Queen of Thieves Box Set

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Queen of Thieves Box Set Page 93

by Andy Peloquin


  Rhynd loomed over Allon. "Put some sting into it, Master Hound." His eyes narrowed. "Unless you're the kind of man who thinks being a soft, sniveling rat is acceptable, even among the Grubbers."

  Allon bared his teeth. "Oh, I'm just getting started!" He seized Ilanna's ear and began dragging her away. "By the time I'm done with you," he shouted at her, "you'll wish you were dead."

  Ilanna didn't dare look back at the huge thug, but could feel Rhynd's and Blinton's eyes following her. Shoulders tightening, she reached for a throwing dagger. She'd be ready if he tried to stop them, if Allon's ruse failed.

  No call came. Allon kept a firm hold on her collar as he marched her through the tunnels. "Keep moving," he said without moving his lips.

  He raised his voice loud enough for Rhynd to hear. "The bruises may fade and your bones may heal, but the lessons will stick with you forever."

  "Where are we going?" Ilanna hissed.

  "House Hound," Allon whispered. "I'm getting you out of here before anyone else spots you. That disguise of yours might fool a Voramian, but any Hound or Serpent is bound to recognize you."

  They'd rounded two corners, leaving the Voramians far behind. Ilanna shrugged off his grip. "We'll move faster if you stop dragging me." She rubbed her cheek. "Good thinking, that."

  Allon winced. "Sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else to get him off your back."

  Ilanna gave a dismissive wave. "Better you than him." She gave him an impish smile. "He hits a little harder."

  The double doors leading to House Hound stood at the far end of a long, straight tunnel. Twin amber-colored gemstones twinkled in the eyes of the hound etched into the face. Long, curving canines served as the door handles.

  Within the Kennel, House Hound's grand chamber, row after row of shelves stood against the wall. Swords, longbows, crossbows, grappling hooks, ropes, and other tools of the Hound trade sat in precise order. Detailed maps of Praamis, Voramis, and the landscape of the south of Einan covered an entire wall. Another bore dozens of parchments depicting the faces, names, and details of their quarry.

  A single Journeyman stood within the enormous room, studying a map of Icespire, a city on the coast of the Frozen Sea far to the south. The man didn't even glance at them.

  Allon dragged her down a side passage, toward a heavy iron-banded door. "Master Hound's office."

  Ilanna tugged on the handle. "Locked."

  Allon nodded. "Been that way ever since the raid. The Purge, the Bloody Hand is calling it."

  "Bastards!" Ilanna snarled. "I'll have it open in a flash."

  "No." Allon stepped in front of her. "Keep an eye out. I'll get it." He drew a set of lockpicks from within his robes.

  Ilanna snatched them from him before he could complain. She knelt and set to work. "Since when do you pick locks?"

  "A few years now," Allon replied. "You wanted to keep us a secret, so I had to find a reason to hang around House Hawk. Your friend Denber was kind enough to let me use your Treasure Room to learn."

  The name of her dead friend brought a lump to Ilanna's throat. "Why didn't you tell me? It could have come in handy on the Lord Auslan job."

  "I figured you already knew. The way he talked about you, I thought you two were close."

  Ilanna swallowed. Once, she and Denber had been close. He had trained her since her first day in House Hawk. He'd defended her from Conn, helped her learn the skills of a Hawk. He'd been the closest thing to an older brother until the day Ethen died. She'd changed that day. She'd grown harder, colder, more ruthless. She hadn't needed Denber, or so she told herself. Even after he covered for her with Master Hawk and helped her conceal Kodyn's existence. He'd tried in his quiet way to reach out to her, and she'd pushed him away.

  "Got it!" The lock clicked and Allon pushed the office door open. The reek of dried, rotted blood filled the spacious room. Allon lit an alchemical lamp, and the light shone on a scene of death and chaos. Master Hound's papers lay scattered across the floor. A black pool stained the plush rug beside the House Master's bed. Bernard, former Master of House Hound, had died in his sleep.

  "This way." Allon tugged her toward the shelf at the far end of the room. He reached for the figurine of a hound, and the bookcase slid aside to reveal a hidden door.

  Ilanna raised an eyebrow. "You know about these hidden passages?"

  "Of course!" Allon said. "We Hounds know all the secret ways in and out of the Guild. I'm just surprised you do. Clearly Master Hawk trusted you a great deal."

