The Severed Realm

by Michael G. Manning

  “Damn it, yes!” I roared. “Someone has to. I heard about the attempt on your life.”

  Rose relaxed slightly then. “That. I should have known he’d tell you.”

  “You’re damn right he did,” I said angrily.

  “I didn’t expect that,” Rose admitted, “but since then, I’ve taken precautions.”

  Like Tyrion? I thought, cruelly, but I kept the words back. Angry as I was, I couldn’t hurt her for what she had done trying to protect me. Instead, I moved closer, glaring down at her and forcing her to step back, until she was brought to a halt by the wall. Why is she so damned beautiful? I felt hungry just staring at her, and not for apples.

  The normally indomitable Rose seemed to wilt slightly before my visible wrath. She stared up at me, eyes wide and nostrils flaring as she fought to control her breathing, but it wasn’t fear I saw in her face.

  From the depths of my belly, the beast rose, shouting at me to take her. The thought of what Tyrion might have done had aroused some territorial instinct that wanted to wipe him from her memory—by making her my own.

  She lifted her chin and her lips parted slightly, while her eyes bored into mine, challenging me.

  Gods be damned! I swore silently. Pushing off from the wall, I stalked away, fighting to get my thoughts under control. “Whatever you’re planning, forget it,” I told her. “I won’t cooperate. I won’t have you or my family dragged through the dirt over this.”

  “Then your best hope is to do as I say,” she responded, fire in her voice.

  “What does that mean?” I asked suspiciously, sensing a hidden threat.

  “It means your best hope for keeping your family out of this is to testify truthfully and make my job easier. If I lose your case, I can’t make any promises about what comes after,” she said coolly.

  “You can’t win this one,” I reminded her.

  “I can, and I will,” she replied. “And if you want to keep your children out of it, you’ll hope that I do.”

  “Don’t you dare bring them into this,” I growled.

  “Sit down,” she responded, and then she took a seat on the bench. “Let me explain this to you.”

  I did, and then she continued, “If we lose the trial, several things will happen. I’ve already arranged things to keep the children away, yours and mine, but if you fight me on this I’ll be forced to alter my plans.”

  Glaring at her, I asked, “Are you threatening me?”

  “I don’t make threats, Mordecai,” she said smoothly. “I deliver on my promises. Even if we lose at the trial, I will get you away from here, and I can do so without involving the children. If you decide not to cooperate, however, that will make things much more difficult. I have already had trouble persuading them not to intervene. The only reason they haven’t already done something stupid is because they trust me. If you won’t help, I’ll tell them. All bets are off then.”

  “That’s a threat, Rose, even if you couch it in pretty language,” I said bitterly.

  She shook her head. “No, it isn’t. As I said before, they trust me. The reason they trust me is because they know I won’t lie to them. If you decide my help isn’t good enough, I will keep their trust by telling them the truth.”

  Exasperated, I put my head in my hands. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

  She said nothing for a while, but after a moment I felt her hand questing for mine. Despite my better judgment, I took it. In a small voice, she asked, “Are you angry with me?”

  I thought about that, then admitted, “No. I’m angry with myself for getting you into this, for being helpless to protect you.”

  “Then you know exactly how I feel,” said Rose. “This isn’t the first time, either. Do you know why I hate Sir Egan?”

  Egan had been the one who had held her back when Dorian died, preventing her from throwing herself under the massive gate that had crushed him into dust. I hadn’t been there, but Penny had, and she had told me the story several times. “Yeah,” I said.

  Leaning sideway, Rose put her head against my shoulder. “No, you don’t. You may think you do, but it isn’t that simple. I know that what he did was to protect me, and I’m also well aware that I couldn’t have made any difference. What I hated him for was the knowledge I gained that day. The feeling of helplessness. That day I became intimately aware of the fact that I had no power. I watched him die and I couldn’t do a thing.

  “Since then, I swore I wouldn’t let that happen again,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

  Putting an arm around her shoulder, I nodded. “I understand.”

  “That isn’t all, Mort. Not by far. This situation is the same thing all over again, and I will do anything to stop it, and no one, not you, not Egan, or even the Queen will stop me from saving you. And if it turns out I can’t, I’m going to be beside you under that stone.”

  Her conviction was humbling, all the more because I didn’t feel as though I deserved it, but I accepted it nonetheless. She had backed me into a corner. Refusing to acknowledge her determination would only hurt her more.

  I looked at her again, watching the tears roll down her cheeks. They didn’t last long, and when they stopped, she wiped her face and glanced up at me, a wan smile beneath red eyes. My heart went out to her, and the words began to bubble up from within me. “Rose,” I said seriously. My mouth opened again, but nothing came out. I couldn’t say it.

  I love you. Why was it so hard? I had told her a dozen times over the years. The casual declaration anyone might make to a friend or family member. But it was different now.

  She pressed a finger to my lips. “Not yet. I’ve had years alone to come to terms with it. Your loss is still too fresh. Don’t push yourself.”

  We didn’t talk after that, but when she left a short while later, she gave me one final message. “Be prepared tomorrow. You’re getting a bath.”

