Warlord (42 page)
Authors: Jennifer Fallon
“And how are you going to prove it?”
“I’m not. You are.”
“
Me
?”
Me
?”
“You obviously have her confidence. Tell her I agreed. Get the time and the place for this meeting and when we arrive, I will scan his thoughts. It will take me a matter of minutes to establish he was at the meeting at the behest of Rodja Tirstone, or someone else connected to Marla. Once we have proof, I will call in the Sorcerers’ Collective Guard. You will testify that she set the meeting up, and there you have it. All the evidence we need to prove the High Prince’s sister is a traitor to Hythria. Marla tied up in knots, using the very noose she set to hang me. There’s a rather delicious irony in that, don’t you think?
“I think you’re insane, actually.”
“It is insane,” Alija agreed. “Which is why this will work. Tell me one thing, though. Why did you bring this plan to me? You could have taken Marla’s side. She’s wealthier than a god. And I know you think she’s beautiful. Why not just fall in with her plans and reap the rewards? It’s not as if you love me, Galon.”
The assassin rose to his feet and walked to her. With heartbreaking tenderness, he took her hands in his, a gesture she knew was designed to ease her fears. “Alija, I swear to you, my feelings for you have never changed since we first met. Nothing Marla Wolfblade has said or ever will say is going to alter that.”
Even if she hadn’t known for certain he was telling the truth because of their physical contact, his demeanour was so intense, she would have believed him. Still holding her hands, he kissed her, this time on the mouth. And then he let her go. “I can’t stay much longer. I have to report my progress to my co-conspirators.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
“I will.” He let her go reluctantly and then turned and headed for the door.
“One other thing,” she called after him.
“Yes?”
“I want you to find out who ordered the kill on Tarkyn Lye.”
Galon hesitated before he answered. “You want me to break my oath to the guild by giving you the name of a client?”
Significantly, he didn’t sound surprised to learn Tarkyn was dead. That, in itself, told Alija a great deal. “Yes. I do.”
“I can’t”
“But you do know who ordered it, don’t you?”
He nodded reluctantly. “And I really can’t tell you who it was, Alija. Much as I’d like to.”
“Then tell me this much. Did Tarkyn’s death affect your decision to remain loyal to me?”
“In more ways than I can ever explain,” he replied with total conviction.
Alija crossed her arms with a look of satisfaction. He
knows it was Marla who ordered Tarkyn killed. And clearly, the notion disturbs him.
knows it was Marla who ordered Tarkyn killed. And clearly, the notion disturbs him.
It seemed odd for an assassin to be unsettled about the idea of a woman hiring the Assassins’ Guild to remove an enemy. Perhaps it was because this wasn’t just any woman. This was the High Prince’s sister. No guild wanted to become the private army of a despot, so they determinedly stayed out of politics. Just as the Assassins’ Guild refrained from taking jobs that might affect the succession, they were, historically, just as reluctant to accept commissions from those in positions of ultimate power. Learning Marla Wolfblade had hired his guild to take care of an enemy—even if it was only a slave—would have had ramifications even the princess hadn’t considered.
“I’ll see you again soon?”
“As soon as I can arrange it,” he promised, and then he was gone, leaving Alija alone, the faint taste of his kiss still lingering on her lips. She revelled in the sensation and then called for Tressa.
“My lady?”
“Send a message to the Sorcerers’ Palace,” she ordered, thinking that even if it took an inordinate amount of double dealing to bring Marla Wolfblade down, Wrayan Lightfinger was much more easily dealt with. “I’ve just heard there is a notorious thief in the city looting the houses of the dead. I need to speak to the Captain of the Guard.”
T
he second time Galon Miar came through her window, Marla was expecting him. She was sitting at her dressing table, fully dressed this time, brushing out her hair. It didn’t need brushing, but it gave her something to do with her hands while she waited.
he second time Galon Miar came through her window, Marla was expecting him. She was sitting at her dressing table, fully dressed this time, brushing out her hair. It didn’t need brushing, but it gave her something to do with her hands while she waited.
As soon as she heard the window open, she looked up and watched him in the mirror, climbing through her window. He turned and closed it carefully behind him before acknowledging her presence.
“Your highness.”
“Do you have some sort of problem with using a door, Galon?”
“How come you never call the guards when I sneak through your window? By the way, you’re starting to make a habit of that,” he said, walking up behind her.
“Not calling the guards?”
“Calling me by my first name.”
She turned to face him directly. “That’s only because I’m too much of a lady to call you a lowlife gutter-scum to your face. You’ve been to see Alija, I take it?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And how did she take the news all her dreams are about to come true?”
“Pretty much how you’d expect her to take it. She wanted to know if I was sleeping with you.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Not yet.”
