The Death Dealer - The Complete Series

by Katie Roman

  “He is right,” Henry said. “His Majesty will not risk harm to his favorite knight and tournament champion.”

  “Does anyone object to this plan?” Kay let a minute pass, but no one objected; or at least no one objected loudly. “In the morning, Sir Henry, Jack, and myself will ride out with our offer. In the meantime, we need to fortify our barricades as best we can. For now, get some rest. Thom and I will come around and assign tasks to those able to perform them.”

  Kay and Thom stepped down from the counter and retreated into the kitchen with Henry and Jack in tow. George would no doubt continue to take inventory of their supplies. The captains would help him.

  “It is a good idea,” Henry said. “It should buy us some time, but we must continue to fortify the barricades around the Lane and prepare for the worst.”

  Outside the kitchen, the noise picked up again. Kay was glad of the closed door now.

  “How likely is it that Robert will be the one to deal with us?” Kay asked, turning toward Jack. “I mean, really.”

  “My father wouldn’t risk the life of a noble over a scuffle with ‘the rabble’, as he calls the common folk.”

  “Will your father heed the white flag?” Kay grabbed a roll the cook had made that morning and bit into it, trying to remember when she had eaten last. “He did with Grace, but he saw her as harmless. He knows we are not harmless now.”

  “He respects the rules of war.”

  Kay noted Jack eyeing the door. “I will come for you before dawn,” she said. “Go back to Grace, but try to sleep some.”

  To her surprise, Jack hugged her, nearly crushing her. She didn’t expect him to have any strength left. She returned the hug, gently pushing him away when she felt it went on too long. He shook Henry’s hand and disappeared into the crowd beyond the kitchen. Kay turned her attention back to Henry to discuss the plan further.

  ~*~*~

  The white flag assembly didn’t have fine steeds to ride; they had nags and cart horses. They were not as impressive as Robert and his men, who were already waiting at the gates for the army. Kay didn’t even know how to ride. She sat on the poor gray and brown nag’s back like a sack of potatoes. To ease Kay’s mind, Jack kept her horse tethered to his. It seemed unlikely the nag was going to bolt, but it put the pirate at ease. He carried the white flag while Henry led their procession.

  “A peace offering from thieves and traitors? You are acting like this is a proper war, Henry,” Robert sneered.

  “We are here to treat with the commander of the army as much as yourself,” Henry said, ignoring the duke’s jibe. “We have terms that we believe you would be interested in.”

  Jack watched his father carefully. Robert looked calm, but he could see him cracking. His father’s horse was normally a steady creature, taking his cues from Robert. However, the beast fidgeted and pawed the ground, showing Jack that his father was tense and anxious despite his external aloofness.

  It would have given Jack great pleasure to knock Robert down, since it was by his own hand that Grace lay mostly dead at the guard house. If she died, he would see to it that Robert paid. Jack’s own horse shifted nervously, so Jack eased his grip on the reins and loosened his knees.

  It was near nine in the morning when the army reached the gates. To Jack’s horror, King Frederick himself led the army. He expected the king to send one of his favored knights, but then it dawned on him, who was left? Robert was his most trusted, Benjamin was his prize fighter, Daniel of Arganis was long dead, and Nicholas of Actis and Prince Drake had betrayed him. Frederick didn’t have anyone left that he trusted.

  The king rode tall in his saddle. His plate mail reflected the bright morning light and his stallion’s sleek gray coat matched his own hair. He looked first to Robert, and then to the assembled “rabble.”

  “Henry, why am I not surprised to find you here, among disgraced knights and common whores?” Frederick said.

  Jack heard Kay shift in her saddle and he shook his head, following Henry’s lead of keeping a cool head. Henry said nothing; he merely bowed in his saddle and responded with, “Your Majesty.”

  Frederick turned away from Henry in disgust, saying, “Why are these fools here under the white flag? The peasants in this city are not an army.”

  “They came to sue for peace, perhaps?” the Duke of Escion answered, shrugging, and Jack saw him wince from the movement. “His Majesty asked a question. Answer him.”

