by Carol A Park
Heilyn sank down into his chair as the company passed by, headed for the empty seats.
Ivana tried to catch Heilyn’s eye, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes followed Gildas until the party sat, and then they darted around the room.
She knew that look. Panic. Desperation. She had seen it on the faces of targets that were coherent enough to realize they were about to die.
Ri Talesin waited until the party was settled and then began his introductions. “I am so pleased to introduce to all of you Da Aphria and her daughter Da Lavena, of Ferehar.” He beamed at the son sitting closest to him, no doubt the eldest. “I am even more pleased to publically announce for the first time that Da Lavena and my eldest son have recently become engaged.
“I wish them happiness, and of course, look forward to the many years of friendship to come from this alliance between Weylyn and Ferehar.”
And many years of even more wealth, no doubt—as if the nobles in Weylyn or Ferehar needed more of that.
But what was the connection to Gildas? He was surely there because he had heard of Heilyn’s presence, but he wouldn’t have attached himself to the party for no reason. Was he connected to the noble house these women came from? Where was Aleena when she needed her?
Thankfully, the Ri was happy to elaborate. He turned to Gildas. “I would be remiss if I neglected to mention another honored guest, my good friend Ri Gildas of Ferehar. Gildas had graciously agreed to perform the marriage ceremony in his Conclave role three months hence, and was eager to be present for our announcement.” He nodded to Gildas.
Gildas nodded his head. “It is indeed my pleasure to be present on such a joyous occasion,” he said, all manners and grace. His gaze drifted around the table, meeting the eyes of many of those there with a smile and a nod. And though Heilyn was still staring at him as though he had been spawned from the abyss, Gildas’ eyes drifted over him without a flicker of recognition.
That was…interesting.
Why did Gildas not call him out?
Gildas continued his speech. “It always warms my heart to see children mature to this stage of life; it reminds me of how much I still mourn that I have two less weddings to preside over in my own family.” He infused his voice with a hint of grief, and it had the desired effect on the company, who all murmured in sympathy.
Ivana frowned. Two less weddings? She searched her mind for the details that would make sense of that statement and then remembered that two of Gildas’ four sons were dead.
“Please make our guests welcome,” Talesin said, and then sat down and leaned over to whisper in his eldest’s ear.
His eldest suffered a brief smile, glanced at Lavena, who was too occupied with comparing her sparkling teardrop earrings with those of Talesin’s wife to notice her fiancé’s glance, and then looked away.
A solely political marriage, then. There was no love between those two.
The first course was served, and Heilyn looked as though he were going to be sick as a plate was placed in front of him. He repeatedly glanced toward the door, and it was clear he wanted out of this room. But he could hardly make an inconspicuous exit at present.
There was nothing to do but eat, which she was happy to do. Nobles didn’t skimp on their banquets, and the food was delicious.
On the other hand, Heilyn hardly touched his dinner. He picked at it and pushed it around his plate, until the man next to him leaned over and said something.
Vaughn gave him a tight smile and nodded.
When the final course had come and disappeared, Ri Talesin stood again. “It is also my honor to introduce two others to our company tonight. As you may know, we have with us two unlikely guests.” He spoke quickly, as though eager to dispense with the duty of recognizing them—though he had brought it upon himself.
“Dal Heilyn and Da Ivana? Would you stand for a moment?” The Ri turned his gaze in their general direction. He had made no attempt to contact them prior to now, but their seating location as well as their more common dress no doubt gave them away.
Ivana stood, ducking her head to feign embarrassment. Heilyn stood, stiff and unblinking.
“As many of you have heard, these two recently dispatched a bloodbane summoned to the middle of our capital. They call it luck, but I call it courage. I am pleased to award such courageous subjects living within my realm, and thus each will return home with a purse of fifteen hundred setans.”
A murmur went around the table, no doubt a mutual acknowledgement of the generosity of their host—a heavy purse for any commoner, indeed, but Ivana doubted it even put a dent in his own treasury.
The Ri motioned to his steward, standing nearby, and the man bowed and walked first to Ivana, handing her a heavy leather pouch without meeting her eyes, and then walking around the table to do the same for Heilyn.
There was a smattering of applause and then Gildas spoke up. “If I may, my friend?”
“Of course,” Talesin said.
“I would also like to extend my gratitude. While our Watchmen work hard to keep the borders of our cities safe, it is the bravery of such as these that mean we may all rest peacefully in our homes at night. I applaud you, honored citizens.”
It was a pretty speech for a monster as bad as any bloodbane, but Ivana curtsied and smiled all the same. Gildas didn’t give her a second glance.
However…
Gildas met Heilyn’s eyes and smiled, for all the world a grateful ruler. But Ivana didn’t miss the hardness in his eyes and the slight smugness of his lips. Still, he said nothing.
Heilyn glanced away almost immediately—toward the door again.
Ivana and Heilyn sat back down, and the Ri spoke again. “Just so, Ri Gildas, but it is you and your order who truly keep us safe.”
Gildas inclined his head once in acknowledgment, and muscles jumped in Heilyn’s jaw at that proclamation.
