Chapter 15
Cole
Disappointment. A gift Cole had never asked for.
The footsteps had only been the changing of guards.
Oxbow and Gunnar replaced by two men Cole didn’t recognize.
Kurtz tried the same tactics to win them over, but when that failed—and the sun set, cutting off the last light through the barred half window near the ceiling—he flopped onto his stomach on his cot, feet on the pillow, chin on folded arms, and glared out the bars at the distant torch.
The darkness grated on Kurtz, and Cole could only help by staying silent.
Lying on his cot, Cole examined the timber ceiling, thoughts circling Mistel and whether letting her stay had been a mistake. Clearly, he was doing a shoddy job of protecting her.
His head itched, and before he could scratch it, the king bloodvoiced a knock. Achan Cham.
Cole lowered his shields. Yes, sir?
Kurtz tells me he got you both arrested.
Unfortunately. We were trying to steal some keys—
He said you got them. Prince Oren doesn’t want me to interfere, so…I’m afraid you’re stuck for now. Hopefully, you won’t be there long.
Cole wanted to ask the king to check on Mistel—at the very least, tell her what had happened to them—but the mere thought of voicing such a request embarrassed him.
Still seeing Ebens? Achan asked.
No, actually. Not since the raiders in Mahanaim.
That’s good. What about Mistel?
Zanna took her shopping, so she’s likely very happy.
Achan laughed. I’m sure she is. Are the two of you, uh…Caleb is worried you’ve formed an attachment.
Caleb is worried. Of course, he was.
He’s afraid she’ll distract you with her feminine wiles.
Wiles?
Is there an echo?
Why doesn’t Sir Caleb bloodvoice me if he wants to give a lecture?
Because I told him to leave you alone unless you asked to talk to him. You’ve already got me nosing into all your business. Arman knows you don’t need him too. Speaking of which, would you say that you and Mistel are romantically involved?
Cole’s face flamed. Excuse me?
I know. That’s an impertinent question. And while Sir Caleb tells me I am king and can ask people whatever I want, it’s not my way.
Usually. Truth is, Vrell wants to know. She’s been begging me to ask you ever since the two of you first sang for us.
I told her it was none of our business, and I wasn’t going to bother you with such nonsense.
But since you’ve got nothing better to do at present…
Unless you’d rather tell the rest of the story about the Battle of Armonguard and the Eben.
I vowed we’d remain friends, Cole thought, the way she called him knightling and the kiss they’d shared in the forest near Glodwood Manor filling his mind with his blatant failure. The mission is more important. And we’re cousins, now, after all.
Yes, and my wife was once my squire, so…
Cole opened his mouth, his thoughts completely tangled. I don’t—
A distant snap broke the silence. The scuffle of feet. A grunt. Something fell at the end of the corridor, followed by a muffled groan.
Cole’s heart skipped. He rolled onto his side. Just a moment, Your Highness. Someone is coming.
Let’s hope it’s Lady Viola to set you free. I’ll leave you to it, then. The king ended their connection.
Kurtz was already on his feet, gripping the bars, staring into the dark corridor. “You hear that?”
Cole sat up and nodded, his pulse beating hard.
Seconds, then minutes passed without another sound. Kurtz stepped back. “Nothing.”
Cole stared through the bars, willing them to open. He felt like they were no longer alone, yet there was no evidence to prove it. “Must have been the guards.” He finally lay back on his cot.
“Cole?” came a whisper.
His head snapped up, and he glanced across the dark cell at Kurtz. “What?”
Kurtz frowned back at him. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Cole?” The voice came again.
Cole leaped to his feet. “Mistel?”
At the end of the corridor, a faint light swelled, revealing a shadowy, feminine figure with a lantern.
“Who else?” she said.
How in all Er’Rets? Cole kept his voice low. “We’re over here.”
Kurtz’s scowl melted into a grin. “About time. Figured Zanna was hoping I’d been killed.”
“She might be,” Mistel said. “Lucky for you both, you have me.”
She appeared then, a goddess of light, lifting a set of keys. The soft jingle was the sweetest sound Cole had heard all day. “Ready to leave, my knightling?”
Cole stepped to the door, only the bars between them. “What about the guards?”
“Zanna took care of them,” Mistel said. “But we need to hurry.”
Cole’s stomach knotted at the thought of Lady Viola finding more violence in Lytton Hall. “You shouldn’t have come. It’s too dangerous.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Mistel said, working the lock.
From behind Cole, Kurtz let out a laugh. “Remind me to buy you a drink at the tavern.”
“Make it two.” Mistel glanced at him while she worked. “One for freeing you, the other for getting us a gig at the Ice House.”
“Where?” Cole asked.
