The Grave Thief: Book Three of The Twilight Reign (10 page)

‘You are correct that my son is being kept in squalor at the palace,’ she said, ‘but his trial will either be a civil affair, in which case it will take place at the Temple of Law on Irienn Square, or if the Synod’s efforts to take over the trial prove successful, in a place yet to be designated - however, I do not believe that will happen. The man I will send to you tomorrow will bring the architectural plans for the Temple of Law, which is where I am sure my son will be transferred for the trial.’

‘So Duke Certinse is out the palace, but that doesn’t help us. You could send us a full company of hurscals and we’d still be outnumbered by the Ghosts guarding him. So I ask again: what is it you want?’

Kam saw her lip waver briefly, and she fought to compose herself.

‘What I want from you,’ she said in a carefully measured tone, ‘is whatever you can do to help. If there is a chance to break my son out, I will have men with horses waiting, and I will devote the remains of my fortune to helping you and your families. Whatever the outcome, my associate here will not be involved; he will return to Siul, where he will organise the troops to protect your villages. He will also pass on the promised payment.’

‘You can’t really believe there’s much chance of breaking your son out?’ Kam asked, and immediately regretted his words as the long-threatened tears finally spilled from the duchess’s eyes.

‘You have no need to remind me of that,’ she said after a moment, regaining her composure. ‘But you will permit me to hope against hope? It is all I have left now.’ She straightened up, but made no attempt to wipe the tears from her face. ‘There is another service you can do him, though.’

‘There is? ’ Kam looked blank, until he remembered the only public execution he’d ever seen. ‘Oh, yes, I see what you mean.’

‘It is what I want,’ the duchess said in a stiff voice. ‘That white-eye filth intends to execute my son as a traitor. The trial will be a sham, for the conclusion is already set. I do not know what manner of execution Lord Isak intends, but I am certain there is no depravity beneath him. To speak plainly, as you desire, I say this: I will do what I can for your families, if you will do the same for mine. If all I can give to my son is his dignity in death, then I would be glad to deny Lord Isak this final cruelty after the sacking of our home, the destruction of our family name and the death of my brother, among many other crimes.

‘I chose you precisely because you are not mercenaries or assassins. I do not expect anyone to get out of there alive, and that will be their mistake: they will not be expecting anyone to act without care of the consequences. I know you have no wish to die; I believe you to be good men, honourable men. And for the sake of your families I believe you will take this terrible risk and I say to you now, if you die failing, it will not affect the payment . . .’ Her voice tailed off.

Kam found himself holding his breath until she spoke again, this time with a resonance that struck at his heart.

‘You are the sort of men who will risk all for your families, and in this I do not believe we are so different. I will do whatever I can to provide a diversion. And if by my own death I can offer one of you the chance to survive to see their children again, I will willingly do so.’

‘They say you’re a mage, that you’ve made pacts with daemons, ’ Boren whispered, causing Kam to jump at the sound.

The duchess shook her head, sadness in her face rather than the anger Kam would have expected. ‘I have no such power, and those mages in our service are now dead. I do have something that may provide the necessary distraction, but I cannot be certain how well it will work, so it may be that revealing my identity is all that I can offer. Do not trust that it will do any more than turn heads for a moment.’

Kam looked at Boren, whose anger had clearly faded to nothing now, and stood.

‘I’ll have to discuss this with the others. When your man finds us tomorrow, you will have your answer.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice sounding hollow. ‘Once I would have said you will be in my prayers forever, but I have none of those left. You are my final prayer - I cannot stomach any more begging of Gods who have obviously never cared for me - but perhaps the Lady will look kindly upon you and grant you luck, for one day at least.’

Ashin Doranei thought hard about turning round in his seat and glaring at whoever was smoking that heavily spiced tobacco; it had been tickling the back of his throat for an hour or more and it was really starting to annoy him. After a few moments’ thought he decided against it - chances were he’d just fall off his stool if he tried anything so acrobatic.

Standing up first was an option, but if he had any money he wouldn’t have bet himself he’d be able to manage it.

