“Disruptiveness, is it?” May said, “as I heard it, he quite disrupted your last bodyguard. Gregory, wasn’t it?”
The cool façade Grinner had been affecting changed then, and he frowned, anger dancing in his eyes. “Well, is he here or isn’t he?”
“Sadly no,” May said, “any words you have for Aaron, you must leave with me, and I’ll be sure that he gets them. He is away from the city, just now.”
The old man nodded, his mask of calm back in place once more, “Unfortunate,” he said, “but, then, I am a patient man.”
May was just about to speak to that veiled threat when the door opened again, and they all turned to see Hale making his way into the club, a casual smile on his face. Hale was a big man with wide shoulders and a gut to match. He’d once been a street tough, one of the best, until, years ago, he’d decided that there wasn’t much point in taking orders from his boss when he could just kill him and take his place instead—which he had.
He was a big, brute of a man with knuckles the size of walnuts and ears that were little more than fleshy lumps on the side of his head. Looking at him, people would have thought him some dumb street tough with a mind capable of little more than finding new ways to cause pain. Unfortunately, they would have been wrong. “Well, hello there, my lovelies,” he said, glancing at the people gathered at the table as he made his way to a chair and sat, the wood creaking dangerously under him as he did. He leaned back, as casual as a man in his own house. “May,” he said, “woman, you don’t mind me sayin’ you’re lookin’ just about as lovely as ever.”
May smiled, “Hale,” she said, nodding her head, “thank you and thanks for coming.”
“Ah, well,” he said, in his loud, deep voice, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, lady bell, not the world.” He smiled at Grinner seated across from him, “Grinner. How’s things fare with you?”
Grinner was not grinning now, studying the man with hate in his eyes. “They go well enough, Hale. Yourself?”
“Ah, I get by,” the big man said, “I get by. And what about the big fucker behind you there?” He said, waving a meaty hand at Grinner’s bodyguard, “he your nurse maid, make sure you don’t trip and fall in your old age?”
Grinner’s eyes narrowed, about to say something, but May held up a hand and spoke before he could, “Gentlemen. I thank you both for coming. I know that it took a certain degree of trust to come, and I am thankful for it.”
“Ah, shit,” Hale said, shrugging his massive shoulders, “I didn’t have much else to do. Anyway, May, when I heard my good friend Grinner was gonna be here?” He smiled widely, “Well, how could I refuse an invitation such as that? Matter of fact, I brought a little welcome party along with me.” He leaned back in his chair, put two fingers in his mouth, and gave a loud, ear-splitting whistle, a smug smile on his face.
Nothing happened and, after a moment, he frowned, trying the whistle again. “I’m afraid,” May said, “that you could whistle until you were blue in the face, Hale. I don’t think your men will be coming just now.”
The smile on the big man’s face turned to a scowl as he glanced at May, “My men—”
“Are fine and well,” May said, “although, it is possible that a few of them might have a headache, come the morning. But, then,” she said, her own eyes narrowing, “that is a small price to pay for men that would bring violence to a truce meeting.”
The big man studied her for several seconds then abruptly he gave a loud, bellowing laugh and sat back. “My, but I do love me a strong woman. Still, you’ll have to forgive me for tryin’, lovely. I just couldn’t resist.”
May nodded, “I had expected as much. Thought it best to save you from yourself.”
“Just so,” the man said laughing, “Just so.”
“Why am I not surprised?” The older man, Grinner said. “I had expected as much from a thug like yourself, Hale.”
“Is that so?” May asked, “I wonder, Grinner, is that why you brought your own men? Oh, don’t look so surprised; you’ve been glancing at that door so much you’re liable to have a sore neck in the morning. Sadly, I’m afraid your men won’t be able to attend us either, for the time being. They are all quite … tied up.”
Hale bellowed another round of laughter in the air, and Grinner frowned—the man really did a lot of that for one with a name as he had—then snapped the fingers of one hand. “Malcolm,” he said.
