Deathspell

by Peter Dawes

  “Wherever is safe,” he said. I felt the tickle of his stubble on my lips when he leaned in and kissed me. His warm breath hit my face when he spoke. “Whatever you want to do with that book is what you want to do. I don’t care. Take it with us, si? Learn more about it and maybe – maybe – much later we can find these men again, when we can be better prepared. Right now, it is too sudden and too dangerous.”

  “Do you mean that?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

  He nodded, managing a small quirk of his lips. “If it will get you somewhere safe, then yes, amico mio, I will promise you that.”

  While summoning the agreement seemed beyond me in words, the glower I gave him told him all he needed to know. Paolo kissed me again, and as I shut my eyes to return the embrace, I found my thoughts elsewhere, a rare occurrence with my lips so involved. ‘I’m not nearly as scared as you are,’ I thought to myself. ‘Perhaps not as much as much as even I should be.’ Still, I didn’t have the heart to discourage him. Especially when he pulled away to gather our discarded clothing.

  Even lacking the ability to issue an objection, I still couldn’t deny my general state of being as I watched him hustle around the room. “I’ve barely had two winks of sleep in days,” I said.

  “Their first thought will be to come here,” Paulo said. “If we ride north, we can stop along the way for sleep.”

  He handed me my clothing, waiting until I took it before reaching for his garments. I sighed and started to dress, lying flat on the bed until my trousers were secure and sitting upright to pull my shirt over my head. He was already half dressed by the time I reached for my boots. I slid them on, shooting him a casual glance as he fussed with his own shirt. “Are we to steal our horses from Roland?” A sly grin curled the corners of my mouth.

  Paolo scoffed. “He would owe it to us, but no. I will leave money behind if I must.”

  “Perhaps I’ll add an extra few coins to ensure he doesn’t point the Luminaries to us.”

  When Paolo glanced up at me, raising an eyebrow, I sighed. “Sir Lawrence shared that bit of information with me,” I explained. “They also have some leader named Talbot, but sadly, I killed Lawrence before I could learn much about him.” Discussing the matter further threatened to leave a foul taste in my mouth. I finished putting on my boots in silence and slipped on an overshirt before reaching for my cloak. “Whatever the matter, my father’s killers have a name.”

  As I secured the cloak into place, the pensive frown on my lover’s face deepened. He reached for his coin purse, avoiding my gaze as he did. “I will explain everything to Roland,” he said. “Stay hidden in here or meet me in the stables.” Bustling along without waiting for my response, Paolo opened the door and spirited into the hallway, his own cloak in hand. I found myself grateful he didn’t see my expression as he departed, or force me to reassert my commitment to our departure. As it was, it took a few moments before I could summon the wherewithal to start packing.

  Reaching for the spell back and my satchel, I slipped the tome inside and dug around for a spare shirt and pair of pants. The room still looked like a mess, the bed disheveled and the rest of our personal effects left discarded, causing me to wonder if this is how it had been when he left Verona. “Bloody hell,” I breathed, attempting not to envision a younger version of Paolo tossing his belongings into a bag and racing off toward an uncertain future. It only threatened to add another item to a pile of mounting second guesses. Casting a quick glance toward the still-opened door, I threw my bag’s strap over my head and strode from the room.

  Surely, there had to be another way.

  Bounding down the stairs, I didn’t care if my heavy footfalls announced my presence before the crowd of usual suspects. Half expecting that Paolo was already engaged in discussion with Roland, I prepared to march up to the table to intervene. When I reached the first floor, however, I saw Paolo positioned behind one of the support beams, as if hiding from something. Cautiously, I crossed the distance between us and whispered, “What is it?”

  Before he could answer, however, a sound pierced through the crowd which caused me to startle. It was a woman’s laugh, but something about it sent a chill of dread up my spine while forcing my attention toward its source. There she sat, across from Roland, wearing a maroon gown and a cream-colored chemise, a hat perched atop a sea of dark locks, casting a partial shadow across her face. The carefree way my employer entertained her alarmed me almost as much as her presence, while still paling in comparison. It was her, the woman who had seen me kill Sir Lawrence in Exeter. Jane.

