Duke of Minds (Master of Monsters Book 4)

by Stephen L. Hadley

  “Mate!” she exclaimed. “Thessse onesss sssay you were attack-k-ked. Why wasss I not told? You mussst remain c-c-clossse! I ssshall protect-c-ct you.”

  Leo hesitated. Ordinarily, it would have taken only a few choice words to calm the drakonid’s protective instincts. But the tightening of Karran’s grip on his arm and the jealousy he detected in her steely-eyed glare stayed his tongue.

  “You already are,” he explained. “No one else can fly like you, Sann. I need you to watch the palace from above. That way, you can warn us before anything happens.”

  Sann grumbled softly, the sound escaping more as a hiss than a growl.

  “Very well,” she said, at last. “I ssshall obey you in thisss.”

  “Thank you,” he said. He leaned in, kissing her brow squarely between her curling, ebony horns, then turned and repeated the intimacy with Karran. It was a delicate balancing act. But, given the fact that neither the drakonid nor the ambrosian did more than frown at one another, he counted it a success.

  By now, the last of the servants had been dispatched, all save Brigit and Delia. The latter smiled shyly at Leo then offered a belated curtsey. Brigit, however, was engaged in quiet conversation with Cirilla. And, as it concluded, she stiffened at the sight of Leo. Recovering, she whispered something to Delia that sent the younger woman trotting off. Then, with visible reluctance, she shuffled toward him.

  “Give us a moment,” Leo murmured, nudging Karran and Sann. Neither one looked particularly happy about it, but they released their grips on his arms and retreated a respectable distance.

  “Master,” Brigit said, curtseying and averting her eyes. Her words came in an uncharacteristic mumble. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I don’t know what I would have done if… if you’d been hurt.”

  “Bri?” Leo said, alarmed. Reaching out, he cupped the woman’s chin and turned her face towards him. “What’s wrong? This isn’t like you.”

  “It’s my fault!” Brigit exclaimed. She sniffled, hastily wiping the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. “That girl, Clara, she was one of the—one of the servants I hired! You remember? Back when I complained that we didn’t have enough help? I’m so sorry! It’s my fault that… that she was…”

  Leo pulled her into his arms. He embraced her tight, cradling the back of her head and murmuring gentle words.

  “You have nothing to apologize for, Bri,” he assured her. “And I’m perfectly fine. Honestly, I’m glad! I was worried that they’d managed to trick us into hiring a full-fledged assassin. This is much simpler.”

  Brigit pulled back and gave a laugh that was more than half sob. She wiped her eyes again, with a palm this time, and then rolled them exaggeratedly.

  “How the hell is that simpler?” she said.

  “No clue,” Leo admitted, chuckling. “But I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

  Brigit laughed again. Her eyes were growing red around the edges, but the guilt and grief had mostly left them. Shaking her head, she met his gaze.

  “You’d better,” she said with mock severity. “The beds here are way more comfortable than our old ones. And I don’t intend to give that up.”

  There was something of an unspoken invitation to her words, one that Leo was sorely tempted to act on. Certainly far more tempted than he’d been by Clara’s. Brigit had been his first, after all. But, under the circumstances, he contented himself with giving her arm an affectionate squeeze.

  “Good,” he said. “Did Cirilla give you any instructions?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Then I will. We can’t be sure that Clara was the only servant our enemies managed to turn. I want you to search the servants’ quarters from top to bottom. Discretely. Look for anything unusual. Knives, remotely poisonous herbs, stashes of coin. Find anything out of the ordinary and you come straight to me or Cirilla. Don’t touch anything you find, just make a note of it.”

  Brigit frowned and leaned in closer. “Don’t touch it?” she asked.

  “That’s right. We’ll keep an eye on anyone suspicious, but we can’t afford to be hasty. If the counts know that we’ve caught their assassin, they’re liable to just move onto the next available servant. This way, we may be able to discover who the patrons are.”

  “Understood,” she said, nodding. “I’ll handle it. Just… stay safe, Leo.”

  “Always,” he promised.

