“Y-yes,” Hale managed, slowly raising his face. It was covered in blood, bruised and swollen to a point that May couldn’t believe the man was able to talk at all. But he wasn’t just talking—he was grinning. “The truth is,” he said, his voice still full of pain but louder now, confident, “you’re an asshole.”
Grinner recoiled in surprise, a whimper of fear escaping, but not fast enough to avoid the bigger man’s thick legs as he swung forward, planting his feet solidly in his stomach. The air exploded from Grinner, and he flew across the cell, slamming against the bars with a bone-rattling crash. The two guards stood as if frozen, staring in wide-eyed wonder at the crime boss’s crumpled form as if they had no idea of what to do.
Then a low moan escaped the old crime boss as he shifted on the floor, his head rising in a jerking twitch, as if each movement was agony. He tried to speak, but at first what came out was no more than an unintelligible sound somewhere between a mewl of pain and a growl. He started to climb haltingly to his feet, and belatedly one of the guards rushed forward, helping him up.
With a hiss, Grinner slapped at the man, and the guard backed up as the crime boss rose, one arm clasped around his stomach, his shoulders hunched. As he stood, May saw that his mask had come off, and she gasped at her first view of his terrible wounds.
For their part, the two guards only stood staring with what might have been a sick fascination. “Well?” Grinner wheezed breathlessly. “W-what are you…fools s-staring at? You s-saw him strike me. Puni…punish him.”
“Oh,” Hale said from where he hung, smiling past his swollen face, and if May could have made the man shut up, she would have, for anything he said would surely only incense the old man further. “The real…punishment’s about to start then? Good I was…starting to get bored. As for why they’re staring…” he continued, each word no doubt a pain but keeping his smile well in place for all that, “that most likely…has something to do with they’ve never…seen anyone so ugly before.”
The few parts of Grinner’s face that weren’t scarred twisted in confusion at that, and one of the guards reached down and picked up his mask from where it had fallen on the cell floor. “Excuse me, sir,” the guard said, holding it out, “but you dropped this.”
Grinner stared at the proffered mask as if it had betrayed him, his ruined face seeming to crumple in upon itself, and, for a moment, a silence descended on the dungeons. It was a silence May knew all too well, for she had heard such a silence before, while living in the Downs. It was the kind of silence that demanded to be filled with screams and cries for mercy. But Grinner’s face showed no mercy. Instead, his ruined features filled with an insane rage, one that spoke of no reason or logic, only the wish to visit pain upon someone.
The old crime boss took the mask with a shaking hand. He slipped it over his face then turned to regard Hale. “Kill him.”
He spoke the words in little more than a whisper, but they seemed to echo within the dungeons for all that, and there was such hate in them that May felt a chill run up her spine. “Grinner,” she said, speaking for the first time, “wait, surely—”
“Quiet, woman,” the crime boss hissed, not even bothering to turn away from the guards. “You’re next.”
The two guards only stood staring at Grinner as if he’d spoken a different language. Finally, one cleared his throat. “But…sir, we were only meant to question—”
“Never mind what you were meant to do!” Grinner screamed, his voice breaking, “Kill him now!”
The two guards recoiled at the naked, unreasoning fury in the crime boss’s voice, their troubled, wary stares locked on Grinner as if he were some wild animal that might attack at any moment. One of the two went so far as to grab the handle of his sword, sliding the blade halfway out of the sheath at his waist, though it was unclear whether he intended to follow the crime boss’s orders, or planned to use the sword to defend himself should the old man charge him.
May couldn’t blame him either way, for though the mask covered the crime boss’s face, she could see his eyes dancing with a fevered madness beyond all reason. “Well?” the crime boss demanded, his fists clenched at his sides, and May noted, troubled, that blood seeped from his hands where the nails of his fingers dug into his flesh, but if Grinner noticed, he gave no sign.
