Grace of the Goddess (The Death Dealer Book 3) (15 page)

Eleven

              Jack took to his new role with relish. It surprised even him that he was prepared to spend his days listening to citizens’ grievances, sign warrants for the guards, and debate everyday matters with the other four who served with him. He could have done without his father standing by watching his every move, though.

              He also didn’t like the chief magistrate, Lord Gregory, who was obviously a bought man. He never made a decision without first whispering it over with Robert of Escion, who served as the king’s mouthpiece while he was away. And whatever Gregory did, his patsy Lord Vincent did.

              Lord Marvin and Lord Philip always voted against them, which led Jack to believe that the king never bothered to approach either one in order to buy their votes. They looked at Jack as though he was a roach that needed to be squished. They knew where he stood, and he was uncomfortable not knowing where they stood. All of the magistrates were aware that Robert lurked around Glenbard because he planned to request the city’s cooperation with his soldiers. Marvin and Philip turned their noses up at the duke, and glared at Jack simply for being his son.

              Still, Jack happily served the city. He was given an allowance to pay for food and his servants. Since he kept no servants, he handed all his coin to Ridley, who used it to buy extra food for those on the Lane in need.

              Jack sat in his library with Ridley as the noon bell rang, looking over some documents Lord Marvin of Queen's Cove had sent to him. Most dealt with how to handle new city taxes, but a few were about the bad harvest and how to fairly distribute the grain and oil from the emergency stores. All were going to be brought up soon at the monthly council meeting, as well as Robert’s request to quarter his soldiers.

              Ridley sat across from Jack, bored out of her mind. Her fingers were healing well enough, but Marcus and Jack both felt she was safer under constant supervision. Her opinion differed slightly, but her protestations were largely ignored. So her time was spent with Jack during the day and Marcus at night.

              “Could we at least go for a stroll outside?” The day dawned bright and beautiful. The fall had proven to be wet and cold so far and a warm, sunny day lifted everyone’s spirits.

              Jack looked up from his documents. “I suppose so.”

              “I feel like a silly little child, having to ask permission to play outside.”

              “Would you rather Gillam break your fingers again? Because I can ring for him straight away.”

              Ridley huffed. “I don’t know what danger I would even be in anymore.”

              “Neither do I, but these are dangerous times and you are connected to me. So let’s go through the gardens before I change my mind.”

              The two had freedom to move about the castle grounds, but Jack was restricted to stay inside its walls. If he desired or needed to leave for any reason, Gillam was to accompany him. Jack had no qualms with his father’s manservant. Gillam was big and dumb and loyal to whomever fed him, but Ridley steadfastly refused to go anywhere with him and Jack didn’t blame her. Her fingers were a blue, purple, and black mess thanks to Gillam. Still, he would have liked to get his own food in the market once in a while.

              The garden was pristine. Trees were pruned, the grass was trimmed, and there was a certain reverence for the spot where Brayden fell. Jack and Ridley steered clear and walked on the other side of the garden with her arm looped through his. Ridley liked to pretend at being a fine lady, her dirty dress aside, and Jack obliged.

              “Any word on Thom?” Jack asked as they walked by two of the castle guards. The guards dipped their heads to Jack and said nothing.

              “No.”

              “Marcus was a fool to send him away. Hungry winters are never a good time in cities. There is a lot of unrest.”

              “And Thom is going by land. He probably would have made it to Arganis by ship already, but he fears the sea. I think his father died in a shipwreck off the coast.”

              “So he wastes time, when he of all people should know better. All because Marcus doesn’t trust Grace.”

              Ridley didn’t say anything in response, but after a few minutes passed without an exchange, she spoke again. “I have been talking at length with Captain Moore.” Jack raised an eyebrow at her. “It is now my job to deliver the bribes when one of the Guild is caught by his men. He told me the Guild coin goes to buying food and clothes for widows and their children, who are in for a hard winter. He never thinks maybe we could be using the silver to buy for our own. I suppose it doesn’t matter to him.”

              “Mmmm,” Jack mused. “In our council meeting, Lord Philip plans to petition the king for an open trade channel with our so-called ‘enemies.’ I think he’s a fool for even trying, and as such he runs the risk of being labeled a traitor.”

              “For wanting to bring in good grain from those who had a bountiful year? How is it treason to want to feed the people of your country?” Ridley’s temper flared.

              Jack remembered when she was still a silly girl who bragged secrets she knew and danced with any young buck who asked. He didn’t like how hardened she’d become recently. He had always been hard on her because of her naivety, but he missed it now. He missed her easy laugh and sassy mouth.

              “It is treason to look at the king cross-eyed if he says so. The fact of the matter is that he means to make war with Sera, and taking food from them in our hour of need would mean showing our weakness. I don’t think he is even convinced that there
are
any problems. I can see my ribs clearly through my skin, but Cesernan is not going hungry, he claims.” He rolled his eyes.

              One of the guards cleared his throat. Jack looked at him and received a solid glare.

              “Are you not concerned that your words could be construed as treason?” Ridley asked, eyeing the guard as well.

              Jack shrugged. “I am a loyal servant, but a confused servant,” he said to the guard. “And I have been at the wine again.” The guard huffed and looked away.

              Ridley frowned but kept quiet. They continued to walk around the castle, although they never made a full circle. Ridley would stop them short of Brayden’s death spot and walk them back around. They stayed out until the sun began to sink beyond the horizon.

              Jack took Ridley to the front gate where Marcus waited with three of his thieves, and Jack bid them all farewell. He returned to his work, lighting the candles in his library and continuing to read the documents.