  He watched her go, if only for a moment, then turned his gaze to Cirilla. His wife was staring at him. And, judging by her expression, growing less patient by the second.

  “Sorry,” he said, approaching. “Just clearing some things up.”

  Cirilla dismissed his apology with a flippant gesture and headed for the door before he’d even reached her side. He might have taken it for a deliberate slight if not for the way Karran and Sann immediately returned to flank him. They crowded so near, tails brushing his knees, that there would obviously have been no room for another person.

  He grinned. It had been only a few months since they were married and Cirilla already knew his servants well enough to accommodate their peculiarities.

  The guards formed up around them as they headed for the door. There were roughly a dozen of them, plus Nyssa and her apprentices. That alone would have been sufficient to protect them from the worst Ansiri could offer, even without the addition of Karran and Sann. But, as they stepped out into the dim, morning sunlight, one absence in particular caught Leo’s attention.

  “Where’s Lucius?” he asked.

  Cirilla glanced at him, and then around. The cobblestone plaza surrounding the Ministry was almost empty at such an early hour, but she turned back and guided him through the doors, regardless. Only once they were securely shut did she speak.

  “He’s questioning the girl,” she said. “He’s not very happy about it, either. Said to thank you for taking away what little free time he had. Apparently, he plans on returning to the garrison this afternoon.”

  Leo nodded. “Any reason?” he asked.

  Cirilla shrugged, leaning against the door and resting a hand on its bronze knob.

  “Not particularly,” she said. “Training the slaves isn’t going as fast as he’d like, and he thinks the sergeants we borrowed from the Watch are responsible.”

  “And are they?”

  She shrugged again. “Who can say? They’re certainly not happy to be training elves, despite what we’re paying them. Most of them prefer beating slaves to teaching them. But, if I had to guess, I’d say Lucius is just frustrated. At last count, we had twelve thousand conscripts and a whopping fifty men and one elf to train them. We're asking a great deal.”

  “Can we spare anyone else?”

  Cirilla barked a dry laugh and glared. Not at him, of course, but past him.

  “We’ve already spared more than we can,” she declared. “Between deserters and the sergeants, the Watch is spread too thin. The riot this morning proved that much.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the Watch. What about the elves we bought from Nicolo?” At his words, a few of the guards shifted uneasily. “They’re loyal and well-trained. Couldn’t we spare a few to help train the conscripts?”

  “We need them here,” Cirilla said, shaking her head. Her eyes widened ever so slightly in a significant, warning look. “Sending them to the Watch won’t help anything either. Most of the Watch won’t patrol alongside them and the people aren’t used to having non-humans keep the peace. It’ll just add to the rumors, or worse. Besides, there are what? A little over a hundred who can use a sword? That’s barely enough to guard the Ministry, much less the treasury. All it would take is a few clever thieves and—”

  “Fine. You’ve made your point,” Leo interrupted, grimacing. He folded his arms and gestured at the door with an elbow. “Let’s go clean up this mess.”

  Cirilla opened her mouth as if to continue and promptly shut it. She repeated this twice more. Then, shaking herse
lf, she turned and led him back outside. The morning air was cold and still. And despite the brightening sunlight, neither fact seemed likely to change.

  Chapter Two

  The riot had taken place in a broad, merchant-class market square only a few minutes’ walk from the Ministry. Even before he reached the edge of it, Leo could tell exactly what had happened. It wasn’t the first time, after all, though this most recent unrest was certainly far worse than its predecessors.

  Dozens of market stalls had been overturned. Some lay broken and trampled, mere piles of broken wood and sturdy canvas. Others had simply been ransacked. Here and there, a few farmers and merchants trudged through the debris, faces downcast as they gathered up what remained of their wares. Some even dug through the wreckage, sweeping up a handful of loose grain or half of a crushed apple that had been overlooked by the looters.

  Several members of the Watch assisted as best they could, helping lift sturdier planks or soothing irate merchants with abstract promises of justice.

  “Let me guess,” Leo muttered, halting as they reached the square. “They went after the food?”

