"Waiting for you," Evester replied as Emriana closed with him to give him a hug.
Evester returned the embrace-and the girl was flipping over sharply, off balance against her brother's hip. She landed on the floor with a solid thud, her arms pinned behind her. The breath was knocked out of her.
As Emriana gasped and tried to make sense of what had just happened, she felt her brother cinch her arms together with rope. Her heart sank, realizing that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
"Uncle Dregaul should have paid more attention to your antics," Evester said, finishing his knot work and starting on Emriana's legs. "He would have realized, like I have, what a clever little rogue you've turned into, sneaking out all the time."
"Evester," Emriana said, "what are you doing? What's happened to you?"
"Oh, plenty," Evester replied. "I woke up and realized if I waited around for Grandmother Hetta to die and Uncle Dregaul to finally retire, I'd never gain control of this family and its assets. So I decided to take matters into my own hands."
"Why?" the girl asked in a small voice, horrified that her older brother was behind all of what was going on. "What could you have possibly wanted that you couldn't already have?"
"Oh, little Em," Evester said with a chuckle, "you are still so innocent. Sixteen tonight and thinking you understand life, but you don't. There's so much more. The real power to be had in this city is there for the taking, if people are just willing to step up and grab it. Denrick and I see that. Someday, maybe you will, too."
"It was you!" Emriana said suddenly, realizing that Evester and not Uncle Dregaul had promised Denrick he could have her. "You told that lecherous worm that he could violate me! You gave him permission to take me!"
She struggled to get up, then began kicking to try to break free, but it was too late; her brother had already bound her tightly.
Evester chuckled and said, "I was just being a good businessman, Em, taking full advantage of the resources at my disposal. Remember what I said the other night about risk and reward, and how none of the Houses in Arrabar would take chances with each other? I had something Denrick wanted, so we struck a deal. It was just business, sister, just business. It's a fearless man's game, running a great House in Arrabar, and I'm just the fearless man to play it. With my two trusted partners, of course."
"Vambran won't let you get away with it," Emriana said, trying to sound convincing, for her own sake as much as for her brother's.
Evester laughed again.
"Vambran?" he said. "Unlikely. Not when the rest of his family is in danger. He's just a little too idealistic for his own good, little sister. He and Dregaul are just alike, more so than either would care to admit. Both of them spent all these years protecting the family, hiding Vambran's dirty little secret from the world, though for very different reasons. He's not about to jeopardize his kin to stop me, sis. He'll sacrifice himself thinking he can save you, just as Aunt Xaphira did for him. Problem solved. It'll be a pleasure to be rid of his brooding, self-righteous presence."
Emriana could not speak, she was so furious, hurt, and stunned. She would never in a hundred years have imagined that Evester could be so callous. She felt tears begin to well up in her eyes, saw in her mind's eye her world crashing down around her once again.
"Well, it's time to go downstairs," Evester said, pulling a magically illuminated rock from some hidden pocket and lighting the room with its pale, pearly glow. "I'm sure Denrick will be happy to see you've been rounded up once more."
With that, Evester stooped down and hoisted his sister up over his shoulder. He carried her back out the door of the library.
Vambran blocked a quick stab at his head and backed up a step, then jumped to his left as Denrick slashed low with his sword. The lieutenant planted his feet against the wall and pushed back the other direction, going high, and parrying another rapid slice with his own blade. He landed on the banister of the balcony, then had to swing out over the sitting room a story below, one arm wrapped around the closest column, to escape yet a third slash from Denrick. Vambran came back around to the banister again, with that column between him and his opponent. Denrick's blade smacked sharply against the column as Vambran jumped down to the balcony again.
"I guess all that service with your soldier buddies was good for something," Denrick scoffed, advancing again. "You may not fight worth a damn, but at least you're good at the acrobatics."
