Arista presented him a pleasant smile. “The sun will rise tomorrow, Mr. Price. That is a fact. You have horrid breath and smell of horse manure. That is also a fact. Who will win this war, however, is still a matter of opinion, and I put no weight in yours.”
Price raised his eyebrows.
“She’s an ambassador and a woman,” Hadrian told him. “You’d be cut less fencing with a Pickering, and stand a better chance of winning.”
Price smiled and nodded.
Arista was unsure whether it was in approval or resentment; such was the face of thieves. “Who exactly are we going to see, or is that a secret?”
“Cosmos Sebastian DeLur, the wealthiest merchant in Avryn,” Royce replied. “Son of Cornelius DeLur of Delgos, who’s probably the richest man alive. Between the two of them, the DeLur family controls most of the commerce and lends money to kings and commoners alike. He runs the Black Diamond and goes by the moniker of the Jewel.”
Price’s hands twitched slightly.
As they reached the summit of the hill, the carriage turned into a long private brick road that ascended Bernum Heights, a sharply rising bluff that overlooked the river below. Protecting the palatial DeLur estate was a massive gate wider than three city streets, which opened at their approach. Elegantly dressed guards stood rigid while a stuffy administrative clerk with white gloves and a powdered wig marked their passing on a parchment. Then the carriage began its long serpentine ascent along a hedge- and lantern-lined lane. Unexpected breaks in the foliage revealed glimpses of an elegant garden with elaborate sculpted fountains. At the top of the bluff stood a magnificent white marble mansion. Three stories in height, it was adorned with an eighteen-pillar colonnade forming a half-moon entrance illuminated by a massive chandelier suspended at its center. This estate was built to impress, but what caught Arista’s attention was the huge bronze fountain of three nude women pouring pitchers of water into a pool.
A pair of gold doors were opened by two more impeccably dressed servants. Another man, dressed in a long dark coat, led the way into the vestibule, filled with tapestries and more sculptures than Arista had ever seen in one place. They were led through an archway outside to an expansive patio. Ivy-covered lattices lined an open-air terrace decorated with a variety of unusual plants and two more fountains—once more of nude women, only these were much smaller and wrought of polished marble.
“Good evening, Your Highness, gentlemen. Welcome to my humble home.”
Seated on a luxurious couch, a large man greeted them. He was not tall but of amazing girth. He looked to be in his early fifties and well on his way to going bald. He tied what little hair he had left with a black silk ribbon and let it fall in a tail down his back. His chubby face remained youthful, showing lines of age only at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, as he was doing now. He dressed in a silk robe and held a glass of wine, which threatened to spill as he motioned them over.
“Duster, how long has it been, my old friend? I can see now that I should have made you First Officer when I had the chance. It would have saved so much trouble for the both of us. Alas, but I couldn’t see it then. I hope we can put all that unpleasantness behind us now.”
“My business was settled the day Hoyte died,” Royce replied. “Judging from our reception, I would say it was the Diamond that was having trouble putting the past behind them.”
“Quite right, quite right.” Cosmos chuckled. Arista determined he was the kind of man who laughed the way other people twitched, stammered, or bit their nails. “You won’t let me get away with anything, will you? That’s good. You keep me honest—well, as honest as a man in my profession can be.” He chuckled again. “It’s that pesky legend that keeps the guild on edge. You’re quite the bogeyman. Not that Mr. Price here buys into any of that, you understand, but it’s his responsibility to keep the organization running smoothly. Allowing you to stroll about town is like letting a man-eating tiger meander through a crowded tavern. As the tavern keeper, they expect me to maintain the peace.”
Cosmos motioned toward Price with his goblet. “You knew Mr. Price only briefly when you were still with us, I think. A pity. You would like him if you met under different circumstances.”
“Who said I didn’t like him?”
Cosmos laughed. “You don’t like anyone, Duster, with the exception of Hadrian and Miss DeLancy, of course. There are only those you put up with and those you don’t. By the mere fact that I’m here, I can at least deduce I’m not on your short list.”
