“But not too soon, I hope,” Luc grumbled.
“Not too soon,” he promised, giving a quick bow. He closed the door behind him.
As soon as it shut, Luc glanced at Cate, who had found a stray piece of paper and was trying to fold something from it. The sight of her, and the weight of the infant on his shoulder, felt strange, carrying the sensation of having stepped through a doorway into another place and time. For a moment, he wondered if his father felt the same way when he found him.
“Did that man feed you?” he asked. “Cate?”
She turned to him. “He bought me a pie earlier. But I’m hungry again.”
“Come on, then. Let’s see what we can find.” He held his hand out. She took it, and they slowly made their way to the kitchen. None of the mercenaries were there that night so no one had cooked, but there was still the spare loaf of bread lying around, and dried salami and ham from what he could recall. Cheese…they still had half a wheel of cheese behind the garlic.
“I can hold him,” she said, reaching out for the baby. “I took care of the babies at Mim Comfrey’s back home all the time.”
“It’s fine,” Luc said, grabbing what he could to give to her. “He’s sound asleep. Does he have a name?”
Cate shook her head. “The woman who dropped him off…she called him Imp…” She paused, a little ashamed for having said the word. Luc couldn’t imagine how a child who had grown up in a whorehouse could be so polite.
“That’s not much of a name for a little fellow,” Luc said, tapping the infant’s back. “How about you come up with one?”
She wrinkled her nose as she took a slice of cheese. “I’m not much good with names.”
Luc thought for a moment. “Barr,” he said.
“Barr?”
“I think it means son.” He remembered Hamis’ words. A spark of light. It frightened him that this was Jona’s blood, but the fear—and whatever loathing may lie behind it—was drowned by the thought of what his father had done and would have him do. Would you choose a murderer’s legacy over someone like Jak’s? It wasn’t even a question, and the thought of handing the infant over to someone else never even occurred to him. Still too much Jak’s son, in that. His thumb curled over the infant’s head and the smooth, black hair already sprouting there.
There were more knocks from the door. He frowned. “Too many visitors tonight. Stay here,” he said, stomping back to the office. If Ylir had forgotten something…
But it wasn’t Ylir waiting for him outside.
“Hello,” Roena said, peering out from under a ridiculous-looking winter coat. “Did I come at a bad time?”
“Uh, maybe?” She glanced at the infant. He felt himself grin foolishly. “I’ve been saddled with some orphans, so it seems.”
“Some?”
“Tasha’s daughter is in the kitchen, too.”
“I hate children,” she said, still staring at Barr.
“Come now, he’s harmless. Probably have to hire a nursemaid to take care of him though—Agartes knows, I won’t have much time to spare taking care of him these days.” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here? Did you come with Ylir?”
“Is he here? Gods. My timing must be off.” She gave a shiver. “Are you going to invite me in or what?”
He stepped aside, watching as she strode through the doorway, dragging a chest behind her. “What is that?” he asked.
“My clothes and some other things,” she replied. “I’ll have to find a place to stay soon, but you have beds here in the meantime, don’t you? The reports say you do.”
“You wouldn’t want to stay here,” Luc grumbled. “The mercenaries aren’t—”
“You’re right. Do you have a place?”
He scratched his cheek. “I’ve been renting a flat nearby. It’s really small, though. All I could afford.”
“I suppose we’ve been in worse.”
“You haven’t really answered my question. What are you doing here? I thought…well, I thought you’d have a couple of these by now yourself.” He shrugged towards Barr.
She looked offended he would even ask such a thing. “I’ve been married three months, Luc. I’m pretty sure it takes a lot longer than that to carry a child.”
He glanced at her belly. “In there, then?”
The offended look turned to horrified. “Please. Draigar’s? Not in a million years.” She sat on the edge of the desk. “I ran away from home.”
“I’ve come to that conclusion.”
“I’ve made my father happy—well, about as happy as one can make him, considering everything. I mean obviously he’d rather I married someone like Duke Ossus but at least he can move on with his life now, or so he told me himself. He’s already trying to find a match for my younger sister as we speak.” She shuddered.
“And Lord Draigar?”
“What about him?”
“He’s your husband—”
“—who knew what he was getting into. I gave him more than enough chances to break the betrothal, if you recall. It’s probably the idea of being married to my father that he likes, gods help him. Don’t give me that face. I was kind to him. I even let the court think we were happily married. You should’ve seen the Blackmarshes when we went up there after the wedding. His father—couldn’t make it because of his bad leg—he was so happy. You would’ve been proud of me…I played the perfect daughter-in-law. And his sister!”
