in the late morning light, casting bright spears on the parquet floor. The great tapestries still laid rolled in bundles against the wall, stacked in hope of a better day. In their places, maps with red lines covered by blue arrows pointing south, plastered the walls.
Alone, Alric paced near the windows, his crowned head bowed and his mantle trailing behind him like-like a king, Hadrian thought. Alric looked up as they entered and pushed the rim of the royal diadem back with his thumb.
"What took you so long?"
"We ate breakfast, Your Majesty," Royce replied.
"You ate break-never mind." The king held out a rolled parchment. "I'm told you delivered this dispatch to the castle this morning?"
"Not me," Royce said. Unrolling it, he found two parchments and began reading.
"I did," Hadrian admitted. "I just arrived from Ratibor. Your sister has matters well in hand, Your Majesty."
Alric scowled. "Who sent this?"
"I'm not sure," Hadrian replied. "I got it from a man named Price in Colnora."
Royce finished reading and looked up. "I think you're about to lose this war," he said, without bothering to add the expected Your Majesty.
"Don't be absurd. This is likely a hoax. Ecton is probably behind it. He enjoys seeing me make a fool of myself. Even if it is authentic, it's simply someone making wild claims to extort a bit of gold from the New Empire."
"I don't think so." Royce handed the letter to Hadrian.
King Alric,
Found this
on a courier traveling from Calis to Aquesta. Sweepers bumped him in Alburn but he was more than he seemed. Three Diamonds dead. Bucketmen caught him and found this letter addressed to the Regents. The Jewel thought you'd like to know.
Esteemed Regents,
The fall of Ratibor was unexpected and unfortunate, but as you know, not fatal. Thus far, I have delivered Degan Gaunt and eliminated the wizard Esrahaddon. This completes two-thirds of our contract, but the best is yet to come.
The Emerald Storm rests anchored in Aquesta Harbor, ready to sail. When you receive this message, place the payment on board along with the sealed orders I left. Once loaded, the ship will depart, the fortunes of war will shift, and your victory will be assured. With the Nationalists eliminated, Melengar is yours for the taking.
While I have all the time in the world, you, on the other hand, might wish to make haste, lest the flame you call the New Empire be snuffed out.
Merrick Marius "Merrick?" Hadrian muttered and looked at Royce. "Is this…?"
Royce nodded.
"You know this Marius?" Alric asked.
Again, Royce nodded. "Which is why I know you're in trouble."
"And do you know who sent this?"
"Cosmos DeLur."
"Isn't Cosmos a wealthy merchant in Colnora?"
"He's also the leader of the thieves' guild known as the Black Diamond."
Alric paused to consider this, taking the opportunity to pace once more. "Why would he send this to me?"
"The Diamond wants the Imps out of Colnora. I guess with Gaunt gone, Cosmos thought you could make the best use of this information."
Alric stroked his beard thoughtfully. "So, who is this Merrick fellow? How do you know him?"
"We were friends when I was a member of the Diamond."
"Excellent. Find him and ask what this is all about."
Royce shook his head. "I have no idea where Merrick is, and we're not on good terms anymore. He won't tell me anything."
Alric sighed. "I don't care what kind of terms you're on. Find him, resolve your differences, and get me the information I need."
"I killed the woman he loved, and he arranged for me to be sent to Manzant. So I don't think that will happen."
Alric stopped pacing and stared. "Manzant Prison? But no one ever leaves Manzant."
"That was the plan. I was happy to disappoint him. Nowadays, we have an unspoken agreement to stay out of each other's way."
"I don't like this 'Melengar is yours for the taking' business. I'm sure it's just a boast, but what do you think he means by that?"
"Merrick does not boast. If he says he can turn the war in the empire's favor, he can. I suggest you take this seriously." Royce thought a moment. "If I were you, I'd send someone to deliver this message and then stow away on this ship and see where it leads."
"Fine. Do that, and let me know what you find out."
"Your Majesty, we're retired. Only a week ago I came here and explained how-"
"Don't be ridiculous! You said to take his threat seriously, which is why I need my best-and that means you."
"Pick someone else," Royce said firmly.
"All right, how much do you want? It's land this time, right? Fine. As it happens, the Baron Milborough of Three Fords was killed in battle a few weeks ago. He doesn't have any sons, so I'll grant you his estate if you succeed. Land, title-all of it."
"I don't want land. I don't want anything. I'm retired. "
"By Mar, man!" Alric exclaimed. "The future of the kingdom may depend on this! I'm the king and-"
Hadrian interrupted. "I'll do it."
"What?" Alric and Royce asked together.
"I said, I'll go."
***
him. No "You can't take this job," Royce told him, as they walked back to The Rose and Thorn.
"I have to. If Esrahaddon is dead, Merrick is my only chance to find Gaunt. Do you think he really could have done it?"
"Merrick wouldn't lie to a client about a job."
"But Esrahaddon was a wizard. He's survived a thousand years-I can't imagine he could be murdered by a common killer."
"I just said it was Merrick. He's not common."
As the two walked through an empty Gentry Square, even the bells of Mares Cathedral were silent. Hadrian sighed. "Then I'm on my own in finding the heir now. If I follow the payment to Merrick, I'll be halfway to finding Gaunt."
