by K. M. Shea
Trailing after the queen was a young man who was approximately the prince’s age—in the early years of his twenties—though he wore a friendly smile that made his eyes twinkle. He carried a stack of papers in one hand and bore a velvet pillow in the other.
“Welcome, Lisheva and Vorah,” the queen said, surprising Lis when she correctly addressed them, looking at each of them with their proper name. “You can’t imagine how glad we are that you have agreed to help us.”
“Here it is, the Pea of Primeorder!” King Albion took the pillow from the handsome servant with a smile. “Thank you, Haywood. If you would put the contracts on the table, please.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” the man, Haywood, said in a sing-song voice.
King Albion offered the pillow out to Lis and Vorah. When they leaned towards the pillow, he beamed. “Go ahead and take it—pick it up! If you are to guard it from Apex, you’ll need to handle the Pea.”
Vorah raised an eyebrow. “Knowing what it contains doesn’t make me all that eager to touch it,” she said.
Lis paused, then picked up the spherical gem—which was round and bigger than her thumbnail. It was cool to the touch, but strangely textured due to the cut of the jewel—done to make it sparkle just so.
As Channing had said, the jewel was a yellow-y shade of green. It did resemble a pea, but there was an extra glitter to it that a normal jewel didn’t possess.
Magic.
Lis carefully rolled it around in her hand, getting used to its weight. “Where do you plan to keep it for the duration of our contract?” Lis asked, already puzzling out how she and Vorah would trade off shifts and breaks.
King Albion tilted his head. “Why, with you, of course!”
Lis blinked. “I don’t understand.”
Prince Channing looked up from organizing the contract pages with Haywood. “We thought it would be easiest for you to keep it on your person.”
Lis held the jewel in her palm. “Oh?”
Next to her, Vorah cleared her throat to mask her snort of disbelief.
Is the royal family countrified and have no idea how most of civilization works, or are they merely that trusting?
Though Lis and Vorah were being paid to protect the gem, there were any number of ways for them to turn a higher profit by taking the jewel for themselves, swapping it out for a fake, etc. Lis would never do such a thing—it would be cowardly and dishonorable—and neither would Vorah, but the royal family couldn’t know that…could they?
They are too intelligent to be that dull-minded. Prince Channing, at the very least, seems like he could eat bandits with his luncheon. But why would they trust us to strut around with something so important, then?
When Lis glanced at Prince Channing, he offered her that small, pleasant smile again.
There’s definitely something deeper going on.
“Very well,” Lis said. “Then if we could adjust the contract…”
“Yes, yes, of course!” King Albion beamed. “Originally, we planned to ask you on for a month and a half, but three weeks will give us the time we need—and will mean you are present when Apex strikes, for he promised to do so within the week. Is that satisfactory to you?”
“Yes.” Lis glanced at the gem before passing it over to Vorah.
“Excellent! Haywood—fetch us some ink, would you?”
Haywood bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty!”
“And check with the housekeeper what rooms our fine guests will be staying in,” King Albion called after the servant. “When all this paper business is over, I’d like you to take them to their rooms.”
Haywood smiled cheekily. “With pleasure, Your Majesty,” he said before he darted from the room.
“We thank you for your service,” Queen Theodora said in her melodic voice.
Lis and Vorah bowed in sync. “We will strive with every ounce of our skill and strength to keep our contract and not betray the trust you have placed in us,” they said together—as they did with every contract to which they agreed.
When Lis straightened up, she noticed Prince Channing was studying her, his head tilted slightly. When he caught her gaze he nodded, then shifted to face his father.
A very strange royal family indeed…
Chapter 3
“They have got to rename this thing,” Vorah announced to her audience of Lis and books as she held the Pea of Primeorder above her head and squinted into its green depths. “It’s just about the worst name I’ve heard.”
Lis didn’t stir from where she leaned against the library wall and stared out of a window and into the busy trickle of people that passed through the gated wall that separated the royal palace from the rest of Mersey. As the foul weather had eased, folks were finally out and about again—though the sun was starting to set, and long shadows stretched across the courtyard. “Perhaps it is so named to mislead those who would like to steal such a thing.”
“A pea is just about one of the lowest food items you could compare a jewel to,” Vorah agreed. She was splayed out in an armchair—one leg hooked over an armrest. “So, what’s the plan?”
Lis finally turned away from the window and studied the silent library.
It was beautiful—filled with scrolls and leather-bound books—and welcoming. Sunbeams streamed in through the many windows, and it was filled with the comforting smell of paper. But it was also filled with treasures of another kind: instruments.
Lis carefully wound her way past a harp that was taller than herself and paused to glance at a violin that was a deep cherry-brown color. “We keep the jewel on us and rotate day shifts.”
Vorah stood and stretched like a cat before she joined Lis in inspecting the violin, subtly passing the jewel when their arms brushed. “And at night?”
Lis tucked the jewel in a leather pouch attached to her belt. “We stay together.”
“That’s why you rejected our private rooms and asked for shared quarters?” Vorah asked.
“Apex traditionally strikes at night,” Lis said. “While we need to always be on our guard, at night we must especially be aware.”
