Authors: Victor Gischler
Brasley chose to understand the question a different way. “There is a recital the day after tomorrow on the palace lawn. Weather permitting. Naturally, I welcome whatever chaperones would satisfy propriety.”
“Of course, of course,” the Count said. “I could tell right away you were a man of good breeding. I’m sure we have an old aunt clanking around the manor somewhere who can accompany you.”
“Then with your permission, I’ll take your leave, sir. The business of Klaar keeps me constantly busy.” This was a lie but a fiction he wanted to establish right away in case he needed to weasel out of dinner invitations or other tedious family gatherings.
“Naturally,” said the Count. “Don’t let me keep you.”
Brasley bowed slightly and turned toward the door.
Not too fast. Give the man a chance
.
“Sir Brasley?”
Brasley paused in the door way, turned back to the count. “Sir?”
“I realize you’re new to the city,” Becham said. “If there is anything I can do to help, I hope you’ll ask.”
“Thank you, sir, but I don’t think …” Brasley cocked his head as if a thought were just now occurring to him. “Actually, there might be something, but I hate to trouble you.”
“Come now. Let’s have it.”
“I’m off to the Royal Bank later to establish Klaar’s line of credit,” Brasley said. “Can you recommend the name of a clerk there who might help speed the process?”
Becham’s belly laugh filled the room. “Rest at ease, Sir Brasley. You might not realize this, but of all the people in Merridan, you’ve come to the one man who has the Royal Bank in his back pocket. Don’t give it a second thought.”
And just like that the final element of Brasley’s scheme clicked into place.
Tosh sat at a corner table in the Bawdy Baron. It was an upscale pub, and Mother had provided him with clothes good enough to pass him off as a reasonably well-to-do merchant. The shoes pinched his feet. Tenni sat next to him looking beautiful in a yellow dress fit for a merchant’s wife. Mother had given her the longest, bulkiest fur cloak she could find to hide Tenni’s sword.
They ate a meal and sipped good wine. Tosh drank the wine too fast. He was nervous. He nodded for one of the barmaids to refill his goblet. Better a little drunk than nervous. Nerves could paralyze a man when he needed to strike.
But too drunk could make him sloppy.
Tosh was there to kill a man, and he wanted it finished.
He pushed the food around in his dish with a spoon. No appetite. He reached for the wine, made himself stop, then reached for it again and drank.
Tenni put her hand on his other arm. “Easy.”
He looked at her, offered a crooked smile that failed miserably to convince her he was just fine. “Why aren’t you as jittery as I am?”
“I’m having a fine meal with my man, and I’m wearing a pretty dress,” Tenni said. “What could be better?”
He brought the goblet to his lips again.
“Slow down,” Tenni said.
Tosh frowned but set the goblet back on the table.
His eyes flicked to the bar where Urma helped her mother pour drinks. He caught her eye, and the girl shook her head. No sign of their prey yet.
“Who has Emmon?” Tosh asked.
“Prinn.”
Tosh nodded. After Tenni, Prinn and Darshia were the best with a sword, and for that reason, he’d picked them for tonight. But Mother had overruled him. Tosh picked a pair of pretty blondes instead, Anne and Ralline, since they seemed level-headed and hopefully wouldn’t panic when blades flashed from scabbards and blood splattered.
When Tosh had asked why he couldn’t have Prinn and Darshia, all Mother would say was that she’d explain later.
“I don’t like this place,” Tenni said.
“I thought you were glad for the chance to wear that pretty dress.”
She frowned, her eyes sweeping the room before settling on Tosh. “I like the dress. But this place is too full of people worried how they look in their dresses or their fine doublets. Somehow a dank Backgate tavern seems more honest.”
“Yes, honest,” Tosh said. “When they stick a knife between your ribs, you never have to wonder why. Sometimes I think—”
All heads turned to look at the newcomers coming through the pub’s front door, cold wind blowing in with them. Under the thin man’s furs Tosh glimpsed brightly colored silk robes. A Perranese official of some rank. Three guards with him, furs draped over full armor, swords swinging at their sides. Tosh guessed who it was but glanced at Urma anyway.
Urma nodded.
“That’s Dra’Kreeto,” Tosh whispered to Tenni.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “When?”
“Let him eat and drink and get sluggish,” Tosh said. “Then let the girls go to work.”
