10. Kasten
The sun was lowering to the horizon when Sophie left the gardens, and I could no longer see her from my window. She had done little more than putter around and inspect the place, asking questions of the gardeners who had all removed their caps in surprise when they were spoken to. She was terrible at remembering to keep in the shade of the parasol Lucy carried, and the maid had eventually given up.
The reports and maps and endless supply lists still littered my desk, but it was pleasant to be able to lift my gaze from them now and again and see her happily immersed in the garden. It lifted some of the heaviness from my shoulders and reminded me that the world would continue, even after I was gone, and it wouldn’t all be pain and bloodshed and darkness. My wife would make things grow and flourish.
Once Sophie had disappeared, the restlessness returned. I summoned Lucy and drank a glass of whiskey, glad that Callum hadn’t returned from his workshop yet.
The maid had only half stepped through the door when I started to question her, too impatient to wait on formalities. “How is she getting on?”
She bobbed a curtsy and beamed. “Oh, she’s wonderful, my lord. So kind and considerate.” I could hear the unspoken words. Unlike what we’re used to.
I grunted and looked back out the window, but there was nothing there to catch my interest now. “She seems happy?”
“Yes, my lord. Though she has asked about seeing you again several times today. Dining with you in particular. She’s anxious to meet you properly.”
My heart dropped. “She’ll understand soon enough that I won’t be a large part of her life here. It won’t be long until the next campaign.”
Confusion flickered across the maid’s face, but she lowered her gaze and nodded.
“Have you learned anything new about her?”
“She likes tea but dislikes coffee. She was most interested in the herb garden. Her questions to the gardeners sounded quite knowledgeable.”
I nodded. “Hopefully, she can change it all to suit her. Have we got tea to her liking?”
Lucy’s lips pressed together as if to limit her smile. “I think so, my lord.” Was she laughing at me?
“Well, ensure we give her a good selection. Speak to the kitchen staff if needed.”
She bobbed a curtsy. “Oh, and tomorrow she has requested a formal meeting with Mistress Rose.”
I ran a finger over my jawline. “If you experience any problems there, do let me know. She should be allowed to manage things as she sees fit, but as I’ve previously said, there are certain things she shouldn’t find out.”
There had been enough darkness in her life already. She deserved a world filled only with light. Besides, the secrets here were deadly, and I would rather they died with me.
Lucy sensed the dismissal and scurried out. I heard a squeak of surprise from the other side of the door, and I paused, waiting to see who she had bumped into.
Before the latch could click into place, the door reopened and Sir Egbert, head of the Kasomere city guard, entered, bowing with a flourish that made his dark curls tumble forward. Foreboding stirred within me.
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat, though his voice was always gruff. “My lord, we have bad news. Robert has been arrested and Sir Cley has been taken in for questioning by the Adenburg city guard.”
My spine stiffened. “Whose authority are they currently under?”
“Lord Charles’s men caught Robert within their jurisdiction. Since there hasn’t been a trial yet, he’s still being held at Lord Charles’s estate. Duke James, who oversees the guard, has Sir Cley. Apparently, both are being held for ‘suspicious behavior.’” His eyes flicked sideways, and his breath seemed to catch.
“And what else?”
“There have been certain…insinuated threats.”
“Speak bluntly, man.”
“Duke James summons you and has stated he is not above executing Sir Cley and all the other men you sent if there is not a reasonable explanation for what he was doing.”
Hot rage built inside me, and I pushed it down as I had so many times before. Time and time again they goaded me, waiting for the day I would make a mistake in anger and give the king an excuse to execute me. Time and time again, until all my soft edges were knocked off and my heart was turned to cold stone.
I was sick of this. But I held fast.
I took a deep breath. “Lord Lyrason?”
“Doesn’t seem to be involved.”
I snorted in disbelief. Duke James was loyal to Lord Lyrason and allowed him direct influence on the city guard. If only that assassination had been successful.
If Robert was still being held by Lord Charles, I had a chance to save him and Sir Cley.
I looked at the gathering dusk outside. “Assemble an escort quietly. We’ll leave tonight. Make sure the news doesn’t spread. My hold on the peace here is already tenuous, and we need to stop this situation from getting any worse.” I straightened my belt and steeled myself for another sleepless night. “Oh, and tell Callum that just because I won’t be here for a few days, he has no excuse for slacking.”
On good horses,the roads were even enough that it was possible to travel from Kasomere to Adenburg in five hours. Riding hard, we reached the townhouse as the first light of dawn pinked the smoke-clogged horizon.
There was so little time. Every second my men spent as prisoners, meant a greater risk to all our safety. And the longer it would take to fix this mess. I had too many enemies all eager to find a weakness to present to the king.
