“Madam Healer, there is no need for you to take that tone with me!”
“M’lord, do I come down to the docks and tell you how to build your ships?”
Arbassi snorted. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about shipbuilding.”
“And you don’t know the first thing about mending bones so do not presume that you can walk in here and start barking orders at me. Now, if you’d like to sit with him that would be fine. He is still sleeping, as it aids the healing process, but I’m sure having you near will be,” Lumist heard her cough, “a comfort to him.”
“Oh . . . yes, well . . . perhaps for a moment . . .”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have other patients.”
Lumist sucked on his lips to keep from snickering. He couldn’t imagine the bronze-skinned Seneician sitting long enough to be a comfort for anyone. He heard a chair scrape across the floor and the fidgeting of the lord’s tapping boot.
“Lord Arbassi, may I have a word with you?”
A cold chill raced up Lumist’s spine.
“Lord Ragget,” Arbassi replied stiffly, “what are you doing here? I am visiting my son.”
“Yes, I see. I heard about his unfortunate accident at the Belyne Military Academy. Quite tragic. This is the seventh injury to occur there in just over a month, I believe, and your second son hurt, isn’t that so? Allow me to extend my deepest apologies to you and your wives. How is the young Master Arbassi faring?”
“I’m sure he’ll be up and about in a few days.”
“Wonderful news.” Ragget’s voice oozed sincerity. “Still, such a shame. I wonder sometimes what Lord Master Vincent Donner is thinking. Ever since his promotion, there have been so many injuries. Take that fire in the west wing, for example. I heard that twelve boys were burned alive. No little Arbassis were lost I hope.”
“Fortunately, no!” the Seneician replied, the relief in his voice obvious. “But I heard a fire mage lost control of his elemental. Surely, you can’t blame Lord Master Donner for that.”
“Can’t I?” Ragget asked. “Isn’t he responsible for the entire school?”
“Well, yes. But . . .”
“I have always wondered about his abrupt promotion anyway. I mean, a Gyunwarian in charge of our prestigious Academy? Does that seem right to you? And considering recent events, I speak of Lord Weatherall murdering our beloved king of course, I think perhaps . . .”
“Lord Ragget, I’m afraid I must stop you right there,” Arbassi said sharply. “I am on the panel of inquisitions and I cannot discuss the upcoming trial, not even with you.”
“No, of course not. That would be improper.” There was a long pause, and Lumist thought the two men would hear the pounding of his heart. “However,” Ragget continued, “I just realized when . . . I mean, if . . . if Lord Weatherall is found guilty . . .”
“Lord Ragget, please, I really cannot discuss . . .”
“Yes, of course, I’m just thinking out loud,” Ragget said innocently. “But if he were found guilty, there would be an open position on the Belyne Military Academy board. And with Lord Weatherall removed, Lord Master Vincent Donner’s three primary supporters would all be gone.”
“What do you mean?” Arbassi asked in a hushed voice.
Lumist tried to slide his head closer while at the same time keeping it turned away. He did not wish to have either man know he was listening in on their private conversation.
“If I remember correctly, Lord Byron Kindacaid, Lady Leorna Roth, and Lord Weatherall voted in favor of Donner’s promotion,” Ragget whispered. “The first two have since died and now with Lord Weatherall accused of high treason . . .”
There was another long pause. Lumist struggled to keep his breathing slow and shallow while his heart hammered wildly in his chest. It was all he could do not to sit up and gasp for air.
“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying,” Arbassi finally broke the dreadful silence.
“What am I implying?” Ragget asked. “I was assuming a caring and loving father of soon, twenty children, many of which are currently enrolled in our most esteemed academy, would be concerned for their health and safety. I was also assuming that such a caring and loving father of soon, twenty children, would want only the best for them, and would like to perhaps sit upon the board that makes the decisions concerning their education.” Ragget’s voice lowered. “If you think an inexperienced foreigner is capable of educating your precious children, then by all means, do nothing and pray to the gods and goddesses above that the next accident under Donner’s watch isn’t fatal.”