“Right.”
“We’ve got some time,” Tosh told her. “We’ll need to be ready to leave when he does, but it has to look natural.”
“I know.”
“We can’t follow too close,” Tosh whispered. “We just need to block the way in case Boon and Lubin—”
“I
know
.”
Tosh raised an eyebrow.
“Damn it, now
I’m
nervous.” She reached for her own goblet of wine and drained it.
The serving girl returned, and they let her refill the goblets.
“If this goes right, we won’t have to lift a finger.”
Tenni frowned at him. “You don’t think I can do my part?”
“I know you can,” Tosh said. “Don’t be so eager for blood.”
She tilted the goblet back again, not looking at him.
Tosh shifted his eyes to Anne and Ralline across the pub. They were also making special point of not looking at him. He just hoped they knew what to do and when.
You’ve got to trust other people, man. You can’t do it all yourself
.
But he was responsible. These girls were here because he’d taught them the sword. If he hadn’t done that, Mother never would have—
No. Focus. You’ve got bloodshed to do and you don’t want to fuck it up
.
They sipped wine and waited. The serving wenches cleared the empty plates away from Dra’Kreeto’s table. They brought him a thick and expensive sifter of brandy and a fat chuma stick. He smoked slowly, touching his brandy only occasionally.
Tosh watched Anne and Ralline.
Anne and Ralline watched Dra’Kreeto.
Tosh had to give the girls credit. They were patient. Urma had told them to wait until the Perranese official was two-thirds through the brandy. Tosh was sweating behind the ears. He glanced at Dra’Kreeto’s guards at another table. They sipped tea, sober and calm and big. They looked like they could kill everyone in the pub without breaking a sweat.
This is stupid. You’re going to get killed. Get up and walk out now
.
Tosh glanced at Tenni. No. She wouldn’t leave, and he wouldn’t leave without her.
He drank wine. He sweated under the arms now.
Anne and Ralline rose from their table and moved toward Dra’Kreeto. His glass was nearly empty.
Tosh felt like he might vomit. His eyes shifted to the Perranese soldiers. They took no notice the girls.
Anne and Ralline paused at Dra’Kreeto’s table. Casual. Just a couple of working girls. The Bawdy Baron wasn’t like the Wounded Bird, but of course there were working girls. Dressed nicely but showing just enough cleavage to make it clear what sort of wares they peddled. Urma had explained how it worked here. The establishment didn’t own the girls, but they got a kickback from any action. It was an arrangement that favored the tavern since they could kick out any of the girls who got too aggressive and disturbed the patrons.
Anne and Ralline weren’t aggressive. They almost passed Dra’Kreeto’s table without stopping, casting a glance, a quick smile. They were dressed just right, so the Perranese chamberlain would know exactly what they were. Prostitutes. The girls’ attire at the Wounded Bird tended toward flimsy shifts and loose robes that fell open at opportune times. Such displays wouldn’t do amid the upstanding patrons of the Bawdy Barron.
The girls wore tight dresses which offered more than the average show of cleavage, yet remained within the bounds of propriety. A bright paper flower tucked behind the ear let clients know a girl was open for business. They weren’t allowed to approach potential customers, but if a man beckoned them over they could then conduct any business they liked, as long as the pub got its share.
The girls had played it just right, and Dra’Kreeto gestured to the other chairs at his table. Urma had told Tosh earlier the blondes would do the trick. Dra’Kreeto evidently liked yellow hair. Tosh had paid off the pub’s usual girls the night before to clear out the competition.
A titter of laughter floated across the pub. Anne leaned in, touched the chamberlain’s arm, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
She’s good
, Tosh thought.
No wonder she had so many regulars
. As far as Tosh could tell, Dra’Kreeto was completely taken with her.
Tosh watched the conversation. He couldn’t hear, but he could guess. It had been prearranged. Dra’Kreeto nodded, maybe agreeing on a price. Anne gestured to Ralline.
Can my friend come too?
Dra’Kreeto intrigued, questions on his face, Anne shaking her head.
No not too much extra, not too expensive for a man of your means.
Dra’Kreeto said something to Ralline, who smiled and blushed. Some kind of compliment, maybe. The three of them rose from the table, heading for the door together.
The three soldiers rose immediately and followed.