The big man stationed behind him took a step forward, and May held up a finger. “Just a moment, Mal. That is what your mother calls you, isn’t it? Mal? A sweet lady, truly, though, if her food is as good as my men tell me, they’ll all come back fat and useless.”
The big man froze, his eyes going wide. “My mother—”
“Is well, young Malcolm,” May said, “and will remain so, I hope. What do you hope?”
The big man took a step back, his hands up in front of him, “Uh … yes ma’am, please don’t hurt my mother.”
May smiled, “Handsome and polite too. Your mother must be very proud,” she said, “and I wouldn’t worry, Malcolm. Your mother will be just fine. As,” she said, turning to study Grinner and Hale both, “will we all.”
The two crime lords stared at her for several seconds, stunned, and May smiled. Good. Stunned was good. Keep them off balance, keep them guessing. “My, but I love me a woman takes charge,” Hale said finally, “Surely, I do.”
“But … how?” Grinner said, “My men—”
“It wasn’t an easy thing,” May said, nodding, “had to rent out the whole street, in fact. I knew you’d both bring them along, hide them somewhere or another with instructions to come when you called or after a certain amount of time.”
“That,” Grinner said, scowling, “must have cost you greatly.”
May favored him with her best smile, “Not so great as you might think, Grinner. In fact, when they heard that you would both be coming, they damned near offered to pay me.”
The big man, Hale, gave a bark of laughter at that. “Alright, woman, alright. You’ve got us here, powerless. What is it you want?”
“Not powerless,” May said, “not you two. You both are many things but never that. That, after all, is why I brought you here. Now, I take it that you are aware of the situation regarding Belgarin?”
The two crime lords scowled at that. On whatever other things they might disagree, neither relished the idea of someone coming in and taking over, uprooting all of the long standing bribes and contracts they had with those in authority, threatening their business and their profits. “Aye,” Hale said, “I know of the bastard well enough. Fucker’s been taking over kingdoms left and right.”
“Yes,” Grinner said, “so he has. Still, I don’t see what that has to do with us, May.”
May smiled, leaning forward and studying the two men. “That’s alright, because I’ll tell you. Come on, gentlemen. Let’s have a talk.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
Aaron wasn’t able to get any sleep or rest, pacing back and forth in the small area of the cell, his nerves taut, the clink and rattle of his manacles a metallic measure of his anxiety. He didn’t know all of what was going on, but he knew enough, and that was what bothered him the most. Knowing there was a problem but being stuck in this cage, waiting for the men to come finish the job. They would come, that he was sure. He’d spent a lifetime dealing with criminals, understood pretty well the way their minds worked—when they worked at all, anyway. He knew that such men would decide the best thing would be for Aaron, Adina, and Leomin to end up dead. He’d lived around criminals all his life, and he knew them well enough to know that their solution to most any problem was murder. Man sleeps with your wife? Kill him. Man owes you money? Kill him. Man bumps you while walking in the street? Well, he knew enough to say that criminals were predictable.
He knew they were coming, but he didn’t know if he would be ready when they did. His head still hurt, his stomach too. Already, there was a big br
uise on his side where the captain had hit him. He was wondering, mostly, how many they’d send—two or three, he thought, no more than that. They’d be going up against an unarmed man, after all, one who had only recently gotten his ass beat pretty thoroughly. They most likely expected him to be curled up in a ball of pain, whimpering and praying that the world would forget about him, at least for a while. Truth was, without Co and the bond keeping back the worst of it, he probably would have been.
I don’t like this, Aaron, Co said, sitting around and waiting for them to come. There’s got to be something we can do.
We’ve done everything we can, firefly, he said, unless you think maybe you can magic that cell door open?
No.
Maybe give me the strength to break it off its hinges?
I’m not the Virtue of Strength, Co said.
Right, right. Well, maybe we can just have a heart to heart with the door, what do you think? Let it know how important it is, it opens up.