Hah, don’t bet for money no more
, he said to himself,
got more fun stuff than that t’do
. He flapped weakly at his pockets for a moment. Somewhere he had a couple of wyvern claws, winnings from the last bet he’d made with his comrades.

‘So where’s the love of my life then?’ said a woman from the other side of the bar.

Doranei wavered a moment before adjusting his head enough to look her in the face.

Doranei let his head sink down again and tightened his grip on his drink.

With painstaking slowness a thought struck him and with great difficultly Doranei turned his head again, this time to look down the length of the bar.

Another tankard of beer slammed down on the bar top in front of him.

Ah
. Doranei’s battered face skewed into a lopsided grin as he reached for the tankard.
That’s why.

‘Still awake, there? Where’s your Brother then, m’lovely?’ The woman spoke slowly and precisely.

M’lovely. Gods I hated bein’ called that - that why I stopped shagging her?
A fitful burst of activity took place in Doranei’s memory.

Or was it ’cos I said she smelled like a mule an’ she kicked my balls up into my guts?
He nodded sagely and Janna snorted in irritation.

‘Still playin’ the mystery then? Fine, piss on you. Let’s see if you’re drunk enough for me to nick one of those posh cigars you’re smokin’ these days.’

Janna reached forward, a little hesitantly at first, until she was convinced Doranei wasn’t reacting at all, at which point she gave a toothy grin and slipped a practised hand inside his tunic to retrieve a silver cigar case. ‘Well ain’t that lovely,’ she said chattily. ‘It’s got a bee on it and everythin’—’ She stopped, the amusement suddenly falling from her face. ‘Gods, your boss give you this?’

Doranei stared down at the bar for a while, then tried to reach for his pocket. He got his hand in there on the second attempt.

Janna pulled out a cigar and set the case on the bar, lighting her plunder from a lamp and puffing hard until it was properly lit. Then she returned the case to Doranei’s pocket and set her elbows on the bar so her face was only a few inches from his.

‘Now then, m’lovely, where’s your boy Sebe? Next time you see ’im, tell ’im I’ve missed ’im and all ’is lovely scars. Gods, you should’ve ’eard me scream when I saw ’im bald as a fucking baby last week! Scary bloody baby, but never mind, I love ’im anyway. But I said to ’im, m’lovely, “I’ve got nothin’ to ’old onto”, I said, and you know ’ow much I like doin’ that!’ Janna gave a cackle that momentarily quietened the rest of the pub.

Janna. Girl’s got good punch on her
, Doranei though dreamily, lifting his beer and drinking automatically.
Poor Sebe, boy’s smitten. Mind you, good punch is somethin’ to respect, an’ that smile lights up th’ whole bloody room. She’ll be a terror once he gets the guts to marry her, but she’ll treat him right. Randy li’l fucker knows how to stay on her good side.

‘So what were the women in Scree like, eh?’ Janna continued in a conspiratorial voice, undeterred by the lack of response. ‘Lookers? Bet they’re an ugly lot, all black-haired Farlan bastard stock ain’t they?’

‘Women?’ said Doranei suddenly, as though only now waking from a dream.

‘Fuck me, it lives,’ Janna chuckled. ‘Now that’s an interesting thing, ’e don’t pay a blind bloody bit of notice until I bring up the subject of skirt!’

She reached out and patted his cheek. ‘Doranei, m’lovely, am I to think you’re finally past pining for me and ’ave got yourself a lady, or did you just meet a whore even better than me?’

Doranei took another swig of beer and let the words slowly settle into an order he could understand.

Women.

Pining.

Lady.

A vision of the three women he’d seen most often in Scree appeared in his mind: Haipar the shapeshifter, Legana, the Farlan assassin, and of course Princess Zhia Vukotic, vampire, and enemy of the Gods.

‘Bloody scary,’ he announced finally.

Janna laughed. ‘Fuck me, that ugly, eh?’

