Weapon of Vengeance (Weapon of Flesh Trilogy) (25 page)

What’s going on
?  The hairs rose up on the back
of Mya’s neck.  “Lad?”

A long moment passed, then Lad sighed and turned
around, his face a blank mask.  “I didn’t tell you everything.  There was
something I didn’t want the masters to know, but…now…”

“Okay.”  This didn’t sound like Lad.  Why would he
withhold information?  “What didn’t you want us to know?”

“Kiesha was there to protect us, you and me.”

“What?”

“Hensen was contracted by Patino to keep us alive. 
She killed five other assassins during that fight.  She was also the one who
killed the assassin who tried to murder me in that Eastmarket alley.  She saved
my life.”

“But…we assumed that the
Grandmaster
was
behind that.  So if Kiesha was protecting us, why would she kill Wig—”  The
puzzle pieces clicked together in Mya’s mind, and fear squeezed her heart in a
vice.  “The ring!  Gods of Light, you don’t think…”

“What I
think
doesn’t matter, Mya.  I don’t
know
what to think.  I need to find Kiesha to find out where her orders came from. 
I don’t think it was Hensen.  It could have been Patino.  And…it might have
been the Grandmaster…”

“But…we’re going to
meet
him!”  She got up
and began to pace, her steps halting.  She had to think.  Something didn’t
fit. 
Think!

“Yes.  Maybe I’ll discover the truth.”

“But how could he know?  Nobody knew Wiggen wore the
ring but you and me!”

“Until the fight started.”

She shook her head.  “No.  He couldn’t have known
there even
was
a ring!  He ordered me to have one forged, remember?”

“Yes.  It doesn’t make sense.”  He sighed and lifted
his hand to stare at the band of gold and obsidian.  “I just wanted to protect
her.”

So that’s it
! 
Guilt
…  Mya knew about
that, too.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Lad, but blaming
yourself for Wiggen’s death isn’t going to help.”

His glare stopped her pacing.  “How can I
not
blame myself?  The only thing that makes sense is that Kiesha killed Wiggen
because she wore the ring.  I put the ring on her finger.  I told her it would
keep her safe.”

“And it
did
!”  She met his ire, forcing her
voice to calm.  “She saved Lissa with it!  If she hadn’t been wearing the ring,
she would have been killed by Horice.”

“If she hadn’t been wearing the ring, she wouldn’t
have been there in the first place.”

“Okay.  Maybe, but you can’t keep blaming yourself. 
It’ll kill you, Lad!”

“You’re wrong.  I
can
blame myself, and I
do.”  He looked out the window.  “I killed her.”

“Fine.  Blame yourself!”  He snapped around, eyes
hard, but Mya refused to relent, determined that he would listen to the truth,
even if it meant her death.  “But if you think killing Kiesha, or whoever was
running her, is going to make you feel better about Wiggen, you’re being
stupid.”

“I don’t
care
about feeling better, Mya!” 
Two steps brought him to her, his luminous eyes blazing.  “I’m going to find
out who did this, and I’m going to kill them!”

Mya bit back her terror and held her ground,
determined to help him despite himself.  “For five years you told me you
weren’t a killer, and now all you want to do is murder someone.  You told me
you were
more
than just an assassin.”

“I
was
more!”  Lad trembled, seething with
rage.  “I was a father and a husband, but all that’s gone!”

“Gone?”  She clenched her jaw against a sharp
retort.  “You still have a family, Lad.  You still have Lissa!  If you kill for
vengeance, could you ever face her again?  Could you face Forbish and the rest
of them?  If you become a murderer, you’ll be alone forever.” 
Like me
…

“I
should
be alone!”  The pain in Lad’s voice
cut her like a razor.  “I put my whole family in danger just by being what I
am, Mya.  They’re better off without me.”

She knew it was true, but coming from him it sounded
wrong.

“No, they’re not, and
you’re
not better off
without
them
.”  Mya knew what it was to be alone.  She couldn’t let him
do that to himself.  “You told me they make you stronger, make you human.  Now,
for fear of putting them in danger, you want to become nothing but a murderer?”

“I can’t be guildmaster
and
have a family,
Mya.  It’s not safe for them!”

“Then I’ll take it.”  Mya bit her tongue in
surprise. 
Where in the Nine Hells did that come from
?  Where, she
didn’t know, but she knew it was the right thing to do.

