by Katie Roman
Grace moved to help Kay, but as she did a body tumbled down the stairs. Marcus rolled over onto his back, rubbing his head. Grace went to move to his side when she felt something strike the back of her thigh. The fool with the club bore down on her as she went down to one knee, but she quickly rolled out of his way, narrowly missing a death blow to the head. She saw a figure run down the stairs at Marcus, but she couldn’t react to that because the club-man was already coming in for another assault.
Grace’s thigh felt both numb and on fire at the same time. She struggled to her feet and ambled to the side as the club-man swung again. From her periphery vision she saw Marcus kick his assailant in the shins right as the woman reached the bottom stairs, making her fall backwards. Grace turned quickly to avoid being brained.
On the other side of the inn she saw Kay making a full circle around the common room with her man striking relentlessly. Again the club-man came at Grace. Marcus and Kay need me, she thought angrily. She kicked out as the club-man came within range and her boot connected with the soft spot between his legs. He dropped to the ground, vomiting.
She swung around to see Marcus blocking the queen’s blows and Grace’s heart skipped a beat when she finally saw her face. Even in the bad light of the common room, she recognized Katherine’s appointed maid, Kara. She wanted to scream something nasty at the woman, but she didn’t want to distract Marcus. Instead she circled around behind Kara, ready to catch her when Marcus drove her back.
The moment never came. As Grace moved to join Marcus, Kara caught Marcus’s blade with her own, holding close to him. Then, lightning fast, she produced a small knife and drove it into his throat before there was time to react. Grace’s world spun around her as blood poured from Marcus and he gurgled and clutched at his throat, falling to the ground.
“Marcus!” Kay screamed behind her.
Grace stood dumbly in the center of the room watching Marcus convulse, blood pouring from his wound. Kay pushed past Grace, throwing herself at Kara, but Kara moved quickly, easily catching Kay’s blade.
She’ll kill Kay, too! Grace’s mind screamed, but her body remained immovable. Don’t let her kill Kay!
Kara knocked Kay’s blade aside. It seemed the pirate captain barely moved out of the way fast enough. Kara’s blade caught her upper arm and blood blossomed under her shirt, trickling down her arm.
The smell of the blood from Marcus and the sight of Kay bleeding and scrambling away from Kara pushed Grace back into action. She ripped off her mask and screamed at the top of her lungs. She screamed until she thought her lungs would explode and her throat became raw. She felt her face getting hot and her head pounded relentlessly, but still she screamed.
“He was my friend!” She suddenly jumped into action, driving Kara back and away from Kay.
“You?” Kara dodged one of Grace’s wild swings. “I thought you were dead on Nareroc! Ha! I get the pleasure of killing you myself, then!”
Grace only saw Kara. Her vision went black around the edges as she drove Kara across the room. She was vaguely aware of Kay yelling something at her.
“He was my friend! Drake is my friend! This. Is. My. CITY!” Grace’s whole body felt hot as her temper took complete control. “And I will not let you kill anymore!”
“Are you going to be the one to stop me, you simpering little wench?” Kara laughed, blocking Grace’s blows.
Kara kicked the front of Grace’s thigh, knocking her off balance. Grace barely kept her footing and was just in time to stop Kara’s next blow. She used her free hand and grabbed Kara’s wrist, twisting it hard and fast. As the other woman’s sword clattered to the floor, Grace hit her in the temple with her hilt.
Kara stumbled back, dazed and confused. Grace hit her again, harder this time. She felt the bones give way and warm liquid splashed against her sword hand. She was a violent storm; raging, catching Kara up in the whirling tempest. As she slammed her hilt into Kara’s head again and again, she felt all her anger over the injustices happening in Glenbard come spilling out. In that moment Kara was at the heart, the embodiment of corruption, everything Grace fought against. She was deaf and blind to all else but her own burning desire to punish Kara.