  Yet another name that brought a pang of sorrow. Master Hawk had known of Kodyn's existence from the beginning. He'd never said anything to her, simply done what he could to protect her and her son. She would never have a chance to thank him.

  Allon looked her over. "The disguise is good, but you need something to cover your face. Scarf around your neck to hide your jawline. A bit of clay for a boil, and a lot more mud. You'd look gorgeous with an eye patch."

  Ilanna snorted. Flirting, at a time like this?

  "There are a lot of people who will recognize you, Ilanna. Everyone in the Night Guild knows your face. You need to stay out of sight."

  She nodded. "I will."

  "What were you doing here? What could be so important you would risk coming?"

  Ilanna hesitated. Allon had just saved her from Rhynd, brought her into his House and given her a way to escape the Night Guild. Though House Hound had chosen for the Bloody Hand, he'd insisted he voted against. He'd proven his value to her time and again. She could trust him, couldn't she?

  "I came to give warning. Something's going to happen soon." She held up a hand. "I can't say what, but you'll know it when it comes. When it happens, Errik's going to be ready to fight back. We're going to drive the Bloody Hand out of here."

  Allon paled. "There are too many of them. We'll be slaughtered."

  Ilanna shook her head. "Trust me, Allon. We have a real chance of taking back our home."

  The Hound studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Understood. We'll do what we can to be ready."

  "Good." Ilanna strode to the hidden door. "Where does this let out?"

  "A dry section near the Ward of Refuge. The tunnels there should be mostly empty, but the Ward itself is crawling with Guild and the Bloody Hand. They've been on high alert since spotting you this morning."

  Ilanna gritted her teeth. "Damn it."

  Allon shook his head. "I'm sorry. I've sent as many Hounds as I can on other jobs, but I've no control over the Foxes or Grubbers. And Rhynd has his men on the streets all day long. He has a full third sleeping during the day so they can patrol the streets at night."

  "How many men does he have? A hundred?"

  Allon's brow furrowed. "Closer to two hundred, I think."

  Ilanna's gut twisted. Two hundred hardened fighters occupying the tunnels of the Night Guild. Did the Duke have enough Arbitors and Praamian Guards?

  "But they're not in the tunnels all at the same time." Allon rubbed his jaw. "Most of them are out on the streets, either looking for you or keeping the Journeymen and apprentices in line. Rhynd hasn't wasted a moment taking over."

  Ilanna sneered. "Let him enjoy it while it lasts." She would be back to deal with the Bloody Hand soon enough.

  She stepped into the tunnel, but Allon grabbed her arm. "Be careful, Ilanna. Last thing I want is for you to end up dead."

  Ilanna gave him a wry smile. "Always." She depressed the trigger and the door rumbled slowly closed. Her last glance at Allon revealed the Hound framed in the soft glow of lamplight, a worried frown twisting his face.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ilanna slipped across the warehouse rooftop, careful to step only on the support beams. Her dark grey cloak blended with the evening shadows. The watching eyes of the Bloody Hand or Night Guild would never spot her.

  Torchlight shone through a narrow window set in the roof of the warehouse. Ilanna slid the window open and slithered through the gap. Her soft-soled boots landed on the warehou
se's upper floor without a sound. She moved with caution; she couldn't alert the men gathered below. Like a feline on the prowl, she lowered herself over the balcony railing, hung from her hands, and dropped to the warehouse floor.

  "Good evening, Duke Phonnis."

  The Duke whirled, eyes going wide. His and ten more swords cleared their scabbards, and a wall of steel ringed Ilanna.

  She merely crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at the red-faced Duke before her. "I trust you received my message."

  Duke Phonnis' jaw worked, but no sound came out. Ilanna suppressed a grin. She'd chosen this warehouse for her meeting with the Duke because of that rooftop access. She needed to throw the Duke off-balance—and keep him that way—long enough to accept her next demands.

  "I have what you desire," she said. "But before I deliver it, I will have a promise from you."

  The Duke stared at her, a mixture of surprise, outrage, and disbelief dancing across his face. "What do you want?"

  "Your word that you will allow the Night Guild to surrender."

  Duke Phonnis narrowed his eyes. "What?"

