Wren stood and smiled as he extended his hand. “With respect, three days from now I will be gone from this land, and hopefully I will never see it again.”
Ashlyn looked down at his proffered hand and pursed her lips. “I don’t shake hands with the help,” she said.
Wren chuckled. “Well, then I shall bid you farewell.”
Ashlyn nodded. “Pity you are leaving, Jack. I could use a man like you on my side. Perhaps we could end the war.”
“This war is far too big for one man, even one such as I,” Wren replied.
“Oh, don’t you worry about me, Jack. I have many men at my disposal. Kinow has served me well in the past, which is why I suggested he be the one to introduce us. I always have a few tricks up my sleeve, you can be sure of that.”
Wren gave a slight nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Very well. I shall be leaving now, I have details to clear up about a meeting I need to make sure takes place before my contact leaves the city,” Ashlyn said as she drew her white hood up over her head. “I doubt we shall meet again.”
Her guards moved in and surrounded her as Ashlyn exited through a rear door that led to a cellar.
“There’s a tunnel down there,” Kinow said as he rocked onto his heels. “Leads all the way out of the city and comes up in some farm house.”
Wren nodded. “I suppose they will collapse it behind them now.” He had a much better understanding of Ashlyn now, and why Master Driscal would bother to work with her. She was every bit as ruthless as Driscal, and just as cunning. Once she ascended to the throne, it would be disastrous if she had a man like Driscal working on secret weapons for her. Clever though she may be, her plans for Kresthin’s quick fall would hit a snag after Driscal turned up assassinated. The irony of the blue bottle lying in Wren’s palm danced through his thoughts and the assassin couldn’t keep from grinning
Kinow smiled wide. “My part is done, yes?”
“Yes, thank you. She was explicit about the fact that the meeting here had to be initiated by a well-known Merrynian soldier. Had I tried to approach her myself, her guards would have stopped the meeting long before it began.”
“So I guess this is goodbye then,” Kinow said. “I used up all of my leave days, and I have to be back at the front soon.”
Wren stuck out his hand. “May fortune smile upon you, I will leave a little extra gold in my home for you when you return.”
Kinow looked down at Wren’s hand. “Oh, I don’t shake the hands of assassins,” he said playfully.
“And the hand of a friend?” Wren asked. “I have so few of those.”
Kinow smiled and took the hand and shook it. “You say you are leaving me gold in your house, but I have no idea where you live. I have only been home a few weeks out of the last several years.”
“I’ll leave a map at your home,” Wren said. “It’s easy enough to find.”
Chapter 17
“How much do you think he’s getting paid for this job?” Hunlok asked Liden as they walked down one of the main streets of the market in Dreshire.
“More than any of us could make working together for a year in Ryr,” Debir responded. “Just to cover his expenses on this mission, the price must be steep!”
Liden nodded, but didn’t say anything. He was trying to get into character as a Merrynian nobleman. Their fake paperwork was stashed in a nearby pocket, but if what Wren said about nobility was right, he probably wouldn’t need it if they acted like they were above the officers they passed in the streets. Liden took in a deep breath, drew his shoulders back and stuck his nose up into the air and tried to glide rather than walk down the street.
He pointed down at a barrel of onions. “I want only the best,” he said to the man running the small stand.
“Yes, of course.” The man started searching through the onions. “How many?” He kept his head down and rolled some to the side.
“Three for now,” Liden responded, mimicking the accent Wren had had him practice.
The stand owner gathered three plump onions, brushed them off and held them up for inspection. “Those will do.” The man put them into a small basket and Liden dropped some coins into the man’s hand, sure that what he paid would more than cover the cost of a few onions.
“Thank you!” the man said, but Liden simply turned away and continued his noble glide down the street.
Between stores and stands, Hunlok shook his head in disbelief. “Onions? Really? Wren gave you enough coin to cover anything you might want to buy so you can pose as a nobleman, and you buy onions?”