“Uhh, Lady Isobel?”
“She so wanted to murder me! I didn’t realize court could be so much fun when you’ve got that much power. Especially around those who don’t.” She tittered.
Luc sighed. “So what are you doing here?”
“Oh, all of that got boring pretty fast. There’s only so much veiled insults you can take from Lady Isobel at one time, or talks about making heirs with Draigar before bedtime. That sort of talk does nothing for me, unfortunately.” She reached out to tap his arm. “I miss this. Everyone. You.”
Barr began to cry. Roena’s eyes narrowed as Luc attempted to rock him back to sleep. “Although I didn’t realize I’d have to share you at this point. Can’t you just drop them off at an orphanage somewhere?”
“Gods, Roena, you don’t know me very well, do you?”
“I do, actually. Wishful thinking.” She glanced at the contracts. “You kept the name. Marauders. Huh.”
“I’m not very creative, and the others like it.”
“It lacks something. A feminine touch.” She picked up the quill and the inkwell. He watched in horror as she scribbled something down.
“Roena…”
“It’s not anything silly,” she said. She had written Blackwood over the Marauders name.
“Blackwood Marauders,” he repeated with a frown. “You’re serious.”
“I am.”
“I can’t afford to pay you.”
“I’ve got coin. I’m buying my way up the hierarchy. I’m your partner now. Co-leader. I’ll need to get up on speed on everything that’s been happening the last few months—every job we’ve been on, our usual clients, these contracts you’re looking at…”
“I don’t even get a say?”
She tugged at her shirt, baring her collarbone a little. “Are you implying we negotiate?”
His nostrils flared. “This is unfair.”
“I know it is.”
“I mean, you’re taking advantage of me here.”
“I know I am.”
“Gods damn it, Roena. What do you think Ylir will say if he finds out you’re now working with us officially? He was just here talking about eggshells and criminals and…”
“Are you implying I’m a criminal?”
“I’m implying you’re trouble, Roena. And you’re not even a Blackwood. You’re a Blackmarsh now.”
“Blackwood’s heir. Still a Blackwood. Draigar can keep his name…I never wanted it.”
He frowned. “Ylir will be pissed.”
“Don’t I know it. That’s half the fun.�
� She laughed.
“All of them will be. Draigar. Your father.” He shook his head. “Unfair,” he repeated.
“How about you find that nursemaid now and I can show you exactly how unfair?”
He was powerless against her, but then he wasn’t sure he minded that at all. He worked a lot better with her around, anyway—killed more monsters, at least, which was never a bad thing. He groaned, though, and she laughed again, her breath tickling his ears. Down in the kitchens, Cate called out for him, and he found himself tucking Barr against his chest as he went to her. Roena followed, complaining loudly that children didn’t belong in mercenary camps and offices, and could he at least find Hana so he could hand them over to her before she lost her mind?
They shared the meat and the last of the cheese, found wine, managed to put the children to bed in the mercenaries’ quarters with little fuss, and spent the rest of the night in the floor of his office this time. Theirs, she insisted. Not until the paperwork was done, he reasoned. He knew this would form the pattern of his life for a good long while. Later, while she slept, he heard Barr cry out and without even thinking about it went back to the room to fetch him. He spent the rest of the night sitting near the fire with the infant on his lap, a tangle of emotions inside of him. He didn’t think he could ever straighten them out even if he tried.
Rage. Grief. Not love, not yet, but an inkling that it was necessary for this to lead there someday, else he was no better than the man this child will never know was his father. And a hint of comfort. More would be better, but wasn’t needed. He understood that now. Warmth and light in the trenches, and luck enough to last another day. Luck enough to work with. Luck enough to get by.
You don’t argue with the gods.
Praise for K.S. Villoso
“K.S. Villoso is a new voice in fantasy that any fan of the genre should be taking note of right now.”
“…ambitious and yet it works well…nearer the end when things started tying together, I was constantly ooh-ing and ahh-ing when things clicked, and all the connections made sense…this is one of those books that you have to be patient with if you want to get to the good stuff.”