Marla couldn’t help herself. She laughed out loud. “You’re an optimist, Galon. I’ll grant you that much.”
“You will accept my offer eventually, your highness. Remember, there’s still the issue of your agreement with the Assassins’ Guild to take care of.”
“I could walk down to the Slave Quarter and find some abandoned child on the street tonight, legally adopt him tomorrow and then hand him over to the Assassins’ Guild the day after, Galon. Your plan isn’t nearly so clever as you think it is.”
“Don’t get too excited about
your
clever little plan to circumvent guild law, your highness,” he warned. “I’m the one responsible for deciding when you’ve fulfilled your obligation to the guild. Trust me, you could adopt every homeless child in Greenharbour and it won’t be good enough for me.”
your
clever little plan to circumvent guild law, your highness,” he warned. “I’m the one responsible for deciding when you’ve fulfilled your obligation to the guild. Trust me, you could adopt every homeless child in Greenharbour and it won’t be good enough for me.”
“So now you’re
telling
me which child it has to be? And conveniently it’s one
you
fathered?” She shook her head. “It would seem in the matter of honour, you really are your father’s son.”
telling
me which child it has to be? And conveniently it’s one
you
fathered?” She shook her head. “It would seem in the matter of honour, you really are your father’s son.”
The insult didn’t seem to faze him. “Actually, I’m not my father’s son at all. My
real
father was another slave, a
court’esa
. My mother told Ronan Dell I was his son to protect me from him. Pretty smart move for a terrified thirteen-year-old girl, when you think about it. It saved her any further suffering at his hands and it had the added bonus of setting me free. A slave’s bastard grows up to be a slave, you know. But a highborn bastard … that’s a whole different pile of horse dung. Highborn bastards are looked after. Fed. Clothed. Well educated. Almost treated like real people. I was probably the only child to ever walk the halls of Ronan Dell’s palace without fear.”
real
father was another slave, a
court’esa
. My mother told Ronan Dell I was his son to protect me from him. Pretty smart move for a terrified thirteen-year-old girl, when you think about it. It saved her any further suffering at his hands and it had the added bonus of setting me free. A slave’s bastard grows up to be a slave, you know. But a highborn bastard … that’s a whole different pile of horse dung. Highborn bastards are looked after. Fed. Clothed. Well educated. Almost treated like real people. I was probably the only child to ever walk the halls of Ronan Dell’s palace without fear.”
“I was told your mother died giving birth.”
“She did. But my father lived to the ripe old age of thirty-six,” he replied. “He was a linguist. A damn good one, too. Ronan Dell’s wealth came from precious metals. His family had mines all over Hythria and interests in more than a few other countries, as well. He did a lot of business with the Fardohnyans and even the Medalonians and Kariens so he kept my father around as an interpreter. Until Alija Eaglespike sent her henchmen through Ronan Dell’s palace on a killing spree, that is. I found him out in the courtyard, you know. He’d just been sitting there in the sun, reading a book, when some Dregian thug sneaked up on him and cleaved his head in two from behind.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He shrugged. “No reason you should. And I’m not telling you this to get your sympathy. I mention it only so you don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m anything like that monster you mistakenly believe gave me life. The massacre at Ronan Dell’s palace took place over twenty-five years ago. I’ve pretty much come to terms with it.”
“Yet you want me to believe you’re still burning with the need for vengeance?”
“I’m burning with a need, your highness,” he agreed, squatting down in front of her to brush the hair gently from her face. “But right now, it’s not vengeance.”
She ignored his unsubtle hint and pushed his hand away impatiently. “On consideration, your guild’s vengeance for reneging on an agreement might be slightly less harrowing than the reaction of my children, were I to tell them my next husband was going to be an assassin.”
Galon smiled and stood up again. “So you
have
been considering my offer?”
have
been considering my offer?”
“Only when I feel the need for a bit of light entertainment.”
“But you
are
considering it,” he pointed out. He was awfully close. Perhaps because he knew how much it unsettled her. “That’s a step in the right direction.”
are
considering it,” he pointed out. He was awfully close. Perhaps because he knew how much it unsettled her. “That’s a step in the right direction.”
“You’ve met my stepson, Rodja, and my daughter, Kalan, but you’ve never met my other sons, have you?”
“I’ve seen your eldest son around town on occasion. He likes the taverns, I hear. And the races.”
“Don’t be fooled by his affable manner. Damin could take down a grown man by the time he was twelve.”
The assassin seemed rather amused. “Are you trying to scare me, Marla?”
“I just mention it in passing.”
“You’re not threatening to set your boys on to me, then?”