She hit Kara one last time and the former Queen of Thieves fell to the floor in a bloody heap. Grace’s whole body shook and her eyes couldn’t focus. She nearly fell to the ground herself, but Kay caught her and eased her onto the floor. Her rage was spent and her hand was coated in Kara’s sticky blood, still warm. She looked at Kara’s lifeless form and shook against the horror of Kara’s beaten and bloodied face. Her anger was replaced with ice cold fear. What had she done?
“She killed her!” one of the men tied up near the stairs cried. “The Death Dealer…no, little Grace Hilren killed the Queen of Thieves.”
Kay left Grace’s side. “I’ll untie you if you go home like good little boys and take your wounded friends.”
The swordsman who attacked Kay was dead, but the club and ax-men lived. The stair guards helped them up and out and they fled into the night. All the while, Grace sat shaking on the floor. Kay returned to her side.
“I guess now we know what happens when Grace Hilren is pushed too far,” Kay said. Her eyes never left Kara’s body. Her tone was cold and distant.
Grace didn’t look up at Kay. She couldn’t peel her eyes away from Kara. Grace felt like the woman’s blood coated her completely, like she would never be clean of it. Her hands felt foreign to her body. Hands that had so ruthless murdered Kara; hands that didn’t seem to be her own. Nothing seemed right. Kara’s blood pooled on the floor, spreading out like a big red halo around her head.
“What have I done?” Grace looked over the body of Kara. The side of her head was caved in and covered in blood, running into her eyes, nose, and mouth. “I didn’t want to do this! I never wanted to kill for Marcus! Not again!” Then her eyes fell on the prone figure that was Marcus and she started to sob quietly.
~*~*~
“She’s the Queen of Thieves now,” Grace heard Jim say from outside her door. Kay had moved her to the room she used to live in above the stables. The pirate stood vigilantly outside her door, refusing entry to any.
“You know the rules, Kay. When the king or queen is killed, their killer takes control of the Guild,” Jim continued.
“She is not yet fit to take the role,” Kay responded, her tone clipped. “We need to find Thom and Ridley before anything else happens.”
“They say Grace is the Death Dealer,” it was Mayhew, the stable master, who spoke now.
“And what if she is?” Kay growled. “We have a man to mourn. Don’t concern yourself with any of that nonsense now.”
“You once put a price on the Dealer’s head,” Mayhew remarked. “Are you keepin’ us out ‘cause you slit her throat? Plannin’ to take over the spot as queen?”
Grace heard a body hit the wall. “Go. Away.” Kay’s instruction was followed by feet hurrying away.
Grace turned over onto her side and closed her eyes, looking only to sleep away this nightmare.
Her dreams were of blood and fire again, like the dreams Diggery sent her when the goddess wanted her to pick a path the previous autumn. Only instead of running in the woods of Arganis, Grace stood alone in the Temple of Diggery. Or what was left of the temple.
She stood alone on the pedestal that once held Diggery’s statue. The wolf was gone, and around her, the walls crumbled and the city of Glenbard burned. Blood splashed against the stone of the pedestal and rained down from the sky, coating Grace. She stood firm, with her sword in hand, yet she did not cry out or succumb to despair. Even if she wanted to yield to pain and grief she couldn’t, not when there was a job to do.
People ran past the pedestal screaming, begging for help. Grace climbed down and walked away from the temple district as people cried and screamed and fell in her path. The blood rain stopped as she moved away from her pedestal. The fire and blood was replaced by rot. Even in her dreams she smelled th
e decay of rotting flesh. The green-black putrefaction seemed to pulse with life, leaving a festering stench in the air and the taste of rubbish in Grace’s mouth.
Grace walked on, toward the castle Duke Robert used. As she moved, the rot became thicker; black and oozing from buildings. When she reached the castle, she saw that this was where it began. She had to cut away the decay to save Glenbard. Grace took a deep breath and closed her eyes, preparing herself for the task ahead.
Awake, the voice of Diggery echoed in her mind. The time for action is now.