He hates him, she realized. That seemed an obvious conclusion in retrospect, but up until now, Ivana hadn’t put much thought into the relationship between the man she had to kill and the man she wished she could.
Well. It seemed she and Heilyn had something in common.
Conversation at the table resumed, and the formalities of the banquet thus discharged, Ri Talesin rose along with his wife and children, no doubt preparing to retire to their parlors to greet their guests, as proper hosts should. He was stopped, however, by Gildas, who also rose and then whispered in his ear.
Talesin frowned and cast his eyes around the room, and then nodded. He gestured to the chief of his guards, who stood nearby keeping watch, and in turn whispered in his ear. The guard bowed and left the room through a doorway in the back of the dining hall.
Was Gildas so polite that he wanted to catch his prey without disturbing Talesin’s banquet? Ivana found that hard to believe.
“If I may suggest we retire?” Talesin said above the general hum of the room, and a moment later chairs scraped against the hardwood as the entire table stood up, the women heading toward their parlor, and the men toward theirs.
Gildas followed the chief of the guards out the far door, while a good number of guests filtered out of the main door, not intending on staying past dinner. When the room was satisfactorily disordered, Ivana sidled up to Heilyn, who was attempting to slip out of the room unnoticed.
She hooked her arm in his and maneuvered them to the middle of a throng waiting to exit the hall. “Going somewhere, Dal?” she said into his ear.
“Gildas is here,” he said, eying the guards that had appeared at the far door and two parlor doors.
Curious. Why were there none at the main door?
“Indeed. Why would that be, I wonder?”
“I don’t know how he got here so fast. He must have been in the city. It’s the only explanation.” It was clear Heilyn was talking to himself, not her.
“You knew it was possible he could be here?” she asked, incredulous.
He cast her a nervous look. “He must have known the nam
e I gave Talesin. I need to get out of here,” he said, craning his neck to look behind him. “Where did he go?”
This was more than unfortunate. Her plan had always been to collect the reward, and, upon returning home, drug Heilyn and finish what she started.
Now, she had a dilemma. He wanted to leave now, for obvious reasons. She had no way to keep him here, couldn’t kill him here, and she could hardly go with him. If ever there was a way to draw suspicion upon herself, it would be to flee right along with the Banebringer.
She again had to choose the path with the least immediate consequence, and that meant she had to let him go and attempt to find him again later.
She gritted her teeth in frustration. She knew she should have killed him in the woods and blamed it on a bloodbane.
The crowd finally started to move, and as they were swept out the dining room door themselves she saw what had caused the delay leaving the dining hall. Guards blocked the front doors, keeping guests from departing. Those who hadn’t gone to the parlors were milling about the great hall, some clearly annoyed, many too drunk to care. Gildas was standing near the entrance, dispatching guards to block the rest of the exits to the hall.
Gildas glanced their way, and his eyes immediately roved a different direction, as though it were happenstance that they landed on them in the first place.
It wasn’t happenstance. He knew exactly where Heilyn was and wasn’t about to lose track of him.
Heilyn saw it too. “Damn,” he whispered.
This presented another problem. She could, under no circumstances, let Ri Gildas get his hands on Heilyn. Heilyn had mentioned torture; what if the Conclave tried to get information out of him, such as the assassins he had tried to hire? For that matter, what if Heilyn tried to use the information to his advantage, as a stalling or even bargaining tactic once caught?
If he couldn’t die at her hands, then she needed to see him safely out of anyone else’s until then.
“Talesin’s safe room has a back door,” she said. “That would be one option for escape, though I don’t know where the passage will put you out. I didn’t have time to explore that far.”
He turned to her as if seeing her for the first time. “Why are you helping me?”
“Only long enough to get you free from here so that I can deal with you on my own terms, I assure you.” She let go of his arm. “Go, before it’s too late.”
He didn’t argue. She turned away from him and started walking toward a nearby powder room, as if aiming to refresh herself. The next time she glanced back, he was gone.
There was something off about this. Ri Gildas had had opportunity after opportunity to identify and arrest Heilyn, yet he had passed on them all.
Ivana touched the sleeve of a passing guard. “If I might ask, Dal,” she said, widening her eyes and allowing the slightest tremor to enter her voice, “what is happening?”
The guard hesitated and then nodded toward Gildas. “Ri Gildas has reason to believe there might be an assassin about. Kind of him to take Ri Talesin’s safety to heart while here, given that it’s not his duty.”
Ivana blinked, taken aback. An assassin? Not a Banebringer? She glanced at Gildas, mind racing. What was his game?
Ivana started acting in earnest. “An assassin…!” She placed a hand on her chest. “Blessed Rhianah.”
The guard kept talking. “We’re keeping the guests from leaving, trying to account for everyone.”
Ivana sank against the wall and fanned at her face. “I…this is terribly unsettling.”
The guard gave her a sympathetic look. “Begging your pardon, Da. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“No, no, not your fault…” She waved him away, and he bowed and left.
The feeling that this didn’t sit right was growing, and it wasn’t because she loathed Gildas. Why wouldn’t he simply declare what he knew to be true? He was a Hunter; if he knew a Banebringer were there, he would be within his rights to do whatever necessary to catch him or her, even if it caused half the company to grumble. He didn’t need this subterfuge to see his son Sedated—or dead.