  I felt my blood run cold as I hid behind Paolo. He cast a glance back at me and I gripped onto his shoulder as though offering a word of caution. Be quiet. In my periphery, I saw him furrow his brow at whatever expression must have taken up residence on my face. “Is that her?” he asked, mirroring my whisper, and I responded only with a nod, my heart racing and my palms turning sweaty. For as much as fortune had suddenly left me destitute, it vanished altogether the moment she turned her head and lined me in her sights.

  A slow grin curled the corner of her lips. She glanced back at Roland, and flicked a hand in my direction, causing me to curse my existence more and more with every second that passed. “There he is right now,” she said, speaking the words loud enough for it to carry, even though they were intended for Roland. His gaze shifted toward me and a look of surprise flickered past his eyes, telling me all I needed to know about how damned I was.

  Weighing what I should do, I found myself frozen between the impulse to run and that part of me wishing to stand my ground. Jane settled the dilemma with her next words. “It would seem I haven’t wasted my journey after all,” she said, her smile broadening. Her gaze found mine again, past the barrier of my shorter lover, penetrating through me as though to catch me in a spider’s web. I paled and gripped onto Paolo harder, as if to brace myself against the impact.

  “Please, ask him to come and join us, Master Roland. I would like to thank him myself.”

  Chapter Ten

  I had a split second to determine what my next course of action should be. While Jane had never appeared to be a scared waif, the woman who sat opposite from Roland bore enough of a regal air to suggest she had been vindicated somehow. This could mean I was truly being thanked, or might indicate just as much of a trap lying in wait as I feared. And the expression on Roland’s face gave me no indication whether I should run or play the ruse. “Buy us time, amico mio,” Paolo whispered, breaking me out of my stupor. “I will go ready the horses.”

  Slowly, I nodded, as though he could see the action with his back to me. My grip on his shoulder relented, my arm falling to my side. “Very well, then,” I said, punctuating my words with a deep breath inward, intended to steady my nerves. My first steps forward bore caution, which took until halfway across the floor to abate. Jane and Roland watched in silence, until I paused a short distance away and nodded toward the noble lady.

  She nodded in return. Roland remained seated while Jane came to a stand, extending her hand and allowing me to place a kiss on the back of her palm. “Milady,” I said. “I heard talk of thanks, but confess I’m not certain what I should be thanked for.”

  Jane smiled and slowly lowered into her chair, the gesture bearing a striking amount of comfort given her station. The contrast of that against the setting knocked me enough from the throes of shock to steal a glance around. While the main entrance still bore a host of familiar faces, with none who stopped Paolo on his way out, I spotted a few men poised around the room I didn’t recognize. Fighting against a frown, I glanced back at her in time to see her chuckle. “I think your employer might beg to differ after the story I just told him,” she said. Her gaze shifted up toward me. “Sit and join us, Christian. That is your name, right?”

  Roland nodded when Jane peered at him for verification. I struggled to maintain an even expression, all the while pulling out the last empty chair at the table and situating myself in it. “Yes, Christ
ian of the Black is how most refer to me here,” I said. “If they bother with titles at all. There aren’t many of those spread around to peasant mercenaries.”

  “But men will cling to whatever recognition they get.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. She glanced between the two of us, motioning in Roland’s direction when her attention settled on me again. “Now, as I was explaining to Master Roland, I rode in from Exeter to offer you a sincere thank you from both me and house Cavendish. The other evening, you did me a great favor. Lawrence had taken me away from my family home in Exeter and seemed intent on violence. I feared for my life until you appeared.”

  My eyes flicked to Roland quickly for appraisal. He raised an eyebrow at me, the look in his eyes imploring me not to question how the lady might be inclined to interpret the events of that night. “I told Lady Cavendish that she had just missed you,” he said. “That you’d been sent on another job for me after returning from Exeter.”