“What?”

“I’ll take the ring.”  She might not be able to help
him the way she wanted to, but she could help him in this.  “We’ll tell the
Grandmaster that you put the ring on by mistake.”

“But…”  Lad stared at her, speechless for a moment. 
He looked down at the ring on his finger, then back to her.  “But you didn’t
want it.”

“That doesn’t matter.  I’m an assassin, Lad.  That’s
all I’ll ever be.  You’re…more than that.”

His countenance softened, and Mya felt as if those
luminous eyes stared into her soul.  “Why would you do that?”

Love is a weakness
…

“Because I was wrong to be afraid of it.”  She
brushed her hair back behind her ear.  “If the Grandmaster doesn’t kill me
outright for burning his letter, I’ll tell him I’ll take his offer.  He wanted
me to be Twailin guildmaster in the first place.  We can convince him you’re
not very good at it, that you’re better as my personal bodyguard.”  Her mind
spun ahead, warming to the possibilities. 
This just might work
.  “If he
agrees, I’ll help you find whoever is behind Wiggen’s death, and we’ll see an
end to it.  After that, you can be a father again.  You can leave; take your
family and go.  You never signed a blood contract, so the guild can’t track you
down.  You’re the only assassin in the guild who can escape.  Nobody will dare
touch you as long as I’m Twailin’s guildmaster.”  She would be a slave forever,
but that would change nothing, and maybe, just maybe, she could give Lad his
life back.  He could be a father again.

Lad stared at her so long that Mya fidgeted under
his scrutiny.

“And if he refuses?”

Mya shrugged.  “Then we’re back where we started. 
We won’t know unless we try.”

“What if he’s behind Wiggen’s murder?”

Panic screamed through Mya’s mind. 
He’s going to
get you killed
!

She forced the fear down.  She was ready to die for
him a moment ago.  Nothing had changed, but she might be able to convince him
to exercise some restraint.  “Then bide your time.  Kowtow and kiss his feet,
if that’s what he wants, but don’t do anything stupid.  Neither of us can touch
him.  If we find out he’s responsible, then we back out and make a plan.  Maybe
you can have someone cut the ring off and go back.”

“I could have someone cut it off now.”

“No.”  Mya shook her head, her mind in full assassin
mode now, thinking of the potential problems, all the pitfalls that could get
them killed.  “He’ll never see you if you’re not wearing the ring.  Besides,
you said yourself that it’s a long shot that he had anything to do with this. 
We’ll meet with him, get the facts, and plan from there.  Kiesha’s the key.  If
we don’t learn anything in Tsing about Patino or the Grandmaster, we’ll find
Kiesha on our own, and discover the truth.”

He stared at her, his face unreadable. 
“You’re…brilliant, Mya.  I didn’t think…”  He shook his head.  “I didn’t think
I could ever escape.”

The flicker of hope in Lad’s eyes sent a surge of
warmth through Mya that she’d never experienced before. 
I did that.  I gave
him that
.  “Now, how do we get you to sleep?  Have you tried meditating?”

“Yes.  It doesn’t work.  I can’t concentrate.”

“Well, you could try alcohol, but you don’t want a
hangover tomorrow.”

“Alcohol makes it worse.”  He shrugged and turned
back to the window.  “And it gives me nightmares.”

Mya knew about nightmares, too.  She still had them.

“Okay, then.”  The obvious solution flashed into her
mind, but she knew that if she suggested sex, the fragile trust she’d forged
would be shattered.  “How about exercise?  I know sitting in a carriage all day
has my muscles in knots.  Have you been doing your dance?  Your perfect
fighting style?”  She knew he hadn’t since they left Twailin.

“No.  Not for…some time.  I can’t focus.”

“You need to.  Come on.”  She pushed a chair out of
the way, and kicked Lad’s blanket and pillow into the corner.  “I’ll help.  We
can do it together.”

“There’s not enough space in here.”

She grinned and nodded to the window.  “I’m sure we
can find someplace secluded outside.”

“But…”  Doubt flashed across his eyes, reluctance.

“You have to
want
to do this, Lad.”  She saw
his resistance stiffen. 
Wrong approach
.  “Do you want to sleep or not?”

“Yes, but…”  He took another deep breath and closed
his eyes.  “Forcing myself…to get over this…seems…wrong.”

