She went down and banged her head on a table as she went. She winced in pain but was able to get free. Feet moved all about her and Grace knew any second she would find herself under someone’s boot. She closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle.
One strong arm scooped her off the floor and back onto her feet. “You just don’t listen, do you?” Grace was never as happy to hear Jack’s voice as she was at that moment. Jack pulled Grace close to him and kept a sword drawn, but the fighting died down.
Grace remembered that Jack was famous around Glenbard as a rusher, and his legendary skills must have frightened some of the ruffians. Kit stood next to him with a dagger, and she sliced the man who tackled Ridley and prepared to do it again. Where they came from, Grace didn’t care. She only cared that Kit was no stranger with a weapon in her hand and Jack supported her. As it was, she felt as if her knees were going to give out. Her head pounded and a wave of nausea washed over her.
Jim Little emerged from the crowd, pulling Van and another man by the collars. “Start a fight in my tavern, will you?” He dragged them all the way to the door and threw them roughly into the streets. “Don’t ever come back to the Angel again!”
Marcus appeared with a bruised Ridley at his side and they came straight for Grace, Jack and Kit. Grace was shaking from the adrenaline rush and because she was afraid others would still try to come after her. She also worried that if Jack let her go, she’d simply sink to the floor. Luckily he kept a firm arm around her waist. He obviously knew better than to let her go. Jim joined them.
“Everyone all right?” the innkeeper said as he looked around. A few broken plates and some knocked-over tables and chairs, but nothing the Angel Tavern and Inn hadn’t seen before.
“A bit bruised, it looks like,” Marcus said; taking stock of the injuries. Ridley’s left hand had been nicked and there was a large red mark swelling on her cheek. Grace’s head throbbed and a similar red mark was forming on her forehead. Tomorrow she and Ridley would have impressive bruises.
“We’re lucky you came along when you did, Jack.” Jim nodded to Jack and Kit. “And you as well, young lady.”
Grace sighed. “I think I need to go out for some air.”
“Do you ever learn your lesson?” Jack growled by her ears.
“Those fools will still be milling about, girlie,” Marcus said.
“I’ll go with her,” Kit said. “The air in here is stifling and I need some fresh air myself. This is not the time to be walking about alone.” She sheathed her dagger and took over supporting Grace.
~*~*~
At first Kit and Grace did not speak. They just walked side by side toward the temple district. People stared, some whispered angrily, but no one bothered them. Grace headed into Diggery’s temple and took a seat up front near the statue of the wolf Diggery.
“Maybe everyone is right and I really don’t belong here.”
“Oh? You have certainly made a name for yourself in less than an hour. Where would you go, if not here?”
“You have traveled the world…where do you suggest?”
Kit’s purple eyes glinted in the soft candlelight of the temple and she stared thoughtfully upon Grace. There was a deep wisdom hidden in the young face, and Grace wondered how someone so young obtained it.
“If you wish to go somewhere where outcasts are welcome, I suggest Archon. Refugees from many countries have found their way there to seek asylum from the harsh realities of this world. It is a place of learning and peace. Or if you want to go where women are more respected, I say head for Eurur. Some of King Christian’s most trusted advisers are women, and in the provinces of Dorhedge and Morhollow, women are allowed to serve in the army.”
“What about Sera? Have you ever been there?”
“Its people are proud of their land and proud of their traditions. They can be harsh to outsiders. Stubborn as well.” She gave Grace a sly smile as she said that. “But if you really want to know what I think, you should stay in Cesernan. It is your home, after all, and think of all the friends you would be leaving behind if you left. You had a bad piece of luck tonight, but think about how so many were quick to accept you, even when your heritage was discovered. You already made one tragic, rash decision at the tournament…don’t make another one by running away.”
“Maybe you’re right, but it seems rather useless to stay. Half of Glenbard hates me as it is.”
“That’s not true, and even if it is, there are those who will not let harm come to you. Come on, now – you should get back to the Angel. We shouldn’t have come as far with tempers so high, and the night draws on. You start mucking out stables again tomorrow, do you not?”