Leaving most of my guard alert at the house in case we had repercussions, Sir Egbert and I continued on fresh horses, their hooves wrapped with cloth so they didn’t make a sound over the cobblestone roads. While we were still close to Highfair, weak kryalcomy lights lined the tidy streets in silver, but they were soon replaced with oil lamps, their glass so soot-stained, they were almost completely ineffective by the time we approached the river. The air became heavy with damp and decay, more unpleasant smells wafted from the sewage channels overflowing on the sides of the road, and rats scattered from the horse’s hooves into the misty darkness, before we turned to climb the hill and the lamps returned to kryalcomy again as we neared the Palace Quarter. Here—away from the river’s mist—dawn seemed to embrace the world more wholeheartedly. It wouldn’t be long before the servants headed out to collect bread from the bakers. Since I knew the location of Lord Charles’s estate, we wasted no time scouting or discussing tactics. Speed was everything today.
We approached from the back of the garden and dismounted. The wall was tall and sheer, easily twenty feet. I tossed the lead reins of my destrier to Sir Egbert. “Stay here and be prepared.”
The knight nodded. I pulled down my hood to shade my eyes and moved my silk scarf over my nose and mouth, thankful that it was still early enough for long shadows.
I scaled the wall without any effort and dropped into Lord Charles’s garden. My senses became alert as adrenaline coursed through me. The grass was slick with dew and the air heavy with the scent of roses. I kept one hand on a throwing knife as I walked soundlessly up the paving slabs to the shadowy veranda. Crouched by a bench, I listened for guards. There were two by the front door and two more by the gate. I could see their silhouettes shifting impatiently, one passing his spear from side to side as if anxious about something. None looked my way. Fools. I smirked and jumped up, catching the edge of the veranda with my fingertips and pulling myself up without a sound.
After a little exploration along the tiled roof, I took a thin sliver of metal and used it to open the largest window with richly embroidered curtains. As I hoped, it belonged to Lord Charles, confirmed by the sleeping form buried under silken sheets in a ridiculously wide bed. I closed the window behind me and stood at the footboard, bathed in shadow. What a fool. Almost anyone could have broken in.
I pulled a chair beside his bed and studied the sleeping, vulnerable older man. His dark hair was shot through with grey and the stubble on his mildly sagging jowls was white. I felt not an inch of pity for the terrible night he was about to have; the man deserved it. I threw the bedside jug of water over his tranquil face, and before he could cry out, I’d clamped my gloved hand over his mouth. He struggled, his hands raking ineffectually at my wrist.
“Stop moving and stay quiet,” I hissed. “Call your guards and I will slit your throat.”
The man stilled beneath me, and I lifted my hand. When he stayed frozen, I slouched back in the chair and put one leg across my knee. I waved my dagger in one hand and watched as his eyes followed it.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and eased himself to a sitting position. “I know who you are, boy,” he said at last.
I shrugged.
“When the king hears you’ve threatened me… When he hears what depths you have sunk to…” The man lifted a trembling hand.
I held up my palm and leaned forward. “Lord Charles, I am making all the threats tonight. Do I make myself clear?”
“But the king…” he started weakly.
I scoffed. “Do you think I care what the king thinks of me? Do you think I care about my reputation? I am not playing by the same rules as you. If you make trouble for me, I will come back. No matter how many guards you employ, I will be here, by your bed, and next time, I will strangle you slowly. Understand?”
The man paled, and his lips parted, but no sound escaped.
I cocked my head. “Now, you have a man in your keeping, I hear. A certain Robert. Tall, broad, red-haired.”
He nodded once.
“I will be taking him tonight. When questioned, you will say you released him because no charge was found against him. It was all a misunderstanding.” I dropped my voice to a more menacing tone. “If you say anything else, I will kill you. You will lie awake every night wondering when I will show up. You’ve heard the rumors. You know nothing will stop me. What you don’t know is just how cruel I can be when provoked. Kollenstar has given me a lot of inspiration.”
His throat bobbed.
I steepled my fingers. “Where are you keeping him?”
He licked his lips, but his words still came out hoarse. “He’s in the stables. Under guard.”
I leaned forward and patted the covers over his knee. “There’s a good man. I will relieve you of the trouble of dealing with him.”
I stood slowly and motioned toward him with my dagger. “And if you say a word about me to anyone, I will know. I always know.”
I melted back into the shadows and out of the window. I chuckled darkly wondering how long it would be before the man could get a good night’s sleep again. I suspected that he would be employing a lot more guards in the morning. It might be worth planting one of my men.
I froze on the veranda for the count of sixty, waiting to see if Lord Charles would raise the alarm. I hadn’t intended to kill anyone tonight, but I would if I had to. I could kill without thinking now. That was how much of a monster I”d become. It always amused me how the king and his nobles had made me this way, yet it was what they feared and hated about me the most. Well, it was too late now.