Guilt
…  She knew that poison, and how
to draw it out.

“Getting a decent night’s sleep doesn’t mean
forgetting about Wiggen.”  His eyes flicked open, filled with pain, but less
anger. 
That’s it! 
Now she knew the lever she could use to get him past
this guilt.  “Would she
want
you to drive yourself crazy like this?”

“No.”

“Then let’s go out and get some exercise.”

He hesitated as if he might pose yet another excuse,
then relented.  “All right.”  He retrieved a dark shirt from his trunk and
slipped it on while she opened the window.

Mya slipped out of her pajamas.  Her wrappings were
comfortable, and she didn’t want to give Lad time to change his mind by
changing into her work clothes.  A quick glance out the window confirmed that
no one was about.  “Ready?”

“Of course.”

“Then follow me.”

Mya took two steps back, then a running dive through
the window.  Cool night air and starlight engulfed her.  She flipped as she
fell the three stories, landing in the courtyard silently and all but
invisible.  Lad landed like a feather beside her, taking the shock of the drop
on the balls of his feet.

“This way.”  She took off at a dead run, sparing
only a quick glance back.  He was there, right on her heels, his footfalls no
louder than her pounding heart.

They dashed through the courtyard gate, across the
road, over a low stone wall, and up the sloping hill of a fallow field beyond. 
At the crest of the rise she stopped, and he beside her.  The short run had
neither of them breathing hard, but her muscles were loose and warm.  They
stood on a low knoll, a quarter mile from anything or anyone, alone under the
starlit sky.

“Secluded enough?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s begin.”  Side by side, they both
clenched fist to palm in front of their chests, and bowed.

They commenced in perfect unison. 

Step, sweep, spin, punch
…

Two shadows in the darkness, invisible save to one
another.

Block, step, turn, strike
… 

Mya felt Lad moving with her as she increased the
cadence, perfect in their synchronicity.

Lunge, step, kick, spin
…

Faster, yet still their motions were as one, a
single deadly creature spinning through the night.

Mya’s heart pounded, not with exertion, but
elation.  She recalled the battle in the courtyard near Fiveway Fountain, their
deadly dance together through the blood and rain, the flashing blades and
gore.  Now, as then, they were bound by a synergy that transcended anything
physical, much less carnal.

This
…  Mya increased the pace to a
blinding cadence, her feet churning the loamy soil as she spun. 
This is all
I’ll ever have with him.  It’s enough
…

The sequence ended with them poised in the final
bow.  A light sweat dampened Mya’s brow, but she was hardly tired.

“Again!”  She slipped into the opening stance.

“Yes.”  He followed, every move as fluid as water on
glass.

They began again, two killers seeking solace in
physical perfection, fighting their inner demons the only way they could, if
only for the hope of a dreamless night’s sleep.

If only
…

L
ad
bolted up off the floor, kicking away his tangled blanket to land on the balls
of his feet, poised to kill.

Another knock sounded at the door, and a maid called
out, “Sir.  Ma’am.  Breakfast.”

“We’ll be down shortly.”  Mya smiled at him from the
bed.  “You slept.” 

“Yes, I…I
did
sleep.”  Still groggy, Lad
rubbed his face.

Gods, how I slept
…  And for the first time in
weeks, his dreams had been silent.  They’d returned to their room very late,
exhausted and drenched in sweat.  While Mya padded out to the bathing room, Lad
had quickly washed with a damp cloth, and lay down in his makeshift bed.  He
hadn’t even heard her return. 

 “I’m glad.”  Mya’s gaze flicked down from his eyes,
then back up.  Only when he followed that gaze did he remember that he’d doffed
his sweat-damp silks before bathing the night before.  He stood before her
mother naked and, while his mind wasn’t quite awake yet, the rest of his body
certainly was. 

He snatched up the blanket and wrapped it around his
waist.  “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be.  I’ve seen you naked before.  It doesn’t
bother me.”  Mya brushed her hair back as she looked away.

Not like this you haven’t
.  Wiggen had taught Lad modesty,
informing him laughingly that he couldn’t go taking his clothes off in front of
just anyone…only her.  His chest tightened with the remembrance, and he turned
his back as Mya got out of bed.   He heard her doff her pajamas, then the
slither of her wrappings as she pulled them off the clothes tree where she’d
hung them to dry overnight.

