Royce shook his head. “I’m happy to say I haven’t seen him. Is that why you’re in town?”
“Not really. I’m sure he can find me, wherever I am. After all, he found us in Colnora when he wanted us to come to Dahlgren. I’m on my way to see Myron at the abbey. If anyone knows about the history of the heir, he does. I also had to drop off a letter to Alric.”
“A letter?”
“When I was stuck in Colnora during the siege, your old friends helped get me out.”
“The Diamond?”
Hadrian nodded. “Price arranged for me to slip away one night in exchange for delivering the letter. He preferred risking my neck rather than one of his boys.”
“What did it say? Who was it from?”
Hadrian shrugged. “How would I know?”
“You didn’t read it?” he asked incredulously.
“No, it was for Alric.”
“Let me see it.”
“Can’t. I dropped it off at the castle on the way in.”
Royce dropped his face into his hands. “Sometimes, I just…” Royce shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“What’s wrong?” Gwen asked, joining them.
“Hadrian’s an idiot,” Royce replied, his voice muffled by his hands.
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Thank you, Gwen. See, at least she appreciates me.”
“So, Hadrian, tell me about Ratibor. Royce told me about the rebellion. How did it go?” Gwen asked with an excited smile.
“Emery was killed. Do you know who he was?”
Gwen nodded.
“So were a lot of others, but we took the city.”
“And Arista?”
“She survived the fight, but took the aftermath hard. She’s become something of a heroine there. They put her in charge of the whole kingdom.”
“She’s a remarkable woman,” Gwen said. “Don’t you think so, Hadrian?” Before he could answer, a loud crash from the kitchen made her sigh. “Excuse me while I help Dixon.”
She started to stand but Royce reached his feet first and motioned her to stay. “Sit,” he said, kissing the crown of her head. “I’ll help him. You two get caught up.”
Gwen looked surprised but simply said, “Thank you.”
Royce hurried off, shouting in an unusually good-natured tone, “Dixon! What’s taking you so long? You’ve still got one hand, haven’t you?”
Gwen and Hadrian both laughed, mirroring surprised expressions.
“So, what’s new around here?” Hadrian asked.
“Not a whole lot. Albert came by last week with a job from a nobleman to place the earrings of a married woman in the bedchambers of a priest, but Royce declined it.”
“Really? He loves plant jobs. And a noble? That’s just easy money.”
She shrugged. “I think with you retired, he’s—”
Outside, an approaching clatter of hooves halted abruptly. A moment later a man with a distinct limp, dressed as a royal courier, entered the tavern. He paused at the doorway, looking puzzled.
“Can I help you?” Gwen asked, as she stood.
“I have a message from His Majesty for the Royal Protectors. I was told they were here.”
“I’ll take that,” Gwen said, stepping forward.
The courier stiffened and shook his head. “It is for the Royal Protectors only.”
Gwen halted and Hadrian noticed her annoyed expression.
“You must be new,” Hadrian addressed the courier, rising to his feet. “I’m Hadrian Blackwater.”
The courier nodded smartly and pulled a waxed scroll from his satchel. He handed over the dispatch and departed. Hadrian sat back down and broke the falcon seal.
“It’s a job, isn’t it?” Gwen’s expression darkened and she stared at the floor.
“It’s nothing. Alric just wants to see us,” Hadrian said. She looked up, her eyes revealing a troubled mix of emotions Hadrian could not decipher. “Gwen, what’s wrong?” he pressed, his voice softening.
At length she replied, almost in a whisper, “Royce asked me to marry him.”
Hadrian sat back in his chair. “Seriously?”
She nodded and added hastily, “I guess he thought that since you retired from Riyria, he would, too.”
“That’s—why, that’s wonderful!” Hadrian burst out as he leaped to his feet and hugged her. “Congratulations! He didn’t even say anything. We’ll be like family! It’s about time he got around to this. I would have asked for your hand myself years ago, except I knew if I did I’d wake up dead the next morning.”
