A Dance of Death (18 page)

“Watch your tongue…”

“I will speak as I wish in my own household. You are guests, and I am being gracious calling you that. The city guard has left for now, but they’ll come back. Go to Veldaren where you’ll be beyond Ingram’s reach. Don’t treat me like a fool, Alyssa. I know no Gemcroft blood runs in either of their veins. I won’t have you destroy my household just because of some crude attachment to your pet killers.”

Alyssa did not back down, and more shocking, her hand fell to the hilt of a dagger attached to her belt.

“Do not presume to give me orders,” she said. “I will not go running like a coward, nor refuse the protection your husband has offered me. Now, if you please, Haern and Zusa need to rest.”

Madelyn went to the door, but could not resist one last parting shot.

“You should be responsible for your own actions, your own errors. Too often the rest of the Trifect gets dragged down with you.”

“You stupid woman,” Alyssa said. “I’m the one who faced the thieves while you fled. It was my servants who died, my coin that paid for the mercenaries to stand against them. I earned our current peace with blood and gold while you stayed down here in Angelport, so eager in your safety to tell me everywhere I went wrong. Why do you think I’m here, Madelyn? It was your sole task to keep the Merchant Lords in line, and you and your husband have failed spectacularly. You once owned every boat sailing from Angelport, yet now hardly a ship bears your crest. The Merchant Lords have taken your boats, your trade, and now take aim at the last lucrative business you have left. I’ve come to help clean up your mess, and now you accuse me of being the cause of it?”

She reached into her pocket and flung a small bag at her. Madelyn caught it out of pure reflex, but only after it softly smacked against her chest. She barely felt it, so stunned was she.

“Try some Violet,” she said. “Bite down on a leaf and breathe deep, and when you do, imagine what will happen when the value of your crimleaf trade dwindles to nothing because of it. When Connington and I open our coffers to keep your family afloat, we’ll see who drags who down.”

Madelyn crushed the bag in shaking hands, and she heard the sound of crinkling leaves.

“All three of you deserve nothing but the noose,” she said. “One day, my husband will see that.”

Alyssa slammed the door shut in her face.

At first Madelyn wanted to find Tori and hold her to her chest, to cry out all her anger and frustration, but she knew she could not. Not yet. Despite his subtle request for privacy, Madelyn went to their room. It was dark inside, heavy curtains blotting out the little light given off by the setting sun. Laurie lay half-naked across the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn’t look at her when he spoke.

“I wish to be alone.”

“I know.”

Her dress fell to the floor. When she climbed into the bed, he tried to resist. She grabbed his wrists, pressed her mouth to his, and straddled him, ending the protest. She let the fire within her take over, riding out her fury as her husband moaned. When he climaxed, she lay atop him, her lips beside his ear.

“We’re losing control,” she whispered in the dark.

“I know.”

“How did it happen? You were feared among even the Trifect. Your cruelty was legendary.”

“Seven long years happened. I never enjoyed it, and here in Angelport, I thought the fear unnecessary. You know that.”

She nestled closer to him, resting a hand atop his chest.

“Your cruelty was a tool, and we need it back. Everyone is against us: Ingram, the Merchant Lords, the elves, that murderous Wraith; even Alyssa. We can’t trust them, not any of them. We were meant to rule.
You
were meant to rule. Can you not do so?”

Laurie sighed, and she could tell he was staring at the ceiling, searching through his thoughts for the right words to say. That alone told her she wouldn’t like what she would hear.

“Alyssa is one of the few left we can trust, Madelyn. And the elves are helping us, just as we are helping them. Did you not know?”

Madelyn felt her blood run cold.

“We help the elves? How?”

“Alyssa helped pay, but I secured places for the elves to stay within the city. We need their aid in stopping the Violet from spreading across Dezrel. If the merchants ever gained access to their forests, and start growing it in crops…”

Madelyn felt a chill run through her as she thought of what Ingram would do if he ever discovered their involvement. She thought to challenge Laurie over this, but then bit her tongue. Her hand reached under her pillow, to where she kept her dagger.

“You’re not the man I married,” she said.

“I suppose not, but neither are you the wife I once knew.”

She plunged the dagger into his throat. He caught her wrists when it was an inch in, blood pooling about the tip. His neck tightened, and his eyes flared wide as he fought against her.

“Just stop,” Madelyn said as she flung all her weight into the thrust. Tears ran down her face. “Please, stop, just stop, just let it go.”

The tip sank further in. He tried to scream, but all he could do was let out a quiet gurgle as he choked. He shifted his weight, but if there was any part of her stronger than her husband, it was her thighs, and she straddled him as she had only moments ago. His whole body began to shake violently. His eyes met hers, and she refused to look away despite the horror she saw. Despite the betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as his strength faded, and he could no longer stop the blade from sinking another inch. Her lips brushed his ear as blood smeared across her bare breasts. “But you aren’t strong enough to save us. Tori needs better. I need better.”

She stabbed again and again, turning and shredding flesh.
I do this for Taras,
she thought.
I do this for his child.
When her dagger revealed bone, she finally stopped. All at once, it seemed the room was painfully quiet. Only her breath broke the silence, that and the soft patter of blood dripping from the drenched sheets to the floor. Madelyn felt something lurking heavy above her, like an animal ready to pounce, but she could not relent. She had to be strong, stronger than Laurie had ever been. Steeling herself, she took the dagger, knelt on the floor, and began to draw.

Taras,
she thought, even as she scrawled the symbol left by his killer.
For you, Taras.

It wasn’t hard, the drawing. It’d only been burned into her memory, only haunted her eyes every time she looked to the little baby girl left in her care.