  Ilanna met his suspicion with cool confidence. "I have spoken to my…associates within the Guild. Many of whom have reason to hate the Bloody Hand as much as you and I. They will battle the Voramians to the bitter end, but I have convinced them that there is no need to fight your men. After all, you are coming to their aid. Thus, I swore that you would allow any who throw down their weapons to surrender. And I gave them your word that their surrender would be accepted."

  Anger flashed in the Duke's gaze. "Why in the bloody hell would I honor that promise? You are nothing but common criminals!"

  "Because I will not give you what you want until you have given me your word."

  The Duke bared his teeth. "You would renege on our agreement?" He waved around him. "Search her."

  Ilanna whipped out a pair of daggers. "The first man who lays a finger on me will die screaming." She eyed the blue-robed Arbitors around her. None looked particularly afraid of her, but none made a move toward her. Tension showed in more than a few hands gripping sword hilts. "I do not renege, Duke Phonnis. I am simply adding to the terms. I will give you what you want and, in return, you will give me what I want. Surely it is a fair deal."

  The Duke frowned and tugged at his lip. Ilanna could see the wheels in his mind turning, weighing up her request against the value of what she offered. He gave a slight wave. "Leave her." The Arbitors stepped back. He held out a hand. "You have my word."

  Ilanna shook her head. "Say it for all to hear."

  Duke Phonnis' brow furrowed, and he rolled his eyes. "I swear—"

  "On your honor as Chief Justiciar of Praamis."

  "I swear, on my honor as Chief Justiciar of Praamis, that I will permit any of the Night Guild who throw down their weapons to surrender."

  "And they will be allowed to walk free," Ilanna insisted.

  "Don't push your luck, thief!" Duke Phonnis spat. "Your comrades will be permitted to surrender, but they will not escape justice."

  Ilanna shrugged. She'd expected as much. "You'll have to prove their guilt before the Royal Tribunal before you sentence them."

  The Duke's frown deepened. "As you say," he growled.

  Ilanna gave him a cherubic smile. Clearly, he intended to have every Guild member hauled off for summary execution. If he tries anything, I always have my back-up plan. Grand Reckoner Edmynd's vaults had provided all the leverage she'd need.

  Sheathing her daggers, she reached a hand into her cloak. The silver-armored Arbitors tensed. "Easy, boys." She grinned at the Duke. "Nervous lot, aren't they?"

  "Not every day they have to work with a thief." He spat the last word.

  She shrugged. "They can't be lucky every day." She drew Grand Reckoner Edmynd's ledger from within her cloak. "This might be best discussed away from prying ears. Unless you want the whole of Praamis to find out about the High Priest's shame."

  The Duke raised an eyebrow. "I would and do trust the Arbitors with my life. And my secrets."

  "Perhaps, but secrets are only effective leverage so long as they remain just that." She gestured to the dozen men around her. "If even one word of what I'm about to tell you leaks…"

  Scowling, the Duke nodded. "Leave us," he ordered his men.

  A tall, bearded Arbitor frowned. "But, sir, she's a—"

  "A thief, Captain, not an assassin." The Duke silenced the man's protest with a slash of his hand. "And the day I can't defend myself from a slip of a girl who doesn't even reach my shoulder is the day you can send me out to pasture."

  The Arbitor pounded his fist to his breastplate. "Understood, Commander, sir." With a snap of his fingers, the Arbitor Captain sent the blue-robed guards from the room and pulled the door closed behind him.

  Ilanna tossed the Duke the ledger. "This is everything you need. Show the Grand Reckoner this, and he'll be begging to lick your boots clean."

  The Duke chewed at his lip as he flipped through the book. The more he read, the deeper the furrow in his forehead grew. He looked up at her. "You are certain of this?"

  Ilanna nodded. "There is no doubt about it."

  The Duke studied her, a queer expression in his eyes. "Where did you find it?"

  "Among the Grand Reckoner's possessions." She didn't need to let the Duke know she had access to both his and the priest's most sensitive documents.

  The Duke's eye twitched. He stared down at the book, then back at her. "Captain!"

  The bearded man who'd protested earlier appeared at the door with a bow. "Commander?"

  Ilanna tensed, her hand dropping to her dagger. Had the inevitable betrayal come already? She'd expected the Duke to wait until after he cleansed the tunnels, but—

  Duke Phonnis ignored her. "Is the Royal Scribe standing by, as requested?"

