Authors: Kelly McCullough
Broken Blade (39 page)
Third, deniability. If Deem—or whoever the witnesses turned out to be—did spot Devin, he needed to be someplace where the baroness could reasonably claim to have had nothing to do with his presence. It probably wouldn’t save her if Devin was caught in the act; but if he was spotted beforehand or couldn’t be linked to any obvious tampering afterward, it might keep her neck off the block. That put any position within the house off-limits to Devin, leaving him on the roof or somewhere on the ground.
Finally, he had to know he couldn’t trust the baroness. Especially if he’d seen the glyph rack in the torture chamber Maylien had rescued me from. He’d want a quick way out in case the baroness decided to sell him to the Elite.
All of which meant Devin only had one really good option for his sniper’s nest, a particularly deep niche between the end pair of dormers on the west-facing wing of the house. There
were
other choices but none as good: a similar perch atop the east-facing wing, but at that hour it would be in full sun, which would make him easier to spot as well as putting the sun in his eyes. There was also a second-floor balcony on the main house that would provide a cleaner shot and better concealment, but it would make escape virtually impossible if the Elite did spot him.
were
other choices but none as good: a similar perch atop the east-facing wing, but at that hour it would be in full sun, which would make him easier to spot as well as putting the sun in his eyes. There was also a second-floor balcony on the main house that would provide a cleaner shot and better concealment, but it would make escape virtually impossible if the Elite did spot him.
It would be the dormer. Of course, that all assumed the baroness really had set Devin up as a backstop, but I had no doubts. People who hired the sort of person Devin had become never played fair.
Over the next three-quarters of an hour, the rain tapered off, and the clouds started to break up, exposing the dawn sun as a half disk lying on the crest of the Kanathean Hill. If everything had gone right with Maylien—and I felt sure there’d have been a serious commotion if it hadn’t—she would be issuing her challenge in short order. Time to move. I ducked around the chimney and crept along the back of the wing. I wanted to come down on Devin’s position from above and behind.
When I finally poked my head over the peak of the roof I spotted a pool of too-deep shadow exactly where I’d expected to find Devin. He really didn’t have another good choice. Ducking down, I moved back far enough to put the nearer of the two dormers between us. Then I slipped over the ridgeline and moved silently out onto the dormer, a process made much easier by the thick lead of the roof. One of the things I loved about working great houses was that they never went for the cheaper and noisier options like slate or terra-cotta tiles.
It took a while, but eventually I was lying along the roof of the dormer directly above and out of sight of the dark blot that concealed Devin. I wanted to wait until events below provided a distraction before making my move. Obligingly enough, I’d only just come to rest when a small coach pulled up beside the arched stone gate at the foot of the garden. It was pulled by a stone dog. As I lifted the curtain of shadow from in front of my eyes so that I could see better, the coach’s door opened, and Colonel Deem climbed down from the cab.
He was followed a moment later by another familiar face, a stiff-backed Captain Fei of the watch. Though it was hard to tell from this distance, the combination of her posture and demeanor suggested Fei was mighty unhappy about something. As Deem passed the stone dog on his limping way to the house, he waved his hand and triggered a small spell that released the creature from the traces so it could join him. At no time did he or his familiar so much as glance back at Fei.
A noise from the main doors drew my attention away from Deem then. Sumey was descending the front stairs, followed by a virtual explosion of servants and guards. She wore both the baronial coronet and her chain of office. While she continued down the path toward Deem, most of her retinue peeled off at the base of the steps. Some started setting out chairs, tables, and all the other accoutrements of a formal audience while others took a length of rope and began staking out a large dueling ring.
“Colonel Deem,” the baroness called as they closed. “So nice to see you.” She offered him her hand to tuck into his elbow. “Come sit with me while I wait for this charade to be over.”
She nodded vaguely at Fei as she turned back toward the house, but that was the only acknowledgment she made of the other woman. Clearly she was no more happy with the second crown witness than Deem was. Not happy, but also not surprised. I wondered what that meant but had no way of finding out, so I pushed it aside for later thought. Fei didn’t look happy either, wrinkling her nose at the retreating back of the baroness.