Vorah nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Are we going to stay up all night?”
Lis pressed her lips together. “We can take shifts, but my foremost concern is properly preparing the room to make a quiet heist impossible.”
“True. Especially if you choose a good spot to store it during the night hours,” Vorah said.
Lis swiveled so she could face her friend. “Any ideas?”
Vorah rested her hand on a bookshelf. “I was thinking under your mattress.”
Lis thoughtfully frowned as she considered the idea.
Normally, such a spot would be an asinine recommendation, but Vorah and Lis were unusual in that they were female warriors who lived by the sword. Not to mention Apex was a seasoned thief.
The few jewels Apex had stolen were all taken straight off their owners. Most people assumed that if the gem wasn’t surrounded by guards, the next safest place would be to have it secured out in the open, to their person.
Hiding the jewel under the mattress would throw up another blockade to keep Apex from pulling the heist. But more importantly, it would give Lis and Vorah a serious edge.
As female fighters, Lis and Vorah were used to facing opponents who were in some way superior. As women, it was nearly impossible for them to match the strength of a male opponent, and while in some cases they could pull off superior speed, the easiest path to winning dealt in the battle of the mind.
Years of fighting had trained Lis to react faster, to be able to accurately predict what sort of moves she could expect, and to even be aware of her opponent—their presence, the holes in their defense, their strengths, etc.
In battle, anything from a slight shift of an enemy’s weight to a minute difference in the angle at which they held their sword could mean victory or defeat.
No matter how quiet Apex was, when presented with a bedroom in which there was no window an
d only one entrance, he could not possibly enter the room without awakening either Lis or Vorah—particularly not when they had the room booby-trapped to make noise and if he had to physically reach under Lis to dig the Pea out.
“It’s a good idea,” Lis said. “And it just might be our best option.”
“It will be an unexpected hiding place,” Vorah said with a bit of smugness. “And also offers a location that will play off your sensitivity.”
Lis raised an eyebrow. “Hopefully we are not overestimating our awareness and skills.”
Vorah snorted and leaned against the bookshelf. “Even blindfolded you can feel if your horse’s walk is off. This should be playing to your strengths.”
“And yours,” Lis said. “You have better hearing than I do, so you ought to go in the bed closest to the door.”
“I’m game!” Vorah pushed off the bookshelf and passed a table of books, caressing the spines with her hands as she passed. “Is our goal to run him off or capture him? Apex, I mean.”
“Capture.” Lis scowled. “I don’t want to risk him coming back—and he deserves to be jailed.”
Vorah grinned. “You don’t like him, do you?”
“I dislike any criminal that people like to paint as a hero.” Lis returned to her post by the window with a sigh.
Vorah laughed outright. “Your sense of justice strikes again! But if you want to capture him, that means we’ll need to lure him into coming all the way into the room. So, in addition to taking watch shifts, whoever is awake needs to pretend to be asleep?”
Lis nodded. “Yes. This Apex is proud. Pride makes one careless. We’ll play off that so he believes we are an easy mark—like all his previous jobs.”
Vorah twirled a lock of wavy red hair as she narrowed her eyes. “I agree, but this job isn’t like all of his previous ones.”
Lis could hear the faint hum of the chatter from those outside the castle walls through the thin windowpane. “In what way?”
“It’s in Torrens. This Apex fellow has made a name for himself robbing small-time lords—who are usually known for being crooked. But he’s always recovering treasures of Torrens from outside Torrens,” Vorah said.
As Lis watched, Haywood—the handsome male servant who had shown Lis and Vorah around the castle—trotted outside. He laughed and waved to a number of folk who all greeted him with warm smiles.
“This is the first heist he’s attempting inside Torrens?” Lis asked as her eyes followed Haywood’s progress. He passed through the gates—making the guards chuckle—and left her sight when he entered Mersey.
“I’m not an Apex expert, but based on the information I was able to gather on him this afternoon, I think so,” Vorah said.
“He’s changing his pattern.” Lis shifted her gaze from the window, to her boots—which were discolored now and still squeaked. “But why?”
“Perhaps the Pea of Primeorder is too good for him to pass up,” Vorah suggested.
Lis slightly shook her head. “I’m not certain that’s the reason…but I suppose it doesn’t matter. I do not care about his motivations; I only care that he is caught.”
She steeled herself for one of Vorah’s predictable remarks about being her teacher, but her friend said nothing.
Curious, Lis turned around.
Vorah was smirking in the direction of the open library door.
“What is it?” Lis asked.
Vorah glanced at her, and her smirk grew. “Just a curious onlooker.” She slapped her hands on her thighs, making her chainmail jingle. “If you’ll excuse me, Master. I believe you’re on duty now? I’m going to relax a bit during my downtime.”
Lis took a few steps so she could peer around a bookshelf and watch Vorah leave the library. Her friend brushed past Prince Channing, who stood in the hallway.
He slightly inclined his head when Vorah offered him a bow, but he immediately returned his attention to the library, his honey brown eyes glittering in the darker shadows of the hallway.
Lis offered her own bow to the prince when he met her gaze.