"Hadrian." Royce placed a hand on his friend's arm, stopping them mid-step. "You're not up to this. You don't know Merrick. Think a minute. If he can kill a wizard, one who could create pillars of fire even without hands, what do you think your chances are? You're a good-no, you're a great fighter-the best I've ever seen, but Merrick is a genius and he's ruthless. You go after him, he'll know, and he'll kill you."
They were across from Lester Furl's old haberdashery in Artisan's Row, the shop that the monk Myron once worked in. The sign of the cavalier hat still hung out front, but the place was empty.
"Listen, I'm not asking you to come. I know you're marrying Gwen. Congratulations on that, by the way. And it's about time, I might add. This isn't your problem. It's mine. It's what I was born to do. What my father trained me for. Finding Gaunt and protecting him-finding a way to put him back on the imperial throne-that's my destiny."
Royce rolled his eyes.
"I know you don't believe that, but I do."
"Gaunt could be dead already, you know? If Merrick killed Esrahaddon, he might have slit Gaunt's throat, too."
"I still have to go. By now, even you must see that."
***
When they reached The Rose and Thorn, Gwen was waiting with anxious eyes. She stood in the threshold, her arms crossed, clutching her shawl. The autumn wind brushed her skirt and hair. Within the darkened interior behind her, patrons talked loudly around the bar.
"It's okay," Hadrian reassured her as they approached. "I'm taking the job, but Royce is staying. With luck I'll be back for-"
"Go with him," Gwen told Royce firmly.
"No-really, Gwen," Hadrian said, "it's nothing-"
"You have to go with him."
"What's wrong?" Royce asked. "I thought we were getting married. Don't you want to?"
Gwen closed her eyes, shaken. Then her hands clenched into fists and she straightened. "You must go. Hadrian will be killed if you don't-and then you…you…"
Royce took her in his arms on the steps of the tavern and held her as she began to cry.
"You have to go," Gwen's voice muffled by Royce's shoulder. "Nothing will be right if you don't. I can't marry you-I won't marry you if you don't. Tell me you'll go, please, Royce, please…"
Royce gave Hadrian a puzzled glance and whispered, "Okay."
***
"Here, I made this for you," Gwen said to Royce, holding out a folded bit of knitted cloth. They were in Gwen's room at the top of the stairs of Medford House, and he had just finished packing.
He held it up. "A scarf?"
Gwen smiled. "Since I'm going to be married, I thought I should take up knitting. I hear that's what proper wives do for their husbands."
Royce started to laugh but stopped when he saw her expression. "This is important to you, isn't it? You realize you've always been better than all those ladies in the Merchant Quarter. Having a husband doesn't make them special."
"It's not that. It's just…I know you had a less-than-perfect childhood, and so did I. I want something better for our children. I want their lives-our home-to be perfect, or at least as much as possible for a pair such as us."
"I don't know, I've met dozens of aristocrats who had ideal childhoods and they turned out to be horrors. You, on the other hand, are the best person I've ever met."
She smiled at him. "That's nice, but I highly doubt you would approve of our daughter working here. And would you really want our son living the way you did as a boy? We can raise them right. Just because they grow up in a proper home doesn't mean they will turn out to be horrors. You'll be firm, an
d I'll be loving. You'll spank little Elias when he acts disrespectfully, and I'll kiss his tears and give him cookies."
"Elias? You've named our son already?"
"Would you prefer Sterling? I can't decide between the two. But the girl's name is not negotiable-it's Mercedes. I've always loved that name.
"I'll sell this house and my other holdings. Combined with the money I banked for you, we'll never want for anything. We can live peaceful, happy, simple lives-I mean, if you want to live like that, do you?"
He looked into her eyes. "Gwen, if it means being with you, I don't care where we are or what I do."
"Then it's settled." Gwen grinned and her eyes brightened. "It's what I've always dreamed of…the two of us in a small cottage somewhere safe and warm raising a family."
"You make us sound like squirrels."
"Yes, exactly! A family of squirrels tucked in our cozy nest in some tree trunk while the troubles of the world pass us by." Her lower lip quivered.
Royce pulled her close and held her tight as she buried her face in his shoulder. He stroked her head feeling her hair linger on his fingertips. For all Gwen's strength and courage, he was forever amazed at how fragile she could be. He had never known anyone like her, and he considered telling Hadrian he had changed his mind.
"Don't even think it," she told him. "We can't build a new life until you're done with the old one. Hadrian needs you, and I won't be blamed for his death."
"I could never blame you."
"I couldn't bear it if I felt you hated me, Royce. I'd rather be dead than let that happen. Promise me you'll go. Promise me you'll take care of Hadrian. Promise me you won't despair, and that you'll set things right."
Royce let his head lower until it rested on hers. He stood there, smelling the familiar scent of her hair as his own breathing tightened. "All right, but you have to agree to go to the abbey if things get bad like they did before."
"I will," she said. Her arms tightened around him. "I'm so scared," she whispered.
Surprised, Royce said, "You've always told me you were never frightened when I left on missions."
The emerald storm trr-4 Page 4
