Chapter 4
"We don't need you," Bokham said, as we headed down the stairs with half a dozen guards. "You gave me a good enough description. I can find the man without your help."
"Maybe," I said. "But I'm coming anyway."
I changed clothes before telling Bokham about the dangerous man. Donning a pair of black riding boots, black leather breeches, a white cotton shirt that laced up the front, and a black wool cloak. I tied my hair into a ponytail with the choking device and strapped the cutlass around my waist.
"Does the queen know you're doing this?" Bokham asked.
"I don't need the queen's permission to go somewhere," I said.
"I'll take that as a no."
We rode to the Fisherman's Rest, which was on the same side of the river as the castle, but in the heart of the city. There was a full moon out and it was a warm cloudless night. The Fisherman's Rest was a single story log structure with its front door facing the river's docks.
"Does this place have a back door?" I asked Bokham.
"Of course."
I pointed to four of the soldiers. "You four cover the back door. Don't let anyone leave. Force them back inside at the point of your swords if you have to."
The four guards headed to the rear of the tavern. Bokham, myself, and the remaining two guards dismounted, tied our horses to the hitching post in front of the tavern, and went inside.
The tavern was crowded, which was probably why the dangerous man selected it. The place was loud and raucous, so much so that no one even noticed when three soldiers blocked the doorway.
The dangerous man sat at the same table he had been at in my vision. He was leaning back in his chair, balancing it on its hind legs. When he saw us, he didn't sit upright, didn't show any signs of concern other than to set his drink down and slide his right hand to the hilt of his sword.
I could tell that he knew why we were there, and that he didn't intend to go without a fight. We certainly had the numbers to take him, but the place was crowded with innocent fishermen, some of whom could get hurt if a fight ensued.
I was looking for a way to take him, when an idea hit me. With the way he was balancing on the hind legs of his chair, it wouldn't take much to get him to tip over backwards. If that happened, we could take him before he had a chance to get back on his feet.
I grabbed Bokham's arm and pulled him toward me. "I'm going to try something. Get ready to rush the man in the back. The one sitting by himself, balancing his chair on its hind legs."
"How will we know when to rush him?"
"When he falls over."
I closed my eyes and pictured myself standing on his table, my sword pointed at his chest. Then I changed my appearance. I pictured myself with wings like a bat, spread ready for flight. I pictured myself with long pointed ears, and the face and fangs of a lion.
A second later, I saw the dangerous man from the perspective of someone standing on his table. A second after that, he must've seen the image I created in my head, because he stared up at me with a startled look, then lost his balance and tipped over backwards.
I let the image fade and opened my eyes. The dangerous man was lying on his back struggling to get up. He never made it. Bokham and the other two soldiers reached him first. All three had their swords drawn and pointed at his chest.
"What was that?" the dangerous man sputtered.
Bokham, the only person here who knew about my gifts, smiled. "Perhaps it was a demon, sent to make you pay for your evil deeds."
He grabbed the dangerous man's sword. The other two soldiers pulled the dangerous man to his feet. By this time, the dull roar of a room full of people talking at once had died down. Everyone watched as the two soldiers dragged the dangerous man to the door.
I backed out of the tavern ahead of everyone and waited for Bokham to lead the others outside. Once they joined me, I stepped in front of the dangerous man and ripped open the front of his shirt. Hanging around his neck was a KRB medallion. I took it off of him and draped it around my neck. I pulled out the other two I was wearing beneath my shirt and showed them to him.
"As you can see, I'm a collector of these little trinkets. One day, I intend to own all of them. Including the one that hangs around the neck of your boss, the King of Dunre."
"Not that you'll live to see that day," Bokham growled in the dangerous man's ear. He took a rope from his saddle, tied one end around the dangerous man's wrists, and the other end to his saddle.
We collected the four soldiers that took up positions behind the tavern, mounted our horses, and headed west. Queen Catlett's castle was just outside the city, one side bordered the river, the other three sides were surrounded by a plush green lawn. The dangerous man followed on foot. The rope around his hands forcing him to keep pace.
I slowed my horse down, until I was riding alongside of him. "Have you ever met Queen Catlett?"
He glared at me. "I don't need to meet a skunk to know that it stinks."
Bokham heard what the man said and didn't like the answer. I knew he didn't like the answer because he set his horse to a gallop, causing the man to fall face first onto the ground and be dragged down the street by his hands. Lucky for him, it was a dirt street and not cobblestone.
"Mind your tongue, spy," Bokham said, as he drew his horse to a halt.
The man struggled to his feet and we resumed our trek through Ranetown. Once again, I fell in alongside of him. "I'm guessing your mother abandoned you when you were young, probably leaving you in the care of people that weren't very nice to you."
"A lot you know," the man said. "My mother beat me with a stick until I grew bigger than her, ripped the stick out of her hand, and beat her to death with it."
"So, it's not really Queen Catlett you hate, it's female authority figures." The man didn't say anything, so I continued. "Is that how they recruited you into the Brotherhood? They found out you hated your mother enough to kill her and figured you'd be a good candidate for the Brotherhood?"
The man didn't respond, but he didn't have to. The moonlight was bright enough to allow me to read his face. What I saw in his dark eyes told me that I had uncovered a truth.
"Thank you," I said. "You've been most cooperative."
"I've told you nothing," the man said.
"On the contrary, you've told me quite a bit. I know that you're of royal blood, that you beat your mother to death when you were a teenager, and that the Brotherhood researched your background before approaching you.
"It will now be easy to find out who you are and who your associates are. After all, royal circles in this part of the world, in any part of the world for that matter, are relatively small. I'm guessing you're the second or third son of a baron, too insignificant to become a baron yourself, but just the kind of person the Brotherhood needs. Working for the Brotherhood was the perfect job for one such as yourself. It made you feel like you were part of something important, something bigger than yourself. Plus, it paid well, and it enabled you to work against those you hate the most, namely women in positions of authority."
Once again, the man's expression told me that I had uncovered a truth. He may have looked dangerous. He may have been dangerous. But he was easy to read. I rode on ahead, until I was alongside Bokham.
"The queen has a scholar that tracks royal lineage," Bokham said. "An elderly fellow by the name of Zerbel Moke. He should be able to identify this man, assuming what he said is true."
"It is."
"You seem rather sure."
"My mother was very good at reading people. She taught me everything she knew, tried to teach me everything she knew. Never thought I'd remember any of it, but some of it seems to have stuck."