Prince Channing took a few steps forward but lingered in the doorway.
Lis blinked. Is he waiting for a report of some sort? Or does he have more information for us? “Can I be of assistance, Your Highness?” she asked when the prince showed no signs of moving on or speaking.
The prince took one purposeful step into the library, then stood ramrod straight with his arms tucked behind his back.
Yep, some military training for certain—but he is the heir, so that makes sense.
“I merely wished to inquire that your new quarters were to your liking,” he said stiffly.
“They are,” Lis said.
“Father said you turned down the original rooms prepared for you,” he said as he ventured another step inwards.
“They were beautiful, but they would have been harder to fortify,” Lis explained.
The original quarters Haywood has escorted them to were beautiful rooms filled with dainty furniture, picturesque windows, and magnificent fireplaces.
Their new—shared—room was smaller, less cluttered, and possessed no way to enter or exit besides the door. All of this put together made a room that was much easier to fight in, and much harder for Apex to sneak into.
“You were not offended by the choice of room?” Prince Channing asked as he stared at Lis’ feet.
“Not at all. We appreciated your generosity—it was merely inappropriate for our task,” Lis said.
The prince nodded at the floor. “I am glad to hear so.”
Is he that fascinated with my boots? When we first met, he had no trouble at all staring at us, but now he seems afraid to meet my gaze.
Lis shifted her weight onto her heels and inwardly debated how she should make an excuse and leave the library—and the prince—when Channing abruptly spoke.
“I saw your match against Sir Louis of Loire.” Channing edged a little farther into the room, pausing to inspect a lute carefully displayed on a shelf. “You were…a credit to your name.”
My match against Sir Louis was in a tournament held in Loire…I thought King Albion said Channing had seen me defeat a goblin pack in Erlauf? “I believe I recall the match. It was during the summer tournament the Duke of Troyes holds every year.” Lis brushed the hilt of her sword as she smiled at the memory.
“It’s an impressive tournament,” Channing said. “You only entered the swordsmanship contest, did you not?”
She straightened her spine and gave the prince her full attention once more. “That is correct.”
Channing glanced at her before once again fixing his gaze upon the lute—as if it deserved a careful study. “Why did you not enter the jousting tournament? You are a very skilled combat rider—as you displayed when you fought off a goblin pack.”
I guess that means he has seen me more than once? The tournament makes sense—it’s a social event, and nobility from across the continent attend. But when I fought the goblins it was for a contract I made with a smaller Erlauf city…
“My horse and I are not skilled in the traditional sense of jousting,” Lis said. “My mare doesn’t have the build for it, and I have practiced more heavily on actual combat than exhibition demonstrations.”
Channing finally moved away from the lute and took another few steps closer to Lis. This time he stopped to minutely adjust the position of an armchair. “Why do you ride a mare instead of a gelding—or a stallion?”
“She had the particular temperament I was looking for in a horse.” Lis cocked her head as she studied the prince, who still fussed with the chair. “But even before I chose her, I thought I might like a mare. I’ve seen too many idiots ride hot-headed stallions and then fail to control them in battle—particularly when they encounter mares.”
Channing finally looked up, his chiseled brow ever so slightly furrowed in interest, and met her gaze. “It is a strategic decision, then?”
Lis nodded. “As a warrior for hire, I am m
ore concerned with fulfilling my contracts and jobs, and less interested in putting my battle prowess on display. I much prefer my mare—whom I can count on to fight—than riding a war horse skilled at exhibition matches.”
Channing nodded. “I see the logic in your decision. It is well thought-out.”
“Thank you,” Lis said sincerely.
She was used to people rolling their eyes at her mare—until they saw her in combat or facing a man, anyway. Prince Channing’s admittance of respect made her feel a shred less suspicious of the strange situation.
Unexpectedly, Prince Channing gave Lis a full smile—one that flashed his teeth and made Lis gape. When Channing smiled, his features softened, his eyes brightened, and his stony face was positively handsome.
He… Lis didn’t know what else to think besides admire the niceness of his smile.
The grin only lasted about two moments before Channing abruptly stiffened. “If you’ll excuse me.” He clicked his heels together and left before Lis could bow, marching from the room with a swift and rigid stride.
Lis watched him go somewhat bewilderedly. “He is a puzzle,” she muttered.
I can’t get a good read on him. I’m not sure if it’s because he is purposefully masking his intensions, or if it’s something more personal…
Lis shifted slightly and nodded when she felt the Pea of Primeorder roll in the pouch on her belt. But it matters not. All I have to do is keep the Pea of Primeorder safe for three weeks. The prince can be as complicated as he likes. Once this contract is over, I’ll likely never see him again.
Chapter 4
The chair Lis and Vorah had carefully leaned against the door thumped quietly when it hit the wooden floor, and Lis awoke.
She strained her ears—though she kept her eyes closed.
The only thing she could hear was the inhale and exhale of Vorah’s breath. Though it was deep and steady, it was also a sure sign Vorah was awake. (The warrior woman breathed as quietly as a mouse when she was really sleeping.)
Lis listened for anything: a board creaking, the door swinging open…there was only silence. Until…