“…motivations and behavior are consistent, each character a distinct and complex voice. Scenes that can occasionally feel slow and ponderous are frequently later revealed to have been densely packed with information, woven neatly into the narrative without actually feeling like exposition. Eagle-eyed readers will love the clever use of foreshadowing, and several times I found myself caught off guard by a reveal only to go back and see that nope, I just missed the clues.”
“I was impressed…it’s not easy to make a character-driven story with this kind of main character.”
“…a great job of having everyone be a shade of gray: equipped with their baggage and/or selfish motives; still have entirely realistic personalities…and even if you hate the character, you can still understand and appreciate the actions they take during the entire novel. Quite a feat achieved!”
"...an attentive reader will be rewarded for absorbing the details. Many of the things revealed …I didn't see coming at all, but they were expertly set up... The author really shined with her ability to write great characters…I am extremely impressed with how K.S. Villoso wrapped this series up and am eagerly awaiting her next series. I have a lot of faith in this author, and she proved that she takes her craft very seriously and continued to improve with every offering."
"There is a tremendous amount of history and world-building on display… Much of it is deftly woven into the story. With each successive book, Villoso’s skills grow stronger. By the time I arrived at Sapphire’s Flight, her prose had graduated to a beautiful thing. Her characters are flawed, which means that sometimes I wanted to smack them upside the head. But it made them real, and it made me care... At its heart, it’s about its characters, caught in the machinations of an epic fantasy world that simply will not leave them be."
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About The Author
K.S. Villoso was born in a dank hospital on an afternoon in Albay, Philippines, and things have generally been okay since then. After spending most of her childhood in a slum area in Taguig (where she dodged death-defying traffic, ate questionable food, and fell into open-pit sewers more often than one ought to), she and her family immigrated to Vancouver, Canada, where they spent the better part of two decades trying to chase the North American Dream. She is now living amidst the forest and mountains with her family, children, and dogs in Anmore, BC.
Other Books By K.S. Villoso
Annals of the Bitch Queen
“They called me “bitch”, the she-wolf, because I murdered a man and made my husband leave the night before they crowned me.”
Born under the crumbling towers of Oren-yaro, Queen Talyien's life unfolded like a storybook. The shining jewel and legacy of the bloody War of the Wolves that nearly tore her nation apart, her marriage to Rayyel, the son of her father's rival, spoke of peaceful days to come.
But all storybooks must end. Rayyel's sudden departure before their reign began created fractures that left the land as divided as ever.
Years later, Talyien receives a message from Rayyel, urging her to meet with him across the sea. An assassination attempt interrupts Talyien's quest for reconciliation, sending the queen struggling in a strange and dangerous land. With betrayals in every twist and turn, she is forced to enlist the help of a con-artist to survive and save her husband from the clutches of those who would seek to use him for their gain...if he would let her.
The Agartes Epilogues
Two brothers split by ambition, and the hero's daughter who finds her fate woven with theirs, are caught in a war involving a necromantic beast.
The lives of a mercenary, a seamstress, and a merchant converge. Kefier, who is picking up the pieces of his life after his brother’s accident, finds himself chased down by former associates for his friend’s death. Already once branded a murderer, he crosses paths with his friend’s sister, Sume, whose only desire is to see her family through troubled times. In the meantime, young, arrogant Ylir takes a special interest in Kefier while he himself is entangled in a battle with a powerful mage, one whose name has been long forgotten in legend. At the crux of their conflict is a terrible creature with one eye, cast from the womb of a witch, with powers so immense whoever possesses it holds the key to bring the continent to its knees.
Birthplace
Pablo Santos—reckless, irresponsible, social misfit—doesn't want to join his dad in Canada. He wants to stay in Manila with his best friend, Rachel Ann. In a fit of rage, he decides to get even by breaking into the old man's email account. A simple security question stumps him: “Where was father born?” The fact that he doesn’t know anything about his father’s past pushes Pablo to take a journey across the sprawling Philippine countryside. He is accompanied by the spoiled, spirited Rachel Ann, who had just dumped her latest boyfriend and can't seem to get over it like usual. Rachel Ann’s father suspects them of eloping and they find themselves hiding out in a farming village to escape the heat. Here, their vacation takes a turn for the worse when they meet a sullen boy Rachel Ann falls head over heels for, an old man with a taste for raw flesh, and a beautiful girl who seduces Pablo, drops half her body, and tries to eat him. Suddenly, Pablo's quest becomes more than he bargained for as he is led to some unsettling discoveries about his family, his father, and most importantly, himself.
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