“Nobles need to eat, don’t they?” Liden said.
Hunlok shrugged and gave a half-nod.
“If I got excited about having money and acted like it was my first time with coins in my pocket, I’d stand out like a hog at a wedding.”
Debir narrowed his eyes, “Did it have to be onions? That’s more like what a cook would buy.”
“Fine,” Liden said, shifting his stance, and dropping his accent for a moment. He didn’t like them ganging up on him, and when he looked down at his purchase choice, he couldn’t help but agree that it wasn’t his best effort. He pointed his nose up again and in a perfect Merrynian snobby accent asked, “What do you think a nobleman would buy?”
“Hmmm,” Debir looked around the market and rubbed his chin. His dark brown dyed hair still looked strange to Liden, but with the tight pastel blue pants and white shirt that puffed out from the shoulders to his elbows, his friend’s darkened hair was not the thing about him that stood out. “Something expensive, yet subtle,” he mused. He scanned over the market, looking carefully through the displays that lined the streets and the shop windows.
While Debir tried to decide where to browse, Liden also looked around, only he was searching for the man from Wren’s pictures. The streets here had many people, but he started looking for any obvious matches. He scanned quickly up and down the street, trying not to be too conspicuous, and as he did, nobody really stood out. He didn’t want to overlook the man they were hunting by dismissing the fact that he might be in disguise, but he also knew there was no way of giving serious scrutiny to every person mulling about in the market. He needed to assume that man was not trying to disguise himself, and not aware that he was being hunted.
“There,” Debir said, pointing out to the left. Liden looked in the direction Debir pointed a little too eagerly, hoping he had found the man they were looking for, but instead saw that he was pointing at a jewelry shop. “A golden ring would go nicely with this outfit, don’t you think?”
“I care not for such finery,” Liden said, turning away.
“He’d care for it if it smelled like onions,” Hunlok commented with a smirk. Debir stifled a laugh while pretending he was coughing. The three headed deeper into the market.
****
Sitting crossed-legged on the side of the street next to the church, Knell watched as the group of three noblemen passed by and walked to a small jewelry shop. She was a little irked that she was in beggar’s rags while they had more coins in their purses than she had ever seen, and nicer clothing than most people in the upper class in Ryr.
“What’s in Liden’s basket?” Sarta asked. “It looks like,” She stood up and craned her neck to see a little farther down the street. “Onions?”
“Are you serious?” Knell asked, dropping her face into her palm. “That fool stands out like a pig at a wedding!”
“That’s not a saying!” Sarta protested as she sat down next to her sister and held her hands out at a passerby who ignored her.
“Sure it is,” Knell argued.
“You and Liden are the only people who say that; that doesn’t make it a thing. You two are like a pair of lovesick turkeys. Jabba Jabba Jabba.” She pointed her hands inwards and opened and closed them quickly, mimicking two birds talking at each other.
Knell reached out like lightning, slapping Sarta on the back of the head. “Lovesick turkeys? That is definitely not
a thing!” Down the street someone moved through the crowds that looked like the man Wren had described. She leaned in and grabbed Sarta by the back of the neck, then in a harsh whisper she said, “When I let go of you, pretend I hurt you a little and take a look down the road to the right. I think we might have found the mark.”
Knell released her sister and Sarta grabbed her neck. “Ouch!” she swatted at Knell’s hand, then stood up and leaned out into the street a bit to take a look to her right. She came back and held her hands out to the people passing by going into the church. “Copper for some food?” she said with a pathetic look on her face. One woman dropped a small coin into her hand and she pulled it tight to her chest in a hug. “Thank ye ma’am!”
She stuffed the coin into a pocket that was sewn into her rags. “Nice show you’re putting on,” Knell said in sincerity.
“That’s not him,” Sarta reported. “No big ugly scar on his face.”
“Right. Well, we’d best keep our eyes open. If we miss anything, that stone of a man will have our hides!”