  “Obviously,” Cirilla said, her voice equally low. “The whole city’s wound tight. And with good reason. It’ll be another month until the farms start planting again. There’s enough in reserve that we’d normally be fine, but…”

  “But nobody expected an extra twelve thousand mouths to feed,” Leo concluded glumly. “I’ve already spoken to Summers about that. The fleet has collected nearly every slave south of Baymouth by now so I’ve tasked them with gathering supplies from the plantations we control. It won’t be popular, but nobody will starve.”

  “But nobody will know, either. Rather, they can’t know. If we spread the word, the rioting would stop. But as soon as the news reaches Grey or Bordeau, they’ll know exactly what we’re planning.”

  “I know that,” Leo growled. He ground his teeth as he watched the merchants. “Seven hells, I never thought ruling would be this frustrating. I could solve this shit with a word.”

  Cirilla touched him gently on the arm. At once, Karran stepped back to make room for her.

  “I know you could. And you’re clever enough to know why you can’t,” Cirilla said. Her eyes twinkled. “Well, barely. Fortunately, that means you’re still clever enough to turn this to your advantage.”

  Leo snorted. He could tell blatant flattery from praise, though his wife’s tone carried notes of both. He was just about to comment on that very fact when a commotion a short distance away caught his attention.

  Three of the four parties involved were members of the Watch. Two had drawn their swords. The third, however, was unarmed. His blade rested against his own neck, held there by a lithe wisp of a woman with short, dark hair and dangerously narrowed eyes.

  “Stand down!” Leo ordered, racing toward the scene. The suddenness of his movements surprised his guards who ran to avoid being outpaced. “You two, stand down! Davin, let him go.”

  Davin’s eyes met his and, for an instant, Leo thought she planned to refuse. Then, with a grim smirk, she peeled the sword from the man’s throat and offered it to him, hilt-first. Stunned, the man accepted it.

  “That’ll be all then, boys,” Davin announced. She bowed mockingly to the men. “Looks like we’ll have to save it for another day.”

  “Your Excellency!” exclaimed one of the men as Leo approached. “This woman attacked us! With your permission, I—”

  “Denied,” Leo said. He smiled, idly noting the rank insignia on the guard’s sleeve. “I commend your sense of duty, Corporal, but I hardly think she’s worth it. Your time is too valuable to spend on troublemakers like her.”

  “But, sir!” the man gasped. Realizing his mistake, the man reddened. “Sorry—Your Excellency. This woman is known to us. She’s dangerous!”

  “And I’m counting on the men of the Watch to keep us safe,” Leo insisted, as patiently as he could manage. He nodded toward the ruined market. “But right now, we have bigger concerns. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  The corporal hesitated. He eyed the square, his men, Davin, and finally Leo, all in turn. Then, with a scowl that bordered on insubordinate, he nodded and led his fellows away. They did not go far.

  “I feel safer already,” Davin muttered sourly.

  “Stop that,” Leo snapped. “I have enough problems without adding dead watchmen to the mix. What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you,” she said. Her usual, wolfish grin returned, if only for a moment. “Or rather, I was. Until one of those fine, distinguished gentlemen made a rather… uncouth comment. And that’s something, coming from me.”

  “I apologize for his behavior,” Leo said. It grated him to take responsibility for such a thing, even with Davin. But if a moment’s humility could help keep the peace, he’d gladly pay that price. “So why were you looking for me?”

  One of Davin’s brows quirked upward. “Your lovely harem didn’t inform you?” she asked.

  Leo did not smile. Cirilla and the others had afforded them a respectful distance, but they were still well within earshot. He remained silent, just long enough to make his displeasure known.

  “You sent messengers,” he said, at last.

  “That I did. One of whom was supposed to request a meeting.” She canted her head. “No doubt you were otherwise occupied at the time.”

  “Davin.” He spoke her name as a warning.

  “Gods below, you’re no fun at all anymore.” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “An associate of mine, call him a vassal if you will, has some information he wanted to share. And an offer.”

  Leo nodded, permitting himself to relax. While he enjoyed Davin’s irreverence every bit as much as Petre VanAllen’s, he preferred to appreciate it less publically. It was uncomfortable to feel others’ eyes upon him, judging him. Trading secrets and favors, however, was quite a different story.

