Thief's War: A Knight and Rogue Novel

by Bell, Hilari

  “What a clever way to pass messages.” I put my hands in my pockets, so the guard could see I had picked up nothing from my new friend.

  “Yah, but if you want t’ use it, then it’s time to make good on your promise. None of your notes is going nowhere, unless they’s a plan for us t’ get at the Rose along with it.”

  I should have known this was coming, but the firmness in his voice still took me aback. “Something that could strike at Roseman, without getting us all killed, is going to be tricky. I’d need time.”

  “You’ve had time.” Jig pulled his line from the water, and shook his head over the empty hook. “You want your notes delivered? This is the price.”

  It seemed that my time had run out.

  “Very well. I’ll think of something. But it will take time—several days at least. How are you staying here, without shelter? Without arousing suspicion?”

  The hat tipped up, and he sent me an amused glance. “I got friends in this neighborhood, Master Michael. They’re too scart of the Rose to take me in, but they’ll let me stay in the barn and help out with the animals now and again. Most of us got folk like that, kin or friends, who’d take us in if they dared.” He rebaited his hook once more. “They felt really bad about what happened to my father.”

  His father had been a town guardsman, who’d refused to carry out the sentence one of the Rose’s judicars had passed on an innocent man. The flogging was still carried out, by another of the town guard. And two weeks afterward, Jig’s father had “fallen” into the bay and drowned. A story that quite failed to account for the bruises that covered his body when ’twas pulled from the water.

  “I’ll find a way,” I promised. “Somehow, I’ll find a way.”

  I wasn’t talking about a simple strike against the Rose, either.

  * * *

  To avoid casting suspicion on my conversation with the young fisherman, I waited till the next day, when no one was nearby, to scramble up the small, rocky hill. The view from the top was worth the climb, and it made perfect sense for me to sit under the tree and admire that view. Away from the great river’s floodplain, low hills rolled into the distance. I thought I could see the sea on the far horizon, though I couldn’t be sure.

  I resolved to make that climb a regular part of my walks, and waited again till I was alone in my room before I finally read the note—though by then I was half-mad with suspense.

  It took some moments to translate Fisk’s circumlocution. I was clearly the recipient (female) of the letter, but what was this key—a magica key?—that he considered so necessary? People wealthy enough to own two homes often kept spare keys to some strong box or vault in a different establishment—it made things harder for an untrustworthy servant or a thief, though ’twas also more annoying to reclaim it if the master key was lost. This key Fisk sought clearly unlocked something important, but what? And why was he being so cursed cryptic? Any note found in my possession would be suspect, and without a better description of this key how was I to find it? But he was right that any plan for escape, or for foiling the Rose, must hinge on one or both of us being able to get out of our collars without getting the other killed. If I couldn’t do that, there was no point in worrying about keys or anything else.

  I’d already put it off too long. ’Twas time to try magic.

  * * *

  “I don’t know what’s wrong,” I told Lianna, who had appointed herself my assistant. We were working in the herbery, a room rich with sunlight and the welcoming scents of bruised greenery and damp earth. Almost no one came here besides me—though if anyone should happen by I had a drawer open, ready to sweep my work off the bench before it could be seen. If I got no better results than I had so far, ’twould scarcely matter.

  I had asked Lianna for some bit of jewelry to experiment on, and explaining what I wanted it for had resulted in a tale that lasted several hours. She was the first person besides Fisk to learn that I had some ability to work magic, and she didn’t seem nearly as horrified as I’d expected. That might have been because she’d been wearing a magica gem around her neck for several years now. Or mayhap she simply thought me deluded or mad—as a self-proclaimed knight errant, this is something to which I’m well accustomed.

  My utter lack of success was no doubt adding weight to the deluded and crazy side of the scale, even now.