“The Wolfblades are a
ruling
family, Galon. By definition that means we delegate.” She rose to her feet and walked across to the window, throwing it open. She took a deep breath of the damp night air, hoping the faint breeze would cool her clammy skin, and then turned to look at him. “People like
us
hire people like
you
to do our dirty work.”
ruling
family, Galon. By definition that means we delegate.” She rose to her feet and walked across to the window, throwing it open. She took a deep breath of the damp night air, hoping the faint breeze would cool her clammy skin, and then turned to look at him. “People like
us
hire people like
you
to do our dirty work.”
He looked at her oddly. “People like
us?”
us?”
Marla looked down her nose at him. “Feel free to leave the same way you came in, Galon. I’m actually starting to think rather fondly of this window as the tradesmen’s entrance.”
He crossed the room to the window and looked out over the rooftops of the palace. Marla was a tiny bit disappointed. She thought he’d put up more of a fight before she tossed him out.
Finally he turned to look at her. “So, tell me, your highness, do people like
you
ever spare a thought to what your lifestyle costs people like me?”
you
ever spare a thought to what your lifestyle costs people like me?”
Marla rolled her eyes. “Oh, gods, spare me! Just when I thought I had you all figured out, it turns out that at heart you’re really a noble champion of social justice.”
He smiled at the very suggestion. “Not me, your highness. I want
in
to your world. I’m not interested in tearing it down.”
in
to your world. I’m not interested in tearing it down.”
“Here’s a little tip, then, Galon,” she told him softly, reaching up to pat his face like a mother chastising a spoilt child. “Learn to use the door.”
He caught her wrist and held it fast. No longer in charge of this dangerous exchange, Marla struggled to free it. “Let me
go
!”
go
!”
“Here’s a tip for
you,
your highness,” he breathed, pulling her to him. “People like me don’t pay a whole lot of attention to people like you when they’re behaving like spoilt, condescending little bitches.”
you,
your highness,” he breathed, pulling her to him. “People like me don’t pay a whole lot of attention to people like you when they’re behaving like spoilt, condescending little bitches.”
“Get your hands off me!”
“Or you’ll scream?” he asked, pushing her back against the curtains. “You threaten that a lot, your highness, but you never seem to actually do it.”
“I’m warning you …”
“And now I’m
really
scared, because when people like you warn people like me, we’d better pay attention, hadn’t we?”
really
scared, because when people like you warn people like me, we’d better pay attention, hadn’t we?”
“Stop saying that!” she ordered. “You’re completely misinterpreting what I meant.”
“I’m pretty sure I know what you mean, Marla Wolfblade, which begs a rather interesting question.” He held her against the curtains, her wrist held fast, his body pressed against hers. “What does it take, I wonder, for people like me to make people like you scream anyway?”
Bereft of her senses, let alone a comprehensible answer, Marla turned her face away, but all it did was give him unhindered access to the hypersensitive skin just below her ear. His lips trailed fire down her neck, deliberately tormenting, torturously delightful.
“Stop it,” she commanded without conviction.
“Stop what?” he asked, as his lips burned their way across her throat. “This?” He waited and when she didn’t answer, he added with a wicked little smile. “Or this?”
“Galon …” she breathed helplessly.
Her whispered call was all he seemed to be waiting for. He kissed her then, and Marla forgot everything. Galon let go of her wrist and pulled her closer. Marla gripped the curtain and let him, wishing there was some way to make this feeling last forever. This was raw animal lust, pure and simple—the
court’esa
-trained part of her knew that. That didn’t make the experience any less intense. If anything, it sharpened the need, the hunger. This wasn’t logical, or sensible, she knew. It was something that only happened on that rare occasion when two people, against all logic and common sense, wanted each other so badly they were prepared to throw caution to the wind and give in to that part of them they normally kept hidden in the darkest recesses of their souls.
court’esa
-trained part of her knew that. That didn’t make the experience any less intense. If anything, it sharpened the need, the hunger. This wasn’t logical, or sensible, she knew. It was something that only happened on that rare occasion when two people, against all logic and common sense, wanted each other so badly they were prepared to throw caution to the wind and give in to that part of them they normally kept hidden in the darkest recesses of their souls.
When she was younger she might have called it love, but she was older now and far more cynical.
The savagery of her desire shocked Marla a little. She barely noticed when the curtains came crashing down as Galon lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, didn’t hear the table fall or the vase by the bed shatter to the floor as they bumped it on their way past. Marla was lost completely to her hunger, his touch, oblivious to anything else but her desire …
Until Galon cried out in pain and suddenly slumped on top of her on the bed and Marla looked up to discover her guards standing over them, one of them wiping the blood from the blade he had just used to run Galon Miar through.
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