Eighteen
Grace woke up to noise on the street outside her little room. A small, weak ray of light came in through her window and she crawled off the hay mattress to peek outside. She saw the setting sun and realized she had slept the whole day. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to block out the sounds of revelry from outside and her own self-loathing about the night before.
Grace slid her feet into her boots and found a pitcher of water set on the floor near the door. She crouched down and splashed the cold water over her face. Before going to sleep Kay had washed her clean of blood, but Grace still felt like she was covered in the sticky, metallic smelling liquid. Grace straightened herself up and looked around the dim room.
The bed was a rumpled mess and her weapons were nowhere to be seen. She had no fresh clothes to change into, and it would be easy for someone to break in. Still, the room felt safe to her. As long as she was within these walls, no one could touch her. Taking in a deep breath, Grace opened the door to head into the stable.
Kay stood in front of the door with her legs spaced shoulder-width apart and her arms crossed over her chest. Both her blades hung at her waist. She stared down to the stables, ready to challenge anyone who came to bother Grace. Her upper arm was bandaged from the cut she received from Kara the night before. Thankfully her cut had not bled through the white linen.
Grace stayed in the doorway, rubbing warmth into her arms. “What is happening outside?”
“Truthfully, I am afraid to find out. They have been out there for a while.” Kay didn’t bother to turn when she spoke. Instead, she headed down into the stable.
While Grace slept, the dairy cow and two horses had been returned to their stalls. The warm, musky scent of the animals surrounded Grace as she followed Kay
“Jim and Jeremiah moved Marcus’s body,” Kay said, answering a question Grace was too afraid to ask. “They had a priest from Ciro’s temple come and read the Rites of the Dead. They are allowing people to come to his old house and pay their respects. We hope this will draw Ridley and Thom out of wherever they are hiding.”
Grace hung her head, feeling tears well up, but she sniffed them back and wiped her nose across her sleeve. She wanted to ask what happened to Kara; to explain herself, to do something about what she’d done.
“Everyone is waiting for you,” Kay continued when Grace said nothing. “They want their Death Dealer Queen to say something. Grace, the Guild is looking to you now.” Kay finally turned around to face her. Her eyes shone brightly in the dim light.
It was the last thing on earth she wanted. To not just be a thief, but to be the leader of the city’s thieves. It was too much. Grace sank to her knees, losing what little strength she had left.
“I do not want this, Kay.”
“You’re not exactly who I wanted to see taking Marcus’s place, but if you decline the position there will be chaos on the Lane while people clamor for it. If no one comes forward, it will be that much harder to unite everyone. You cannot turn it down.”
“And we need everyone united.” Grace nodded her agreement and bent down, grabbing a clump of dirt from the ground and crushing it between her fingers. “I am going to need your help.”
Grace felt Kay’s presence as the other woman knelt down in front of her. She took Grace’s dirty hands and held them firm. When she raised her eyes, she found Kay’s deep brown eyes fixed on her.
“I am only going to coddle you this one time, understand?” Grace nodded. “I will see you through this winter – not just for you, but for Marcus, Ridley, Thom, and Jack too. I put our differences aside when I saw you on Nareroc.” Kay took in a deep breath. “I know you want to mourn Marcus, but when we leave this stable you need to show the people you are strong and immovable. You cannot be seen crying for Marcus or showing any regret for killing that woman. You must show them you are willing to do whatever it takes to save them.” Her fingers tightened around Grace’s. She felt their warmth rush through her and wanted nothing more than to hug Kay and never let go.
“I cannot pretend forever,” Grace replied shakily. “I did not want to kill Kara. I did not want to snuff out her life. I just…she did not deserve…I could not let her get away after she killed my friend.” Grace saw Kara’s bloodied and beaten face swimming before her mind’s eye and felt like she had been hit with a boulder in the chest.
“If you get to feeling like guilt and grief are about to overtake you, we’ll work out a signal or something and I will get you to a private area so you can cry or hit walls all you like. But don’t let those people,” she pointed to the door of the stable, “see it. Now – do you need a few moments before we head out?”