  Henry cleared his throat. “We have three knights of the crown as prisoners. This morning, we are here to ransom Sir Benjamin of Salatia. His release should be worth at least fifty gold pieces and a full day of peace while we bring him over to you.”

  Frederick barked a laugh. “You honestly act like you are an army worthy of note? Your Grace, seize them.”

  Jack tried to back up his horse as his father’s men approached. He bumped into Kay’s nag, who snapped. Kay leaned forward to hold fast to the horse, but Henry remained still in his saddle, offering no resistance.

  “They just want to use us to get their knights back,” he said over his shoulder to Kay and Jack.

  Jack moved his horse next to Kay and her horse relaxed under his hand. Kay remained bent over, her fingers entwined in the beast’s mane. Robert’s men surrounded them. Still, they offered no resistance.

  ~*~*~

  The king’s army was camped right outside Glenbard. Once inside the gates, Frederick sent a messenger to Thom, Nathaniel, and Brach to tell them about his new captives. Kay and Jack were in a tent with guards just outside. They each sat with their arms tied in front of them, resting in their laps. Henry had been brought to stand before Frederick and Robert.

  Kay shifted as best she could to lie on her side. Jack stretched out his legs so she could use them as a cushion.

  “I suppose you will blame me for dragging you away from Grace?”

  Jack shook his head. “I didn’t have to come, but I knew she would want me to help Henry.” He sighed. My little chick, he thought. So brave. So impulsive. A tear slid down his cheek.

  Through his trouser leg, he felt the warm tears of Kay’s as well. “We will be fine,” she said, no hint of her sorrow in her tone. “You’ll see. Henry is a learned man, and Lord George is too. Together they can talk the king into letting us go in exchange for his knights.”

  “Henry has never been one of Frederick’s favorite people, but he has generally heeded his advice.”

  “And it will be no different now.” As Kay spoke, Jack felt more of her tears hit his leg. He just agreed, praying that any god who listened would help them.

  ~*~*~

  The day and night passed with no word and no return of Henry.

  Robert had a soldier drag Jack, while Gillam practically carried Kay from their tent toward the north gate. “It appears that those in charge on Rogue’s Lane do not value either of you enough to make a trade,” Robert said.

  “They were given a day to comply.”

  The same day we had tried to bargain for, Jack thought bitterly. “Did you really send them a messenger?”

  Robert struck Jack hard across the mouth with his free hand and coppery tasting liquid coated his tongue. His lip bled, but otherwise he was unfazed. It was a shock that his father hadn’t hit him the moment they were in custody.

  “They were duly warned of the consequences.” Robert stopped them in front of the gate.

  A salty sea breeze blew in from the harbor, warmer than the city had felt in months. Jack closed his eyes and pretended he was anywhere else.

  “Watch,” his father commanded, and Jack felt his hand on the back of his neck.

  Jack opened his eyes to see Henry standing on top of the gate; a figure swathed in black standing with him. Frederick emerged from the camp with his herald before him. The herald held a piece of parchment. With a nod from the king, he began to speak.

  “Sir Henry, Lord of Egona has been found guilty of treason against His Most Royal Majesty, Frederick I of Cesernan and the Narero
c Islands. All lands held by Egona will be forfeit to the crown, and the offender shall be hanged until the last breath leaves his body. May the Divine Twins take mercy.”

  Jack turned to his father, mouth agape. His whole body tensed and he shook his head, not believing his ears and having difficulty finding words. “You can’t do this!” he finally squeaked. “We came to you to broker for peace!”

  “Gillam, restrain my son.”

  Gillam gripped Jack’s shoulder. His grip was like iron, but Jack still fought him. “No! You can’t do this!”

  Robert walked over to stand in front of Kay. The pirate stood still, looking at her feet, but Robert grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. She screamed something in Narerocish and spit in Robert’s face, and the duke struck her with enough force that she fell to the ground. He kicked her once in the ribs, causing her to curl into a ball to protect herself. Jack continued to struggle against Gillam.

