City of Rogues: Book I of the Kobalos Trilogy (7 page)

Chapter Nine

Black smoke clawed its way through a thin layer of river fog to grasp at the early morning sun. For miles the inhabitants of Bond could see the belching imprint in the sky that marked the ruin of Belgad’s ships.

The bald man himself stood on the street of the Docks, staring up at the inky line of smoke rising above his small, ruined fleet. He faced the remains of his ships, husks of wooden hulls floating on the North River, with fists on hips and a crowd of riffraff at his back. A group of his personal guards kept the morning onlookers at bay while Belgad fumed.

He could hear the chatter amongst the masses. Some were wondering who would be stupid enough to do such a thing. Others were wondering who was so powerful as to do such a thing. Still others kept their mouths closed because they knew better than to draw out the rage that was building in the breast of the large man before them.

The cloppings of an approaching horse caused Belgad to turn.

Sergeant Gris dismounted at the edge of the masses, handing the reins of his steed to one of Belgad’s men.

“
I heard as soon as I started my shift,” the sergeant said as he walked forward.

Belgad glared at the other fellow. “
Out of your jurisdiction, isn’t it?”

Gris ignored the question. “
Captain Chambers will speak with you later, but I wanted a word before his interview.”

Belgad was silent as he turned back to watch the remnants of his ships bouncing in the river’s flow.

“
That fire at Trelvigor’s a week ago,” Gris said, counting off on gloved fingers, “then I hear some of your men were killed several nights ago, and now this. I’ll be blunt. What is happening?”

Belgad’s brow creased, framing his eyes in anger. He owed nothing to the sergeant, even as good a man as Gris was. Belgad was technically a knight, thus he had to answer only to the Western church. Besides, it was not in Belgad’s nature to confide in those outside his inner circle.

He grunted. “
Nothing with which I can not deal.”

“
That’s fine for you,” Gris said, “but word is spreading there is a street war brewing. If that’s the case, the guard doesn’t need it spilling over to innocent citizens.”

Belgad glared at the man again. “There are no innocent citizens.”

It took every ounce of inner strength Gris had not to step back from those brooding eyes and the menacing voice.

“
There is no street war.” Belgad turned his gaze back to his burnt prizes. “There is only some fool with a thirst for vengeance.”

“
Do you know who it is?”

“
I have no idea,” Belgad lied, “but my own people are asking questions. Once they discover this devil, I will deal with him.”

“
Lord Belgad, let me be of aid.” Gris tried a different approach. “My men could be of much service to you, and I know a man who is a fine tracker. ”

Belgad’s dark eyes were flat and steady on the blackened remains of his ships. “I have no need of your services, sergeant, and as a Knight of the Western Church, I can call upon my own authority in dealing with this matter.

“
You may go now.”

Sergeant Gris knew he would get no further with the big man. Belgad did not act much like a knight, but a knight he was, and he had his own authority under the law of the land.

Gris nodded and backed away. “I’ll make Captain Chambers aware of the situation,” he said as he retraced his steps to his horse.

Belgad said nothing and did not bother to watch the sergeant climb into the saddle.

Soon after Gris rode off, the crowd began to thin. Many of the gawkers had to be to work or to breakfast. It didn’t pay, watching a rich man’s fortunes go up in smoke.

“
Master Belgad.” The voice came from the crowd.

Belgad wouldn’t have moved if he had not recognized the speaker. He turned as Lalo the Finder eased between two armed guards and approached his employer.

“Fine of you to join me.” Belgad waved a hand toward the remains of his ships. “You see what a fine gift master Darkbow has left?”

The Finder frowned at the vision before him. “
Are you sure it was him, lord?”

Belgad nodded. “I questioned Gossimer and Fortrude. They described him the same as Stilp.”

“
Did this Darkbow speak with them?”

“
A l
ittle, but his purpose is apparent. He wishes to ruin me.”

“
And perhaps more than that.”

Belgad turned to stare at his man. “What do you mean?”

“
This Darkbow has no qualms about killing. And he’s rather bent upon revenge against you. It seems likely to me he will eventually make an attempt on your life.”

Belgad’s eyes remained brooding. So what if his enemy wanted him dead? Plenty of men had wanted Belgad dead. He did not fear death, as was the custom among the men of his Dartague homeland, but that did not mean he would greet finality with open arms.

Belgad turned back to glare at his dead ships. “
Cancel my meeting this afternoon with the economics forum.”

“
What of Fortisquo?”

“
I still want to meet with him. Fetch him yourself if you have to, but I want him in my hall before the day is done.”

“
As you wish, my lord.”

***

Adara Corvus wasn’t sure what woke her. Perhaps it was the light steps of Fortisquo as he tip-toed away from the bed. Perhaps it was the jangling of his belts as he slipped into a pair of pants. Perhaps it was the soft metallic click of the bedroom door as he opened it and stepped through. Or perhaps it was simply that Adara no longer felt his warmth next to her in the bed.

No matter. The tall, slender form of the man with the goatee was gone, like many men in Adara’s life.

She opened her eyes and stretched, running a hand through the place Fortisquo had been sleeping only minutes before. Her eyes roamed the room and came to rest on the chair next to the bed. Two long, thin swords with stylish pommels leaned against the chair, while a pair of black boots sat crumpled in the seat.

Adara’s eyes darted to the bedroom door as she realized Fortisquo was not, in fact, leaving her. The man wouldn’t have gone anywhere except the privy without his weapon.