Grace still heard the shouts outside and knew if she didn’t go out now, she would lose her nerve. “No, let’s go.”
Kay rose first and helped Grace to her feet. She led them out of the stable and through the common room of the Angel. Grace halted briefly and looked around. All the chairs had been removed and someone had attempted to clean the blood from the floor. Grace looked over at the discolored spot where Marcus had fallen.
As she stood staring at the spot, Kay approached her with her sword, sword belt, and Death Dealer mask. Without a word she put on the belt, tying the mask to it so all could see it. She gave Marcus’s death spot a wide berth and walked out onto the street.
Grace immediately saw people parading up and down the street leading a beaten down horse. Everyone cheered and chanted. At first their chants sounded like incoherent jabber, but as Grace strained her ears to make it out she heard, “The bitch is dead!” A few people caught sight of Grace and patted her on the back.
The poor horse walked by and now Grace could see why it was being marched around the street: Kara’s body was tied in the saddle. Her broken head hung down, her chin touching her chest. Her face was black and blue and coated in dried blood. People threw stones and other debris at her, chanting gleefully about her death. They had also shaved her head and stripped her of her fine clothes.
Grace cut her eyes to Kay, hoping the pirate would rethink allowing her to take the role of Queen of Thieves, but Kay’s eyes were fixed stonily on the scene. She made a sign on her chest and shook her head.
“It is bad luck to defile a body, especially an enemy’s body,” she said. “The Nareroc Gods do not take kindly to such affronts.” Kay’s voice was level and she sounded disappointed, but not shocked. She looked pointedly at Grace, crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip, waiting for Grace to do something.
Grace stepped out in front of the horse, holding her hands up to stop the morbid parade. All the people who were gathered in the streets cheered for her and Grace felt it rolling over her like a thunderous tide. The men who led the horse stopped a few feet away and she recognized them as men who had served Marcus, but she couldn’t recall their names. They smiled stupidly at her, holding the horse’s reins like the poor beast carried a great prize on its back.
“Quiet, all of you!” Grace yelled over the din, but her voice was drowned out by the cheers. She cried again, roaring over the applause. Slowly the crowd fell silent. “Cut her down!” she yelled. “What savagery is this to parade the dead around in such a manner?” The crowd stayed silent, but no one moved to heed her instruction. “Cut her down. NOW!”
One of the horse handlers, looking confused, rubbed the back of his neck and said, “But she killed Marcus and bullied and threatened us. We went hungry while she feasted
.”
Grace took a step forward. She was small and only came up to the man’s shoulder, so she grabbed his chin and forced him to hold her gaze. “I. Do. Not. Care. Untie her.” She released the man and he hurried to release Kara from her binds.
“Kara has been duly punished for her crimes. There is no need to continue that punishment. She was merely a pawn of King Frederick’s.” Her voice shook with fear and fury as she spoke. Grace turned to address the crowd. People whispered among themselves at Grace’s accusation. “I stopped her from killing Prince Drake. She was a hired assassin who was probably just drawn to the idea of power. She ran unchecked because Robert of Escion does whatever Frederick tells him, and she was probably sent here for some horrible deed. But none of you can tell me you would not have been similarly tempted by gold from the crown treasury.” She stopped, feeling her voice begin to crack.
Grace looked back at the horse. The men who led the horse worked together to pull Kara’s naked body down. “She will be buried in a grave at my expense, and that will be the end of it. Her taint has been removed, but there is a bigger foe we face. It was not Kara who withheld food. It was not she who put this city under martial law.” She spoke stronger now, unafraid. “It was not Kara who is trying to rot this city; to rot this country!” Grace turned and pointed in the direction the duke’s castle lay. “That is where the decay begins! And we must cut the rot out before it festers and infects everything. Do not blame this greedy pawn.” She swung around to see the men wrapping a horse blanket around Kara’s body, and her resolve momentarily wavered as the beaten face was uncovered.