Lumist heard footsteps and then suddenly they stopped.
“I almost forgot. There’s something else I wanted to ask you,” Ragget continued. “I need to order five more ships and they need to be delivered to me as soon as possible.”
“Yes, of course,” Arbassi said. “What is your question?”
“I’ve heard Lord Strandson makes a quality ship. What is your opinion of his shipbuilding skills?”
“Lord Ragget, I thought we had reached an agreement. You were going to place that order with me!” Arbassi snapped. “My men have already begun building the first two.”
There was another very long, uncomfortable pause. Lumist wished he could turn and see what was happening, but he didn’t dare show his face now! If Ragget knew this conversation had been overheard, Lumist doubted he would leave the infirmary alive. He swallowed a lump in his throat and tried to slow his racing heart.
He needed to warn Ian . . . but how? By the time he was out of bed, the trial would surely be over!
“I need that contract,” Arbassi said softly.
“I know you do, and I’ll have my man deliver it to you as soon as Ian’s trial has successfully concluded.”
Arbassi sighed. “What do you wish for me to do in the courtroom?”
Ragget chuckled. “Absolutely nothing at all.”
chapter 31
Cecily sat behind Ian’s desk and slowly read each of the letters in the bundle. A knot formed in her stomach as she read the same words she’d read earlier at Devin’s. It couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Mother!”
Cecily looked up. Tyran stood in the open doorway, looking very much like his father, only dirtier and smelling like the sewers.
“Where have you been?” she asked sharply, her nose wrinkling in disgust.
Upon her return home, she had found the estate filled with royal guards, but Tyran and the entire staff were missing. Ian and his personal guards had been hauled away in chains.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he snapped.
“Do not take that tone with me, young man!”
“Father sits in the dungeon while you sit here poking around in his desk?”
“Your Father is in the dungeon because he killed the king!”
“That is a lie!” Tyran shouted. “My father would never kill anyone.”
Cecily tossed the letters aside. “You don’t know your father very well then. He has killed many . . .”
“NO!” Tyran clamped his hands over his ears. “I won’t listen to your lies!”
Cecily charged across the room and tore his hands away and when he fought back she slapped him across the face, hard. “I will not tolerate you shouting at me, young man! I am your mother! You will show me some respect!”
Tyran’s jaw tightened. “Don’t you ever hit me again!”
Cecily took a step back, suddenly frightened by the rage she saw growing in his eyes. “Go to the tower!”
“No!”
Cecily’s hand flew up, poised for a back-handed blow. Tyran jutted his chin. She faltered. He was daring her to strike him! “You will obey me!” she shrieked. “Go to the tower!”
Tyran backed out of the room and without another word he walked the other way.
“Tyran!” She followed him out into the hall and watched him disappear down the main stairs without a backward glance. “TYRAN!”
She stalked
back into the study and slammed the door. Every day he became more like his father. She chewed on her bottom lip. Perhaps, the vocal critics had been right all along.
Perhaps a half-breed should not sit upon the throne of Yordic.
chapter 32
“Why are we here?” Kin-Tar asked. “This place reeks of mating.”
The rain had diminished to a light drizzle, but as Kylpin stood in the middle of the dark street and stared at the dilapidated building with the green door, he felt a strange kinship form. The Toothless Whore’s roof was sagging, the windows were grimy and cracked, and one of the walls looked like it had some burn damage. The building had suffered terribly, but it was still standing. There was something to be said for that.
“Lipscombe usually comes here when he’s in Belyne,” Kylpin answered. He didn’t bother to mention that he had visited the brothel too, many years ago, before it had looked this sad.
“We will go in and find him . . .” Xo-Taro started.
“No!” Kylpin put a hand on the Shi’kwaran’s shoulder. “I’ll go in. Alone. It will be quicker that way.”
“How can it be quicker with only one seeking and not four?” Kin-Tar grumbled. “On Dondagla, men with crazy minds like yours are Kita’ta’. They are killed.”