  "She is, Commander."

  "Have her brought here immediately," Duke Phonnis commanded.

  The Arbitor Captain bowed and left the room.

  Ilanna raised an eyebrow. "The Royal Scribe?"

  Duke Phonnis turned his back on her and returned to poring over the map of Praamis he'd been studying when she entered. "I must have confirmation that the ledger truly belongs to the Grand Reckoner, and not some clever forgery." He shot a scowl at her. "You wouldn't be the first to attempt such deceit."

  Ilanna found her interest piqued. "How can you be certain? Is it not written in the Grand Reckoner's hand?" The writing on all the papers and ledgers in the High Priest’s vault had matched this one.

  "It is," Duke Phonnis said. "But handwriting can be imitated."

  Ilanna opened her mouth to ask how, but the arrival of the Royal Scribe forestalled her question.

  "Duke Phonnis, you requested my presence." The slim, dark-haired woman wore thick spectacles that reminded Ilanna of Journeymen Donneh. Ink stained her long, thin fingers and the elbows and forearms of her simple, white robes. "How might I be of service?"

  Duke Phonnis passed her the ledger. "Examine this, Ellara, and tell me if it is genuine."

  "I will do my best, my lord." The scribe opened the book and scanned the pages. "This appears to be in the Grand Reckoner's handwriting."

  "Indeed. But is it a forgery? A clever duplication? Or is it genuine?"

  The scribe drew out a disc of glass. "If you would allow me, my lord?"

  The Duke nodded and stepped aside. Ellara placed the ledger beneath the lamp and bent low to study its contents.

  "It appears to be genuine, my lord," the scribe said. "Though if you have a sample to compare it to…"

  Duke Phonnis handed her a parchment. "This should suffice."

  Bowing, the Royal Scribe placed the paper next to the Grand Reckoner's ledger. "The slant of the handwriting is much the same, and the thickness of the lines as close as expected. If you require a more thorough analysis of the lexicon, I could produce it within a few days."

  The Duke shook his head. "That should not be necessary."

  "S
o be it." The Royal Scribe bowed. "Then, given my initial examination, it appears that this document is, indeed, written by Grand Reckoner Edmynd himself."

  Surprise mixed with satisfaction on the Duke's face. "Thank you, Ellara."

  "Of course, my lord. If that is all—"

  "How would a document like this be forged?" Ilanna asked. "What would be required?"

  Ellara turned to the Duke. "My lord?"

  Duke Phonnis narrowed his eyes. "Why do you ask, thief?"

  Ilanna hesitated. "I have been accused of a crime I did not commit, based on falsified evidence." She pointed to the paper. "If such a forgery is possible, I would know how so I may find the forger and clear my name. Surely even you would not stand in the way of justice being done?"

  The Duke snorted. "Justice? Among thieves?"

  Ilanna shook her head. "Justice is justice, my lord. For thieves and grand nobles alike."

  The Duke's face hardened, his jaw muscles clamped tight. He gave Ellara a curt nod.

  The Royal Scribe turned to Ilanna. "Forgery is an art. To duplicate handwriting, one must first have a sample of the original. From there, it is a simple matter of committing the handwriting style to memory and practicing to match it. Any forgery is possible for an artist of passable skill."

  Ilanna's mind whirled. Someone had imitated Master Gold's handwriting perfectly. She had burned every one of the notes she'd received from him, yet they had somehow appeared on Master Hawk's desk for Bryden to find. Few in the Night Guild bothered to learn to read or write. Perhaps forty or fifty Hawks, Serpents, and Hounds had the ability, and most of House Scorpion was literate—part of their apprentice training, according to Ethen. That meant over a hundred people who could have read or written the notes.

  But how many of them had access to Master Gold's papers? That number was far smaller. Journeyman Entar, certainly, and the Guild Council. Had Bryden not been the one to free her, she would have believed him the forger. As bookkeeper for House Hawk, he would have many written communiques from the Guild Master. Who else? She could think of no one the Guild Master trusted enough to permit access to his private documents—not even her. Then again, Master Gold had many secrets. Perhaps he had had an ally or allies he could trust. Someone on the Guild Council before the Voramians killed them. Had one of them taken the secret of the notes to their grave?

 

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