“Short list?”
“I can’t imagine your slate of targets stays full for very long.”
“We both have lists. Names get added and names get erased all the time. It would appear Price added me to yours.”
“Consider it erased, my friend. Now tell me, what can I get you to drink? Montemorcey? You always had a fondness for the best. I have a vintage stock in the cellar. I’ll have a couple bottles brought up.”
“That’d be fine,” Royce replied.
Cosmos gave a slight glance to his steward, who bowed abruptly and left. “I hope you don’t mind meeting in my little garden. I do so love the night air.” Closing his eyes and tilting his head up, he took a deep breath. “I don’t manage to get out nearly as often as I would like. Now please sit and tell me about this offer you bring.”
They took seats opposite Cosmos on elaborate cushioned benches, the span between taken up by an ornate table whose legs were fashioned to look like powerful snakes, each different from the next, facing out with fanged mouths open. Behind them Arista could hear the gurgling of fountains and the late breeze shifting foliage. Below that was the deeper, menacing roar of the Bernum River, hidden from view by the balcony.
“It’s more of a proposition, really,” Royce replied. “The princess here has a problem you might be able to help with, and you have a problem she may be able to solve.”
“Wonderful, wonderful. I like how this is starting. If you had said you were offering me the chance of a lifetime, I would have been doubtful, but arrangements of mutual benefit show you’re being straightforward. I like that, but you were always blunt, weren’t you, Duster? You could afford to lay your cards on the table, because you always had such excellent cards.”
A servant with white gloves identical to those worn by the gate clerk arrived and silently poured the wine, then withdrew to a respectful distance. Cosmos waited politely for them each to take a taste.
“Montemorcey is one of the finest vineyards in existence, and my cellar has some of their very best.”
Royce nodded his praise.
Hadrian sniffed the dark red liquid skeptically, then swallowed the contents in a single mouthful. “Not bad for old grape juice.”
Cosmos laughed once more. “Not a wine drinker. I should have known. Wine is no potable for a warrior. Gibbons, bring Hadrian a pull from the Oak Cask and leave the head on it. That should be more to your liking. Now, Duster, tell me about our mutual problems?”
“Your problem is obvious. You don’t like this New Empire crowding you.”
“Indeed, I do not. They’re everywhere and spreading. For each one you see in uniform, you can expect three more you don’t. Tavern keepers and blacksmiths are secretly working for the Imperialists, passing information. It’s impossible to run a proper guild as extensive and elaborate as the Black Diamond in such a restrictive environment. There is even evidence they have spies in the Diamond itself, which is most unsettling.”
“I also happen to know that Degan Gaunt is your boy.”
“Well, not mine, per se.”
“Your father’s, then. Gaunt is supported by Delgos, Tur Del Fur is the capital of Delgos, and your father is the ruler of Tur Del Fur.”
Cosmos laughed again. “No, not the ruler. Delgos is a republic, remember. He’s but one of a triumvirate of businessmen elected to lead the government.”
“Ah-huh.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“It doesn’t matter
. The DeLurs are backing Gaunt in the hopes of breaking the empire, so something that might help Gaunt would help you as well.”
“True, true, and what are you bringing me?”
“An alliance with Melengar. The princess here is empowered to negotiate on behalf of her brother.”
“Word has it Melengar is helpless and about to fall to Ballentyne’s Northern Imperial Army.”
“Word is mistaken. The empress recalled the northern army to deal with the Nationalists. We passed it near Fallon Mire. Only a token force remains to watch the Galewyr River. The army moves slowly but it’ll reach Aquesta before Gaunt does. That will tip the scales in favor of the empire.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Royce looked at Arista, indicating that she should speak now.
Arista set down her glass and gathered her thoughts as best she could. She was still befuddled from the day’s ride and now the wine on an empty stomach caused her head to fog. She took a short breath and focused.