“You guys just don’t understand him,” Sarta argued.
“And you do?” Knell questioned.
“I actually like him.”
Knell rolled her eyes at her sister. “That’s because he’s the first person who doesn’t just ignore every other word you say because you’re ridiculous half the time.” Sarta scowled at her sister and sat down silently folding her arms across her chest.
For the next two hours, Knell took careful mental notes of all the men who went in and out of the church, but none was the man from Wren’s pictures. She hoped the boys were having better luck, but with what she did see of them, they were probably just getting lost in some fancy shops while buying whatever ridiculous thing came into their minds.
Without warning, Knell felt a dark, unseen chill fall over her as if something was very wrong. She looked over her shoulder, then again peered both directions down the street. Everything looked normal, but it was different. Something was off. She looked at the faces of the people coming from the church and those who passed by, then she met eyes with a single man standing in the streets staring right at her. He hadn’t been there a moment before, and now he stood still, dressed in a long, dark suit, holding her gaze even as the foot traffic passed by him. Noblemen were not supposed to condescend to making eye contact with beggars. Wren said they would be practically invisible to nobles, but this man did not look away, and what chilled her even more was his gray hair and the long purple scar on his left cheek. Other than his clothing, he perfectly fit Wren’s description of the target, and the way he looked at her said he knew why she was there. The man’s lips curled up in a wicked grin and he winked at Knell. What was happening?
“Hey pretty girl,” a voice came from behind them down the alley. Knell spun around and saw that three boys, all a little older than her, were closing in.
“Let’s go,” she said, pulling Sarta up to standing.
“Don’t think that’s an option,” Sarta responded, tapping on Knell’s arm. Knell turned to see what Sarta was talking about. The man from across the street was now talking with some officers and was pointing in their direction.
Knell dropped all pretense of being a lowly beggar and instead ran toward the boys. They looked shocked at first that she was coming their way, but quickly turned their surprise into sneers.
“She’s an eager one!” one of the boys said as he jabbed another in the side with his elbow.
When Knell was still a few feet away from the lead boy, she jumped up into the air to gain some more momentum. As she dropped, she hauled back her right hand as if to punch him, his hands went up to block the attack, but just as she came into range, she shot out a left jab that caught him by surprise, striking him under his right eye. His face instantly puffed up, and his guard dropped. Knell landed a second, more powerful punch with her right hand, using the force of her falling and twisting body. His nose broke and he dropped to his knees, grabbing at his face. She took a step up to him, grabbed the back of his head and kneed him in the face, dropping him unconscious to the ground. “Who’s next?” She stood on the balls of her feet with fists clenched, ready to take down the other two boys.
The two boys advanced cautiously forward, spreading out to try to surround her, but Sarta came up from behind, running past Knell at one of them. Knell darted to keep up with her sister. The boy’s eyes went wide, now being attacked by two girls. Sarta jumped at him feet first, slamming into him, but the boy, who easily outweighed her by three times, barely moved and Sarta fell down to the ground.
Knell dodged her fallen sister and lowered her shoulder to slam into the boy who again absorbed the hit without moving much. But now she was right up next to him and started a rapid attack of jabs, hitting pressure points, just like Wren had shown them, in his neck, arm, chest and finally kneeing him in the groin. The third boy grabbed Knell from behind, throwing his large arms around her body and crushing her to him. “Not going anywhere!”
“Let her go!” Sarta was panting and grunting as she punched and kicked at the boy, but his grip only tightened.
“Gouge out his eyes!” Knell tried to say with barely any air in her lungs. She doubted Sarta could hear what she said, but miraculously, the boy seemed to get the idea as he loosened his grip on Knell to raise one hand over his eye. Knell slammed down her heel on his toes. He screamed out in pain and she wrenched her head back, smashing him in the face. The third boy fell down, still crying out in pain.