“Sir,” one of the guards tried again in a voice one might use to soothe a wild beast, “Queen Isabelle told us to question them to determine whether or not they’re guilty. She would not be pleased—”
Hale laughed at that, a great bellowing laugh, and Grinner shook with rage. Shut up, you idiot, May thought furiously. Can’t you see he’s mad? But either the giant crime boss could not see it, or did not care, for the laughter continued, and a strangled, tortured sound came from Grinner’s throat. Finally, he stalked toward the nearest guard—the man whose blade sat half out of its scabbard—and ripped the sword free himself. “Fine,” He hissed in a voice that was at once both frightening and pitiable, “I’ll do it myself, if you lack the nerve.”
He turned to where the giant was strung up, and Hale left off his laughing to study the old man with a bloody grin. “Well?” he said. “You going to do something or just stand there, you old bastard?”
The blade shook in Grinner’s hand, yet still the crime boss hesitated.
“Come…on then,” the giant grated, each word full of pain. “Or…is it that…you’re afraid to get your hands dirty?”
A horrible keening rose from Grinner then, a sound that could not have come from any sane man or woman, and he stalked closer to the other man. For his part, Hale seemed to tense, leaning his body forward as if almost eager.
“Kill you,” Grinner muttered. “Kill you…kill you…”
“Stop him!” May screamed at the two guards. “You’ve got to do something!”
But the two men only stood and watched as Grinner stalked closer to Hale, and she might as well not have spoken at all for all the reaction they gave. “Grinner, stop!” she tried again, but the old man gave no sign that he’d heard her as he moved forward in hitching steps, like some marionette under the guidance of a particularly unskilled puppet master.
“Stop in the name of the queen!” came a new voice, and the authority of it, the demand in it, made it past Grinner’s madness, and he froze, turning. May followed his gaze to see Captain Brandon Gant marching down the dungeon hallway.
“Put the blade down, Grinner,” he said, stepping inside the cell. “Now.”
Some of the rage faded from the crime boss’s countenance, and when he spoke his voice sounded nearly human. “Captain Gant. You overstep yourself—Queen Isabelle has given me leave to question the two prisoners regarding their involvement in the conspiracy for her death.”
The captain’s mouth worked as if he’d swallowed something sour. “So I’ve heard, but in my experience questioners rarely do their work with swords.”
The crime boss started and stared down at the sword as if only now realizing he carried it. “A tool to induce fear, Captain Gant, in the hopes of motivating him to tell what he knows. Nothing more.”
Brandon Gant glanced at the bloody, battered form of Hale before turning back to Grinner. “Well, Councilman, if his smile is anything to go by, it isn’t working.”
Grinner studied him for several moments then finally let the sword fall to his side. “Very well, Captain, as you say.” He walked to the stunned guard and handed him back the blade before looking to the captain once more. “Still, there are other ways to question him, other tools that we might use, and let me assure you, we shall have the truth before the day is out, and Queen Isabelle will be sa—”
“No,” Captain Gant interrupted, “you’re done.” He gestured to the giant crime boss, “Dead men tell no secrets, and a fool could see that anymore of your questioning would kill him.”
“You do not have the authority to…” Grinner began but cut off at the sound of the captain’s blade leaving its scabbard.
“I woul
d not question what authority I have, Councilman Grinner,” he said. “Unless, that is, you wish to make use of that sword after all, only against an opponent who is likewise armed.” He leaned forward then, a small, eager smile on his face. “Do you?”
The crime boss hesitated, glancing at the two guards as if trying to decide which side they would take, should it come to it, and there was a pregnant pause, one in which May didn’t dare to so much as take a breath. Then, after a moment, some of the tension seemed to leave the old crime boss’s body, and he nodded. “Very well, Captain,” he said, making the last word a curse, “But Queen Isabelle will hear of your meddling, this I assure you. I suspect that she will not be pleased with one of her own getting in the way of the truth.”
“Perhaps,” Brandon Gant said, “but, then, I’ll hear those words from the queen herself—not from a sniveling coward who only finds his courage when his opponent is unarmed and chained.”