  “Yes, which I am happy to report went well,” I said, countering his quirked brow with one of my own. Reaching for the strap running along my chest, I lifted my satchel over my head and placed it on the floor beside us. A smile finally managed its way onto the surface, with as much honesty as I could give it. The game had been laid out before me. As it was, I had no other choice but to play it. Folding my hands atop the table, I nodded and assumed a much more agreeable air. “The man did appear to be boorish, if I could be granted the ability to speak ill of a nobleman.”

  “My family agrees, so you aren’t breaking your station,” she said, regarding me in silence for the briefest of moments. Finally, she relaxed her posture. “You needn’t be concerned, Master Christian. My words to them bore some truth, but not all of it. Enough that my family understood you were hired by one of Lawrence’s enemies and granted him a fitting end. They were so impressed, in fact, that as part of my thanks, I am to propose an offer to you.”

  My smile faded, given over to curiosity. “What sort of offer?”

  “You’re to be my guard for a time. Until I’m sure Lawrence’s family won’t attempt something foolish. I was betrothed to him and my family fears they might try to force another arrangement.” Jane leaned forward in her seat, her smile turning cunning. “We pay handsomely, I can assure you.”

  I pursed my lips, pretending the thought of coin held any sway. “How handsomely? And for how long?”

  “I think you’re evaluating this proposal the wrong way, lad,” Roland interjected, directing our attention toward him. His eyes settled on me with particular heaviness, his expression twitching as if wanting desperately to pass something from his mind to mine. We held this gaze for several moments, while I struggled to decrypt what he meant to say. Would refusing ensure my head on a platter? Or would accepting mean I might not have to flee? Neither seemed clear, but he refused to relent. “Worth any amount of money a noble would be willing to part with.”

  “You do keep trying to instill a sense of propriety in me, Roland,” I said. “Perhaps one of these days it’ll finally stick.” I glanced back toward Jane. “My questions still stand.”

  Her smile faded, but I failed to register offense in the way she examined me. “At least a fortnight. Perhaps two. Your employer can set the price and I will assure it paid.”

  “You also know you’re attempting to barter for the services of an assassin, right?”

  “What better person to see a threat before anyone else might?”

  I nodded, drawing a deep breath inward. My thoughts shifted to Paolo, who undoubtedly had our horses prepared by now. Stealing another look toward the strange men gathered around the room, I met her gaze once more while weighing any chance I might have for escape, reminded of how little I desired such a thing. “Do I have the liberty to consider this offer?” I asked, no more certain what I should do next than I had been when I rode into town. “I just returned, after all, and I admit I could use a short rest before embarking on another journey.”

  The wily curl her lips undertook tugged at the knots still present in my stomach. “I’ll expect your answer by nightfall.”

  “By nightfall, you will have it.” I lifted to a stand, fetching my satchel and ignoring Roland, despite feeling the weight of his stare on me. Hitching the strap over my head again, I then bowed to Jane, walking first to the stairs and bounding up them while watching for anyone set on following me. My gait back to Paolo’s room remained confident, and as I shut the door, I failed to see anyone lingering in the hallway. My eyes shifted to the sole window in the room. Without hesitation, I strode to it, unlocking the shutters and seating myself on the edge of the sill. I twisted such that my legs dangled over the edge.

  A race of nerves fought against the reminder of that fourteen year old boy who fell out of the window, fleeing for his life. I clenched my eyes shut and took a deep breath, thinking instead of the trees I’d climbed and jumped from over the years. This would be no higher than a few of them. Gripping onto the sill, I pushed off, clinging by my fingertips until the last minute before letting go to drop down onto the ground below. My knees buckled when I landed, but my posture held steady.

  I peered toward the stables once I rose to my feet and walked casually toward them.

  Nobody foreign passed me on the road, and the few who were present looked the other way when they saw the emblem on my cloak. I slipped away into safety, catching sight of Paolo in Tempest’s stall and walking toward them, waiting to speak until I was nearly on top of them. Paolo spared me a quick look and I frowned in response. “Three men,” I said, taking over in saddling my mare. “And she wants me to guard her. I smell a lie.”