  I tossed the faceted glass oval onto the workbench where we sat, and it clinked against its twin. Once she’d learned what I wanted the stones for, instead of a small tasteful stone, she’d fetched me two crystal pendants from some chandelier swathed in sheets in the attic. Lianna, it seemed, possessed a finding Gift—once she had a clear idea of what I wanted, if ’twas nearby she could locate it. ’Twas a rare Gift, much valued by those who sought precious metal or even underground water, and she’d kept it secret from Roseman. But ’twas valuable for other things as well, and I congratulated myself and her on my choice of allies. I’d asked her about finding the key, without much hope that she could do it from so vague a description, but she said she’d try as soon as Roseman departed. The gems she’d brought me were an excellent match for the stones in our collars, and would have made near perfect replicas…if only I’d been able to make them glow.

  “Your sleeping potion works wonderfully,” Lianna consoled me. “I’ve completely stopped taking laudanum.”

  She looked the better for it, too. Her eyes were bright, and her nerves didn’t seem so fragile…though that might have been because the time for her husband’s visit was approaching.

  “Any competent herb talker can harvest magica,” I said. “And any competent healer would have had you taking it long ago. This…”

  I stared in disgust at the harmless bits of crystal. “’Tis as if my magic only comes in times of danger or stress, like fighting a fire or falling off a cliff.”

  Or mayhap ’twas my fear of ending up as mad as Roseman’s jeweler that kept me from using it unless my life was in peril. Though I’d once summoned it to calm her, as well—which made as little sense as all else that came with this strange, unwanted Gift.

  “Then what about the man who made these,” Lianna touched the collar about her neck. “He may have been mad, but he was directing his magic with conscious thought. Even if he couldn’t make mine work like Gervase’s did.”

  “What do you mean?” The stone at her throat glowed as surely as the sun. “Don’t they both go out if one of you dies, or sheds the collar?”

  Or killed Atherton Roseman. ’Twas a thought that lingered in my mind more than I liked. I understood, too well, why the orphans had demanded their price.

  “Yes, but Gervase’s collar is worse than that. They had to let him go on being captain of the Liege Guard, you see. Or the Liege would simply send someone else, and he thought too many deaths would be suspicious.”

  She seldom used Roseman’s name if she could avoid it, and his presence in the house left her tense and oppressed. If nothing else, helping me had given her something positive to do. But I was recalling the conversation between the Rose and his jeweler on the night my collar had been created.

  “Roseman wanted the collars to go dark if either Fisk or I even thought of betraying him, only the jeweler said ’twould take too much time. But surely they couldn’t do that!”

  “I’m not sure if they could or not,” she said. “But since Gervase couldn’t help but think about destroying him all the time, that would have been useless. But that poor madman did somehow manage his spell so that if Gervase ever acts upon his desires, if he ever starts to do anything he knows might harm that man, then both our collars go dark.”

  “But how could a…a glowing stone know what he intends? Or what he does? How can a bit of glass know anything?”

  “How could it know if you killed the Rose?” She smiled sadly. “I’m afraid the answer is; ’tis magic.’”

  “And I have some access to magic, which is why Fisk thrust this task on me. But I’ve no idea how to make it do this.” />
  “Well, the jeweler couldn’t either,” she said. “Not always. Or I couldn’t be helping you now. He blamed it on my being a woman, said my mind was too alien for him to reach or some such thing. But it could simply be that his magic failed him. Or he couldn’t control it. And it might be that his magic is of a different kind than yours, too.”

  “Or it could be that he knows what he’s doing, and I don’t,” I finished ruefully. “But I won’t give up. Though if danger can get this gem to glow, we should be able to light up a chandelier!”

  It made her laugh, as ’twas meant to, but I wasn’t lying. Fisk was right—one of us had to be able to get out of these curst things without killing the other before we could even escape. Much less bring down the Rose.

  * * *

  A few days later, one of Roseman’s carriages rolled up to the gate—and this time Lianna was waiting in the hall when the doors opened, quivering with eagerness. For behind Jack Bannister came the captain of the High Liege’s guard.

