by Alana Serra
As she turned her wrist to level the sword at his chest, though, she stopped. “You aren’t wearing any chainmail. I don’t want to hurt you.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to make a quip about that, but, as promised, Tanris toned it down. “I assure you, I’ve suffered far worse.”
She watched his eyes as she pushed the blade forward. The tip of it punctured his leather jerkin, and when it reached his skin, she stopped, only the barest hint of pain registering in Tanris. He grinned at her, but she didn’t smile back. Her expression drew into one of deep, soul-shattering concern, and it threw Tanris so far off balance that all he could do was stare at her.
What was she thinking? What was she getting off of him? He tried to shore up, tried to close himself off to her though he knew it was useless. When that tactic failed, he fell back on his usual method of skirting around more difficult subjects.
“What do you say we seal it with a kiss, hm? I’m sure all the others have gotten the same treatment.” He arched a brow as if challenging her to lie. When her blush deepened, he knew he was right. “At this point it’s only fair.”
“There’s nothing in the pact that says she needs to be physical with any of us,” Wesley said testily.
“Now, now. As I said, I’m not trying to encroach. I was merely asking.”
He saw something in Rhia as she considered him. Interest, certainly. She’d been interested from the start, and Tanris had enough confidence in himself to know why she would be. But there was something else there. She looked like an alchemist who’d just discovered some hidden ingredient that might bring the whole concoction together.
“One kiss, but that’s it,” she said in a soft voice. “No liberties taken.”
“Define ‘liberties,’” he said playfully.
“I could just as easily change my mind.”
“All right, all right,” he said with a laugh. “One kiss. No fun to be had.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but there was a smile on her lovely lips. Lips he’d soon taste. His own fairly tingled in anticipation and he stepped closer to her once more, his fingers tracing that mark at her neck. She stiffened, and so Tanris let it be, hand moving to her shoulder as he bent his head to kiss her. Her lips were soft, sweet, and willing against his, and while she’d allowed him no liberties, that didn’t mean he was going to let her off the hook with a mere brush.
He kissed her thoroughly, tilting his head to deepen it, yearning to embrace her but keeping his hands to himself, for the most part. Even when she let out a muffled moan as his tongue swept inside her mouth. She reached for him, clutching his arms, and still Tanris kept to his word, sucking her bottom lip before he pulled back.
He could feel the eyes of her other guardians on them, but to his pleasant surprise, none looked as if they intended to murder him. Rhia observed this, as well, that pretty flush making its way to her neck and chest. She smoothed down her dress, cleared her throat, and tried to act with authority. Tanris, meanwhile, shamelessly adjusted himself while he felt Liam’s gaze burning into him.
“Right. That’s handled,” Rhia said, obviously flustered. “Now we have work to do.”
Chapter 29
The ride to Platsia wasn’t as harrowing as the first, but it was no less stressful.
They had to hurry there, uncertain if the trial would be moved up to an execution thanks to their interference. All four of her guardians accompanied Rhia as they rode across forests and plains, mountains and valleys to get to the large, prestigious city.
Some part of her wished she could enjoy it. She’d always wanted to see Platsia. If not to study there, then at least to enjoy some of the richer delights supposedly found in the city. But it was becoming clearer to Rhia that these places held little for her any longer.
Hearing each of her guardian’s stories and the horrors experienced by the creatures Aeredus kept under his thumb, she wasn’t inclined to view any human settlement in the same light again. What had once been a bastion of good, a place where heroism and honor were prized above all else, was now a fortress of corruption that bred ignorance among its populace.
It helped that their mission was to get an innocent girl out of holding to escape execution for a crime she didn’t commit. A crime that—quite frankly—needed to happen to stop the baron’s abuse. Rhia was positive he never would have been brought to justice in the traditional sense. She didn’t know what it said about her that she empathized with Wesley and his reasons for pacting, but she did, and she wasn’t going to feel ashamed about that.
She would feel ashamed about the way she’d handled herself last time, though. She didn’t want to ever end up in that place again, where she had no control over her actions. Despite distancing herself from it and pacting with her guardians, Aeredus’ mark remained the same, binding tighter around her neck, those serpents threatening to suffocate her.
She didn’t want to find out what would happen if she slipped again, and so she consulted all four of her guardians when they made their final camp before reaching the city proper.
“We need to go in with a plan,” she said, pacing the campsite, restless and anxious, threads of doubt creeping into her conscious mind. “We can’t afford to be reckless. There’s too much at stake, and we’re already fighting against the odds.”
“You really should have let me ride ahead,” Tanris said with a sigh. “I could have gotten a feel for the place, given you information to go off of before you even stepped through the gates.”
Rhia shook her head, adamant. “We do this together. No more breaking away from the group. I’m okay with you gathering information—in fact I’m sure we’ll need it—but we need to be close in case something happens.”
“Is this to be a full prison break? Subduing the paladins, getting Wesley’s sister from the dungeons, then escaping?” Karak asked, turning the boar he’d hunted on a makeshift spit above the fire.