  “If she already has men protecting her, I would agree,” Paolo responded. He walked over to where he kept Diavolo’s reins and walked them over to the gelding. “They know not to underestimate you. How did you leave?”

  “From the window of our room. I claimed the need to sleep first.” Once I had the saddle righted, I reached to pet Tempest’s mane. She had yet to buck or protest, as though she had the ability to recognize urgency and push aside her normal petulance. I sighed. “You don’t have to do this, Paolo. This is the bed I made.”

  “You say what you did in the room and then expect me to let you go alone. You are stupid, amico mio.”

  “I was not binding you to my fate.” When Paolo failed to respond, my frown deepened. Something told me this was an argument I was poised to lose. My back remained to my lover, though, my eyes on the horse while I pondered her. “We are going to have to sprint. Tempest has barely had any chance to rest.”

  “Christian –”

  “I know. I simply don’t like the thought of laming her.”

  “Stai zitto e girate.”

  The way he muttered the words caused me to tense. I held onto Tempest’s saddle, wondering if I shouldn’t just pull myself onto the back of my horse and take off running. The compulsion wavered, though, when I knew that meant I’d be leaving Paolo to whatever it was he saw. Peering over my shoulder, I saw a silhouette in the doorway and pivoted to face whoever had joined us in the stables.

  I recognized the tall figure from the great hall in the inn; one of the three men who had been keeping watch over Lady Jane Cavendish. He raised an eyebrow at me and I held my gaze steady, seeing the sword by his side and unafraid of it. As I lifted a foot into a stirrup, he pushed back the folds of his cloak. The interloper took a step to the side, revealing Jane behind him. She folded her arms across her chest, smiling at me as though Paolo didn’t even exist. “You would risk laming the horse,” she said, stepping further into the stables. “If you made it out of the town in the first place.”

  Slowly, I lowered my foot back onto the ground again. My eyes remained set on her, flicking only occasionally to the man by her side. “I see the need you have for guards,” I said. “This one was not near silent enough.”

  He bristled and she laughed. “Caught you by surprise,” she countered. Jane took two measured paces closer to us before stopping altogether. A
sigh passed through her lips. “I was hoping you would accept the offer and allow us to talk on the road, but it looks like I need to have this discussion with you now.” Her gaze shifted to Paolo before returning to me. “Come take a walk with me, Christian of the Black. I think you need to hear a vital part of my offer before you refuse it.”

  I looked toward Paolo in time to see him clench his jaw. My hand slid to Tempest’s reins and I led her over to him, my other palm coming to rest on his shoulder and directing his attention toward me. “Take Tempest,” I said, passing the lead over. “I will walk with the fair lady and hear out what she has to say.”

  More words were birthed and died just as quickly, none making it out his mouth. He glanced from me to her and grunted, which made up the entire assent Paolo was going to offer the concession. Taking hold of Tempest, he led her and Diavolo away as I paced closer to where Jane stood. “I hope trusting you doesn’t end poorly for me,” I added.

  Her cryptic smile held steady. “Trusting anyone bears that risk, dear rogue,” she said, “But I promise the nature of what I have to say isn’t a threat. It’s an opportunity.”

  “Fortune smiles upon me at last.” I trudged forward when my sardonic response failed to make her anything but nonplussed. The man at the door held it open for us, waiting until we had both exited the stables before shutting it again. I squinted into the sunlight and nodded in the direction of the main road, an idle, morbid thought crossing my mind as we paced away. Whose blood would stain these streets before dusk, hers or mine?

  “You’re tense,” she observed as we walked. Her guard assumed a position behind us, and if not for the fact that I had not been asked to disarm, the closeness of his shadow might have set me all the more on edge. She reached over and touched my face, directing my sights toward her. “If I wanted you dead, I would have come with more than a few men.”