“Kin-Tar!” Xo-Taro barked. He continued in their language and the young man crossed his arms over his chest. Kylpin thought he heard something about respect and honor but frankly, he was too tired to try to follow their heated conversation. Lack of sleep these past few nights were starting to catch up with him.
“We will scout the area while you go inside,” Mai-Jun suggested. She grabbed both of her men and pulled them away.
Kylpin nodded. He climbed the dilapidated stairs and pushed his way through the swinging green door. The cloying musk of sex, old sweat and too many sour perfumes invaded his nose and mouth all at once and he fought the urge to vomit. Oily smoke had left greasy stains on the sitting room walls and around the crown of the cracked ceiling. About half of the sagging chairs were empty and the other half were filled with old, broken-down sailors who were probably there more so to wait out the storm rather than to buy flesh.
And the flesh that was for sale . . . Kylpin winced. The sagging chairs were the perkiest things in the room. A handful of the younger women perched near the door, those with perhaps only ten or fifteen years on him, made feeble attempts to catch his attention. Their dull stares never changed as his gaze passed over them one by one, but the corners of their brightly painted lips twitched up, perhaps in vague imitations of seductive smiles. An older woman lounging on a ratty sofa straightened as he approached, cupped her bare sagging breasts, and lifted them off her protruding belly. Her tongue flicked past her six yellow teeth as she took turns licking each of her fat nipples. Kylpin moved on. The deeper into the room he went, the more the women tended toward the extremes: extremely undernourished, extremely overweight, extremely hairy, extremely smelly, extremely . . . difficult to look at . . .
Gods! When had he become so shallow?
“Kylpin Caleachey . . .”
The speaker was standing midway up the stairs leading to the private rooms above. Once, she might have been voluptuous, but now she was just thick and broad and built more like a brick and less like an hourglass. A faint mustache darkened the pale skin above her puffy upper lip.
“Fran Telitch,” Kylpin walked over to greet her.
“O, I ain’t been called tha’ for years now, not for years. Ev’ryone just calls me the Toothless Whore.” She plodded down the stairs and met him at the bottom. “And I bet I know why you’re here, Kylpin, and it ain’t for me, now, it ain’t for me.”
“Where’s Lipscombe?”
She bobbed her head. “Yep, that’s what I figured.”
“Fran?”
“He ain’t here, darlin’.”
“He took Evie.”
“I wish I could tell you different, but he ain’t here. Honest. I’d tell you if he was, I really would. He bought some m’holes a day or two ‘go, but he done left wit’ them. Ain’t comin’ back ‘gain, not for long while I suppose.” She ran a hand up his chest and tickled his beard. “You wanna have a go at it while you’re here? I could give you a cheap thrill for the hell’ovit.”
“I don’t have time.”
“O, ev’ryone’s got time for a bit o fun with the Toothless Whore.” She smiled and showed off her bare gums. Her hand slid down his chest toward his belt. “Just close your eyes and picture anyone you like. I’ll make it feel good.”
Kylpin shook his head. “Just tell me where Lipscombe is.”
“Gimme a minute to think . . .”
With a grunt, she dropped to her knees and started pulling on his trousers. Kylpin pushed her hands away and took a step back, but she crawled after him, grabbed him around his waist and pulled him close.
“No, I don’t want . . . just tell me . . . I’ve got to find Evie . . .”
The Toothless Whore looked up and gave him a playful wink. “You know I always think better with m’mouth full . . .”
There was a blur of motion around him, a cry of pain and the Toothless Whore was across the room lying on one of the sagging couches with Kin-Tar standing over her. She opened her mouth to scream and the Islander slid a knife between her lips.
“No . . .!” Kylpin shouted.
Kin-Tar glanced over his shoulder at him. “She said she thinks better with her mouth full.” The young Islander turned back to the old woman. “Think. Where is Lipscombe?”
“Eeeez odin izzz ippp,” the Toothless Whore said around the metal in her mouth.