The night stayed quiet.
I dropped down to the garden in a crouch, then crept between borders of tall flowers toward the stable. Overhead, bats flittered in the growing dawn light as they returned to roost.
I suspected my threats would keep Lord Charles quiet at court, but I was less confident that he would keep this secret from Lord Lyrason. The man had to be involved. He was always involved in these murky, backhanded affairs, keeping hidden behind others. He would want to know why the prisoner was released and would push Lord Charles if he lied. He played by his own rules too. Rules I didn’t yet know and couldn’t predict. I hated that I couldn’t face him directly yet, and was reduced to playing this stupid game by proxy. It left me with nothing but suspicions within suspicions.
Two men guarded the stable door, and I was out of time for distraction and sneaking. I needed efficiency. I crept behind the nearest guard and drove the blunt hilt of my dagger into the side of his neck, right over his carotid sinus. The man dropped instantly. His partner turned to me in shock, and I knocked his sword arm aside before giving him a matching blow. The angle wasn’t as good, but he still crumpled to the ground.
I sat the men up so they appeared to be sitting against the stable wall, then snuck inside. I passed several stalls occupied by horses until I came to one without straw, its bars all the way to the ceiling.
A young man, little more than a boy, sat hunched there, his slender shoulders hugging his knees. I recognized him; he was one of the Red Men who often lingered at the back of their gatherings. Jack Nettle, often called The Nettle. He looked up as I approached.
“Tar’ratha. General Batton.” His whole countenance changed as he leapt to the bars. “Have you come to help us? Will you show the device to the king?” His pleading, excited look made him seem even younger. Far too young to be caught up in this mess.
I shifted, fixing him with a glare. “I told you all before, I am not one of you.”
Jack frowned. “But you’ve helped us on…”
I scowled. “Just because I’m not one of you, doesn’t mean I like watching you idiots get yourselves killed. But I’m not your accomplice.”
The boy sat back, looked down, and swallowed. “My lord, we have many shared goals. Jacob said he was hopeful you would change our mind. If we…”
I held up my hand, my irritation growing. “You know nothing about my goals, boy. And we are not working together.”
He paled slightly. “Even if you won’t take Lord Lyrason’s device to the king, if we could have access to just a few of your devices, it would change everything…”
I pushed myself up against the bars. “How do you know about those devices?” Robert. What had he said or done now? Jack stepped back but I loomed over him. “They are the only thing keeping my men alive. Thousands of men. I will not have their lives put in danger by the little games you people play. You will never mention those devices again to anyone. Do you understand?”
He nodded, a tremble running down his spine. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”
I sighed and turned to leave, not waiting for him to recover, but the man spoke again. “My lord, if you ever change your mind, or if you need us, we’ll be waiting for you.”
I scowled over my shoulder. “Get out of this mess while you still can. Leave the Red Men. This path in life won’t serve you.”
I left him kneeling in the darkness and checked the next cell. Empty. I turned the corner to the next. Robert sat in the gloomy corner. His cheeks were drawn and there was dried blood on his temple. Despite clearly having been through hell, he scrambled to his feet, bowing as soon as he saw me, and started spewing dramatic apologies. Unlike the Red Man, his hands and feet were manacled.
I held up my hand and gestured for him to stay quiet. He immediately fell silent, watching with bright eyes as I drew my fansifold knife. I switched it on and waited for it to heat up, the red glow illuminating the cell. It made quick work of the door, slicing through the lock. Robert hurried forward, and I sliced through his manacles, only moderately careful not to burn his skin. The idiot could do with a permanent reminder of his carelessness.
“Thank you, General.” He breathed. “I didn’t expect… You should have left me. This will cause you trouble.”
I glared at him. “Don’t remind me or I may still be tempted to leave you.”
He nodded and shut up.
I grabbed his arm and pulled him back the way we came. I stopped at Jack’s cell and sliced open his padlock. “Count to one hundred, then leave as quietly as you can. But you’re on your own. Remember what I said.”
The boy nodded vigorously, but I didn’t wait for his response, as I hurried into the garden with Robert.
Robert didn’t have my training or equipment and was weakened from hunger and beatings, but he crept through the garden on quick legs and only needed a little help to scale the wall. The man was strong and resilient and clearly needed more excitement in his life. His days as a construction man were over. He was going straight into the regiment when we got home.
Sir Egbert lifted Robert onto his horse while I scowled at the sun rising over the red tiled rooftops. Couldn’t it have waited just one more hour?
“To Highfair,” I ordered, and we rode as fast as the growing bustle in the streets would let us, keeping our faces shadowed by the cowls of our hoods.