Vambran ignored the other man's jibes and concentrated on matching his moves. The lieutenant had to admit that the Pharaboldi whelp was an excellent swordsman. He had already pushed Vambran back three times, and the mercenary officer was beginning to wonder if there was a way inside the man's defenses. Though Vambran's blade was a bit longer, Denrick was very fast with his, and he always seemed have a parry in place when Vambran attacked.
"Come on," Denrick said, "the night's not getting any younger. If I'm going to have any time left for your sister's charms, we've got to finish this sometime in the next few hours."
Vambran knew the man was just trying to rattle him, and he worked hard to tune out the scathing words. But every time Denrick mentioned Emriana, the lieutenant wanted to smash his head against a wall. The first time Denrick had taunted Vambran with his carnal intentions, Vambran had let his emotions get the best of him and jumped in for a fierce series of slashes and cuts, thinking to put the upstart down then and there. But Vambran was rudely awakened when he took a cut across his wrist. It was a glancing blow, and Denrick's blade wasn't turned at precisely the right angle, but it had opened Vambran's eyes to just how cunning and talented his foe really was.
As Denrick closed for a new attack, Vambran dropped down and sliced at the man's feet. Denrick leaped over the swing and used his momentum to turn a back flip back out of the way as Vambran came up suddenly, thrusting into the air where Denrick had been a split-second before.
Vambran's rush carried his center of balance a little too far forward, though, and Denrick came back in with a downward stroke, trying to cleave Vambran's head in half. The lieutenant rolled to one side, grabbing at a pedestal with a bit of ancient Netherese pottery displayed atop it. Vambran pulled the pedestal down and around, clipping Denrick's knee as the scoundrel's blade clanked off the pottery, shattering it. Vambran rolled away and spun around again.
Denrick smiled as he came closer again.
"Arm getting tired?" he asked casually. "I can cut it off if it is," he added, smirking.
Vambran noted that members of the Sapphire Crescent were gathering below, and several more of the mercenaries were ascending the stairs, coming to aid him. Denrick would quickly be outnumbered. Though he suspected the man could take a soldier or two down before he himself dropped, Vambran would prefer not to lose any of his men.
"Your time is up," Vambran said to his foe. "It's only a matter of time before we drop you. Let's spare both of us a lot of pain and end this sensibly. You don't want to die, do you?"
"No, but I want you to die," the younger man retorted, charging in on Vambran again. The lieutenant was forced to spring to the side of the new rush, and he slammed against the railing of the balcony again, overbalancing and tumbling over the top of it.
For an instant, Vambran seemed to hang in midair, flailing as his body tilted awkwardly, his sword spinning out away from him. Then he managed to grasp hold of one of the spindles of the railing, jerking himself to a stop, but wrenching his shoulder in the process. He dangled there for a moment, his arm twisted painfully over his head, and let go, dropping down to the sitting room below, just as Denrick lunged out over the banister to try and stab at him.
Vambran's escape permitted several of the mercenaries watching the melee from below to get in a clean shot with their crossbows, and Denrick took two hits as he tried to straighten back up. One bolt grazed his arm, marking a clean line diagonally along the forearm, and the other sank deeply into his thigh. The young man howled in pain and staggered back from the railing, sinking down onto his backsi
de in a whimper.
Vambran heaved a sigh of relief as several more soldiers moved in around Denrick, taking him prisoner. The lieutenant looked up and saw Kovrim, Adyan, and Horial among the troops, and he smiled at them.
"Good timing," he said. "I owe you, boys."
Kovrim nodded, and Horial started to say something as the men upstairs forced Denrick to his feet and began to march him back toward the stairs. But everyone stopped short as a clear, calm shout echoed through the sitting room.
"Vambran!" It was Evester. He stood at the railing of the highest balcony, one level above the study, where Old Obiron's library was. Beside him, standing stiffly, was Emriana. She had a sorrowful look on her face, and Vambran suddenly realized that she was bound.
The lieutenant shook his head.
"Evester?" he called out, "Are you all right?"
"No," the mercenary's older brother called down, a hard edge to his voice. "No, I'm not. You've ruined everything, you stupid lout."
