CHAPTER 15 #3
“There is a nice little rebellion brewing on the border with the Selva Dukedom,” Reynald said, his eyes iced over.
“And the rebels require iron for weapons and armor. When the word of them arming themselves reaches Sauven, he will send the royal inspectors to the nearest iron producer, the Yolentas. They are the most obvious suspects. Bribing the inspectors won’t work.
They fear Sauven much more than they love money.
They will open Dreantia’s books, discover the theft, and her life will be forfeit. ”
He had put it all together.
“Exactly,” I said. “The iron for the rebels has to come from somewhere. Indora can’t steal it from the Yolentas’ mines—they are watched too closely by her aunt’s people. Nor can she buy it abroad, because Dreantia pays attention to her spending.”
“Hreban.” Reynald spat the word like it was poison.
“Yes. Hreban is quietly training a private army. He will need weapons and armor. He and Indora struck a deal. He supplies her with iron he buys elsewhere, and she smuggles it in with pink salt and distributes it to the rebels. In return, when she takes over the family, she will funnel weapons and armor to his troops.”
The partnership between the monarchs of Rellas and the Keepers of Iron was centuries old.
As a ruler, you would want your most trusted ally to run the mines.
When dynasties changed, so did the identity of the Keepers, although the Yolentas had kept the iron the longest. They had the gift of Copper Glean.
Their magic allowed them to find mineral wealth beneath their feet and granted them enhanced understanding of metallurgy.
When the Savarics took the throne centuries ago, the Yolentas were their greatest allies. But time and greed had eroded that bond. Indora Yolenta had no qualms about throwing her lot in with Ulmar Hreban.
“But why Falcon Point?” Will asked. “How does it connect?”
“Dreantia isn’t stupid. She also wants to know where the rebel iron is coming from, and she suspects that there is a traitor in the family.
Last month Dreantia replaced the head commander of the knights guarding Kryss Britin with Sir Drogen, her loyal dog.
Indora paid off the inspectors, but with Drogen looking over their shoulder, her barrels won’t pass.
She needs the knights to disappear for the day so she can push her salt caravan through. ”
“It’s a distraction,” Lute said. “But why would the knights drop everything and ride to rescue a small fort?”
“That’s the best part.” I smiled at him. “Falcon Point is where Dreantia hides her stolen gold. She will do anything to protect it.”
“That is clever,” Clover murmured.
I faced the Magnars. “Filderon is due to ship out in two days. If we do nothing, all of those mercenaries will die a pointless death. If we do something, we will draw attention to ourselves.”
And hit the timeline with a hammer the size of Gort’s maul.
Silence claimed the table.
“The company can’t ship out without the broker,” Will said. “Filderon is the linchpin.”
“Take him out and it all falls down,” Lute said.
“How is our friend Filderon?” Shana said. “I haven’t seen him in ages. We should have dinner.”
“If the four of you take action against Filderon and it’s discovered, you will never work as mercenaries again,” I warned. “You know what happens to mercenaries who kill a broker.”
“We will be blacklisted,” Will said. He didn’t sound the least bit upset about it.
“Oh no,” Lute said, his voice bland. “Whatever shall we do?”
Gort faced me. “What happens to Filderon after Falcon Point?”
“He gets his payout and buys an estate near Praul Britin. He grows grapes and makes wine.”
“Is it any good?” Gort asked.
“He thinks so. Calls it Falcon’s Tears.”
Gort looked at Reynald.
“Don’t be seen,” the blademaster said.
Gort smiled.
The two Magnar brothers grinned at me in unison. Next to Gort, Shana bared her teeth. They looked like a family of werewolves about to sprout fangs and claws. If their eyes started glowing, I wouldn’t be at all surprised.
Gort rose. “I’ll go set up a meet. We’ll want to discuss this job somewhere quiet.”
“What if he rejects that invite?” I asked.
“Oh, he’ll see us.” Gort’s eyes turned cold and angry. “When he was trying to lure me in, he kept mentioning the boys, and I couldn’t understand why. It’s an old-dog job.”
“He didn’t want two grown men coming around asking how their father died,” Reynald said.
And if Gort and both his sons died at Falcon Point, the only one asking questions would be Shana, and Filderon must’ve decided he could handle her. That fucking slime.
“Go get him, love,” Shana said.
Gort motioned to Lute. “Think you can play the part?”
“I have this.” Lute nodded. “I’ll tell him all about how times are tough, and my brother is breaking his back at the docks.”
The two of them left the kitchen.
“Well, it’s about time for dinner.” Shana nodded to Kaiden. “Come with me. I’ll need things from the cellar.”
“I’m going to wash the wharf off.” Will headed into the hallway.
In a moment it was just Reynald, Clover, and me.
“I’ll see Gort and Lute out,” Clover said. She got up and turned to me. “You were amazing, my lady.”
Aw.
Clover left the kitchen.
Reynald stood up. I looked at him.
“Regrets?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Filderon is a man who sacrifices other people to put coin in his pocket. He deserves everything that’s coming to him.”
Reynald leaned slightly toward me. A little light played in his green eyes. He was strikingly handsome right now for some reason. Suddenly I was acutely aware of the space between us. I knew exactly where his hands rested on the table and how close his face was to mine.
“For the record,” he said, his voice quiet, almost intimate, “I also think you’re amazing.”
The world stopped. Say something, don’t just stare at him . . . “Thank you, Sir Reynald.”
He gave me a scorching smile and left the room.
All of the air went out of me, and I slumped into my chair. That was too much.
Entirely too much.