  Despite Roseman’s presence, despite Bannister’s smirk, she shot forward and into her husband’s arms.

  They did not kiss, but simply clung to each other with a desperation painful to witness.

  “Where’s my hostage?” I asked it more to pull attention away from them than because I thought ’twould do any good. “You promised that Fisk and I could meet every few weeks.”

  “I’m breaking it,” said Roseman easily. “At least for now. Master Fisk is doing good work for me, and I don’t want him to stop. Master Markham here,” he gestured to Jack, who went by so many last names there was no point in keeping track. “He’ll go back and assure Fisk you’re still in one piece.”

  “As if either of us would take his word.” But I knew that Fisk was still alive—because without him, they had no further use for me.

  “He’s fine,” said Jack. “If a bit frustrated. He’s still trying to plot his way out of the snare, I think, but he’s not having any luck. He’ll settle down eventually.”

  “As you did?” I asked. “Like a tamed cur?”

  The Rose laughed, but Jack’s grin only widened. And ’twas true—I delivered insults only because I couldn’t do them any harm that mattered.

  And I needed to think of a way to cause such harm, or the orphans wouldn’t bear my message to Fisk even if I found some way to escape these cursed collars!

  Lianna and her husband had already slipped out, followed by at least six guards, so I departed as well.

  * * *

  I couldn’t avoid the dinner—they sent a servant to fetch me.

  From sheer cruelty, they’d put Lianna and her husband on opposite sides of the table. They’d placed me next to her, mayhap attempting to make Dalton jealous in addition to the rest of his woes. But since she spent the whole meal trying to eat him with her eyes, ’twas wasted effort on their part. As for Dalton, I’m not sure he even knew I was there.

  Since there was no one present to impress, Roseman was conducting business at the table, a secretary in attendance since Wiederman had departed in the carriage that had brought Jack and Lianna’s husband. Evidently one of his two henchmen had to be in the city at all times.

  “We’ve got eight of the riders on our payroll already,” the secretary was saying. “But that still leaves three who might try to beat Red Thorn. And two of their horses are pretty fast.”

  “Deal with it however you must.” Roseman was spooning gravy over a thick slice of lamb. “If you run into trouble let Wiederman know. I won’t place any bet till it’s settled.”

  “Of course not,” I said. “That might entail real risk. Requiring real nerve.”

  “I never take risks,” Roseman said. “I never bet, unless it’s a sure thing. You should know that by now, Master Sevenson.”

  I started to say that a gang of children was still beating him, but I had no desire to provoke him into action against the orphans. They were all too eager to do that on their own.

  My hesitation left a silence, which Jack broke. “And you shouldn’t be so contemptuous of fixing races. Unless you’re prepared to despise Fisk.”

  “Fisk is a better man than you think him,” I said. Though I’d no doubt he’d have fixed a race, back in the day when he was Jack’s apprentice instead of my squire. “He’s changed.”

  “He was always too soft,” Jack said. “It was the one bad habit I couldn’t break him of.”

  “Was that why you two separated?” Roseman asked. “You never told me why you dumped him.”

  “It wasn’t exactly that,” Jack said. “Though the scam would have worked if he’d played his mark the way he was supposed to.”

  He had the attention of everyone except the lovers now, for Fisk hardly ever speaks of his past.

  Jack was one of those who relished an audience, and he took a sip of wine to make us wait.

  “It was a lost mine scam. We already had the first payment in our pocket, and the heir’s father was not a man you wanted to cross. But Fisk let the heir get out from under his control, and the whole thing was about to come unraveled.”

  He took another sip.

  “I had to throw the law a bone, as it were.”

  “You left him.” Even knowing what I did of the man, I could hardly believe it. “You left your partner to take the blame while you ran. With this ‘first payment,’ no doubt! Fisk could have been years working off such a debt. He could have been flogged or maimed.”