Doranei thought a little longer. Eventually he shook his head hard. ‘Not ugly, beautiful,’ he said once he’d regained his balance. He clutched the bar for support.

‘Why’s that scary, then, m’lovely?’

‘Too beautiful. Too dangerous. Too—’ His voice trailed off, his attention fixed upon the tankard before him.

‘Piss and daemons, you do ’ave it bad, don’t you? What’s ’er name, then?’

Doranei focused on Janna’s face. The same mess of tight brown curls, the same round face and beaming smile, a canine missing on the left side.

‘Secret.’

‘A secret? M’lovely, I’ve seen every bloody inch o’ you from more directions than I care t’remember; you’ve got nothin’ you need to ’ide from me.’

‘Can’t tell.’

Janna gave a snort of disappointment. ‘But she’s the reason you’re drinkin’ all alone? The reason you were ’ere last night too? Fuck me, m’lovely, thought you lot worked at night?’

‘Not th’only reason,’ Doranei muttered, a stubborn set to his jaw. Unbidden, his finger touched the small scar Zhia had left on his bottom lip, his only memento of her.

‘Not the only reason,’ she echoed, ‘aye well, I’ve ’eard stories about what ’appened there, so I can believe you.’ She took a long swig of his beer. ‘I’d be drinking brandy in your place if ’alf of what I ’eard went on there was true.’

‘All true.’ Doranei tugged the beer from her grip and drained it. ‘But we burned him. Can’t forget that. Long time comin’. I burned the bastard.’

‘Burned him?’ Janna whispered. ‘That’s a bit personal for you, ain’t it?’ She gave a soft gasp. ‘Blood in the Dark Place, was it ’oo I think it was? That scar-’anded bastard? You burned ’im?’

Doranei felt his face twitch at the suggestion, knowing only too well who she meant. The Light Fingers was a Brotherhood pub, a safe place for the agents of the king and the city criminals they were recruited from. Janna might be just a barmaid, but she was a sharp one, and she knew most of the Brotherhood. None outside the King’s Men knew the details, but it was impossible to hide the fact that Ilumene wasn’t one of them any longer.

Doranei’s face darkened and he shook his head slowly. ‘Not him, not yet. I—’

His sentence went unfinished as a hand thumped down on his shoulder. Janna gave a delighted cry and pushed her ample frame past Doranei’s face as she grabbed the newcomer and planted a fat kiss on his face.

‘There’s my beauty,’ Janna cried once she’d let Sebe up for air, ‘and there’s even a scrap of ’air on that ’ead too.’ She rubbed her hand over Sebe’s scalp, which sounded like sandpaper.

‘Whispering sweet nothings to my girl?’ said a voice in Doranei’s ear. He grabbed the bar for support and levered himself around. There was a face there, indistinct and wavering for some reason.

‘The fuck’re you?’ he muttered.

‘Bloody hell, not again. Janna, got anything to sober him up?’ said the blurred face. Doranei moved a little closer and it took on a little more detail.
Looks like a bloody monkey. Hah, Sebe looks like a monkey too.

‘I could kick ’im in the balls if you like,’ Janna said with a smirk, ‘woke the little bastard up a treat last time.’

Someone gripped Doranei’s face and turned it to the light. He growled and pulled back, lifting his tankard to his lips and trying to blow the few remaining bubbles of froth to the other side.

‘So what do you reckon, boyo, a quick kicking from my girl to wake you up?’

‘So what’s ’is story, m’lovely?’ Janna asked before Doranei could work out he was being spoken to. ‘Why’s ’e moping about over some woman? That’s not like ’im, not one bit.’

‘Long story,’ Sebe said coolly, ‘and not one that’s going to be told here either. He said anything about her to you?’

‘Nah, jus’ it’s a secret.’

‘It is, so if he’s so drunk he starts to chatter, you put him out. He’ll thank you in the morning.’

Doranei raised his head. ‘Not drunk.’

Something smacked into the side of his head and the bar fall sideways just before the floor hit him. He tried to take another drink, but his beer had disappeared and its loss seemed to drain his will.