Grinner tensed, and May thought that he would attack the captain, after all, but he only stood, his body trembling. “You have made a mistake, crossing me, Captain. I will see your position revoked. Before I am through, you won’t be allowed to even so much as muck out the queen’s stables. Come,” he barked, turning to the two guards before stomping out of the cell.
The two men hesitated, glancing at their captain uncertainly, but he only gave them one sharp nod. “Better follow him, lads. Whatever evil may come, let it come to me only.”
“Sir,” they said in unison, then they started away after the rapidly departing old man.
“One more thing, boys,” Captain Gant said without turning away from his study of the big crime boss. “Leave the manacle keys.”
“But, sir,” one said, “are you sure that’s wise? They say he fought like a demon when taken. He nearly killed poor Jessum. He’ll never walk right again, that’s for—”
“Leave them,” Brandon repeated, his gaze still locked on the giant who watched him with dark, unreadable eyes.
“Yes sir.”
They tossed the keys at the captain’s feet, and disappeared down the dungeon corridor, following in the furious Grinner’s wake.
Once they were gone, the captain picked up the keys before making his way to the giant. “Am I going to have any trouble out of you?”
Hale’s jaw worked before he turned and spat out a mouthful of blood. “Reckon I’ve… been about as much trouble as I mean to today.”
Captain Gant gave a sharp nod and set about unlocking the man’s bonds. When his arms came free of the ceiling, the crime boss stumbled, and Brandon was forced to catch him, grunting with the effort of holding up his weight. “Big bastard, aren’t you?”
“Been…told as much,” Hale grated. “Though normally the ones who tell me are much…prettier than you.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Slowly, the two men worked their way to the corner of the cell, Captain Gant hissing with strain, Hale grunting in what May could only imagine was unimaginable pain. Finally, they reached the corner, and Captain Gant released the giant where he half-sat, half-collapsed on the cell’s dirt floor.
The captain took a step back, panting. “Gods, but I’m too old to be lugging the likes of you around.”
The crime boss, however, didn’t answer. The moment he sat, his head slumped onto his chest, and May would have thought him dead had she not been able to see the almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest. Brandon turned to look at her with something like wonder in his eyes. “I think he went to sleep.”
May nodded, forcing her gaze away from the crime boss’s bloody, broken form. “Yes,” she said sadly. “That’s a blessing, at least.”
Captain Gant nodded and withdrew a key from his waist, locking the cell door behind him as he stepped back out into the corridor. “He’ll suffer more, before it’s done. Unless, that is, he tells what he knows.”
May’s eyes went wide. “Captain, surely you don’t think it’s true? That we—”
Brandon Gant shook his head. “I trust you, May, no matter what that snake Grinner says. Princess Adina and General Envelar vouched for you, and that’s enough for me. As for him, though…” He turned, studying the unconscious crime boss before finally shaking his head. “I don’t know—the man’s a criminal, after all, and though I despise Councilman Grinner and his methods, I’ve little trust for Hale. Men, I’ve found, will act according to their natures, and his nature is clear enough for any with the eyes to see it.”
May started to tell the man that she was little more than a criminal herself, but decided that now, locked within a dungeon cell, might not be the best time to risk turning the one person who seemed to be on her side against her, so instead she only nodded. “A week ago, I would have said much the same. But now…I’m not sure.” She shook her head slowly. “Anyway, whatever faults Hale has—and there are many, I admit—he is not a man known for subtlety of this kind.”
“About as subtle as a battle axe, from what I’ve seen,” the captain admitted. “But that doesn’t change the fact that it was his men who tried to assassinate the queen.”
May decided to leave that for now; after all, she wasn’t sure how she felt about the crime boss herself, only that she was confident he’d had no hand in what had happened. But a hunch was pitiful enough evidence, and wouldn’t do anything to convince the captain. “As you say, Captain. Tell me,” she said, shuffling toward the cell door, hating the desperation in her voice but unable to quell it, “what of Silent and Adina? Has there been any news?”
The captain’s expression could have been carved from stone, but she could see the worry beneath the surface of it, could hear it in his voice when he spoke. “Nothing. I fear for them, May, but what’s more I fear for all of Perennia. Without her sister and General Envelar by her side the queen is…” He hesitated, finally shaking his head. “I do not know what will happen in the coming days.”