  “Well, he wouldn’t have been hanged,” Jack said. “Because we didn’t kill anyone. All else can be survived, or escaped from eventually. And he clearly did escape, so no harm done.”

  None but the harm such a terrible betrayal must have done Fisk’s heart.

  “He wouldn’t have been hurt.” Jack must have read my curst, open face. “Or he shouldn’t have been. I taught him right from the start to never trust anyone. This was just the final lesson.”

  No wonder it had taken me so long to win Fisk’s trust.

  The Rose laughed aloud at Jack’s so-called wit—which would have told me a great deal about what kind of man he was, except I already knew it.

  He went on to discuss a few more details of the horse race he was fixing, and some other business as well. But horses are something I know a bit about, and as I listened a plot that solved at least one of my problems was born.

  That night, I wrote a detailed letter, not for Fisk, but to the orphans.

  And Lianna was delighted to give me a small but nearly-full bottle of laudanum to send with it.

  Roseman’s men intercepted Kathy’s letter. I should have expected it, since I’d told her we’d be in Tallowsport long enough to get a reply. But I’d forgotten all about that…until Wiederman came in, snickering, and handed it over. Once I’d read it, I understood why.

  You can joke about slaying monsters all you want, she’d written. But I haven’t been writing to you all these years, without being able to tell that you’re not really joking. Take care. For yourself, as well as Michael.

  “Roseman wants you to reply,” said Wiederman. “Tell her your monster turned out to be a mouse, or something stupid like that. Markham or I will read it before you send it.”

  I’d already noticed that he and Jack used each other’s last names, and wondered how I could use the animosity between them. But I wrote a letter to Kathy, as commanded. Knowing that Roseman would probably read it made my prose stiffer than usual, but she should be reassured to learn that our dragon had been captured by the town guard, as soon as Michael’s antics had drawn their attention.

  I felt no more guilt deceiving her than I would have cheating a mark, back when I was with Jack—less, because this was for her own good. I just hoped she couldn’t tell that I was lying through my teeth—the last thing any of us needed was for Kathy to turn up, looking for her brother. Which was yet another reason to get on with the plan…

  * * *

  Roseman and Jack soon returned, but in the week they were absent I recruited three more shipmaster
s who were willing to let me sacrifice them to the Rose.

  One, who had no family to worry about, had already departed on a scheduled voyage—with no intention of coming back. Another was about to visit his mother in Gittings, which hadn’t been planned, but he went there often enough that no one would find it odd. Rigsby and the fourth man were prepared to flee at a moment’s notice, Rigsby and his family by sea. The other’s cousin had been put in the stocks. It took more than a month before his neck was right again. He’d agreed to pretend to leave by sea, but then slip ashore and carry my evidence to the High Liege’s guard post at Gollford.

  Once I managed to acquire evidence.

  The problem was that even if I proved the Rose was fencing an enormous amount of stolen goods, that wasn’t enough to bring the High Liege’s troops down on him. Proof of the wide spread “city tax” would probably do it…but I still hadn’t gotten my hands on those ledgers!

  I knew what I needed to do, but this was more risky than a normal burglary—and they’re risky enough! I kept trying to find some other way. But I also knew that sooner or later I’d encounter a captain who’d give my game away. Two had already reported to the Rose that I’d tried to get a bribe out of them, but since that was what I was supposed to be doing the Rose told them he’d take care of it.

  Those who didn’t hate and fear Roseman were surprisingly loyal, which made what Michael and I were trying to do even more dangerous.

  I was studying yet another ship’s books—a task that became more boring the more I did it—when a guest rode through the gate and up the short drive to the town house.

  This had happened before. I was told to dine in the kitchen, or in my room, when the Master had dinner guests. But this man arrived in the daytime, and I pressed close to the window to watch him dismount and walk up to the door. Some country baron, from the look of him, prosperous and respectable.