Compared to that, tearing Laurie’s body to pieces was a simple but tiresome measure, especially with only a dagger to do the cutting. It had to match, she thought. Had to be perfect. Everything felt detached, her own actions that of a stranger. Was it really her twisting and pulling until an elbow joint snapped, and the bloody flesh tore free? Was it really her jamming a dagger into her husband’s eye sockets? The tears running down her face, dripping into the innards spilling across the carpet, were the only thing that convinced her she was still human.

At last she stood in the center of the room, her naked body hopelessly stained red, her arms coated up to the elbow with gore. The hours had passed, each one threatening to crush her completely. The heavy weight felt closer, more dangerous. It clung to her shoulders, dragged at her arms, and threatened to tear away her eyelids so she’d see everything she’d done in that horrible room. That detached feeling was gone, though she wished for it to return. Yes, it was her husband that lay before her.

Not done yet,
she thought as panic clawed her throat. She slid underneath their bed, stabbed a hole into the feather mattress, and then shoved the dagger inside. In the darkness, she could barely see but for the dim glow of a single lamp she’d lit. Removing it from its hook upon the wall, she set it on the ground so its light would spread underneath the bed. Dipping her hands in her wash basin to clean them, she retrieved a needle and some thread from their closet, crawled underneath, and began the painstaking process of sewing the mattress shut.

No one could know. No one could ever know.

With that done, she put everything away. Taking her husband’s sword from the decorative crest above their dresser, she clutched the scabbard and breathed in deep. With three hits she smashed open a window, then put the sword back it in its place. At last, she was free. At last, she could invite the torment in, let the realization of what she’d done consume her like a brutal fire. Again and again she screamed, letting free every bit of her grief, fury, and loss.

In moments, the door burst open.

“He said he’d kill me if I made a noise,” Madelyn sobbed, Laurie’s horrific corpse held lovingly in her naked arms. “He said…he said…”

Her wail echoed throughout the mansion as guards poured in, once more baffled and furious at their inability to stop the Wraith from killing.

T
he captain’s quarters of the
Ravenshade
were even smaller than on the
Fireheart,
but they still had a bed, which was good enough for Darrel. Light streamed in as the whores opened the door to leave. Instead of shutting, and leaving him in blessed silence, the door pushed wide, and in stepped Lord Ulrich Blackwater.

“Least you waited until I was finished this time,” Darrel muttered.

“Two?” Ulrich asked, glancing behind him.

“Been a rough few days. Thought I deserved the indulgence.”

Ulrich chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Darrel asked. “You think I can’t handle two women?”

“I’m amused you know the word indulgence.”

The captain grinned.

“Ulrich, if there’s ever a word I’m good friends with in this ugly world, it’s that one.”

“Fascinating. Put on some damn pants so we can talk. I’ll be waiting on the deck.”

He shut the door. Darrel scratched at his beard, waiting for his alcohol-filled brain to remember just where he’d tossed his pants before the two women worked their magic on his dick. Finding them behind him on the bed, he pulled them on, tightened the strings, and grabbed a nearby shirt. He was still looping his arms through it as he stepped out onto the deck of his new ship. New to him, anyway, for the diminutive vessel had sailed for many years, and only recently been purchased as a replacement for the
Fireheart.

“A real beauty, ain’t she?” he said, seeing Ulrich looking over his ship.

“The best I could do at such short notice,” the merchant said, unimpressed with his sarcasm. “You’re lucky to even have a ship after what happened to my cargo.”

“You know damn well that wasn’t my fault. Three men keeping watch, and they died like they was still scabs. Every one of them knew how to kill, Ulrich, I assure you. Someone don’t want you getting the Violet. That Wraith fellow, maybe?”

“Maybe.” Ulrich bit at his lip, and the captain noticed the way the man’s hands were twitching.

“You need a drink?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

He pulled a tiny sliver of something green from his pocket, popped it on his tongue, and then chewed.

“So what is it you’re here for?” Darrel asked, crossing his arms. He had no intention of watching his boss take little snippets of Violet, not when he couldn’t have any himself. Every shred of it had gone down with the
Fireheart,
burning away a fortune and nearly killing him in his sleep to boot. He’d woken by the sound of warning cries and dove into the water just in time.

“Laurie Keenan died last night,” Ulrich said, sniffing deeply. “Killed by the Wraith.”

“No shit? Who’s running the family now?”

“His wife.”

“Damn. What’s that got to do with me?”

Ulrich appeared to visibly calm, and he gave Darrel a wide grin.

“Things are coming to fruition, my dear captain, but we need to ensure everything goes our way. Madelyn’s scooping up every mercenary in the city, and throwing enough gold to break what little loyalty they had to us. We need a counter. I want you to start spreading orders to the rest of my ships, and my brother’s too.”

“What’s that?”

“No one leaves Angelport. I don’t care if the docks fill up, either. Beach along the coast if need be.”

Darrel tried to do the math, but knew that number was way beyond him.

“You’re talking a lot of waste and headaches,” he said. “Any foodstuffs will spoil, and that’s not touching the nonsense we’ll encounter in every damn port we arrive late to, assuming we arrive at all. The other merchants all right with this?”

“They will be. We need as many fighting men as possible, all loyal to us. It’s time this city learned who’s really in charge. Any friends you know, bring them on board. Plenty of men may not consider themselves sellswords, but they’ll still bleed and die for a bit of coin. I want them all.”

“What if someone leaves anyway?” Darrel asked.

Ulrich gave him a pleasant smile.

“Then all nearby ships are to board, tie up their crew, and burn them alive. No one leaves, Darrel. No one.”

Darrel shrugged.

“You’re in charge, so I’ll spread the word. What will you do in the meantime?”