"I did what?" Vambran said, moving to a different spot where he could see better. "What are you talking about?"
"It wasn't Uncle Dregaul, Vam," Emriana called forlornly. "It was Evester. He's behind it all."
Vambran's breath caught in his throat as he heard his sister's chilling words.
"What are you doing, Evester? What is this about?"
"It's about me taking my rightful place as the head of the family, about getting things done that no one else can do. And it's about you interfering with all of it."
"How did I do that, Ev? What did I interfere with?"
"My alliance, you idiot! You came home and promptly shredded the whole plan to pieces. Because you had to stick your nose into something that had no effect on you at all."
"Oh, so because it wasn't anyone I know, I shouldn't care what happened to her?"
"By the gods, Vambran, save your concern for the people who really matter! If you devoted half as much of your noble concern worrying about how your actions affect your family as you do worrying about some stupid, common wench, we wouldn't be here right now."
"That's pretty funny, coming from the man who has usurped the family seat, practically sold his own sister into slavery, and is going to-to do what, Ev? Are you going to get rid of us? Me? Em? Grandmother Hetta? You think all of that is showing concern for your family?"
"Shut up," Evester said, pulling a dagger and placing it against Emriana's throat. "What would you know about it, anyway? All you ever managed to do was shoot the Lord of Arrabar's cousin and let someone else take the blame for it. Not only did you put the whole future of the House-my future-in jeopardy, but then you couldn't even stick around and take your lumps like a man. No, you had to run off and join a mercenary band while I stayed here and learned the business. And everything that Uncle Dregaul and I tried to get you to do to help improve the family's station, you railed against. So how would you know what's good for the family?"
"Waukeen, Evester," Vambran said quietly, "you think I didn't regret that every single day of my life? You think I didn't wish I could take it back? That's the very reason why I wouldn't let this go. Maybe Jithelle Skolotti was just a 'common wench,' but I couldn't stand by and watch another person's family wonder what really happened, like I did to Rodolpho's." Evester shook his head.
"I'm through talking with you," he said. "Just get up here. And Denrick. Both of you climb up here now, or Em slips and falls over the side."
And, just to show he meant it, Evester grabbed his sister by the shoulder and shoved her forward, making her lean out over the railing.
Emriana yelped in fright and struggled to back away from the drop, but Evester had all the leverage, and he just kept pushing her, forcing her farther and farther out.
"Vam! Help me!" the girl shrieked. "Please, stop it!"
"Get up here, Vambran," Evester said. "I'm not kidding."
All around him, Vambran heard the murmurs and grumbles of his men, angry at the situation and talking bravado about knocking Evester down a peg or two or giving him a good swift sword in the gut, but Evester had them bested, and everyone knew it. The lieutenant eyed Denrick, who was grinning malevolently at him, and he nodded to the men holding the prisoner. Understanding, they let the younger man go, and he jerked his arms free indignantly, then turned and demanded his sword. Reluctantly, the soldier holding it handed it over.
"You see?" Denrick said to Vambran. "In the end, you can't beat us. You're a fool to even try. The city belongs to us, Vambran. Not to the old fools who hoard their gold, or the small-time thinkers like your uncle or my mother. Only people such as Evester and me truly understand how to wield the power of coin."
"I hardly think it takes a lot of brains to take the cowardly road, Denrick," Vambran said. "And you're not out of here free and clear, yet. So I wouldn't go flapping my mouth off too much if I were you."
Denrick just glared at Vambran, who gestured for the younger man to go first. Denrick limped forward, taking the lead, and the pair of them began to ascend to the top floor.
When Vambran arrived, Evester was standing behind Emriana, holding the blade to her throat once more and using her as a shield.
"First, you're going to heal him, Vambran. Then, you're going to let him tie your hands behind your back, and the four of us will walk out of here."
"And go where, Ev? The whole city will be hunting for you after this. There's no place you can retreat to and still sit atop your ill-gotten perches."
"Nonetheless, you're going to do exactly what I just said, or I will slit her throat and throw her over the side. Do you understand me?"