“Yes.” Kit got to her feet and helped Grace up.
They walked back and shared a few pleasant words about the weather and this and that. Kit took Grace up to her room to bid her farewell, as she was heading out in the morning to the Nareroc Islands.
When they returned, Grace noticed that a candle on her desk had been lit and an ornate dagger was stabbed into the wood on her nightstand. There were strange symbols and a flowing script on the blade, and a dragon’s head on the handle with two ruby jewels for the eyes. She pulled it from the wood and handed it over to Kit.
“Do you recognize the symbols at all?” Grace asked.
“This is from Escion. Do you know anyone from that province?”
Grace’s thoughts went straight to Tristan, but she couldn’t fathom why he would have left her a dagger. There was a small piece of parchment paper where the dagger was, and Grace picked it up to read.
Learn to use it or death will surely find you. Swordplay is no longer useful when fighting the damned.
Kit looked over Grace’s shoulder. “It appears someone from Escion witnessed the fight this evening and wishes you well. Jack tells me the girl Ridley is quite good with knife play; perhaps you should see her about learning some yourself. Well, goodnight and good luck, Grace. I could be gone weeks or months. I am never sure when I will find my way back into Cesernan. Until next we meet.” Kit and Grace bowed to one another and the wanderer disappeared out the door, leaving Grace alone to ponder the riddle of the dagger.
~*~*~
“You’ve only been gone a week and already you’ve gone soft from sickness!” Mayhew snapped as Grace dropped a large wooden bucket full of water.
Her injury from the knife flared to life and pain shot up her side as she tried to lift the bucket. It wasn’t the first thing Grace dropped, and it was not even noon yet. Her head throbbed from the excitement of the night before and her Death Dealer wound had yet to fully heal.
“I am sorry, Master Mayhew,” she said and picked the bucket up again; heading to fill it with water once more.
“No! I won’t have you dropping another bucket! There’s a new patron at the Angel; arrived a while back while you were piddling away with the water. Unsaddle his horse and brush it down. He paid me handsomely to make sure his horse is well looked after. Now get to it!”
Grace wasted no time and went straight to the stall Mayhew pointed toward. A massive gray stallion was waiting to be handled and he stamped his foot as Grace came near him. The stallion snapped angrily as Grace reached up to undo his bridle, and she idly thought about how this horse was better suited to Jack’s personality than the well-mannered Pilgrim in the next stall.
“Easy, boy.” Grace slowly reached up, unhooked the bridle and slipped it carefully from the horse’s head. He watched her with angry eyes and shook his mane furiously when the bridle was off.
The last thing Grace needed was to be kicked by the angry beast, so with great care and caution she began working on the saddle. Pilgrim put his head over the stall wall and sniffed at the new stallion, but the horse did not take kindly to it and neighed wildly; snapping at poor Pilgrim. Jack’s horse and Grace both jumped, and when Grace looked back, she saw that the saddle was only half off.
Now it slid around on the horse’s back and
the saddle part hung loosely to one side. She gave a heavy sigh and cautiously attempted to get the saddle off once more. This time all the beast did was stamp his front hooves angrily. Finally, Grace slid the saddle off and slung it over the stall wall. She wasn’t looking forward to brushing the stallion down.
Mayhew came over. “What’s the damn commotion over here?”
“I’m sorry sir, but this horse is ill-tempered and snaps at everything I do.”
Mayhew handed Grace a brush. “Brush him down and let me see.”
With soft, slow steps Grace approached the horse once more. It was perfectly still, waiting for something, and Mayhew watched as Grace brushed the horse down. At first he thought the girl was lying, but suddenly the horse swung his head around and snapped at Grace. She jumped out of the way just in time to narrowly miss his powerful teeth.
“Get out of the stall, girl.” Mayhew yanked the brush from Grace. “I won’t have you out sick again because that beast kicks you. You make sure the other horses have water and food and then go get some lunch yourself. I’ll finish with this demon horse.”