Tenni nudged Tosh. He’d forgotten he was supposed to be leaving too. He rose without seeming to hurry and paid the serving wench.
Outside, the night stung bitterly cold. A narrow path had been shoveled down the center of the usually wide cobblestone road, making a path just wide enough for two people to pass each other. Tenni clung to him, shivering.
The weight of the long dagger at Tosh’s back felt cold and awkward.
Dra’Kreeto, the girls and the soldiers paused ahead of them at the mouth of the alley. They’d arrived at the make-or-break part of the plan.
Mother had wanted the chamberlain’s death to look like an accident. A runaway cart rolling over him in the street, maybe. But she’d also wanted it done fast. Tosh had explained that a believable accident would take time to arrange, but it turned out there’d been a rash of robberies in the neighborhood recently. Mother had said that was good enough. There would be reprisals if a Perranese official were slain in a robbery, but none of it would be connected to the Wounded Bird.
In theory.
For the plan to work, they needed to turn down the side alley where Bune and Lubin waited. Each of the girls had one of the chamberlain’s arms, and Anne gestured down the alley.
My place is down there. We could be out of the cold that much sooner
.
Tosh saw Dra’Kreeto shake his head. If he balked at Anne’s suggestion, then matters quickly became complicated. Tosh would be forced to make a quick decision—attack Dra’Kreeto in the open street in front of Dumo knew how many witnesses, or call off the attack all together. Would Anne and Ralline have to spend the night with the chamberlain to avoid arousing suspicion?
Blast it all, we rushed this plan without thinking it through
.
Chamberlain, guards and girls turned down the alley.
Tosh let his breath out, hadn’t realized he’d been holding it.
Tenni pulled him along. Their part was to hover near the mouth of the alley, keeping watch, and to make sure nobody followed. If the plan went off as hoped, Bune would emerge from the shadows and demand Dra’Kreeto’s purse. Of the three guards, one or two would move forward to fend off the robber.
Divide and conquer. Spread out those Perranese soldiers
.
And surprise was on their side. Tosh tried to take some comfort in that.
Tosh and Tenni stopped when they were in position. From the corner they could follow Dra’Kreeto’s progress down the alley as well as watch the road they were on.
Tenni took Tosh’s arm and squeezed.
Lubin stepped out of the shadows, cudgel in hand. He raised his voice for the benefit of those he knew to be listening. He wanted to make sure everyone knew the stage play had started. “Hand over your coin purse or I’ll knock your fucking teeth right out of your head.”
The soldiers didn’t hesitate, swords flashing from scabbards. Two rushed toward Lubin, spreading apart to come at him from two angles. The third soldier put himself between his master and the ensuing fray. Anne and Ralline clung to the Chamberlain. They would act afraid, and he would comfort them and so the surprise would be all the more.
Tenni pulled on his arm. “Tosh.”
Bune stepped out of the shadows next to Lubin, and the two Perranese soldiers stopped short, suddenly less sure of themselves.
With all eyes on the two bruisers, nobody noticed Anne hiking up her skirts, reaching for the dagger strapped to her thigh.
Tenni pulled on his arm more urgently. “Tosh!”
He turned his head, looked where Tenni pointed.
Urma had come halfway down the lane after them. She must have been in a hurry because she’d forgotten her cloak. She gestured frantically at something behind her.
Tosh looked beyond her.
A half dozen Perranese soldiers marched up the road.
Oh, fuck me fuck me fuck me
.
A crunch and a clang drew Tosh’s attention back to the alley. Lubin and Bune bashed helmets and skulls. One of the soldiers staggered back. The other was on his knees in front Lubin. The big man brought his cudgel down with both hands. The cudgel stove in the helmet, smashing the skull underneath. The soldier jerked once and fell over.
Anne was already in motion against the soldier who’d stayed back to guard Dra’Kreeto. She thrust the dagger into his armpit where there was a gap in the armor, just like Tosh had shown her. Blood gushed over her hand. She twisted and withdrew the blade, the soldier falling forward into the red-splattered snow.
If Ralline hadn’t hesitated, the plan might still have had a chance.
Maybe it was the thought of blood that made her balk. She brought her dagger around too slowly to take advantage of the surprise. Dra’Kreeto grabbed her arm and screamed something in Perranese.