How you can make jokes at a time like this, while you’re waiting to die, I’m sure I don’t know.
Times like these are the best times for jokes, firefly. Besides, everybody’s always waiting to die; it’s the jokes and the laughter make the wait bearable.
The sound of footsteps came from the other end of the hall, and he froze, listening. Only one set—surprising but not unduly so. After all, they thought they’d be dealing with a severely wounded man. Still, he smiled, twisting his neck first one way then the other, trying to work what stiffness out of it that he could. He thought he was as ready as he would be, ready to pounce the moment the man opened the door, but he froze as he saw the figure walk into view holding a torch.
“Sergeant?” He said, surprised.
The older man nodded, “It is. I thought it was wrong, Aaron, what the captain did, so I spoke with the queen about it; she’s agreed to have a private audience with you.”
Aaron frowned, “With me? Not her sister?”
The older man shrugged, “I just follow orders. Besides,” he said, looking past Aaron into the cell where two covered forms lay on either side of the floor. “Might as well let the princess and your friend get some sleep.”
Aaron started to ask the man what in the name of the gods he was talking about but something told him to keep his mouth shut and go along, at least for now. “Yeah, well,” he said, “I guess you’re right. But,” he frowned, looking down the hall, “where are the other guards? Seemed to me, you all used just about the whole army to bring us down here the first time.”
The sergeant barked a laugh, louder and somehow more jarring than the laugh Aaron had heard him make before, “Yeah, well, most of the men are training or sleeping. I’ll tell you, your visit here has done this much—there’s men you could barely get off their asses long enough to watch the gates without falling asleep out there practicing with their blades now, convinced that Belgarin and his men are hiding out in the fields somewhere. Anyway, I thought it would be better to bring you to the queen without involving the captain—he’s not a big fan of yours, in case you hadn’t noticed. Besides, you couldn’t do too much, not with those manacles on your wrists and ankles, even if you did plan on causing me any trouble. You don’t, do you?”
Aaron frowned, studying the man, something troubling him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.
“Everything alright, Mr. Envelar?” The sergeant said, leaning in as if to see him better in the poor light.
“I’m fine,” Aaron said, pushing the feeling aside for the moment, “and no, sergeant, I won’t be any trouble.”
The older man nodded, running a hand over his salt and pepper beard, “That’s fine, that’s fine. Now, stand back, will ya?” He said, bringing the cell keys out of his pocket and winking, “I don’t want you getting any ideas.”
Aaron did as he was told, taking several steps back but remaining in front of the two recumbent forms lying in the shadows covered by the blankets the sergeant had brought earlier. The sergeant tried several keys on the ring in the door before finally finding the one he was looking for and opening it. “Damn things,” he said, shaking his head, “never can keep them straight.”
“Well,” Aaron said, following the man out into the hall and studying his back while he closed the door and latched it, “you’ve got a lot on your mind, I guess.”
“Don’t I just?” The sergeant said, finishing and tucking the keys back into his tunic. “Alright, this way.”
He led the way, and Aaron followed him up a flight of stairs and out of the dungeon, wincing as the sunlight coming in through the castle windows lanced into his eyes. Brandon nodded at the two guards stationed at the dungeon’s entrance and moved past without saying a word, Aaron in tow.
The sergeant didn’t speak as they made their way through the castle, and Aaron’s mind raced, knowing something wasn’t right but having a hard time trying to figure out what that something was. “The queen knows we’re coming?” He asked.
Brandon led him around a turn in the hallway past two more guards, “Of course.”
Aaron nodded, “Guess she’s got some guards in her room waiting, in case I, I dunno, go crazy and start trying to murder everybody.”