As he reached for his trousers, motion drew his eye
to the mirror beside the dresser, and he stopped short.  Mya stood with one
foot on the dressing chair, her back toward him as she wound her wrappings
around her leg.  A lattice of tattoos covered her like black lace, shimmering
on her smooth skin, rippling as she moved, dark and liquid.

Lad looked away, angry at the instinctive tug of
lust.  He knew his reaction was natural, purely physical and impossible to
suppress, but that didn’t stop the guilt.  It made him feel unfaithful to the
only woman he had ever loved.  Grabbing his trousers, Lad pulled them on and
struggled to button them.

Despite the embarrassment, he felt remarkably
better, able to think clearly for the first time in days. 
Exercise and
sleep
…  They’d repeated the dance a dozen times, improvising as they
progressed, modifying the sequence to complement one another.  It had felt good
to move, to concentrate, to immerse himself in the sequence, to stretch both
body and mind.

“Thank you for coaxing me into exercising.  I feel much
better.”

The sound of Mya’s wrapping halted for a moment. 
“I’m glad I could help,” she said hesitantly, then resumed.

Lad stole another glance as he donned his shirt. 
Covered from the waist down, she continued wrapping with quick, deft motions,
the magically enhanced material writhing to cover every bit of tattooed skin as
she wound it around and around.

So wrapped in secrecy
…

Mya glanced over her shoulder, caught his gaze in
the mirror, and stopped again, the bundle of black cloth poised at her waist.

Lad looked away first, snatching up his waistcoat
and pulling it on.  They finished dressing in silence, the only words a
muttered curse from Mya as she cinched the laces of her corset.  The silk and
metal contraption creaked, squeezing her figure into an hourglass shape. 
Wiggen had never worn a corset.  Such affectations seemed as silly as the
cravat he was struggling to tie, and the hard-soled shoes that tortured his
feet.

Lad packed their few items in their trunks as Mya
pulled her voluminous dress over her head.  Finally, he was free to turn
around.

“There!”  She finished tightening the laces and
smoothed the skirt.  “Presentable once again.”

Lad shrugged into his jacket and tugged it
straight.  “Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“A little.”  Her eyes roved over him from head to
toe.  “Your tie’s crooked.  Here, let me fix it.”

As she stepped close and reached up to adjust the
bothersome thing, Lad suppressed the urge to step back.  Mya’s proximity had
always set him on edge, and her touch made him grit his teeth. 
But not last
night
, he realized.  They’d spent half the night working themselves to
exhaustion, always close, often touching, and he’d felt no reticence. 
So
why now
?  He held still while she adjusted the cloth and pin, tugged the
lapels of his jacket, and patted the wrinkles out.  Her hands lingered for a
scant moment longer than necessary before she stepped back.

“There.  Perfect.”  She bit her lip.

Another tell
.  Lad wondered at her nervous
mannerism.  Since her outburst last night, Mya had not shown her usual fear of
him. 
But these tells
…  She was clearly hiding something.  His thoughts
turned to her offer to take the guildmaster position. 
Was she sincere
? 
Mya never did anything that didn’t further her own ends, and when he’d asked
her why, she’d brushed her hair back, yet another sign of evasion. 
What’s
her motive
?  Did she have some scheme brewing?  Would she denounce him as a
usurper to gain the Grandmaster’s favor?  He didn’t like to think it, but she’d
betrayed him in the past. Then, last night, she’d helped him. 
Why
?

“Let’s go.”  Lad flipped the trunk lid closed.  When
he turned around, she was already fidgeting at the door, her nails ticking
together as she flicked her finger and thumb, yet another tell. 
What’s
bothering her
?  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”  She opened the door and hurried
through.  “Just hungry.  I can smell the bacon from here, can’t you?”

“Yes.”  Lad followed, his mind awhirl.  Was she
regretting her offer to help him, or was there something else she was keeping
from him?  He would find out sooner or later.  At least now he could think
straight.

Nice place
, Norwood thought as he looked
out the window at Baron Patino’s estate.  Pea gravel crunched under his boots
as he stepped down from the carriage.  Brutus growled at the workers bustling
about the outbuildings; there were too many people about for the dog’s liking. 
For now, Norwood was fine with the crowd.  An assassin wasn’t likely to strike
with a dozen folks looking on.  He patted the dog’s head.

