Ashes of Dearen: Book 1
Page 16
*
Picard worried a little that his safra was wearing off. That or the alcohol didn’t help as much as he hoped it would. He would probably need to eat the rest of his safra soon.
In any case, for the time being, he felt on top of the world. Yet again, all the pieces of his plan were falling into place. Now he stood in front of the rented room with Sean at his side. He took a deep breath and then reached to knock on the door. No, not that hand—it throbbed right now. He switched to his left hand, then knocked firmly.
“Richard? Richard, are you in there? We’re ready to come in when you are.”
A few thumps and bangs resounded from within. Then Richard yelled, “Come in!”
Picard unlocked the door and let Sean in first. Then he followed after, and promptly closed the door behind them.
The scene looked almost exactly as Picard hoped it would, save for a few little details. He had forgotten that after sunset, the room would become very dark. Richard had lit a few candles, though the room remained uncomfortably dim. Never mind: perhaps that added to the mood. And the mood seemed perfect, as far as Picard could tell. There in the middle of the room sat the young woman, her hands bound behind her, her ankles tied to the legs of the chair. Her clothes and hair were disheveled, her skirt pushed obscenely high up her legs as Richard had no doubt left it. A bruise developed across her cheekbone, caking with blood. Richard stood behind her, a looming black shadow, except for the bright silver blade he held to the woman’s throat. But best of all, the victim’s gaping eyes gleamed red in the candlelight.
“What the fuck?”
Sean leapt backwards. His hood slipped down, baring his face. He looked even more horrified than Picard had expected. He breathed heavily, clenching the wall behind him. He seemed to lose some of the color in his cheeks. Or perhaps that was just the lighting.
“Sean, meet … one of your relatives. Actually I don’t know her name. I rather hoped you’d tell me. Is she your sister?”
“No!”
“Ah. Well isn’t that good? This means there might be more Wolvens roaming the world out there than you know about.”
“What have you done to her?”
“Oh, not much—yet. We just needed to fight her a bit to restrain her, you understand. Although, for a Wolven, I’m surprised we managed to restrain her at all.”
Sean said nothing for a moment, but his hand slipped under his cloak. Picard prayed silently that Richard noticed. His brother may be an imbecile, but at least he possessed skills in combat.
“Now Sean,” said Picard, “I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. Richard will slit her throat.”
“Why the fuck have you brought her here?” Sean’s breathed in violent, ragged heaves. A few beads of sweat even glittered on his forehead beneath the shaggy strands of his hair. This pleased Picard very much indeed.
“It’s simple, really. I wanted to give you a new assignment, but I knew it would be unusual for you, so I thought I would change the conditions of the assignment, as well.” He stepped towards the girl, putting his gloved hand on her shoulder. She jerked under his touch. “While you’re in Dearen, I want you do more than just kill. I want you to infiltrate the royal family. I want you to discover how safra is made.”
“What? Why?”
“Now that’s a silly question,” sneered Picard. “Everyone in the world wants to know how safra is made.”
“Yes, but … but ...” Sean truly looked close to a panic. “Why me?”
“Because it makes the most sense. You must kill Prince Kyne: I understand that. I could not change the fact my father would hire you for this purpose. And it will be his decision whether you kill the princess, too; for you see, he wants to see if he can marry her first.”
Sean grunted with disgust.
“So the only thing to do was make sure you worked for me, too. It occurred to me that the prince and princess of Dearen may be the last living souls who know how to make safra. And what if only the prince knows, and not his sister? I don’t believe the people of Dearen hold their women in as much esteem as we do in Vikand.” He ran his gloved fingertip across the woman’s chin. “Therefore, I couldn’t let you kill him immediately, as you Wolvens are prone to do. You must take your time, and learn all you can from him, before you take his life. Only take his life when there is nothing else to learn. Same goes for the princess, if Father tells you to kill her too.”
Sean lunged forward suddenly, his entire body bristling. His teeth flashed in the light as he yelled. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll kill this woman. Go on then, Richard—take the scarf from her mouth. Let her tell us her name.”
Richard obeyed, although he had trouble undoing the scarf and holding the knife to her throat at the same time. Picard had to reach in and help him. Finally, the scarf fluttered to the ground. A sob escaped the girl’s mouth before she spoke.
“Teera! My name is Teera! But I’m not a Wolven. I’m not a—”
Picard motioned to Richard, who clamped his free hand over her mouth.
He shook his head with disappointment. “Really, she’s a stupid one, isn’t she? The fact she might be a Wolven was the only thing keeping her alive.” Then he turned to Sean with a grin. He couldn’t help himself. He beamed with pride at a job well done. “Or is it? Tell us, Sean. Will you help her live anyway?”
Sean slumped back a little. By now, trick of the light or no, some of the blood had definitely drained from his face. “I … I don’t understand,” he said.
“Of course not!” piped Picard. “You said yourself, it’s impossible for a Wolven to hide his identity. Therefore it must be impossible for anyone else to pose as a Wolven. Or is it?”
Very very slowly, Sean turned his red gaze on Picard. If murder did not always linger in those eyes of his, it most certainly did now. “I could kill all of you now,” he snarled, “without breaking a sweat.”
Picard resisted the urge to point out that Sean broke a sweat some time ago. “But you won’t, because we’re the sons of the khan, and she … well, she’s just an innocent girl!” He laughed and rubbed his hands together. “Some people you just don’t want to kill, right, Seanie? You wouldn’t kill a poor blind man. And you wouldn’t want to kill Teera, now would you? Even though she’s not a Wolven? Look at how cute she is. Well, she’d be much cuter without the red eyes. But that can be arranged. Stay still, darling.”
She obeyed, although she shook like a leaf, as Picard peeled back her eyelids and plucked out the red lenses one by one. When he was finished, her eyes shone a beautiful blue.
“See that?” Picard resisted another laugh of glee. He held up the tiny red disks for Sean’s curious gaze. “This is what we can do for you, Sean. We can help disguise you. You can walk in broad daylight. We can give you blue eyes, brown eyes … whatever color you feel like.”
Sean still didn’t speak. He glared at Picard with such fury that for just a moment, a jolt of fear churned in Picard’s belly. His hand reached instinctively for the pouch of safra in his tunic. All good humor drained from his voice, and he spoke more gravely than he had all night.
“Do this for me,” he said, “and I will pay you two million goldons. More, if I can. Friva’s mercy, I’d give you just about anything I could afford. The ability to make safra would be priceless. In return, we’ll also let this poor woman—er, Teera—walk free. But better than all that, I will get you lenses to wear. I can get you any color you want. You can pretend to be a regular man. I will do everything I can to help you infiltrate the royal family. And in the end—everyone wins! Wouldn’t you agree?”
Another long silence.
Picard’s hand jerked hard enough to make him wince. He needed more safra, and he needed it soon. “Come on, Sean. Give us your answer.”
“I’ll do it.”
The Wolven spoke so softly that for a moment, Picard feared it was only his imagination. “What was that again?”
“I said I’ll fucking do it!”
5
The List