  Davin gestured, just a casual flick of her wrist. Immediately, a trio of middle-aged men that Leo had taken for merchants abandoned their empty stall and marched over. They were dressed simply in the drab, utilitarian trousers and tunics of merchants. Though, now that he’d taken notice of them, it seemed amazing that he’d failed to spot them lounging while the rest of the square labored.

  “Yer Excellency,” said the man at the fore. He sported a plain linen cap, decorated with a few mismatched feathers that looked suspiciously as though they’d been plucked off the street. Lifting it slightly from his head, he gave a shallow bow. “Pleasure t’meet ye at last.”

  “Likewise,” Leo said. He glanced at Davin.

  “This is Amos,” she explained. “I’ve known him, oh, a couple of years now. Smart man. I’ve actually got him running security at the Cat’s Embrace now. Remember that old thing? Anyway, Amos here has got some information I suspect you’ll be interested in.”

  “Aye, that I do,” Amos said. He grinned, revealing a row of unnaturally white teeth. “I know four o’ the louts that started this mess. And better yet, I’ve a decent notion which noble bastard put ‘em up to it.”

  Leo turned, met Cirilla’s eye, and jerked his head. She joined him immediately.

  “How did you discover such a thing?” he asked.

  Amos lifted his linen cap a second time and bowed to Cirilla, far deeper than he had to Leo. “Like Davin said,” he explained. “I keep an eye on things at the Cat. Couple o’ nights back, these fellas wandered in an’ started spendin’ freely. More coin than their sort ought to ‘ave. I had a few ‘o the girls ask while they was entertaining and one o’ the fella let slip they’d been hired for a job by some noble prick. Didn’t seem like much at the time, but now? I reckon they’re the ones responsible.”

  “And let me guess,” Leo said. “You’d like to be compensated for sharing such valuable secrets.”

  Amos laughed, shaking his head. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Excellencies, but I know better than to keep such things to m’self. It’s Davi
n that keeps a roof over m’head. I told her straightaways. The reason I asked t’speak to yer lordships is in case ye wanted the matter handled… discretely. Me and m’boys can handle the louts and the noble bastard. Just say the word. Davin tells me yer good for the coin.”

  Leo started to respond, but Cirilla beat him to it.

  “Thank you for coming to us,” she said. Slipping her arm around Leo’s, she squeezed just hard enough to count as a wordless warning. “And for your offer. Please give us a moment to discuss it.”

  Leo bristled, but rather than contradict her publically, contented himself with curt nods to both Davin and Amos. He allowed himself to be led politely out of earshot, then wrenched his arm free of his wife’s and folded it.

  “I don’t appreciate being steered,” he growled softly. “I’m not a fool.”

  “I know you’re not,” Cirilla replied with matching hostility. “But you are impatient. You’re not planning on accepting the offer, are you?”

  He hadn’t been, but their exchange was making him contrary. “Perhaps,” he said. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  Cirilla’s eyes narrowed and looked briefly as though she planned a cutting retort. Then she sighed and looked around.

  “Because the last thing Ansiri needs right now is greater instability,” she said. “Leo, the whole city knows that you and the nobles are at each other’s throats. If nobles start dying under suspicious circumstances, even if there is no proof that you’re involved, everyone will naturally assume we’re responsible. We can’t afford further violence. Not now. Wait until after Grey and the other counts are defeated. Then we can focus on punishing those working against us.”

  “You want me to wait?” he demanded. “To do nothing?”

  “I never said do nothing. Have Davin and Amos question the commoners if you must. Find out who’s truly responsible. Use that knowledge to guard against further attacks. But, please, don’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

  Leo gnashed his teeth. It went against every instinct he had to simply sit on his hands and do nothing—which was exactly what Cirilla was suggesting, despite her assurances to the contrary. But deep down, he knew she was correct. Targeting the mastermind behind the recent troubles, as he would have before becoming Duke, was an unnecessary escalation. For all he knew, that might be precisely what his enemy was after.