“They’ll show,” said Aurie, taking hold of Vinny’s hand.
“I still can’t believe you all came back for me.”
"I could never have left you to those Scarvini thugs," said Vinny. "And I'd expect the same on your part."
“It was Valla that came up with the plan,” Aurie put in. “She insisted we had to go after your fool hide.”
“Those do sound like her words,” said Sal smirking. “How did you all sneak in anyhow?”
“Went in after Odie," Vinny said. "They only posted two guards, and they were easy enough to take out between the three of us."
“Valla took them both,” chirped Aurie.
“Sure, well, it’s not like we didn’t help. Still, we went right through the front door and waited in the balcony high rise until Odie gave the signal.”
“The hammer?” Sal asked.
Vinny nodded proudly, but Aurie looked away as though ashamed of something.
"Soon as he pulled the hammer, we were on them," Vinny said. "Not a one of them had been ready for it. Seems they were all too busy waiting for your little pit fight with that monster of a hound.”
Sal smirked. “The hound didn’t stand a chance. I mean, Lord Hugo was going to be tossed in with me, after all.”
Vinny laughed. “Sure, but I think little Lord Cheese might have served better as bait than a fighting companion.”
“Ah, but what a fighting spirit he has,” Sal said, the skeev flowing through him. “A laudable man, his lordship.”
“Laudable he may be,” said Vinny. “But I fear a fighting spirit will only serve a man so far in a real fight.”
The singer seemed to have finished with his break, and he began to call out for song requests.
Just as the shouts of songs began, the inn door opened. Valla sauntered in, followed by the big man, whose lumbering walk seemed more limp than usual.
A curtain of tension fell as the big man met Sal’s look. He stopped and stood stock-still, and for a moment, they stared at one another. Then Sal nodded, and Odie cracked a smile. An instant later, Valla and the big man joined them at the table.
“A diddler will diddle, that’s what diddlers do,
that doesn’t mean it should happen to you.
Piddle on the diddler, tell the vagrant ‘shoo!’ ”
"Oh, that fucking song!" Valla cursed. "Every bloody time I tell you, every bloody time!"
Everyone else at the table laughed.
“No, say I, and no, say you.
Piddle on the diddler, for that’s what we do.”
“Bloody hell, I’m going up there, I can’t take it,” Valla said.
The big man put a hand on her shoulder. “Think you ought to tell them first, lass.”
Sal didn’t like the sound of that.
“Tell us what?” Vinny asked.
“And if a diddler diddles your mum,
you’ve a right to feel it’s wrong.
Piddle on the diddler, it’s what he deserves.
Piddle on the diddler, we’ll all take turns.”
“War,” said Valla.
Sal looked to the big man, to Vinny, to Aurie, and back to Valla.
“A diddler diddles on and on,
he’ll diddle till the piddling's all but done.
Piddle on the diddler, do what’s right,
the diddler won’t put up a fight.”
“What do you mean, war?” Vinny asked.
“Just a rumor,” said the big man. “But that’s the smell of it.”
“A diddler often diddles his own,
it chafes the gods deep to the bone.
Piddle on the diddler, the man is sick.
Piddle on the diddler, it is no trick.”
“Don Scarvini’s kid Giovani?” Sal asked.
Valla nodded. “Seems he’s more of a problem than we first gave him credit. Somehow he’s already managed to take over the Scarvini Family. You’d have thought with the old don dead, and his only son practically a kid—well anyway, he’s become a problem.”
“A diddler’s riddle is oft done alone,
he’ll touch himself ‘till he’s full grown.
Piddle on the diddler in the name of the gods,
he’ll diddle himself by all the odds.”
“And why is he our problem?” Aurie asked. “I know a Commission war is probably a bad thing, but why shouldn’t we just walk away? Why get involved?”
The big man let out a booming laugh. “Lass, if you didn’t want to be involved, now ain’t the time to decide it. Whether you like it or not, we killed the little fish’s family. We’re the ones he’s going to be coming after.”
“For when a diddler diddles a dame,
to his house there falls great shame.
Piddle on the diddler if you know what’s good.
Piddle on the diddler as right you should.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to take care of him then,” said Vinny.
“Aye,” agreed Odie. “Suppose we will.”
“And so we’re right back where we started?” Aurie asked.
“Right back where we started,” Sal said. “Only now, with more blood on our hands.”
"Best get used to the blood," said Valla. "Before this thing is over, the streets of Dijvois are going to be running with it."
Sal sighed and leaned his elbows on the table, head lowered, listening to the rest of the song. The serving wench came past, but Sal could hardly recall speaking to her, lost in his thoughts as he was over what was to come.
Cloak and dagger work—it seemed to be all he was destined for. Ever since stealing the locket, he'd had nothing less. He could still recall a time when he'd sworn to himself he would never go down that route, and yet here he was, about to find himself in a gang war.
Soon he would be returning to the shadows, whether he willed it or not.
He sipped at his ale, and sat back, resigned to the truth—that in the end, he had no choice—in the end, fate would have its way.
Thus ends
The Man in Shadow
Fall of the Coward, Book Three
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About the Author
Taylor O’Connell is the author of The Hand that Takes, A Fool of Sorts, and The Man in Shadow. And very much looks forward to presenting the final pieces to the series: Fall of the Coward; A Throne for Thieves, and For All that Ascends.
Taylor primarily writes fantasy, but loves books of all genres. When not lost within the city of Dijvois, he spends most of his time with his beautiful wife and children.
For more information or more novels by Taylor O’Connell, visit Tayloroconnellbooks.com
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