by John Conroe
My father’s signature was at the bottom, Rucian DelaCrotia, Lord of High Family DelaCrotia. It wasn’t an invitation, but a summary command. I doubt I would have received it if I still appeared to be out of favor, but now my father saw my presence as beneficial to the family standing. Therefore, he was ordering me, from his position as head of the family, to attend. Like he had any power over me. I was already out of any inheritance, had not received support since I was fourteen, had been estranged from the family during my time in the military, been shunned during Brona’s spy ploy, and now he thought to command me. Not likely.
I set both aside for consideration and then went to check with Soshi about Rose.
Two hours later and I was back on Tipton, headed for the castle, a young messenger riding by my side. I glanced at the girl, although she didn’t look at all girlish at the moment.
Rose is small, not even Soshi’s height, and my medical people who have examined her feel that while she is now in excellent health, her lack of nutrition as a very young child may have stunted her adult height. That’s not certain, as she is young yet and eating the best of food, a condition that wouldn’t change if she were placed near Brona. For all her lack of height, though, she made up for it in attitude. Soshi had named her Rose, yet some of the boys called her Fisher, after the fierce carnivore of the forests. Since the Punishment, the fishers of Nengled have gradually grown in average size, now regularly reaching the size of a hound. Already an incredibly aggressive creature, the giant fisher thinks nothing of fighting full-sized war dogs and winning. Our little Miss Rose had much of that attitude and even through her baggy boy clothing and hair-hiding cap, it still shone through in the way she carried herself. Today, though, anyone seeing her slim form in unflattering clothes would likely think her just a confident lad. Close examination might cause them to wonder at the boy’s smooth skin and delicate features, but no one should get that close to her while she was with me.
“Nervous?” I asked.
She was quiet for a moment. Any of the boys we trained would have likely denied it immediately. “A bit. What if she doesn’t like me?”
“You are not there for Her Highness to like or dislike. Your job will be to help protect her.”
“I know that. But it always matters if a woman likes another woman. It’s very hard to have someone around you all the time if you don’t like them.”
“Just be honest with her. Mind your training, keep your eyes and ears open, and tell her anything you see, hear, or even feel.”
“Yes sir,” she said. For a street waif, she’d taken to our command structure and discipline rather well—within certain boundaries. Failure to find sufficient direction for her formidable energy and intellect would result in boredom, followed quickly by chaos.
We were halfway to the castle when a pair of constables appeared through the crowd ahead of us, riding side by side. Rather than move out of the way they studied us (me, really) and then just slowed to a stop, blocking the street.
“Look, if it isn’t the hero,” the taller of the two said to his buddy.
“Everyone’s savior in the night,” his partner said, her expression one of disdain.
“Yup, a right handy one with the poison,” the other said.
Beside me, I sensed Rose shifting in her saddle, straightening as if she were about to say something. I tapped my left hand against my leg lightly. She settled back in her seat.
“And he’s leading yet another young boy down a dark path,” the woman said. “Such a pretty boy too.”
That was about enough of that. Having them focus on Rose was not what I wanted.
“Constables, I sense you have issue with me. Are you asking for satisfaction?” I asked them.
“Satisfaction?” the man asked, confused. “Isn’t that what the boy provides?”
“He’s asking if we want to duel him,” the woman said, eyes locked on me, as I intended. Constables weren’t often challenged to duels.
“I’m fine with both of you at once,” I said. “Give me your names and I’ll get clearance from the crown, all nice and legal. You’re throwing plenty of insults at me; you should back them up properly. Hell, the lord marshal, himself, can oversee it if it pleases you.”
“You’re challenging us?” the man asked, considering it.
“Don’t be a moron, Jed,” his partner said.
“We’d get to pick the weapons,” he said to her, starting to get excited.
“As if that would matter,” she said, sitting upright and clicking to her horse to move. She rode at a diagonal, slightly in front of her partner, eyes on me. “You stay safe now,” she said in a warning tone. After a second of indecision, her partner rode after her, frowning.
When they were past us, I started Tipton forward, Rose following my lead immediately.
“Why?” she asked.
“Why were they being assholes?”
“Yes, and why didn’t you just threaten them with reporting their behavior; why the duel thing?” she asked.
“Your first and second questions have the same answer… the lord marshal. Threatening them with the crown would be seen as cowardly and would only encourage other constables to do the same. But a duel would be the last thing they’d want.”
“Why the lord marshal, and other than you beating them badly, why would a duel be the worst thing?”
“If I brought a complaint to the crown, requesting a duel for my honor, the reasons would have to be announced in His Majesty’s open court. Insulting me for my service to the kingdom would likely piss off the king and embarrass Kiven Armstrong, who has been angry with me since my fall from grace and even more so since Ash, his nephew, went missing.”
She was silent as she absorbed all that. “The constables are throwing you dung because the lord marshal has a bone to pick?”
“He leads the city’s constable force among his other duties. His opinion of me wouldn’t be a secret. Dung flows downhill.”
“Does he not realize your disgrace was just a ploy by the princess and the king?”