~*~*~
Grace dragged herself into the common room of the Angel. She carried a plate from the cook and slumped down at Jack’s usual table.
“Tough morning with Mayhew?” Jack pulled his pipe from his mouth and blew out a smoke ring.
“Tough day with some newcomer’s horse. It was the most ill-tempered thing I ever met.”
“You must be talking about that man, then.” Jack pointed the end of his pipe toward a burly man talking to Marcus.
Grace looked over her shoulder and gasped when she caught a glimpse of the stranger’s face. She quickly turned back to Jack and took in a few deep breaths. “It’s him, Jack,” she whispered.
“Him who?”
“The man who stabbed me.”
Jack looked at the man again. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. What’s he doing here? Who is he?”
“I cannot answer those questions for you, but it would be best to ask Marcus when you have the chance. Don’t worry though; he won’t recognize you, even though you recognize him.”
“That doesn’t matter. He kidnapped a girl, killed her in cold blood right in front of me, and tried to do the same to me. I have to know who he is.”
“Don’t go looking for trouble again, Grace. He bested you once and he can undoubtedly do it again.”
Grace ignored her hunger and Jack’s warning and rose from her seat; slowly crossing the room to stand before Marcus.
“Ah, and who is this lovely thing, Marcus? You keepin’ her a secret from me? Want her all to yourself, do you?”
“Mac Cooper, allow me to introduce Grace Hilren. Grace, this is Mac, a member of the Thieves Guild. He watches my interests elsewhere in Cesernan.”
Grace could not believe this man was in the Guild. Guild members didn’t kidnap and kill helpless women for no reason on the side of the road. Not the Guild members she consorted with.
Mac rose, took Grace’s hand and kissed it. “A pleasure to find someone so beautiful waiting in Glenbard for my return. Marcus, you didn’t have to get me such a present.”
Grace turned her head and saw Jack watching intently from his corner. He looked annoyed at Mac’s attention toward Grace. She slowly pulled her hand away and took a few steps back.
“Grace mucks out the stables for Mayhew. She’s no present of yours, Mac,” Marcus said with a laugh. “But if you’ll excuse us Grace, we have business that needs tending to.”
Grace bowed to the King of Thieves and walked back to Jack’s table.
~*~*~
That evening before going to dinner, Grace asked Ridley to show her a bit of knife play. Ridley was like a demon possessed with her daggers. Grace was impressed with how well she handled them and how she managed to hit the target’s bulls-eye when she threw. Grace tried hard to keep up with Ridley, but she was too used to the sword techniques she learned in Arganis.
After an hour of trying to keep up with Ridley, the girl called a halt. “Grace, keep lower to the ground. You aim too high. This isn’t like sword fighting; this is more of a hit-and-dodge type of fighting. If you really want to learn, meet me out here every night before dinner and we’ll practice. I’m starving now though, so let’s go in and get some dinner.”
“Let’s eat down on the pier. We can ask Jim to wrap us up some supper.”
“What’s wrong with the common room?”
“If you join me down on the pier, I can explain.” Grace didn’t want to express her distrust of Mac until she was far away from the ears of the Angel.
~*~*~
Ridley was finishing off the flagon of wine and Grace had yet to tell her anything. Grace was oddly evasive of Ridley’s questions, and the Princess of Thieves wondered what had come over her friend.
Finally Grace opened up. “What can you tell me about Mac?”
“Mac Cooper? What’s he got to do with anything?”
“I’m not sure I trust him, that’s all.”
“No one trusts him. Marcus sent him abroad to get him away from Glenbard and Mac’s false claim as king of the Guild. He tries to make it seem as though he trusts him, but he’s wary of Mac. No one else can even stand the man, but no one speaks openly of it. Most of the Guild thinks Marcus and Mac are good friends. But I know the truth, and so do a few of Marcus’s closest allies. Everyone is on their toes now that Mac has returned.”
“Why is he back?”