  “What?” I blurted out, but she left without answering, a mysterious smile on her lips.

  Chapter 31

  “There’s good news and bad news,” Manfred began. As usual, they were in her bedroom, since that was where the secret passage opened up.

  With Elise and Carissa gone, that wasn’t strictly necessary, but it wasn’t as though Rose could alter the layout of her rooms on a whim. “What’s the bad news?” she asked, anxious to hear the worst first.

  “My contacts haven’t been able to identify your assassin,” he answered smoothly. “None of the usual players have gone missing recently either, so it’s a safe bet he was from outside the city.” Manfred sat down on the corner of her bed.

  She frowned. “Don’t sit there,” Rose snapped immediately. “If you’re that tired, use the stool.” She pointed toward the dressing table. After the man had regained his feet, she went on, “So then it may well be that he was an amateur after all.”

  Manfred nodded. “Either way, it will be almost impossible to link him with whoever paid him to kill you.”

  Unless it was you who brokered the deal, thought Rose. She had no illusions about the man’s loyalty. They had worked together for many years, but Manfred, by his very nature, could not be trusted. With her base of power eroding by the day, it was only a matter of time before her tools began to turn against her. Now that the winds had shifted, she knew he was likely to sell her out to the first bidder who offered him enough.

  “My best hope is that his disappearance will give his employer cold feet,” observed Rose. Tyrion had eliminated the remains after he left. Even the blood had been gone when she checked later, though how he had managed it she had no idea. “What’s the good news?”

  “Your last piece has stepped onto the board,” answered Manfred.

  Rose looked sharply at him. “You saw her?” Her paranoia was ratcheting up to its highest level. She had told Manfred nothing of her final helper. The man should ha
ve been completely ignorant of her.

  He nodded. “She went to your city house looking for you. One of my men recognized her and made contact—on your behalf.”

  “How do you know her?” asked Rose. “She doesn’t run in your circles.”

  Manfred smiled. “She’s made a business of carrying messages over the past year. I have found her services quite useful.”

  Rose grimaced. If she was well known enough for one of Manfred’s scabs to have recognized her, then there could be others who knew her well enough to identify her. And if word gets back to Gareth, my plan will be at risk, she added mentally. “Where is she now?”

  “I’ll bring her by later,” said the rogue. “She’s never been to your rooms, so I thought it would be best to bring her unseen.”

  “I can’t fault your efficiency, Manfred,” complimented Rose. Reaching into her dressing table, she pulled out a small pouch and tossed it to him.

  The rogue touched his forehead and dipped his head respectfully. “It’s been a pleasure working with you over the years. However, I’m afraid I’ll need more this time.”

  Her brows rose. “Extortion? That’s unlike you. I’ve been your most devoted client for ages.”

  “There’s blood on the ground, Lady Rose. I’ve received several attractive offers lately,” he answered enigmatically.

  “How much?” she demanded.

  “More than you can afford. They have deep pockets.”

  Rose watched him carefully. “You should have taken their offers then. Why tell me this? Doesn’t it run against your financial interests?”

  “Patience is a virtue, Lady Rose. If I delay accepting their offers, they’ll pay more later. In the meantime, I can earn a premium with my current client,” he explained.

  Rose went to her storage chest and opened it, removing a small iron strongbox. Using a key to unlock, it she withdrew two more small leather pouches, both of them heavy with gold. She tossed them to her shifty-eyed companion. “Don’t be so certain of yourself. My pockets are very deep as well. Give me their names.”

  “Cantley and Airedale,” said the rogue.

  She had expected Airedale, but Cantley was a surprise. Both men were exceedingly rich, and if they were both making offers, Manfred stood to make a lot of money. Rose felt a chill run down her spine. One more day. That’s all I need. Meeting Manfred’s eyes, she wondered if he knew what she was thinking. Possibly.

  It wouldn’t be his hand that put the knife in her back, of course. Manfred didn’t do that sort of work, but he would probably be the one who paid the holder of the blade. He made his living brokering deals for information, or whatever else the client desired.

  “How long can you give me?” she asked.

  Manfred gave her an apologetic look. “It doesn’t work like that, Lady Rose.”

  Translation, he won’t give away his hand and spook his future target into doing something foolish, she thought. “I understand your business, Manfred, and I’ve always admired your dedication to your work. What’s the best you can do?”

  The rogue pretended to give it some thought for a moment. “A week perhaps. After that I’ll no longer be able to assist you. It could damage my reputation if I was known to be working for both a potential target and those paying for—well, you understand.”

  “How much do you want?” she asked, feigning desperation, which wasn’t all that hard, considering her situation.

  “How much do you have?” he said without shame.

  “I can give you ten times what you just received,” she said anxiously. “Give me a few hours to gather the money.”

  “Have it when I bring your friend,” he suggested.

  She nodded quickly.

  He left after that, and Rose went to the front room. She paced back and forth for several minutes, thinking furiously. If he’s offering a week, it will be much sooner, possibly even before the trial tomorrow. She had no illusions about her associate’s honesty. She even admired his brazenness, even though it was at her expense.