“He’s a smart man; I’m sure he does. But he loves his nephew and blames me for his death. Anger often makes even smart people lose their better judgement, as does power. And Kiven has always had something against me.”
“If Her Highness puts me to work, I’ll have to keep an ear and eye open for what he says and does,” she said.
“Yes, but you must do that with everyone else as well.”
We arrived at the castle’s front gateway and were let through without delay, my stock among the royal guards much higher than among Haven’s law enforcement officials. I led Rose through the hallways to the royal offices and into Brona’s antechamber.
Her secretary, Marda, looked up and frowned at me, as did a number of waiting hopefuls seated about the room. “She’s busy.”
“I have important information, Marda.”
“You always do, Captain,” Brona’s formidable secretary said. Marda is rather plain in appearance, which I think causes some to ignore her or discount her. That’s a mistake. She’s very sharp, a keen observer, and tough as nails. Brona backs her completely. If she really wanted to keep me at bay, I’d be facing master-level stonewalling.
“Let me check,” she said, her eyes flicking over Rose in her messenger gear before she pushed back from her desk. She gave me a hard look as she entered the princess’s office.
Rose and I stood where we were and waited, ignoring the stares of the other folks in the waiting room.
A minute or two later, Marda opened the door. “She’ll see you,” was all she said, slipping back out as we went in.
Brona wasn’t behind her desk, instead waiting by her fireplace, staring into the flames. She wore a light blue dress with her hair up in a businesslike bun. She turned when I closed the door, her eyes immediately going to Rose, who curtsied as soon as the princess looked her way.
“Stop. Stand up like you were,” Brona said, eyes narrowing in focus as she studied th
e girl. Approaching, she moved in a circle around Rose, who stood stock still, looking straight ahead.
Studying the girl in boy’s clothes, the princess stopped by my side, almost in front of Rose.
“Take off your cap,” she ordered, although her voice was mild. Rose did as directed. “And let down your hair.”
Rose unpinned her hair and shook it out to its full shoulder length.
“Hmm, you are pretty,” Brona mused, moving directly in front of the girl.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Rose said, eyes straight ahead like she was a soldier.
“Just telling it like it is. Take off your jacket, Rose,” Brona said.
Rose complied without hesitation, which I knew would win her points—or at least not detract any. Brona hates indecision.
Clad in a light linen shirt, her feminine curves were no longer hidden. “You, my dear, are petite, yet perfectly proportioned. Savid says you are capable with a blade.”
“I am trained with knife, short sword, stick, staff, and short spear. Battlemaster Jella has also spent time training me in her unarmed techniques. And Soshi allows that I am passable with a crossbow,” Rose said, still staring straight ahead.
“Words of praise from one of our deadliest snipers,” Brona said. “Okay, let’s have a seat, shall we. I wanted to get a look at you just as you are, but let’s all relax. Savid, Marda left me a pot of caffe… Would you pour?” She took a seat in one of the chairs near the fire, directing Rose to the one across from her with a wave.
“Of course, Your Highness,” I said.
“Enough with the formality. He’s only being like that because he doesn’t want you to get bad habits already.”
“I wouldn’t, Your Highness,” Rose said, sitting stiffly.
“I don’t believe you would, Rose. But let’s just talk. Savid says you are good with math?”
“Yes, Highness. When I was little, I hung around the money man for my den. I learned numbers from him, and he put me to work adding up the daily take. He said I have a gift for rapid addition and subtraction.”
From a side table by her chair, Brona picked up a piece of paper and handed it to Rose. “Does this look accurate to you?”
“No, Highness, it’s off by one,” the girl said instantly. I could see the paper as I brought three cups of caffe over, and on it was a column of about twenty numbers with a total.
“One too many or too little?”
“One short, Your Highness.”
Brona nodded and handed her another paper. This one was a ledger, but with numerous written entries next to each number. Standard reporting method for a farm or estate. The comments explained each number to the reader.
“What do you think of this report?”
Rose read it, her brow beginning to furrow after a moment. “It doesn’t make sense to me, Highness. The words say the crop yields are up, slightly, month over month, but the numbers are in different units of measure. The yield actually went down if this is right, once you convert the measures.”
“Excellent,” Brona said. “Tell me, do you speak any other languages?”
“I know a little Lachian, Highness. The money man was Lachian and he taught me so he could make comments that the crew chiefs wouldn’t understand. Trell has been speaking it with me to bring it back and improve my vocabulary.”
“Better and better,” the princess said, leaning back, her eyes studying Rose but her mind far away. After a moment, Rose finally glanced my way, then back to the princess. Brona smiled.
“Rose, do you have a last name?”
“Not that I remember, but Soshi said I can use hers,” the girl said. “Leighton.”
“Do you understand what that means?” Brona asked.
“That she’s adopted me, Highness. That my behavior and actions reflect upon her name,” Rose said, sitting up a tiny bit straighter as she did.