The sergeant laughed but didn’t say anything else, leading him further through the castle. Aaron tried to quest out with his bond with Co, to get an idea of what the man was feeling, what he was thinking, but it was as if he’d run into a wall. For some reason, he could sense nothing of the sergeant’s thoughts or intent. Soon, they came to an intersection in the halls, and Brandon hesitated for a moment before going down the left path. They’d only walked a short distance down it when he paused, smacking his head, “Gods, what am I thinking?” He laughed, “It’s this way.” He turned back the way they’d come, and Aaron followed, alarm bells ringing in his mind now.
Aaron followed the sergeant up several flights of circular stairs, the walls so close together that he almost had to walk sideways to keep from bumping his shoulders into them. Instead of going to the top of the stairs, as Aaron had expected, the sergeant led him up two flights before stepping off and continuing on.
Aaron had only met the queen, Isabelle, the day before, but he knew enough to know that the woman’s vanity would have demanded that her quarters be situated at the center of the castle, no doubt as high as possible so that, from time to time, she could look out a window, down on all those that she ruled, putting those that she saw as figuratively beneath her beneath her in truth.
Guards were present here, but not at such regular intervals as they had been on the bottom floor, nor as common as Aaron would have thought they’d be on the floor which housed the queen’s own quarters. The sergeant led him past the main hallway onto one of the side ones, glancing back at him, “Surely,” Aaron said, “the queen’s rooms are on the main concourse.”
“What?” The sergeant said, glancing back, “Oh, right. This is a shortcut. I thought it best we avoid as many people as possible—wouldn’t want the captain or one of his men trying to keep you from getting to the queen, would we?”
Aaron glanced around and noted that no guards were visible on this hallway. He frowned at the man’s back, following him a few more steps before he spoke again. “Well,” he said, forcing his voice to sound casual, almost bored, “I guess it’s a good sign, the queen asking you to come get me instead of the captain or the general. Of course, young Francis seems to have fallen somewhat out of favor in the queen’s eyes. Who knows, sergeant. You might just get lucky, get a promotion to that captain spot.”
The sergeant nodded without turning, “We can hope so, can’t we?”
Aaron’s eyes narrowed at the man’s response, and he took a few quick steps forward, wincing at the clink and rattle of his manacles as he did, “Hey, sergeant?”
The man turned, his mouth open to speak, but before he got the chance, Aaron slammed his head into the man’s face with as much momentum as his manacles would allow. The man—not the sergeant, A
aron knew that without question now—cried out in surprise and pain, stumbling backward, stunned from the unexpected blow. Before he had a chance to recover himself, Aaron grabbed hold of the chain between his two wrists and slung it at the side of the man’s face with all his strength. The steel links struck hard, leaving a path of bloody, ripped skin, and the sergeant cried out again, wobbling on his feet, but not falling.
Aaron brought the length of chain back and hit the man across the other side of the face, and he heard the crack of something—the man’s cheekbone, most likely—giving way. The man gave a grunt of pain, but still refused to drop. If anything, he looked as if he was recovering, his feet getting steadier beneath him. Fucker won’t go down, Aaron thought, amazed. Knowing that if the man recovered, he’d be in trouble, he lunged forward, jerked the man’s sword out of his scabbard and brought it to the sergeant’s throat.
The sergeant, fully recovered now, stared back at him, and though the man’s face was a bloody ruin, he smiled, his teeth stained crimson. “Aaron, why would you do that? You understand the kind of trouble you’re in, don’t you? Striking a sergeant in the queen’s army?”
“I don’t know who you are,” Aaron said, panting from the exertion, feeling more tired and worn out than the man acted, never mind what his face looked like, “I don’t know what you are, but you’re not Sergeant Gant.”
The thing smiled wider, impossibly wide, it seemed to Aaron, “What gave it away?”
“Forget that,” Aaron said, holding the sword steadily on the man’s neck, “if you so much as move, I’ll put this blade through your throat.” The thing’s smile stayed well in place, apparently unconcerned about the length of steel at its neck.
Aaron, Co said, whatever it is, it isn’t human, not anymore, at least.
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