“Thusk’s alehouse,” Mistel said. “I went over there and got us hired for tomorrow night.”
Cole went cold all over. “How could you put yourself in harm’s way like that?”
She rolled her eyes, lips twisted to one side. “I’m not a child, Cole, and I don’t need your permission to take risks. Now hush and let me concentrate.”
Three more seconds, and when the lock clicked, Cole felt a shift. Mistel had freed them and secured a performance at Thusk’s alehouse. She was part of the Marad now, not just a tagalong needing protection, but a valuable contributor.
The realization hit harder than he expected. If she belonged with them, he had to stop worrying about her. But how could he do that when his heart was so deeply tangled with hers?
The next morning, a knock at Cole and Kurtz’s door in the Ivory Spit revealed Jol Quimby and Lovell Dunn.
A chill ran over Cole at the sight of the man who had jailed them last night. Struggling for words, he managed only, “What…?”
Quimby chuckled, clapping Cole’s shoulder as he stepped inside. “You’ve frightened the lad, Dunn.”
“It’s my face, isn’t it?” Dunn said. “Terrifies anyone who sees it. Best I wear a helm in public.”
Right. Only someone who looked like he belonged on a coin could say something like that with a straight face. Cole had little doubt women lined up to speak with Lovell Dunn.
Quimby shut the door. “Dunn’s worked for the Marad before. He can be trusted.”
“Trusted, my holey boot,” Kurtz said.
Cole had to agree. “He put us in the dungeon.”
Kurtz stepped up to Dunn, nose to nose. “You dragged me from the hall, manhandled me in Eric’s office, stayed silent when Lady Viola undermined Eric, then locked me up like a common criminal.”
Dunn’s grin parted his thick beard. “I follow orders. Always have, always will. And Viola didn’t undermine Eric. He let you go. Then she arrested you again.”
Kurtz folded his arms. “Eben’s breath, you’re her pet, aren’t you?”
“Eric left me in charge when you rode south to war,” Dunn said. “After I failed to keep Esek out of Lytton Hall.”
Kurtz sobered, and a grimace passed over his face. “That was partly my fault, it was.”
“No, it was mine. Kenton nearly killed me. I tried to resign. Eric had other plans, charged me with keeping his family safe. So I’ve done. But I’ll help you where I can.”
“I’ll take that as an apology, I will,” Kurtz said.
Dunn barked a deep laugh. “If it helps you sleep.”
Quimby handed Cole a set of keys. “One copy, ready for use.”
Cole pocketed them. “You don’t think Thusk suspects?”
“Nope,” Dunn said. “I gave him his real keys last night. All he had were complaints about unruly convicts.”
“Thusk’s a morality monger, is he?” Kurtz scoffed. “Let’s dig up his dirt, see how he likes Ice Island, eh?”
“Want to sit?” Cole gestured to the table by the hearth.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Dunn dropped onto a chair, which groaned under his weight.
Quimby and Kurtz took the others, leaving Cole to lean against the hearth.
“Tell them about the Howlers, Dunn,” Quimby said.
“Howlers work for Fenris Yarden,” Dunn said. “The council hired them to protect against Poroo raids.”
“Poroo don’t raid this far north, they don’t,” Kurtz said. “The tribes here are peaceful, eh?”
“Well, they are raiding,” Dunn said. “I’ve seen it myself. Could be displacement from the end of Darkness, hunger…Who knows?”
“Why would the end of Darkness be a problem?” Cole asked. “There’s more land now, more food.”
“The lad’s right,” Kurtz said. “That don’t add up, it don’t.”
“That’s why we want you playing at the Black Boar,” Quimby said. “It’s Tsaftown’s biggest haunt of thieves and outlaws.”
“Joonas Erlichman owns it,” Dunn added. “And Fenris Yarden made it his base.”
Cole recalled the mad glint in Fenris’s eyes when he’d been choking Kurtz. “Does Thusk have ties to Fenris or the Black Boar?”
“None that I know of,” Quimby said.
“Because he has his own alehouse?” Kurtz asked.
“The Ice House,” Dunn said. “Maybe. Thusk is greedy. Why send his lackeys elsewhere when he can take their coin himself?”
“We’ll let you know what we find,” Cole said.
“What’s your plan?” Dunn asked. “Just going to nose around?”
“Cole searches Thusk’s office. I stand guard,” Kurtz said.
“Plus, Mistel got us hired to play there tonight,” Cole added. “So if anyone asks, I’ll say I’m scouting the venue.”
“That place is a dump,” Quimby said.
“A dump below Thusk’s office,” Kurtz added.
“Don’t get caught,” Dunn said. “Thusk’s guards hurt first, ask questions later.”
Cole didn’t like the sound of that but said, “We’ll be careful.”