“True. So, Rose Leighton, I find myself in need of a personal assistant, particularly with regards to business. The candidate must be good with numbers, with strong reading and writing skills, and able to listen and observe carefully. Most important, the candidate must share everything she learns with me, be absolutely loyal, and guard my privacy as well as my person. Does that sound like a job you could handle?”
“Yes, Highness. I will tell you everything. But this candidate will also be ready should you need her blade,” Rose said.
“We will test your abilities with the blade, or I should say, my bodyguard Salis will. Does that scare you?”
“I would love a chance to practice with a Wenkroy warrior, Highness.”
Brona turned to me. “You were right. She could be a definite asset,” she said. Then she turned back to Rose. “Forget you heard me tell him he was right. It goes to his head and he becomes insufferable… more insufferable.”
“Your Highness, I have no idea what you mean? I never heard you say anything about him being right,” Rose said.
“Ah, perfect. You’ll do. Rose, let’s have you get back into boy disguise so you can leave with Savid. Go home and pack your things. Return tomorrow morning at nine and present yourself to Marda out front. Wear a dress. You’ll be living here in the castle, near my suite. Clothing, meals, and expenses will be provided, as well as a living wage. Oh, and bring that messenger outfit with you, but pack it away. It may be useful while you can still pass for a lad, although I doubt that will be an option for too much longer.”
“What about Brent?” I asked.
“He presented himself to Cal this morning,” she replied, referring to her father’s seneschal.
“Do you know Brent, Rose?”
“Yes, Your Highness. We train… trained and schooled together.”
“Very good, but I want you to pretend you don’t know each other. He is known to be associated with Savid. Kiven will definitely recognize his nephew’s nephew. But I want you to be unknown. Leighton is a relatively common surname. You, my dear, are from a family in Rattle. Your father is a factor at one of my apple orchards there. You learned from helping him and showed promise. I recently visited there, so I will say you caught my attention and I had you brought here. Marda will go over the rest of your backstory tomorrow morning. Bring writing supplies; you’ll be hitting the ground at a dead run. Got it?”
“Yes, Highness,” Rose said. She had just put her cap back on and now she stood so straight, she could have passed for a soldier.
“Hmm, we need to relax that military demeanor that Savid always seems to drill into anyone he spends more than two hours with. Also, bring only your personal knives and always keep them very well hidden. A small belt knife for sharpening your pens can be visible, but your deadlier claws need to be well hidden.”
“Yes, Highness. As hidden as they currently are?” Rose asked. It was almost a challenge. Brona glanced at me, her mouth twitching, then she deliberately took the bait, leaning close to study the smallish girl.
“Left forearm?” she guessed, frowning.
“No, Highness.”
“Okay, then I don’t see any. Where?”
“Primary blades are in sheaths on both thighs. My pants pockets have pass-throughs to my legs and are baggy enough to hide them. I also have a throwing knife hanging down the back of my shirt, and a small, extremely sharp blade in a special pants pocket at the small of my back.”
“Formidable, but you’ll be wearing dresses?”
“I usually do. I have a number of special sheaths and harnesses for dresses.”
“Your people are well equipped,” Brona said to me.
“Soshi and Jella designed most of them, Highness, and Mrs. Newberry sews them,” Rose said. “All of the girls at the Knife and Needle have been trained and have at least two knives.”
“Taking such good care of your ladies, Savid,” Brona teased me. Rose blushed slightly as she caught the innuendo.
“Okay, that’ll have to do. I actually don’t have any more time,” the princess said.
“Right. We’ll head out
then,” I said, satisfied that she was satisfied. As I closed the door behind us, she caught my eye, mouthing a silent thank you. What do you get a princess who has everything? Brona loved nothing more than a new spy. Now it was time to see about acquiring one for myself.
Chapter 6
Trell seemed a little nervous as we approached the target, which had me wondering. He had taken relatively well to the world of intelligence; bard training being heavily geared toward information gathering as it was. But he still wasn’t all that good at physical confrontations despite the workouts we were putting him through. But somehow, today’s nerves didn’t seem like they were a fear of violence but rather something else.
The restaurant was quite nice, located on the other side of Haven from the Knife and Needle. In fact, it was almost as far away as you could physically be from my inn and still be inside the city borders.
I couldn’t be certain our target was here, the material I had to Find from being almost nil. Just a tea mug that the target had briefly touched. Trell had taken it from the shop where it belonged, showing excellent instincts. I would have thought the touch on a mug wouldn’t have worked, but it did. Again, I wondered if Trell himself wasn’t part of that reason.
Cautiously, we entered the Velvet Egg, which was rumored to have the best egg-based cuisine in Haven, even for dinner entrees. Trell went first, while I hung back. The dining room was bright and clean, polished oak flooring, white-washed tabletops, and lots of afternoon sunlight flooding in the windows. Upscale and inviting. The owner himself met Trell, but the musician explained he was meeting someone and could already see her sitting at a table by herself.
Moving quickly, Trell stepped over to a table with a very attractive young woman with jet black hair who looked up, shocked. He sat in a smooth motion, using the grace he displayed while dancing, rather than the awkwardness that characterized his attempts at combat.