“Melengar still has a defensive force,” the princess began. “If we use it to attack across the river and break into Chadwick, there would be nothing to stop us from sweeping across into Glouston. Once there, Marquis Lanaklin could raise an army from his loyal subjects and together we could march on Colnora. We can catch the empire in a vise with Melengar pushing from the north and the Nationalists from the south. The empire would have to either recommit the northern army, leaving the capital to Gaunt, or let us sweep across northern Warric unopposed.”
Cosmos said nothing, but there was a smile on his face. He took a drink of his wine and sat back to consider their words.
“All we need you to do”—Royce spoke again—“is to set up a meeting between Gaunt and the princess.”
“Once a formal agreement is struck between the Nationalists and Melengar,” Arista explained, “I can take that to Trent. With the Nationalists on Aquesta’s doorstep, and my brother ravaging northern Warric, Trent will be more than happy to join us. And with their help, the New Empire will be swept back into history, where it belongs.”
“You paint a lovely picture, Your Highness,” Cosmos said. “But is it possible for Melengar to break out of Medford? Will Lanaklin be able to raise a force quickly enough to fend off any counterattack the empire sends? I suspect you would say yes to both, but without the conviction that comes from knowing. Fortunately, these are not my concerns so much as they’re yours. I’ll contact Gaunt’s people and arrange a meeting. It’ll take a few days, however, and in the meantime it’s not safe for you to stay in Colnora.”
“What do you mean?” Royce asked.
“As I said, I fear it’s possible the guild has been compromised. Mr. Price tells me imperial scouts were on hand when you passed through the gate, so it would only be wishful thinking to suppose your visit here was not observed. Given the situation, it’ll not take a genius to determine what’s happening. The next logical step will be to eliminate the threat. And, Duster, you’re not the only Diamond alumnus passing through Warric.”
Royce’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Cosmos and studied the fat man carefully. Cosmos said nothing more on the subject, and strangely, Royce did not inquire further.
“We’ll leave immediately,” Royce said abruptly. “We’ll head south into Rhenydd, which will carry us closer to Gaunt. I’ll expect you to contact us with the meeting’s place and time in three days. If by the morning of the fourth day we don’t hear from you, we’ll find our own way to Gaunt.”
“If you don’t hear from me by then, things will be very bad indeed,” Cosmos assured them. “Gibbons, see that they have whatever is needed for travel. Price, arrange for them to slip out of town unnoticed, and get that message to Gaunt’s people. Will you need to send a message back to Medford?” Cosmos asked the princess.
She hesitated briefly. “Not until I’ve reached an agreement with Gaunt. Alric knows the tentative plan and has already begun preparing the invasion.”
“Excellent,” Cosmos said, standing up and draining his glass. “What a pleasure it is to work with professionals. Good luck to all of you and may fortune smile upon us. Just remember to watch your back, Duster. Some ghosts never die.”
“Your horses and gear will be taken to Finlin’s windmill by morning,” Price told them as he rapidly led them out through the rear of the patio. His long gangly legs gave him the appearance of a wayward scarecrow fleeing across a field. Noticing Arista had trouble keeping up, he paused for her to catch her breath. “However, you three will be leaving by boat down the Bernum tonight.”
“There’ll be a watch on the Langdon and the South Bridge,” Royce reminded him.
“Armed with crossbows and hot pitch, I imagine,” Price replied, grinning. His face looked even more skull-like in the darkness. “But no worries, arrangements have been made.”
The Bernum started as a series of tiny creeks that cascaded from Amber Heights and the Senon Uplands. They converged, creating a swift-flowing river that cut through a limestone canyon, forming a deep gorge. Eventually it spilled over Amber Falls. The drop took the fight out of the water, and from there on the river flowed calmly through the remaining ravine that divided the city. This put Colnora at the navigable headwater of the Bernum—the last stop for goods coming up the river, and a gateway for anyone traveling to Dagastan Bay.