              His peace and solitude was soon interrupted by Robert. His father looked like an angry bear with a thorn in his paw. If Jack could warrant a guess, he’d say
he
was the thorn. The duke burst into the library and kicked over the chair Ridley sat in when she was with Jack.

              “If you wanted my attention, Father, you have certainly succeeded in getting it. May I help you?”

              “Do not play innocent with me! The guards heard you spreading lies about the king; that he feasts while his people starve; that he is a blood thirsty fool!” Robert roared.

              “I said no such things. I said he meant to make war and didn’t acknowledge the hunger that is sweeping through his country.”

              “How is
that
any better?” His father narrowed his eyes; for all the world looking like he had just sucked on a lemon.

              “What the guards told you is a lie about His Majesty. I don’t think he sits gorging himself, and I don’t think he is blood thirsty. I think he means to make war and is so single-minded he is ignoring a serious problem. My opinion stands, and you can kick over as many damn chairs as you like about it.”

              “Do you realize how dangerous that talk is?”

              “Of course, and I also know if I vocalized everything I was thinking, my head would be on the chopping block. You robbed me of my freedom and shackled me to a title I don’t really want, but I will keep some of my opinions, thank you very much.”

              Robert looked as if he was considering his son’s words. It was rare to see the duke think about anything that didn’t involve obeying his king, cheating on his wife, or breeding his hounds. Jack ducked his head down to hide his smile as his father’s head crinkled in thought.

              “I will refrain from telling His Majesty of your loose tongue, but I warn you, I will not let it pass again. Next time you speak ill of him, I will send a messenger hawk to him straight away. He is conducting business near Arganis. Perhaps I will suggest he stop and pay Miss Hilren a visit.”

              Jack’s smirk faded and his head snapped up to see a happy malice playing in his father’s eyes. “Ah, yes, there
is
something that will keep you civil. Do as you are told like a good little boy, and once you have voted in my favor, you can run north and be with your little witch. Don’t think you are fooling me into thinking that thief is your lover. I know you have been writing to Grace Hilren for months.”

              “Grace is not a player in your game of power!”

              “No, but unlike your thief friends, Grace will not see an attack coming. She provides some leverage over you, and with your tongue wagging as it is, a little bit of leverage never hurts.”

              Jack tapped his fingers on his desk. He should have known his father was watching him even before he revealed himself. Jack and Grace never hid their love for each other, and until now Jack didn’t see any reason to. However, he would not suffer any hurt to come to her because of him.

              “What exactly do you want? I want to make sure I do not cross any lines.”

              “Such a good lad,” Robert taunted. “Send a message to your thief friend. Tell her not to bother you anymore. Keep to yourself. If you are looking for companionship, Gillam can spend the days with you. After you have voted in my favor at the council meeting, you can resign quietly. I will even pay for your journey to Arganis. And from now on, keep your opinions to yourself.”

              “I will do it – all of it – but I want to choose my messenger.”

~*~*~

              Ridley poked at the bland porridge Ginger made. She wrinkled her nose, but ate it. “You know,” she said as she and Marcus ate, “they have fresh fruit and vegetables at the castle.”

              “Then ask Jack if you can live there, because
here
we eat what can be afforded,” Marcus responded tersely.

              There were a number of thieves in the house eating supper with them and those in the kitchen laughed, earning a sneer from Ridley. In better times she might have flung the gruel at them, but every bite was precious. She continued to eat in annoyed silence instead.

              “Majesty?” a tall, lanky woman with greasy red hair said. She stood by the kitchen window and looked intently outside.

              “Yes, Clara?” Marcus put his bowl of gruel down to give her his attention.

              “Captain Moore is comin' up the road. Looks like 'e's got some purpose. 'E’s struttin' up 'ere like 'e owns the Lane.”

              Marcus was quickly up and out of his seat to investigate Clara’s claim, and Ridley joined him at the window.

              Nathaniel came alone and outside of his captain’s uniform, but Ridley knew he wasn’t coming to her home for a social call. Ridley had to admit he was a brave man to walk at dusk in the Lane without fellow guards to attend him. She entertained the idea of running around the house, jumping him, and giving him a tap on the head to teach him to be afraid, but she refrained. She begrudgingly dealt with the other guard captains, like the insufferable Captain Ericson, who stalked after her and made threats behind her back, but Moore always treated her civil enough when she delivered bribes and picked up the incarcerated thieves.

              “Ridley, let us go see what the good captain wants.” Marcus crossed the kitchen and grabbed their coats where they hung by the door. “The rest of you scout the area to make sure he hasn’t brought anyone with him.”

              The assembled men and women did as their king said, heading towards several hidden exits around the house. The thieves would sneak out of them and spread out through the alleys, sweeping for any spies Nathaniel might have placed around to watch Marcus. Ridley had caught spies in the past. Generally, poor Lane children were used. They were either too young to know not to trust the guards, or else they were hungry enough to watch the King of Thieves for a few ha’pennies. Ridley usually gave them a copper or two and sent them back to the guardhouse with made-up stories. She hoped the thieves filtering into the streets now were as kind to any little spies they found.

              Marcus helped Ridley into her coat and then put his own on. They left through the front door, catching up to Nathaniel as he came up their walk.

              “To what do I owe this unexpected visit, Captain?” Marcus asked.

              “You? Nothing. I am merely here to deliver a message to Ridley.” The captain looked past Marcus to his adopted daughter.