“When he asked me it was as if—well, as if a wish I never dared ask had come true. So many problems solved, so much pain eased. Honestly, I didn’t think he ever would.”
Hadrian nodded. “That’s only because he’s not only an idiot, he’s blind as well.”
“No. I mean, well—he’s Royce.”
“Isn’t that what I just said? But I know what you’re saying. He’s really not the marrying type, is he? Clearly, you’ve had tremendous influence on him.”
“You have, too,” she said, reaching out and taking hold of his hand. “There are times I hear him say things I know come from you. Things like responsibility and regret, words that were never part of his vocabulary before. I wonder if he even knows where he found them. When I first met you two he was so withdrawn, so guarded.”
Hadrian nodded. “He has trust issues.”
“But he’s learning. His life has been so hard. I know it has. Abandoned and betrayed by those who should have loved him. He doesn’t talk about it, at least not to me. But I know.”
Hadrian shook his head. “Me either. Occasionally something might come up, but he usually avoids mentioning anything about his past. I think he’s trying to forget.”
“He’s built so many defenses, but every year it’s as if another wall has fallen. He even summoned the courage to tell me he’s part elven. His fortress is dissolving, and I can see him peering out of it at me. He wants to be free. This is the next step—and I am so proud of him.”
“When will the wedding be?”
“We were thinking in a couple of weeks at the monastery, so Myron can preside. But we’ll have to postpone, won’t we?”
“Why do you say that? Alric just wants to see us, it doesn’t mean—”
“He needs the two of you for a job,” Gwen interrupted.
“No. He might want us, but we’re retired. I have other things to do and Royce…well, Royce needs to start a new life—with you.”
“You’ll take it, and you must take Royce with you,” her voice was filled with sadness and a sense of regret, emotions so unlike her.
Hadrian smiled. “Listen, I can’t think of anything Alric could say that would get me to go, but if he does, I’ll do the job on my own—as a wedding present. We don’t even have to tell Royce the courier was here.”
“No!” she burst out. “He has to go. If he doesn’t, you’ll die.”
Hadrian’s first impulse was to laugh, but that thought evaporated when he saw her face. Nevertheless, he tried to lighten the strain he found there. “I’m not as easy to kill as all that, you know?” He winked at her.
“I’m from Calis, Hadrian, and I know what I’m talking about.” Her gaze drifted off toward the windows, but her eyes were unfocused, as if seeing another place. “I can’t be the one responsible for your death. The life we would have after…” She shook her head. “No, he must go with you,” she repeated firmly.
Hadrian was not convinced but knew there was no reason to argue further. Gwen was not the type for debate. Most women he knew invited discussion and even enjoyed arguments, but not Gwen. There was clarity to her thinking that let you know she had already made her own journey to the inevitable conclusion and was just politely waiting there for you to join her. In her own way, she was much like Royce—except for the polite waiting.
“With you two gone, I’ll have time to organize a first-rate wedding,” she said,
her voice strained and she blinked frequently. “It will take that long just to decide what color dress a former prostitute should wear.”
“You know something, Gwen,” Hadrian began, as he reached out and took her hand. “I’ve known a lot of women, but I’ve met only two I admire. Royce is a very lucky man.”
“Royce is a man on the edge,” she replied thoughtfully. “He’s seen too much cruelty and betrayal. He’s never known mercy.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “You have to do this, Hadrian. You have to be the one to show him mercy. If you can do that, I know it will save him.”
***
Royce and Hadrian entered Essendon Castle’s courtyard, once the site of Princess Arista’s witch trial. Nothing remained of that unfortunate day except a slightly raised patch of ground where the stake and woodpile had stood. It had been just three years ago, and the weather had been turning cold then too. It was a different time. Amrath Essendon was king, and the New Empire was little more than a dream of the Imperialists.
The guards at the gate nodded and smiled at them.
“I hate that,” Royce muttered as they passed.
“What?”
“They didn’t even think to stop us, and they actually smiled. They know us by sight now—by sight. Alric used to have the decency to send word discreetly and receive us unannounced. Now, uniformed soldiers knock on the door in daylight waving and saying, ‘Hello, we have a job for you.’”