After Arista had regained her breath, Price resumed rushing them along at a storm’s pace. They ducked under a narrow ivy-covered archway and passed through a wooden gate, which brought them to the rear of the estate. A short stone wall, only a little above waist high, guarded the drop to the river gorge. Looking down, she could see only darkness, but across the expanse she could make out points of light and the silhouette of buildings. Price directed them to an opening and the start of a long wooden staircase.
“Our neighbor, Bocant, the pork mogul, has his six-oxen hoist,” Price said, motioning to the next mansion over. Arista could just make out a series of cables and pulleys connected to a large metal box. Two lanterns, one hung at the top and another at the bottom, revealed the extent of the drop, which appeared to be more than a hundred feet. “But we have to make do with our more traditional, albeit more dangerous, route. Try not to fall. The steps are steep and it’s a long way down.”
The stairs were indeed frightening—a plummeting zigzag of planks and weathered beams bolted to the cliff’s face. It looked like a diabolical puzzle of wood and rusting metal, which quaked and groaned the moment they stepped on it. Arista was certain she felt it sway. Memories of a tower collapsing while she clutched on to Royce flooded back to her. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the handrail with a sweaty palm and descended, sandwiched between Royce and Hadrian.
A narrow dock sat at the bottom and a shallow-draft rowboat banged dully against it with the river’s swells. A lantern mounted on the bow illuminated the area with a yellow flicker.
“Put that damn light out, you fools!” Price snapped at the two men readying the craft.
A quick hand snuffed out the lantern and Arista’s eyes adjusted to the moonlight. From previous trips to Colnora, she knew that the river was as congested as Main Street on Hospitality Row during the day, but in the dark it lay empty, the vast array of watercraft bobbing at various piers.
When the last of the supplies were aboard, Price returned their weapons. Hadrian strapped his on and Royce’s white-bladed dagger disappeared into the folds of his cloak. “In you go,” Price told them, putting one foot on the gunwale to steady the boat. A stocky, shirtless boatman stood in the center of the skiff and directed them to their seats.
“Which one of ya might be handy with a tiller?” he asked.
“Etcher,” Price said, “why don’t you take the tiller?”
“I’m no good with a boat,” the wiry youth with a thin mustache and goatee replied as he adjusted the lay of the gear.
“I’ll take the rudder,” Hadrian said.
“And grateful I am to you, sir,” the boatman greeted him cheeri
ly. “Name’s Wally … You shouldn’t need to use it much. I can steer fine with just the oars, but in the current it’s sometimes best not ta paddle a’tall. All ya needs to do is keep her in the center of the river.”
Hadrian nodded. “I can do that.”
“But of course you can, sir.”
Royce held Arista’s hand as she stepped aboard and found a seat beside Hadrian on a shelf of worn planking. Royce followed her and took up position near the bow next to Etcher.
“When did you order the supplies brought down?” Royce asked Price, who still stood with his foot on the rail.
“Before returning to pick you up at The Regal Fox. I like to stay ahead of things.” He winked. “Duster, you might remember Etcher here from the Langdon Bridge last time you were in Colnora. Don’t hold that against him. Etcher volunteered to get you safely to the mills when no one else cared for the idea. Now off you go.” Price untied the bowline and shoved them out into the black water.
“Stow those lines, Mr. Etcher, sir,” Wally said as he waited until they cleared the dock to lock the two long oars into place. With each stroke, the oars creaked quietly, and the skiff glided into the river’s current.
The boatman sat backward as he pulled on the oars. Little effort was required as the current propelled them downstream. Wally pulled on one side or the other, correcting their course as needed. Occasionally he stroked both together, to keep them moving slightly faster than the water’s flow.
“Blast,” Wally cursed softly.
“What is it?” Hadrian asked.
“The lantern went out on the Bocant dock. I use it to steer by. Just my luck, any other night they leave it on. They use that hoisting contraption to unload boats. Sometimes the barges are late rounding the point, and in the darkness that lantern is their marker. They never know when the barges will arrive, so they usually just leave it on all night and—oh wait, it’s back. Must have just blown out or something.”
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