“What’s happening over there?” a stern voice called from the opening of the alley. Knell turned and saw the officer with his hand on the pommel of his short sword. She looked in all directions, trying to find a way out of this trap.
She grabbed Sarta by the arm and ran down the alley away from the officer. Boots pounded on the street behind her, but she didn’t dare look back. When they came to the back of the alley, she skidded to a halt, seeing that officers were coming in from both sides. She spun around and saw that the man who was behind them was closing in fast.
“Flying Sprout!” She said, gripping her hands together. She stood in a stance, ready to throw her sister up to the ledge of the roof above her in an acrobatic move they had practiced.
“No,” Sarta said, shaking her head back and forth. “I’m not leaving you!”
“Come on!” Knell shook her hands up and down insistently. “There’s no time!”
Sarta spun around to face the officer with her hands balled up in fists. The fool girl thought she could take on a seasoned soldier alone!
Knell stepped up shoulder to shoulder with Sarta and they advanced on the officer. Sarta ducked low to kick at his feet, while Knell took a jab at his face. The man ducked to the side of Knell’s attack, but tripped over Sarta. “Run!” Before the word fully escaped her lips, Knell stopped moving and held her hands up in the air.
Three soldiers with crossbows trained on the girls now blocked their escape. To their right, the leader of this patrol of guards had now gotten to his feet and grabbed Knell in his right hand and Sarta in his left. “Take these Kresthinian spies out of my sight!”
*****
Hunlok held Liden’s arm, not letting him run into a death trap to free Sarta and Knell. When they arrived at the scene, Liden saw a tall man talking to a city guard and pointing in at the girls, then he vanished into the crowd. The man’s similarity to Wren’s target was undeniable, but after seeing the girls getting bound in shackles, all thoughts of his mission were thrown to the wind. He needed to get in there and help them. “We can’t win a fist fight with a patrol of trained guards,” Hunlok argued. “Remember, we’re not even supposed to be in the same area as them, that’s what we were told.”
“I don’t care what that idiot said. We need to do something!”
Debir stepped in front of Liden. “We will, but if we run in there attacking armed guards from behind, we’ll be a target for their bolts.”
When Liden’s blood had dropped a few degrees
below boiling, he stopped pulling against Hunlok’s grip. “Fine,” he relented. Hunlok let him go, but he noticed that the larger boy had also stepped in next to Debir, blocking him from running into the fray.
“Let’s think for a minute,” Debir said. “Wren got you out of the dungeon in Kyt by himself. Surely there’s a way for us to get them out.”
Liden nodded, liking the sound of that. He had seen what Wren did from inside the cell; he could mimic that escape, no problem. He rubbed his hands together, almost excited for this chance. Squaring his shoulders, he resumed his character. “Ghastly.” He gave a wave of his hand as if dusting away some refuse when the girls were dragged past in chains. He turned his back on them and began down the street in the opposite direction.
“Debir,” he whispered down to his companion. “Find out where they’re taking the girls. Hunlok, report to Wren what has happened. I think I might have seen the mark talking with some soldiers when they were closing in on the girls.”
Hunlok gasped. “Do you think he was part of this?”
“I don’t know.” Liden rubbed his hand across his forehead. “But either way that ruckus was enough to send anyone running. We’re not going to find him in the market now.”
“Meet back in an hour,” Debir said, then turned to leave.
Hunlok waited a fraction of a moment longer, hesitating to go make the report. “What’s wrong?”
“We failed another mission,” he replied. “What’s Wren going to do to us? Probably just leave us here in Merryn.”
Liden inhaled slowly, trying to think of a good response. His focus was on Knell and Sarta, not on what would happen after they got them out. “Here, give me your coins.” He held out his hand. “If Wren decides to abandon us here, we’ll use these to get back home.”
Hunlok pulled out the coins and handed them to Liden, who quickly dropped them in a pouch tied to his belt. “Should I tell him about our plan to save the girls?”
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