“He didn’t wave.”
“Give it time, he will be—waving and grinning. One day Jeremy will be buying drinks for his soldier buddies at The Rose and Thorn. They’ll all be there, the entire sentry squad, laughing, smiling, throwing their arms over our shoulders and asking us to sing Calide Portmore with them—‘once more with gusto!’ And at some point one particularly sweaty ox will give me a hug and say how honored he is to be in our company.”
“Jeremy?”
“What? That’s his name.”
“You know the name of the soldier at the gate?”
Royce scowled. “You see my point? Yes, I know his name and they know ours. We might as well wear uniforms and move into Arista’s old room.”
They climbed the stone steps to the main entrance, where a soldier quickly opened a door for them and gave a slight bow. “Master Melborn, Master Blackwater.”
“Hey, Digby.” Hadrian waved as he passed and caught Royce scowling. “Sorry.”
“It’s a good thing we’re both retired. You know, there’s a reason there are no famous living thieves.”
Hadrian’s heels echoed on the polished floor of the corridor as they walked. Royce’s footsteps made no sound at all. They crossed the west gallery past the suits of armor and the ballroom. The castle appeared as empty as the rest of the city. As they approached the reception hall, Hadrian spotted Mauvin Pickering heading their way. The young noble looked thinner than Hadrian remembered. There was a hollow cast to his cheeks, a shadow beneath his eyes, but his hair was the same wild mess.
“About time,” Mauvin greeted them. “Alric just sent me to look for you.”
Two years had passed since his brother Fanen’s death, and Mauvin still wore black. The haunted look in his eyes would be unnoticeable to most. Only those who had known him before the contest in Dahlgren would see the difference. That was where Sentinel Luis Guy had attacked Hadrian with a force of Seret Knights, and Mauvin and Fanen took up arms with him. The brothers had fought masterfully, as was the nature of Pickerings. Yet Mauvin had been unable to save his brother from the killing stroke. Before that day, Mauvin Pickering had been bright, loud, and joyful with a permanent smile and a wink that challenged the world. Now, he stood with his shoulders slumped and his chin dipped.
“You’re wearing it again?” Hadrian gestured toward Mauvin’s sword.
“They insisted.”
“Have you drawn it?”
Mauvin looked at his feet. “Dad says it doesn’t matter. If the need arises, he’s certain I won’t hesitate.”
“And what do you think?”
“Mostly I try not to.” Mauvin opened the doors to the hall and let them swing wide. He led them past the clerk and the door guards into the reception hall. Tall windows let in the late morning light, casting bright spears on the parquet floor. The great tapestries still laid rolled in bundles against the wall, stacked in hope of a better day. In their places, maps with red lines covered by blue arrows pointing south, plastered the walls.
Alone, Alric paced near the windows, his crowned head bowed and his mantle trailing behind him like—like a king, Hadrian thought. Alric looked up as they entered and pushed the rim of the royal diadem back with his thumb.
“What took you so long?”
“We ate breakfast, Your Majesty,” Royce replied.
“You ate break—never mind.” The king held out a rolled parchment. “I’m told you delivered this dispatch to the castle this morning?”
“Not me,” Royce said. Unrolling it, he found two parchments and began reading.
“I did,” Hadrian admitted. “I just arrived from Ratibor. Your sister has matters well in hand, Your Majesty.”
Alric scowled. “Who sent this?”
“I’m not sure,” Hadrian replied. “I got it from a man named Price in Colnora.”
Royce finished reading and looked up. “I think you’re about to lose this war,” he said, without bothering to add the expected Your Majesty.
“Don’t be absurd. This is likely a hoax. Ecton is probably behind it. He enjoys seeing me make a fool of myself. Even if it is authentic, it’s simply someone making wild claims to extort a bit of gold from the New Empire.”
“I don’t think so.” Royce handed the letter to Hadrian.