“Kin-Tar let her go.”
The young Islander didn’t move.
“Kin-Tar.” Kylpin put a hand on the young man’s shoulder. The Islander whirled on him, his eyes squinting with rage. Kylpin stood his ground. This wasn’t the first time he’d stared down a dangerous man.
Kin-Tar removed the knife.
“He’s loadin’ his ship,” the Toothless Whore said. She heaved herself up to a sitting position and put a hand to her mouth. Her fingers came away with blood on them. “Hell, if I know . . .” She stared at Kin-Tar. “What the hell you supposed to be?”
“We can try the docks up north near the Fist’s warehouse.” Kylpin handed the Toothless Whore some coins. “For your trouble.”
“You pay her for causing us trouble?” Kin-Tar stared at him.
Kylpin shook his head and headed for the door.
“Come back anytime, Kylpin,” the Toothless Whore called after him. “But next time leave your savage dog at home.”
Kin-Tar rounded on her. “You sell your flesh for metal and you call me savage dog?”
Kylpin grabbed the young man’s elbow and dragged him outside. On the porch, Kin-Tar yanked himself free and glared down at him again. “On my island, I would take your hand for touching me.”
“If we were on your island, I wouldn’t have bothered pulling you out of there,” Kylpin said. He stepped out onto the street. Kin-Tar followed. “But the reason you’re not on your island is because you’re searching for your sister. Remember her?”
“Yes. I . . .”
“And I’m searching for Evie, and I didn’t feel like wasting more of our time on you defending your pride.”
Kin-Tar stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he bowed his head. “You are right.”
Kylpin chuckled. “I think, my friend, that’s the smartest thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”
Kin-Tar’s head snapped up. His eyes narrowed. His mouth flattened into a thin line. And then, he grunted. He made the noise a few more times.
“If that’s laughter, my friend, you should practice it more,” Kylpin said. “And if it is not, then perhaps you should stop.”
Xo-Taro and Mai-Jun dropped out of the sky beside them. Kylpin slapped a hand to his chest. “You really must stop doing that!”
Xo-Taro raised an eyebrow. Kin-Tar shrugged and shook his head.
&n
bsp; “What do we do now?” Xo-Taro asked.
“We head north,” Kylpin suggested. “Lipscombe is loading a ship. The Fists own a warehouse up there right on the docks. I think that’s our best bet.”
Xo-Taro nodded. “We found a Bloody Fist a couple of streets over. North.” He pointed. “He was not awake. He was naked. We woke him up. He didn’t want to tell us the truth. Not at first. I made him tell the truth. He said a woman knocked him out. A woman took his wind-bottles. A woman took his uniform.”
“Bloody Fists don’t wear uniforms,” Kylpin said.
“The man had fist mark.” Xo-Taro tapped his shoulder. “Said uniform, not clothes. Said he was warden.”
Kylpin nodded his understanding. It was not unheard of for members of the royal wardens who were desperate or a little greedy to work as mercenaries too. “What else did he say?”
“Said the woman who did this was the woman he was hunting. Said she was dangerous. Said she killed a water mage during her escape.”
“Escape?” Kylpin’s heart raced. “Was it Evie?”
“No. He said the name Josephine.”
Josephine? “That’s Evie’s friend. Maybe they were together. Did he say where she escaped from?”
“He would not say.”
“Take me to him,” Kylpin said. “I’ll make him talk.”
Xo-Taro cocked his head to one side. “Nothing you could do I didn’t do.”
“I could . . .”
“He would not say. Given choice to live, he would not say. He says no more.”
Kylpin stroked his beard. Another Bloody Fist dead, and still no closer to finding Evie. “Then, we have no other choice. We’ll head north and check out the warehouse.”
“How far is it?” Mai-Jun asked.
“It’s a long walk,” Kylpin said. “Maybe if you all wore your hoods up, we could hire a carriage and get there faster.”
“We could get there faster if you ran faster,” Kin-Tar muttered.
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