Soon Sumey and the colonel were seated side by side at the center of the furniture arrangement, with the colonel’s stone dog at their feet. Fei was shunted off to a slightly smaller but still comfortable seat on one side. Servants continued to dash back and forth from the house, bringing tea and cakes and other dainties. As the minutes slid past I began to worry about Maylien.
Then, the baroness leaped to her feet and pointed at a young maid in an ill-fitting red dress, demanding loudly, “You there, girl, what’s that you’re carrying?” The girl had a long slender bundle of fabric tucked under one arm, which she now raised in both hands.
“Your death, Sumey,” she declared in ringing tones, and I recognized her voice as Maylien’s.
“What!” yelled Sumey. “Wait, guards, stop her!”
But Maylien was already too close for anyone to interfere with the challenge, and, with many a sidelong glance at Deem and Fei, the guards did nothing.
When she saw that, the baroness turned a sneering gaze on her sister. “You come to challenge me in the clothes of a maid? How humiliating for you.” As she had all along, she pitched her voice high and clear, a noble used to playing for her court.
Maylien didn’t say anything, just reached inside the bundle and withdrew her sword. Then she slipped the tip of the blade into the front of her bodice and, in a surprisingly graceful move, slit the dress completely down the front. It fell away to reveal a loose divided skirt and a shirt, all in a rich jade silk. For reasons not readily apparent, the baroness stiffened angrily.
Maylien shrugged off the remnants of the dress. “I come to challenge you in the clothes of the woman you murdered, our mother, Juli Dan Marchon, last true ruler of Marchon. I am Maylien Dan Marchon Tal Pridu and I claim my right under the Code Martial of Zhan to offer blood challenge to Sumey Dan Marchon Tal Pridu. I challenge for the rule of the Barony of Marchon and I call on the representatives of the crown here present at my request to witness the duel.” She, too, spoke for the audience.
Deem rose from his chair, a tightly closed look on his face, and addressed the baroness, “I am honor-bound to point out that I know this woman to be a mage.” He turned to Maylien. “As a duly sworn representative of the crown, I may recognize your right to challenge under the Code Martial if and only if you forswear the use of any magic for the duration of the duel. Do you so forswear the use of magic?”
“By my honor and my blood, I do so forswear it.”
“Then I will witness your challenge for the crown.”
Captain Fei now rose from her chair. “Likewise, I’m sure.” Deem turned a glare on the captain, and Fei shrugged, but then nodded. “As a duly sworn representative of the crown, I will witness the challenge here issued. That make you happy, Colonel?”
Deem turned to the baroness. “Baroness Marchon, the challenger has forsworn magic and her blood claim is valid. Will you accept the challenge and duel to the death? Or will you refuse it and concede the baronial coronet, going into voluntary exile forthwith?”
“I accept. Captain,” she called to the head of her guard, “bring me my sword.” She turned to Maylien. “This is going to end with me bathing in your blood.” Then she laughed. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy spilling your life away as I’ve enjoyed nothing else in years, sister mine.”
“Then you’ve become a true child of our father the butcher, Sumey.” Maylien shook her head sadly. “I loved you once. You know that, don’t you? Somewhere down in the hell that has come to fill your head, you have to remember what it meant to be sisters.”
Sumey didn’t answer, just smiled and drew the sword her guard captain offered her. I used the noise to cover the drawing of a long dagger of my own. When Sumey gestured for her sister to proceed her into the ring, I noted that her sword was unusually broad and heavy for a dueling blade—an odd choice.
Maylien stepped over the rope, crossing to the far side of the ring and turning back to her sister. “Having recently seen evidence of the depravity you take pleasure in these days, I’ve no doubt spilled blood brings you joy. I only hope you can still smile when the blood on the ground is yours. Then at least one of us will be happy with what has to happen here today.” She raised her sword. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Sumey took off her coronet and the formal chain of baronial office with its insignia of a jade fox on a golden background, handing them both over to Deem to be presented to the winner. Next she took off her formal jacket and other outer garments, stripping down to her own shirt and divided skirt for the duel. Then she entered the ring and likewise raised her sword.