  “Don’t make it any worse, Jack,” Gillam whispered in his ear.

  “Have you any last words?” the king called up to Henry, ignoring the spectacle unfolding next to him.

  “The people will not always be under your thumb, Frederick!” Henry cried. His voice didn’t even quaver.

  The hangman put a hood over Henry’s head and pushed him from the gate. Jack watched, suddenly frozen as the knight’s body fell through the air before stopping suddenly. The body swayed back and forth from the gate.

  “If the people of Glenbard do not heed our demands tomorrow, then Jack Anders, formally Sir Jonathan Mullery of Escion, will hang beside Sir Henry of Egona. And if our demands are still unmet, the woman named Kunegunda Lansa shall swing beside them,” Frederick called into the city. “If our demands are unmet after that, we shall torch the whole of the district known as Rogue’s Lane.”

  Jack tried once more to fling himself at his father or at Frederick, but Robert came to stand beside him, shaking his head.

  “Won’t it be nice to join that witch Grace Hilren in the afterlife?” He moved away before Jack could spit in his face or kick him.

  But Jack didn’t want to do anything anymore. He went limp in Gillam’s grasp, watching Henry’s body hang at the entrance to the city.

  Twenty-Seven

  Grace sat within a clearing in the woods. It wasn’t like the pine forests of Arganis, nor was it the oak forest outside Glenbard. It was a forest of gold and silver. It seemed impossible for light to penetrate the dense canopy, but the wood was illuminated as bright as noonday.

  Two paths were before her. Spirits floated around one, but at the end was a great hall. Even from where she sat, she could see bright banners, a warm fire, and two thrones of gold and silver. The other path led to Glenbard. Grace sat with her knees pulled to her chest, unsure which path to take. Here, her wound was healed. It was a long pink and white scar under her clothes, but it looked like something she had carried her entire life.

  Diggery, in wolf form, trotted up and sat next to her. Most people know exactly which path they will take when given the choice, she said.

  “How many people are ever given the choice?”

  Few, and really it is only a delay of the inevitable. Why do you sit here? I would have thought the path for you would be easy. The great wolf lay next to Grace, leaning against her, sharing her warmth.

  “I was thinking. If I go back, where will I stand?”

  Stand?

  “I do not wish to have Drake restore me to my titles at Arganis. I also don't want to remain Queen of Thieves. I am trying to decide where it is I belong.”

  Grace felt the wolf's tail wag against her. Impulsively, she scratched behind Diggery's ears. Realizing the insult to the goddess, she withdrew her hand quickly and mumbled an apology.

  The wolf made an odd sound, almost like a laugh. You used to dive into things without thinking.

  “I have learned from past folly, though honestly, I never felt useful in this world until I became the Death Dealer. Impulsive and childish as it was to wish to be some great hero, I knew it was where I belonged.” She paused. It was only a few years since she first donned the executioner's hood, but it felt like a lifetime ago. “I suppose that since I have not already been sent back to the world of the living, I have done all you needed? That is why I am allowed one last choice?”

  Every good servant deserves a rest. But you cannot linger here forever.

  “I know.” Grace watched as a new spirit joined the rest, clamoring to get to the Hall of the Divine Twins. She frowned. “Henry?”

  The spirit certainly looked like Henry, but it ignored her and went down the path to the great hall. Grace called his name again.

  He will not hear you until you choose the same path.

  “But it is Henry?”

  The wolf nodded and Grace bowed her head. Henry had been the only truly kind person to her at court, and she enjoyed his company and jovial nature. He was freed from Redbank prison only to be cut down so quickly.

  “I know where I need to go, but I would like to sit a while longer. Please do not leave me, for I may lose my nerve.”

  Diggery rested her head in Grace's lap, giving her a last bit of peace before the inevitable.

  ~*~*~

  Once Henry was taken hostage, the assembled rebels in the Lane scrambled to figure out what to do with their chief diplomat gone. Finally, word came to release all three knights in exchange for Henry, Jack, and Kay. Lord George said it was obvious that was the answer, but before the exchange could be made, a group of rash fools beat Sir Vincent to death in his cell. Sir Lawrence refused to go back to a king who blatantly ignored the rules of war, and Sir Benjamin wanted nothing more than to return to Salatia to see to his people.