King Alric,
Found this on a courier traveling from Calis to Aquesta. Sweepers bumped him in Alburn but he was more than he seemed. Three Diamonds dead. Bucketmen caught him and found this letter addressed to the Regents. The Jewel thought you’d like to know.
Esteemed Regents,
The fall of Ratibor was unexpected and unfortunate, but as you know, not fatal. Thus far, I have delivered Degan Gaunt and eliminated the wizard Esrahaddon. This completes two-thirds of our contract, but the best is yet to come.
The Emerald Storm rests anchored in Aquesta Harbor, ready to sail. When you receive this message, place the payment on board along with the sealed orders I left. Once loaded, the ship will depart, the fortunes of war will shift, and your victory will be assured. With the Nationalists eliminated, Melengar is yours for the taking.
While I have all the time in the world, you, on the other hand, might wish to make haste, lest the flame you call the New Empire be snuffed out.
Merrick Marius
“Merrick?” Hadrian muttered and looked at Royce. “Is this…?”
Royce nodded.
“You know this Marius?” Alric asked.
Again, Royce nodded. “Which is why I know you’re in trouble.”
“And do you know who sent this?”
“Cosmos DeLur.”
“Isn’t Cosmos a wealthy merchant in Colnora?”
“He’s also the leader of the thieves’ guild known as the Black Diamond.”
Alric paused to consider this, taking the opportunity to pace once more. “Why would he send this to me?”
“The Diamond wants the Imps out of Colnora. I guess with Gaunt gone, Cosmos thought you could make the best use of this information.”
Alric stroked his beard thoughtfully. “So, who is this Merrick fellow? How do you know him?”
“We were friends when I was a member of the Diamond.”
“Excellent. Find him and ask what this is all about.”
Royce shook his head. “I have no idea where Merrick is, and we’re not on good terms anymore. He won’t tell me anything.”
Alric sighed. “I don’t care what kind of terms you’re on. Find him, resolve your differences, and get me the information I need.”
“I killed the woman he loved, a
nd he arranged for me to be sent to Manzant. So I don’t think that will happen.”
Alric stopped pacing and stared. “Manzant Prison? But no one ever leaves Manzant.”
“That was the plan. I was happy to disappoint him. Nowadays, we have an unspoken agreement to stay out of each other’s way.”
“I don’t like this ‘Melengar is yours for the taking’ business. I’m sure it’s just a boast, but what do you think he means by that?”
“Merrick does not boast. If he says he can turn the war in the empire’s favor, he can. I suggest you take this seriously.” Royce thought a moment. “If I were you, I’d send someone to deliver this message and then stow away on this ship and see where it leads.”
“Fine. Do that, and let me know what you find out.”
“Your Majesty, we’re retired. Only a week ago I came here and explained how—”
“Don’t be ridiculous! You said to take his threat seriously, which is why I need my best—and that means you.”
“Pick someone else,” Royce said firmly.
“All right, how much do you want? It’s land this time, right? Fine. As it happens, the Baron Milborough of Three Fords was killed in battle a few weeks ago. He doesn’t have any sons, so I’ll grant you his estate if you succeed. Land, title—all of it.”
“I don’t want land. I don’t want anything. I’m retired. ”
“By Mar, man!” Alric exclaimed. “The future of the kingdom may depend on this! I’m the king and—”
Hadrian interrupted. “I’ll do it.”
“What?” Alric and Royce asked together.
“I said, I’ll go.”
***
him. No
“You can’t take this job,” Royce told him, as they walked back to The Rose and Thorn.
“I have to. If Esrahaddon is dead, Merrick is my only chance to find Gaunt. Do you think he really could have done it?”
“Merrick wouldn’t lie to a client about a job.”
“But Esrahaddon was a wizard. He’s survived a thousand years—I can’t imagine he could be murdered by a common killer.”
“I just said it was Merrick. He’s not common.”
As the two walked through an empty Gentry Square, even the bells of Mares Cathedral were silent. Hadrian sighed. “Then I’m on my own in finding the heir now. If I follow the payment to Merrick, I’ll be halfway to finding Gaunt.”
Emerald Storm Page 4