And then it hit her. Dead. Of course.
Having been presented with a live son of Ri Gildas, she had, of course, never considered that Heilyn was one of the sons that was presumed dead, but rather had assumed that the two dead sons were two other sons.
Ri Gildas—Heilyn’s father—must have declared Heilyn dead, probably to hide the fact that he was a Banebringer to preserve his own reputation. Which meant no one knew, which in turn meant he couldn’t make a public display of it, lest, having nothing more to lose, Heilyn use it against him.
So instead, he needed a reason to keep guests contained so he could find Heilyn on his own terms.
Her first reaction was relief. So he didn’t actually suspect an assassin was about.
And then she realized he had arranged everything here to allow himself the opportunity to confront Heilyn alone.
All the guards had been dispatched to guard either Ri Talesin, which was unnecessary, or exits from the great hall. Unfortunately, the exit to the basement was now conspicuously sparse on guards.
She turned back to the entrance. Gildas was gone.
Chapter Ten
The Second-Worst Disaster
Vaughn tried not to run. Though there was a good chance his father had been watching him when he disappeared, he knew the only advantage he had by way of stealth was invisibility; in every other way, he might as well have been a bloodgiant hurling boulders at unfortunate travelers, for all the stealth he held in his body.
Actually, bloodgiants might be more stealthy. At least travelers were usually unaware of their presence until rocks began raining down on their heads.
And it was night, and the moon was nearing full. That meant his invisibility, while still useful, was not always complete. A keen observer might notice a shimmer in the air, or even see a flash or blur.
And Hunters, of all people, were keen observers.
So his heart was pounding as he slid past servants and guards on his way to the nearest staircase down, hoping no one would hear his footsteps or notice the sigh of air caused by his passing.
If anyone did, no one turned to look.
It took him more time than he wanted to find the safe room—the footprint of Ri Talesin’s basement was as large as the manor itself, and even with his especially perceptive night vision, Vaughn almost missed the metal door hidden behind rows of barrels and crates stacked in the cellar.
The door was, of course, heavy, and the hinges were rusty from disuse. About half of the way open, it started to shriek in protest. He immediately stopped, but the sound it had made resounded as loudly in his ears as the bloodgiant’s boulders against the ground; he was certain the entire company upstairs heard it.
Vaughn started to breathe a bit easier when he heard no immediate pursuit.
He could make out the outline of another door in the back of the room; the back door Sweetblade had mentioned.
He was about to slip through the partially opened door and into the room, when he sensed a change in the amount of light available to him, and shadows began dancing on the wall behind him.
“Now, Teyrnon. How impolite of you to leave so suddenly. Not even a greeting for your dear old father?”
Damn.
He turned to face his father. He hadn’t pulled out the syringe with the hideous concoction that would make him permanently comatose, nor his hand crossbow. He was, however, staring vaguely in Vaughn’s direction—no doubt because he had seen the door open of its own accord.
A lot of good his invisibility did when Gildas was blocking the only other way out—the door he had come through. With the maze of crates and barrels in the cellar, it would be dangerous to get close enough to try and slip by him. But his other option was to back into the impenetrable metal box behind him and hope he could fling the back door—certainly as heavy as the other—open fast enough to flee.
He didn’t li
ke the choices available to him. He was a fool to have come here. He should have run in the woods and taken his chances with Sweetblade.
Of course, he had more than invisibility at his disposal; but he used his other power so rarely that he often forgot he even had it. And was there even any water in the cellar for him to use?
He inched backwards until he stepped fully into the darkness behind him.
Gildas moved closer. “You’ve been busy, I hear,” he said. “I hope you’ve realized by now the futility of your attempts to circumvent justice.”
Justice. Right. He fought the bitterness that rose in his throat, trying to concentrate on the situation at hand, rather than Gildas’ words. He stepped backwards until he reached the other door, not daring to turn his back on Gildas, and felt for the handle.
If only he had his bow. It would be so easy…
Forget it. He knew he wouldn’t do it. He had had the chance to kill Gildas a half dozen times over the past few years, and he had never been able to bring himself to do it. No matter how many monsters he had slain—when it came to his father, he was a coward.
Now Gildas was standing near the doorway of the saferoom, lifting his arm to let his lantern shed light on the dark room. “Why don’t you show yourself? Are you such a coward that even in the face of the inevitable, still you hide?”
The verbalization of his own thoughts stung. He wanted to retort, if only to speak a denial, lest his silence make it true, but he bit it back. His father always managed to get him to speak. Not this time. He tugged as hard as he could on the back door to the safe room.
It didn’t budge.
Panic shot through him. What…?
He turned around and pulled harder, but it was stuck fast. Behind him, the other door screeched again.
Vaughn swallowed and glanced desperately at the only other way out of the room, which Gildas now fully blocked with his large frame.
Gildas stepped into the room. “You’re a damned nuisance, Teyrnon, just like you’ve always been. I’m tired of it. It’s time to dig this splinter out of my finger.”