“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Wesley said, drawing Rhia’s attention. He’d been the quietest during this trip, and she’d yet to get him out of his own head. “I know, I tried to do exactly that. But it wasn’t a plan. It was just… desperation. And I worry if we break her out, they’ll have even more cause to believe she’s guilty.”
Liam nodded in rare agreement. “Once they’re certain of someone’s guilt, paladins will pursue them to the ends of the earth. The whole lot of them are obsessed with justice.”
An oiled rag swiped over his sword, catching the edge of the blade. The way he said the word and the way he held himself now told Rhia everything she needed to know about their particular brand of justice.
“Then we must prove her innocence, I suppose,” Tanris reasoned. “But how to do it without implicating our brooding friend here?”
“I’m willing to—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” she warned, cutting Wesley off before he could even form the thought. “We’re not trading your life for hers. There has to be another way.”
“We could implicate someone else,” Karak offered. “Someone who deserves to take the fall. It’s not the most upstanding thing to do, but if we choose the right person…”
He was right. It didn’t sit well with the part of Rhia that still wanted things to be black and white. But they weren’t. They never had been, and they never would be. If they could find someone who would be better off in jail, perhaps there was a chance.
“There’d have to be overwhelming evidence,” Liam said. “If the paladins think they’ve got the murderer, they’ll need something to sway their minds.”
“I believe I can help with that. I have a particularly versatile hand, if I do say so myself,” Tanris said, turning said hand around, his rings gleaming in the firelight.
“Meaning forgeries,” Rhia said, her brow arched.
“Among other things.”
Tanris had been true to his word, much of his innuendo toned down since pacting with her. Unfortunately, Rhia’s mind was eager to follow even the sl
ightest trail of breadcrumbs to get to the images he set before her. She shook that one away now, reasserting her focus.
“What’s the first step, then?” she asked. “How do we go about doing this?”
“The Tremont estate.” Wesley’s expression was set in a hard line and he reached for the wineskin Tanris had left in the center of camp, taking a swig. “Get inside, see if Lady Tremont has had any contact with the Guardians of the Rose or the guild in Platsia.”
“Make it look like she had him killed,” Liam mused. “That could work, if you think there’s precedent for it. It might not require forgery, either.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s precedent for it. I doubt very seriously I’m the only one who wanted Tremont dead, and if it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been her.”
“But does she deserve to take the fall?” Using one powerful arm, Karak pulled the boar from the fire and propped it up to rest, the smell making Rhia’s mouth water. “Outside of implicating your sister, she’s innocent in this. From what you’ve said, at least.”
“I wouldn’t consider getting an enslaved girl jailed for murder ‘innocent,’” Wesley said, his voice low and dangerous.
“But she was a bystander. Her husband was the awful one, she had to live with him. I just don’t want to see someone like that hanged. She’s suffered enough.”
Before they’d made this trip, Wesley reluctantly shared his story. Everyone sympathized, even Liam. Especially Liam, it seemed, because he hadn’t been nearly as much of an ass to Wesley since. But Karak raised a good point now. Malleable conscience or not, Rhia wasn’t sure she could send Lady Tremont to her death, either.
“I think I agree with Karak,” she admitted, her gaze finding its way to Wesley. “I’m sorry.”
“Back to square one, then.” Tanris stood with some theatrics and made his way over to the roast pig, poking at the charred flesh.
“It’s not ready yet,” Karak warned.
“Oh, come now. It’s dead. It’s cooked. And I’m starving.”
Karak shrugged, and Rhia suppressed a snort when Tanris inevitably burned himself for his impatience.
“I suppose if you’re not thinking with your cock, you’re thinking with your stomach,” the half-orc said, smirking.
“I’ll have you know I can think with both simultaneously.”
“We’re getting off track.” As much as Rhia needed a diversion from the heavier topics, they had to make a plan. Tonight. “What are we doing, guys?”
Liam pushed himself to his feet and paced the edge of the camp, his armor clinking as he did so. “What if it’s not Lady Tremont who hangs for it? Let’s assume she was planning to off the man eventually. Maybe she was making inquiries, talking to people who’d be willing to do it for a little coin. Wesley has illusion spells. He could make one of us look like that person and we could go to her, saying we’re going to turn ourselves in.”
“What does that accomplish?” Rhia asked, her brow furrowing. “If she never actually hired that person, she won’t believe it and won’t feel like she has to own up to anything. She can just burn any correspondence, possibly even have that person killed.”
“No, I think he’s onto something,” Wesley said, more animated than she’d seen him in days. “We start by looking through her correspondence. Tanris can do that, find someone she might have hired. Then Rhia can cast a spell on Lady Tremont to make her certain she did hire that person, and Tanris can forge a letter that proves it. I can make one of you—Karak or Liam—look like that person, and you can convince her you’ve had a crisis of conscience. Then…”
He faltered, but Liam was there to pick up the slack. “She’ll do the rest. She has money, resources, and I’m sure enough influence in the city to keep her name out of it. She’ll get word of this person to the paladin order, who like any can be bought.”
“But what if she tries to say Emma conspired with this person? What if she’s petty enough to want them both executed for the crime?” Rhia asked.