The two sisters faced each other now across a distance of perhaps twenty-five feet. They were much of a size, though Sumey was slightly broader across the shoulders. Both wore loose silk, Sumey’s a golden brown that complemented her sister’s green. As the two began to slowly circle and move together, I edged closer to the lip of the roof and Devin below. Soon.
Sumey suddenly lunged at her sister, swinging a low cut at Maylien’s right knee. Maylien parried while simultaneously hopping back. There was a bright clash of steel and Maylien’s sword bent sharply, slowing Sumey’s just enough to allow her jump to carry her clear, before springing back straight as she brought it up and around.
What the hell? I’d fenced with Maylien only a few days previously, helping her train for the fight, and not even my heaviest strokes had that kind of effect on her sword. Unless Sumey was a good bit stronger than I was, that shouldn’t have happened.
If Maylien was surprised, she didn’t show it, using the impetus of her sister’s blow to flip her blade around into a neat backhanded slice at Sumey’s throat. Without showing any sign of effort, Sumey brought her much heavier sword up in a hard parry that slapped Maylien’s blade aside. Again, Maylien flowed with the movement, eeling her blade down and around in a corkscrew to slash at Sumey’s thigh.
Rather than parry, Sumey moved forward so that Maylien’s hilt caught her rather than the blade, though she didn’t stop there. She bulled forward and crashed chest first into her sister. Maylien flew back and away, losing her footing. Though she managed to turn the fall into a backward roll, it almost took her clear of the ring, which would have been very bad form.
I lost track of the duel over the next few seconds because whatever happened to Maylien, I needed to settle with Devin, and Maylien’s fall offered the perfect distraction. I rolled over the edge of the dormer, dropping about five feet to land on Devin. I’d intended to use my dagger and the weight of my body to nail him to the roof—you don’t let a target live. Especially one as dangerous as Devin.
Deem’s presence in the garden below should have been more than reminder enough for that. But when the moment actually came, I found that I just couldn’t kill a man who’d once been a brother to me. Not like this. Not stabbing from behind in cold blood. As I fell, I shifted the dagger out from between us, smacking him behind the ear with the pommel as soon as contact allowed me to judge that target instead. Devin grunted noisily, and I hoped that the sounds of the duel below would cover it. I moved my dagger to lie against the right side of his neck, just above the big artery.
“Hello, Devin,” I whispered into his ear. It was just him and me at the moment, since Zass and Triss were both in cloud shape and submerged by our respective wills. “We need to have a little talk.”
“Why not just kill me and get it over with?” he asked after a moment, and I could hear strain and pain in his voice. “It’s what I’d do to you.”
I really didn’t have an answer for that, not one I was willing to tell Devin anyway. Telling him that he still mattered to me would be like handing him a dagger with my name on it. Instead, I looked back down at the duel. I couldn’t say why, but I wanted to know the results there before I made any final decisions about Devin.
There had clearly been several more passes to the fight, though none conclusive. Maylien was orbiting her sister now, moving in fast for tiny cuts at wrist or foot and refusing to fully engage. From what I could see over the next minute or two, it was her best strategy. She was clearly a better swordswoman than her sister, and she should have been able to parlay that into a quick victory, but she had two major disadvantages.
Sumey’s much heavier sword and seemingly unnatural strength and stamina. Normally, the weight of that sword would have worked against Sumey in anything longer than the briefest of matches. Whipping it around as wildly as Maylien was forcing her to should already have tired her out, but the weight didn’t seem to bother Sumey at all. That strength allowed her to use the heavier blade as a hammer on her sister’s more conventional dueling sword, smashing it repeatedly in a clear attempt at breaking Maylien’s blade.
“What the hell is happening down there?” I asked, though I didn’t expect any answers.
Devin let out a cruel little snort. “What’s happening is that Sumey is going to carve her precious older sister into cutlets while you watch from the sidelines. Of course, it could never have ended any other way.”
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