"Sure, Ev," Vambran said, defeat making his words quiet. He knelt down, ready to examine the puncture wound in Denrick's leg. He cast one last glance up, about to tell Evester that he would cooperate and be their hostage if they would let Emriana go right then, when he spotted the faintest hint of movement from behind his older brother.
Xaphira.
Apparently, Denrick hadn't seen her, so Vambran quickly averted his eyes downward again, not wanting to betray the potential rescue. He directed his face toward the end of the bolt still rammed in Denrick's leg, but he watched carefully out of the corner of his eye for some sort of telltale sign that she was acting. He saw her take the first subtle step toward Evester, and he reacted.
Reaching out, Vambran gripped the end of the bolt and slammed it sideways, twisting at the same time. The howl of pain as Denrick stumbled backward was loud and piercing. The younger man staggered backward, reaching feebly toward the pain, as Vambran stood up again and turned back toward his brother.
Evester held a look of shock on his face as he watched what Vambran had just done, and he let his hold on Emriana sag slightly, dropping his guard. Xaphira timed it perfectly. She stepped in behind the man, snaking her arm underneath the one of his that held the dagger and leveraging it out, away from his hostage's face. At the same time, she shifted her weight under his, shoving him up off the ground with her hip and spinning him over backward. He landed with a thud on the balcony, well away from Emriana.
Emriana sank down to the tiles, for she was still bound hand and foot. Vambran moved to her, ready to help free her, when her eyes grew wide.
"Look out!" she cried, and Vambran instinctively dived to one side as Denrick's sword whistled over his head.
The force of the strike sent Denrick staggering forward, for his leg had no strength in it, and he could not easily recover his balance. He stumbled forward, right at Emriana. She rolled backward, even as he came at her, and Vambran could see what the heir of House Pharaboldi was about to do. The lieutenant willed his body to lunge forward, to stop Denrick's forward progress, but he was much too slow. There was nothing he could do to stop Denrick from slipping his blade right into Em's chest as he fell on top of her.
Curiously, though, the wounded man didn't reach the girl. As he fell, she rolled backward, bringing her feet, which were still tied together, up under him. She used his momentum against him, hoisting him hig
h and shoving as hard as she could, sending him completely past her, over her, and toward the railing.
Vambran watched the sequence as if time had slowed down somehow. Denrick, still flying forward, was headed over the railing. He was twisted awkwardly, unable to stop himself, and he flailed about desperately for something to grab hold of, anything at all that would keep him from falling to his death.
The one thing that was there, within reach, was Evester. Somehow, Vambran's brother had managed to get to his feet and was circling with Xaphira, when Denrick went tumbling by.
The oldest son of Ladara Matrell never saw his companion coming, but Denrick managed to grab hold of his shirt. As he fell over the railing, Denrick hung on to Evester, refusing to let go, and the force of his momentum pulled Evester right over the side with him. The last thing Vambran saw of his brother was one arm, fingers extended, grasping futilely for the banister. There was a shriek of terror, and a moment later, one large thump that Vambran felt even at the top of the house.
"I knew Dregaul was beginning to slip into a maniacal notion that any business deal, no matter how questionable, whether financial or ethical, was all right," Hetta said.
They were all gathered in the sitting room. The elderly matriarch of the Matrell family was in her favorite chair, and Ladara was beside her, as usual, though Emriana's mother was obviously more subdued than usual. The girl couldn't really blame her; she had lost a son and a grandson, after all.
After Denrick and Evester's deaths, the rest of the family had been found, unharmed, locked in the cell in the basement. Marga had not handled her husband's death well, though in the end, after some magical calming ministrations from Kovrim, she at least began to see that she and her twin children had probably been spared a lifetime of misery under a tyrant's rule. Still, she was left in a quandary. Her own House was devastated, just as House Pharaboldi was. Her only true family seemed to be the Matrells. The three of them were resting quietly in their rooms while the rest of the family discussed how to honor their dishonorable dead.
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