A plan was coming together. She could feel it, and the excitement around the camp was contagious. But she needed to keep a cool head. For Emma’s sake, for Wesley, for all of them.
“We have to make that option as unappealing as possible,” Karak said, “and make sure there’s no evidence that could implicate Emma. Maybe even something that clears her name.”
“It could work.” Liam looked at each of them in turn, his gaze resting on Rhia. “It’s the best plan we’ve had, and likely the one that will lead to the smallest number of casualties. The only person who suffers here is someone who would’ve gladly taken Lady Tremont’s gold to assassinate her husband anyway.”
“If she was planning to hire someone,” Rhia pointed out. “All of this hinges on that belief. Otherwise we’re just framing an innocent person and using another to get him to the scaffold.”
“You are very particular for a Dark Lady,” Tanris said casually, having managed to pluck off some of the cooling boar meat.
“I am. You knew that when you agreed to this.”
The rogue just flashed her a grin, dipping his head in deference as he popped the piece of meat into his mouth. Rhia’s stomach growled obnoxiously.
“Why don’t we all have something to eat,” Karak said, giving her a sympathetic look. “If we come up with a better plan once our bellies are full, we can go with that. Otherwise, we’ll start with having Tanris infiltrate the Tremont Estate.”
They all agreed, every one of them having only had the barest rations during their travels. The boar was carved by Karak, each of them getting more than enough to eat. Once they were full, a strong fatigue began to set in, lethargy threatening to overcome Rhia. They’d talked more, tried to reason out some other approach, but everything else either ended with the paladins hunting down Wesley’s sister, or more innocent people dying.
There weren’t an abundance of choices. Either she did this Aeredus’ way—something she absolutely refused—or she took a riskier route that would harm as few people as possible. It was worth it to try, and all of her guardians agreed. As they settled into a watch schedule, Rhia lay down in her bedroll, looking up at the stars.
Tomorrow she would undergo her first big “siege” as a Dark Lady. With any luck, no property would be damaged, no innocents would be killed, and they’d even come away with it having rescued someone. It was the exact opposite of what Aeredus ordered her to do, and she couldn’t help but feel good about that. As she drifted off to sleep, Rhia had a smile on her lips, confident they could make it work.
Chapter 30
The benefit to working in a team, Tanris realized, was that he could be sure his best assets were put to use, and that he wouldn’t be asked to do anything he wasn’t good at.
Intimidating folk with ghastly glowers and cutting words? That was more Liam’s expertise. Slicing through hordes of enemies as though they were finely churned butter? Karak certainly had the muscles for that. Pinpointing the exact useful passage in some dusty old tome? Absolutely Wesley’s specialty.
But Tanris? He had a knack for getting in unnoticed, or causing such a scene that one couldn’t take their eyes off of him. There was never any in between, and while to the uneducated those might have seemed two contradictory approaches, Tanris found they often went hand in hand.
He was prepared to utilize the first as he climbed from the roof to one of the windows on the second floor of the Tremont Estate.
“If you hear her, leave,” Wesley hissed, sounding quite urgent. “There’ll be no charming your way out of it with her. She’ll have you killed as soon as she catches you trespassing.”
“Clearly you underestimate how charming I can be,” was all he said before swinging himself into the window Rhia had opened with her magic.
He’d swiped some more mundane clothing from a stablehand who’d passed out in a drunken stupor. It wasn’t an exact fit, as Tanris didn’t quite fill it out as well as the bulky stablehand, but Wesley’s illusion magic had done wonde
rs to make it conform to his shape—and he’d taken the stench of ale and piss out of it, too.
Both Wesley and Rhia questioned his motives for dressing in such a way, but Tanris had a plan. A plan, and a backup plan, in fact. So when he crept toward Lady Tremont’s boudoir, he felt confident in his approach. They’d ensured earlier in the day that the lady would be otherwise occupied, and Tanris had a clear shot, having to stick to the shadows to avoid just one servant who was milling around.
The lady’s bedroom was extravagant. A bit much for his tastes, but he could appreciate the fine, perfumed linens and the crushed red velvet beneath his feet. He was well aware of his task, though, and made for Tremont’s writing desk, opening it carefully, silently.
Lady Tremont was no stranger to letter-writing. She’d penned a variety of correspondence, judging from those she received in return. Some were rather scandalous, if he did say so himself, and Tanris kept one such letter from a lordling who must have been twenty years her junior. It smelled more strongly of perfume than the others, as if the Lady had spent a fair amount of time with it. And to his delight, the contents therein were not flowery prose, but the rough talk of someone who knew how to handle a woman as she wished to be handled.
It was merely a diversion, though, and Tanris found what he was looking for soon after. Letters from a man called Alexei Stragar who commiserated with her about her vile husband and offered to take care of the matter—for a price. Oh, he was subtle enough, but not so subtle as to avoid implicating himself entirely. With a bit of touching up, it would serve as excellent proof, and so he slipped that letter into his pocket, as well.
He turned to leave, rather pleased with himself. Until he saw the lady of the house. Quiet and nimble as a sparrow’s wings, standing in the doorway with all the grace of a tiger prepared to pounce.