May frowned. “The army. Has it reached Baresh?”
The captain met her eyes with an obvious reluctance. “No. It has yet to march, and now I am not sure that it even will. The queen is…” He paused again, and on his features, May could see his loyalty to Queen Isabelle warring with his concern for the city. “She is worried,” he said finally. “Now, it seems, she is hesitant to make any move, lest it be the wrong one.”
“But, Captain,” May said, grabbing the cell bars. “The army has to march. The tournament in Baresh will begin any day now—if it hasn’t already. Kevlane will—”
“I know, May,” he said. “I know. I have spoken to Queen Isabelle of this, but still she waits.” He gritted his teeth, and when he spoke again the club owner could hear the frustration in his voice. “And for all my threats, that snake, Councilman Grinner, probably has the right of it. Since he ‘saved her life,’” he said, his tone making it clear what he thought of that, “the queen has kept Grinner close to her side, refusing any counsel but his. I suspect she won’t be overly pleased when she hears I have come in the way of his questioning.”
May stared at the man, stunned. “But…but surely she understands that Grinner is a monster. She has to know that he cares nothing for anyone but himself, that he’d kill his own mother, if she stood in the way of what he wanted.”
Brandon nodded. “I have told Her Majesty as much but…” He shrugged. “I just don’t know, May. And it is not only the queen, I fear, who has been beguiled by the councilman and his lies. Many in the city, too, believe that you and Hale are traitors. There are whispers that even General Envelar and Princess Adina herself were in on the conspiracy, and I’ve lost count of the amount of tavern brawls that I’ve had to see put down over the matter. The city is…tense. Even now, I can hardly walk down a street corner without seeing a mob of people shouting about Princess Adina and General Envelar’s treachery, screaming for justice.”
May heart skipped a beat. Justice, to such men and women, she suspected, meant not only her and Hale’s execution, but also hunting down Silent and the others. And if they returned to
the city when it was in such a state? “Gods, Brandon,” she said, “if they come back…”
The captain gave a sharp nod, his expression troubled. “I know, May. I know. I’ve got my men—the ones I’m sure are loyal—scouting outside the city in search of them. Not as many as I’d like and, so far at least, they have found no sign. I’m afraid if Aaron and the others don’t come back soon…”
“Relax, Captain,” May said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Aaron and Adina know how to take care of themselves.”
He met her eyes, scratching at the gray bristles of his beard, “It’s not them I’m worried about, May. At least not mostly.”
May studied him, saw in his gaze the truth of how bad things in the city were becoming as people, scared and uncertain, chose anger over fear. Not an uncommon reaction—she had seen it a thousand times before—but, this time, that anger might well see her and Hale to their deaths, and the city to its own soon after. “What of Thom?” she said, afraid to hear the answer but needing to know.
“He’s alright,” the captain said. “For now, anyway. As is Balen, before you ask. That one’s clever enough, for it seems he saw what was coming before I did.”
“Why do you say that?” May asked, a sinking feeling rising in the pit of her stomach. “What’s Balen done?”
The captain shrugged. “He’s disappeared, that’s all. And wherever he went, it seems he took the youth Michael, and Bastion with him. It’d be my guess that, wherever they are, Thom’s with them, and if they’re smart, they’ll keep their heads down for a while. With the city how it is, it’s best if any confidants and friends of General Envelar and Princess Adina stay out of sight. I don’t know that they’d be attacked but, May…I don’t know they wouldn’t be either. Grinner, at least, seems to have forgotten them—too busy trying to whisper poison into the queen’s ear, I suspect.”
“Thank the gods for that, anyway,” May said. “It’s good to know they’re safe.”
“As safe as anyone can be in such times,” the captain said. “Still, the situation in the city is deteriorating each day that passes without sign of the general or the princess. There aren’t armed mobs patrolling the city in search of anyone connected with the general—not yet—but I think it’s only a matter of time before they go looking, and May, when they do…”
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