Norwood looked around, scrutinizing the estate.  The
gravel drive circled a granite sculpture of the Patino coat of arms taller than
the captain.  The house itself, a pillared edifice in the plantation style,
stood two stories high, with arched walkways and white-stone balustrades on the
second-floor balconies.  Beside the drive and beyond the house, stables, barns,
sheds and workers’ quarters were set amidst vegetable gardens and corrals, everything
spotlessly clean.

“Have them stable the carriage.  I’ll be a while.”

“Yes, sir.”  The driver and single guardsman lounged
back in their seats, blissfully ignorant of the danger their captain might be
walking into.  Tamir was the only one Norwood had told, and he was nowhere in
sight.  Playing this so close to the vest was dangerous, but his plan would
only work if the assassin thought Norwood was here without protection.

A burly man with sleeves rolled up over well-muscled
forearms approached, two bright-eyed sheepdogs following at his heels.  Brutus
growled at the long-haired animals, and they cowered behind their master.

“Easy, boy.”

“And can I be helpin’ you, sir?” The man’s voice had
a thick back-country brogue.

“Yes.  I’m Captain Norwood of the Royal Guard.  I’m
here to see Mistress Jieco.”

“Mistress said someone would be comin’ by,
Captain.”  The man looked him up and down.  “I’m Sinthas, the foreman.  The mistress
should be—”

“Right here.” The estate manager stepped out the
front door onto the porch.  She was dressed in trousers and boots, a riding
crop in her hand, her hair bound in a tight braid, and a broad-brimmed hat
flopping against her back from a strap around her neck.  Her sharp eyes said
plainly that she wasn’t happy with this.  She hadn’t been happy last night
either, when he told her his plan, but in the interest of capturing Baron
Patino’s killer, she’d agreed to help.  “I hope this doesn’t take long.  I’ve
work to do.”

“I’m afraid it may take a while, ma’am.”  Norwood
nodded politely.  “But I don’t want to keep you from your work.  I just need to
see the account books, so if you show me where they’re kept, you can get about
your business.”

“Fine.”  She turned to the foreman.  “Saddle my
horse, Sinthas.  I’ll be ten minutes.”

Norwood mounted the steps to the porch, but Jieco
stood in front of the open door, preventing his entrance.

“You’ll have to leave your dog outside, Captain.  We
don’t allow animals in the house under
any
circumstances.”  She
gestured, and a boy ran forward.  “Yeshi here will see to him.”

“No need.”  Norwood held his hand out, palm facing
the dog, and Brutus sat.  “Brutus, stay.”

The mastiff sat and looked up at him, a thick strand
of drool dripping from his pendulous jowl.

“He’ll stay there?”  Jieco looked skeptical.

“Until all Nine Hells freeze over or I call him.” 
Not
the complete truth, but enough
.  Norwood gestured to the house.  “Shall
we?”

“This way, Captain.”

He followed her into the manor house, leaving the
door ajar behind him.  If the assassin struck, he wanted to be able to call on
Brutus, and despite the mastiff’s brawn, a latched door would easily thwart
him. 

So far, so good
.

Their boot heels clicked on polished white marble as
they crossed the impressive entrance hall.  The Patino crest in burnished brass
hung upon one wall.  Jieco turned left and led him down a short hallway with
four doors along the sides, and a fifth at the end.  Norwood tried to maintain
a casual posture, wondering if a killer lurked behind one of the doors.  Tam
and Tango were here somewhere, he just hoped they were close.

Jieco unlocked the door at the end of the corridor
and gestured him inside.  The study was bright and cozy at the same time.  High
windows on two walls let in ample light, and plush chairs in front of the cold
hearth looked perfect for relaxing and reading.  Unfortunately, Norwood wasn’t
here to relax.  Just as well, for he could never relax under the eyes of
generations of Patinos who stared down at him from their portraits upon the
dark-paneled walls.

Emi Jieco waved toward a bookshelf crowded with
ledgers.  “There are the books, Captain.  I hope you know what you’re looking
for.”

“I do.  Thank you for your help.”  He nodded toward
the corridor.  “I don’t want to keep you from your work any longer.”

“Very well.  Please try to put things back where you
found them.”

“I’ll try not to disturb anything, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”  Looking sternly at him, as if afraid
that he would wreak havoc on her neatly organized ledgers, she finally left,
closing the door behind her.