Ridley looked around and lowered her voice; drawing closer to Grace. “This is being kept extremely quiet, but Marcus’s cousin was kidnapped a while back. Marcus contacted Mac to see if he knew anything, and Mac was on his way here to report his findings. But about a week ago Mac found the girl’s body on the side of the road, and she was next to the body of a man. Mac believes The Death Dealer killed the kidnapper after he had killed Marcus’s cousin. Marcus is very distressed, but he’s trying not to let it show.”
Grace put her head down. She had doomed Marcus’s cousin to death by trying to help her. “I think Mac is lying.”
“I think you’re right, but Marcus believes him on this. Mac even showed Marcus the bodies, but I think there’s more to this tale than he is letting us know. No one speaks openly of this, although a few around the inn know. You cannot let anyone else know.”
“My lips are sealed. So what are you going to do about Mac?”
“Nothing yet; I just hope he leaves soon. Stay away from him. He’s trouble, and make no mistake.”
“I have no intention of being near Mac.”
“Maybe not, but trouble seems to find you.”
What Ridley said gave Grace a lot to ponder. She thought about visiting Marcus again as The Death Dealer, but it would be dangerous with Mac in the city. Her promise to Marcus was to see to it that no one usurped his crown, and it seemed that was probably what Mac intended. There was no telling how much support Mac had in as well as out of Glenbard, and if she forced his hand now it could end horribly for herself and her new friends. For now she’d have to watch and wait. Her only concern was that when she did move, she’d be too late.
~*~*~
Grace stayed away from the common room of the Angel for a few days and worked hard to stay out of sight as she mucked out the stalls. At night, she and Ridley went down to the pier to eat and practice. Though Grace tried to stay out of trouble, a few regulars at the inn still glared at her when she brushed through for her meals. For the most part they trusted her because Marcus didn’t mind her being a former noble, but a few still held a grudge. None made any move against her because of her friendship with the Thieves’ Guild, but she still kept her guard up in case anyone was fool enough to come after her.
She felt strong enough to return to being The Death Dealer, but there was little trouble on the roads. The festival for Ciro was fast approaching and most people kept the peace around that time. It was like that all over Cesernan, so G
race’s days were filled with hiding from Mac and other angry patrons of the Angel, while her nights were spent wandering as The Death Dealer with no one to catch. But despite all her trying, Grace couldn’t stay out of trouble for long.
Hammer, Mac’s ill-tempered horse, and Mac had just returned from an early morning ride. Mac handed the reins over to Grace. “He needs looking after.”
Mayhew had gone in for an early lunch and Grace hated the idea of looking after Hammer. Mayhew usually did it these days because he didn’t want Grace getting wounded again. Now it would have to be Grace who unsaddled and brushed down the stallion. She wanted to stall for time, but it didn’t seem to be a possibility.
Mac stood by and watched as Grace went into the stall where Hammer was waiting for her to unhook the bridle. Grace looked around for a sympathetic face, but the only one she found was Pilgrim’s. The gelding was often tortured by nipping from Hammer and he fully understood what Grace was feeling.
As she reached out for the bridle, Hammer neighed furiously and snapped at her. Grace drew her hands back and stepped against the stall door. “My horse needs looking after now.” Grace heard a mocking fury behind Mac’s words, even though she couldn’t see his expression.
“Sir, your horse hates me. Perhaps it would be best if I went to fetch Master Mayhew.”
Grace reached behind her and felt for the door to push it open and get out of the stall. Mac grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around. “You do it!” His breath reeked of whiskey and his pupils danced; a clear sign he’d been drinking too much. Perhaps this early morning ride was just him returning after a night-long bender.
Mac let her go and pushed her backward toward Hammer.
Grace sucked up her courage. She had already survived worse things in the world than an angry horse. Still, she reached up with shaking hands and reached once more for the bridle. Hammer snorted and stamped his hoof, and she closed her eyes and somehow managed to get the bridle off without the beast snapping at her. Pilgrim twitched nervously in his stall and looked past Grace and Mac to the door that led into the Angel. He whinnied and hung his head.