The door stood open an inch and Adara could hear soft voices beyond.

The curiosity was too much for her.

Gathering silky sheets around her slender body, Adara slunk from the bed, each toe of her feet settling gently on the thick rug beneath the bed. She was halfway to the door when she heard Fortisquo speaking with someone who expressed a feminine voice.

Jealousy did not build itself in Adara. She felt no man was worth the effort. But she did grow intrigued.

Stepping to the open door, Adara stared into the apartment’s entertaining room, which bore padded furniture and more expensive rugs on the floor.

“
Where is he now?” Fortisquo reclined on a couch while lifting a glass of red wine to his lips.

To Adara’s surprise the person who sat in a chair across from Fortisquo turned out not to be a woman, but a man nearly as slender and tall as Fortisquo himself. His body was at an angle so Adara could not see his face, but still she could make out the man’s expensive blue robes and the traveling cloak that covered his shoulders. She could also see the stranger’s casual movements. Adara knew a man trained in the arts of diplomacy when she saw one.

“
He is still at the Docks,” the newcomer said, motioning toward a window. “He is waiting to hear word you will meet with him this afternoon.”

Fortisquo set his glass on a table next to the couch. “I see no reason to meet with Lord Belgad.”

The robed man leaned forward as if to add gravity to his entreaty by closing the space with Adara’s lover. “
He means you no disrespect and no harm.”

“
In the past—”

“
The past is of little concern,” the man interrupted. “Lord Belgad is only concerned with the present.”

Fortisquo's eyes sharpened. Adara recognized the look. It was the same stare Fortisquo gave an opponent at the start of a duel.

The stranger eased back in his seat. “
Will you meet with him?”

Fortisquo shook his head. “No.”

“
Lord Belgad does not enjoy disappointments.”

The slender fencing artist held his ground, saying nothing.

“
Very well, then.” The robed man stood, his cloak and robes swaying about his feet. “I will inform Lord Belgad of your refusal. Let his reaction be upon your head.”

“
Tell Lord Belgad I have already played my part in his play.” Fortisquo’s voice was cold.

The robed man opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it. He stopped himself from saying more and exited the room.

Once he was alone again, Fortisquo drained the glass of its wine.

Adara silently turned to go back to the bed.

“
How long have you been there?” It was Fortisquo’s voice from the entertaining room.

Adara thought to play quiet but realized that would not do. Fortisquo was an excellent fencer with superb senses. He was trained to notice small details and to take advantage of them. He would know if she were there or not, now that she had been detected.

She stepped back to the door and opened it so Fortisquo could see her body outlined beneath the silk sheets.
“
Since you asked about the whereabouts of some man,” she answered.

Fortisquo’s long fingers played with the glass in his hand, finally placing the object neatly in the center of the table in front of him.
“
You didn't hear much.”

Adara nodded.

“
But, still ...” The fencing master hesitated, running his fingers across his lips.

Adara let the sheets fall from her body.

Fortisquo’s eyes widened.

The woman pursed her lips. “
Still?”

“
Dammit all!” Wearing a grin, Fortisquo jumped to his feet and marched toward her. “I suppose I can kill you
after
we make love!”

***

Of course Fortisquo had been joking when he’d threatened to slay Adara. He would no more kill a woman of her beauty than he would drop a bag of gold into a river. Both ideas would be repugnant to him. Besides, he knew he would have one hell of a fight on his hands. He would win. Of that he was sure. But he was positive he would not walk away unscathed from a duel with the slender female.

He grinned as he slid from the rumpled bed and into his pants. He could not imagine knowingly attacking Adara, but daydreaming about ways to conquer a formidable foe was another matter. Fortisquo didn’t get to be one of the best rapirists and assassins in West Ursia by daydreaming about women and sex all day long.

“
Why are you smiling?” Adara asked from the bed. “What are you thinking?”

Fortisquo’s grin grew wider beneath his thin mustache as he pulled a silk white shirt over his head. “That’s a woman's question.”

Adara squinted one eye. “Then give a man’s answer.”

Fortisquo laughed and strapped on his sword belt. He placed one finger on his chin while staring upward as if in deep thought.

His playful eyes shifted back to her. “I don’t know.” Then he laughed.

A pillow smacked him in the face.

The swordmaster gripped the cushion, bringing it above his head to fling back, but the woman had already slid across the bed and was standing there naked with a thin sword, a rapier, in her hand.

Fortisquo chuckled as he saw the pointed end of the blade leveled at his eyes.
“
What are you planning to do with that?”

Adara gave a half bow, then stood in a fencing posture, her left hand behind her back and the right hand slightly extended with the rapier’s blade pointed at Fortisquo’s face. She stood on the balls of her feet as her right foot faced forward a couple of steps ahead of her left foot, which was turned outward slightly.

The fencing master tossed the pillow onto the bed. “Enough play, woman! I’m hungry!”

Adara took a step back. “You’ve already eaten this morning," she said with a squinted eye.

It was too much for Fortisquo. A hungry belly laugh erupted from him as he turned away and waved a hand at the woman.

Adara lowered her weapon. “
Where are you going?”

Fortisquo shot a look back. “I’m going to have breakfast while you dress. We can’t spend all day in bed!”

Adara tossed the sword on the sheets. “I don’t know why not,” she said, pulling on her britches. “It wouldn’t be the first time we stayed in bed all day.”