  She ran through her options and penned a quick letter before finding a page to deliver it for her. Then she made herself another cup of tea, silently wishing she could find some way to calm her nerves.

  ***

  It was nearly three hours before Manfred returned. Rose was still sitting in the front room, but she had left her bedroom door open and the entrance to the hidden passage unlocked. Her chair was positioned so she could see when he entered her room.

  She didn’t usually make such particular arrangements, but she couldn’t bear the thought of being in her room alone when he returned. There was always the risk that it wouldn’t be him coming through the door. From where she sat, it would be simple enough to bolt for the corridor if another assassin showed up instead.

  But it was indeed Manfred who stepped into her bedroom, followed by Karen a second later. That was almost as bad, for it meant she would be following through with her first idea. Anything, Rose chanted to herself mentally.

  Rising from her chair, she went to greet them, giving Karen a hug in the process. “I’m so glad you came,” she told the younger woman.

  Karen grinned. “I could have teleported here straight away, but I’d never been in your rooms before.”

  “A useful talent to be sure,” Rose agreed. Her heart was beginning to pound, and she started to fear it might be loud enough for everyone else to hear. “Excuse us for a moment, Manfred. I’ll be right back.”

  Leaving the man in her bedroom, she shut the door and escorted Karen to the door that led to the corridor. “Would you mind stepping outside for a moment?”

  “Into the hall?” asked Karen, puzzled. “What if someone sees me?”

  Rose took a cloak down from a hanger on the wall and handed it to her. “Put the hood up. I’ll let you back in soon.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She smiled at Karen. “There’s a privacy ward on my rooms, dear. I want to speak with him without fear of you overhearing.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that!” insisted Karen.

  “Humor me, dear,” said Rose. Then she opened the door and ushered Karen outside. Keeping her steps even, she headed back toward her bedroom. The door seemed to loom in front of her, seeming larger than it ever had before. Breathe, she told herself.

  She opened it and went in, closing it once more behind her. “You have it?” asked Manfred, his features pinched with greed.

  “Have I ever let you down before?” she returned, giving the rogue a haughty look. Feigning innocence was too difficult, but superiority was an act that was second nature to her. Moving to one side of the room, she opened the storage chest again and tried to lift the strong box she usually kept her money in. It moved slightly, but then fell back into the chest.

  “It’s too heavy for me,” Rose apologized. “I forget how heavy gold can be. Can you help me?”

  All too glad to help with such a task, Manfred hurried over, leaning down to grasp the box in question. Rose put her left hand on his shoulder encouragingly as he bent down, while her right slipped through the hidden slit in her dress.

  The man’s arms were stretched out, and as he began to lift, he called out in surprise. “Why it’s not heavy at…” His words cut off as the long blade of Rose’s dagger went into his chest, just below his arm. He jerked, releasing the strongbox and standing upright before stumbling away from her, a red stain forming beneath his arm.

  Manfred tried to speak, but his lungs weren’t working properly. He wasn’t dead yet, however. Drawing out a six-inch knife, he glared at her with furious eyes. Unsteady on his feet, he held the weapon in his left hand and advanced on her.

  Rose snatched up the stool from her dressing table and held it out defensively. When her one-time associate rushed toward her, she dodged sideways and shoved him hard with the stool, causing him to fall.
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  Manfred struggled to rise, but his legs were beginning to fail him as he gradually weakened. Rose continued to keep the stool between them as he crawled after her, leaving a bloody trail across the rug. What followed was a slow chase in which he managed to bleed all over the floor and at one point, her bed. When he finally collapsed and grew still, she approached him cautiously.

  He had dropped the knife, so she used her foot to kick it away and then checked to see if he was finally dead.

  He wasn’t.

  Nothing is ever simple, thought Rose as she observed his labored breathing. Putting the stool down, she took up her dagger again and positioned it between his shoulder blades and to the left of his spine. Then she tried to push it through.

  Manfred jerked at the pain, causing her to leave a bloody cut across his back. Fear and adrenaline kicked in then, and Rose panicked. Stabbing and sobbing simultaneously, she finished off her previous associate. By the time she was sure he was dead, and everything was still once more, she was covered in blood.

  She didn’t want to move. Her nerves were a wreck and her stomach twisted rebelliously, but she couldn’t afford to waste time. Getting to her feet, she stood unsteadily for a moment, then stripped off her gown, dropping it on top of the corpse. In her wardrobe she found a clean linen shift and pulled it over her head, then studied herself in the mirror.

  With a towel and some water, she wiped away the spots of blood on her cheeks, then washed her hands, turning the water in the basin pink. Karen’s waiting, she thought.

  When she got to the door, she opened it and stepped outside. She’ll notice the body in the other room if she comes back within my privacy ward. It was something she hadn’t considered before. “Something has come up,” she told Karen quickly. “Go back to my city house for now. You can visit me late tonight.”

  Karen stared at her. “You changed clothes? I thought you were just going to talk to him for a minute.”

  Self-conscious, Rose realized she must look strange wearing the simple night gown. Her feet were bare, and she looked as though she was about to retire for the evening, even though it was still mid-afternoon. The conclusion Karen would draw was obvious.