  Nathaniel, George, Julian, and Thom spent the night debating and trying to make sense of their situation, but by dawn, they were no closer. They sent a messenger with news of Sir Lawrence and Sir Benjamin's decisions, although they carefully avoided the subject of Sir Vincent by saying he was ill. Since the king’s demands were not met, Henry was executed. The king’s men guarded his body to make sure none of the rebels cut him down for burial.

  Nathaniel didn't know what to do, and George was a scholar and at a loss for how to deal with matters of war. Julian thought they should send the knights to the king, including Vincent's body. Thom thought the dead knight would incite the king more and they would burn the Lane to the ground. Nathaniel thought they could use the Death Dealer to sneak into the enemy camp and free Kay and Jack, and through it all, Grace remained unconscious.

  The priestesses, bound by vows of silence, would just shake their heads when Nathaniel asked about her. Ridley sat by her bed, saying nothing, but helping to change her bandages and having her own changed in turn. Nathaniel knew they would need a miracle, and just after sunset they were granted one.

  “We intercepted your messenger on our way from Egona,” Prince Drake said as he came into the Angel. “My ships landed five days ago, and we moved with all haste to get to Glenbard.” Nathaniel’s mouth dropped open as the prince entered their war room at the Angel, and the Guard captain fell to his knees.

  Along with Drake came Serish knights, troops, Egona men-at-arms, peasant soldiers from nearby fiefs, a Cesernan knight by the name of Sir Tristan, the Duke of Actis, and two Serish lords. The Queen of Sera promised more troops in a few weeks, and the Duchess of Actis was organizing more allies in Egona with the help of Charlotte and Donald. As George caught the prince up on the situation, the young man looked troubled by the news.

  “Sir Henry was a wise man, for all that he liked to stay out of politics. Grace is not likely to make it another night, and she clearly did even better than we anticipated in rousing the people. These are grievous losses, but we must act tonight if we are to save Captain Lansa and Jack Anders and drive the king’s army away from the city.”

  “Does Your Highness have any ideas?” Nathaniel asked, feeling somewhat sheepish to be invited into a war conference with the Prince of Cesernan.

>   “My father will have heard of my arrival by now, but we couldn't exactly move in secret. He will send an emissary soon enough, but he has not played fair and neither shall we. We will plan for a night attack, but we will let him think we will bargain with them in the morning.”

  “The people of Glenbard are disheartened,” Nathaniel dared to continue. “Even with your arrival. Their king, Marcus, was cut down a few months past, and then Grace. Now the three they put their trust in have been taken. One has already been executed, and the others don’t have high hopes they won't be burned alive for treason.”

  “I will address our people, and hopefully that will give them the strength to fight tonight,” Prince Drake announced. “But anyone who fears for their lives may abandon this with no consequence. They are simple folk, not army deserters.” As he said the last part he eyed the Serish lords, who frowned at his declaration.

  Nathaniel felt better having the prince in attendance, but he didn't like the idea of a night attack. Drake didn't know the secret ways around Glenbard, and the citizens of the city weren't trained to fight.

  Glenda threw open the door to their conference room, panting. “This is an hour of miracles!” Glenda proclaimed. “First the prince arrives, and now Grace wakes as though she took no blade to the heart!”

  ~*~*~

  Grace came awake as though she was walking through a fog. The priestess tending Grace’s wounds backed away in fear as her wounds healed in a matter of seconds. Instead of the bloody mess left by Robert, it was now a pink and white scar. It was rough and ugly, but it looked like a scar long since healed. Grace ran her finger along it, feeling the puckered, rough skin. She expected to find a scabbed over mess upon waking, but this must have been a final gift from Diggery. The scar matched her others; the scar she bore on her side from her first year in Glenbard, and the scar on her arm from a fight with a city guard.

  “My clothes and my weapons,” she said to the priestess.