Bounty (9 page)

*

“
Hey Little-britches,” Kane hailed Seth as he entered past the guard. “Mastodon wants to see you. Five minutes ago. Don’t just stand there, chump. Scat.”

Seth hadn’t paused. Casting a long-suffering, mordant look over his shoulder at the impatient guard, he descended through the vanishing fire and headed toward Mastodon’s dreaded study. He knew what this was about.

He entered without knocking, thinking that an order was even better than an invitation and he had every right to let himself in. Mastodon coolly watched him approach her desk, half-hidden behind the drifting smoke of her incense. Seth tried not to choke on the overpowering scent. Mastodon just breathed in scent and smoke alike like it was her idea of fresh air. Watching the smoke whisk into her nostrils, Seth stood across from her.

“
Have yourself a seat, Sethos,” the dark-haired woman bade.

“
I’ll stand.”

“
Suit yourself.”

“
Let’s get this over with, shall we? Would you mind…spitting it out?” That last part was said completely politely.

“
So eager to face your reckoning?” Mastodon cocked an eyebrow at him, as usual.

“
Anticipation always seemed so much worse to me than braving the consequences up front.”

“
I see.”

“
Well?”

“
Well. I’m going to say this very bluntly since you already seem informed about what you’ve done.”

“
I am the one that did it, after all.”

“
True enough. Keep your dry humor to yourself.”

“
As you wish,” Seth said. Dryly.

“
I will not even begin to tolerate scandalous actions like what you practiced today in my dungeon, with
my
prisoners. I don’t have them imprisoned only to have them tirelessly freed from under my nose. I will not be made a fool of. I will not be defied. I
will not be deliberately disobeyed.
Stop
letting my prisoners go, Sethos. Now I’m not going to ask if you understand me. I will
ensure
that you understand.” The threat was daunting in her even tone, and Seth swallowed, but he looked her in the eye and refused to flinch from her gaze. On the contrary, when she stood as if to deliver him to the punishment she had chosen for him, he stepped closer, put his palms on her desk, and leaned into her pall of smoke to look her straight in her face.

“
I’m not going to ask how you know it was me,” Seth said. “I don’t
care
if it was the ghosts that witnessed it or not.
I
witnessed Ossen the first time, and I will not accept all the blame. I
know
you have spies watching our every move, and that’s how you found me out. So don’t
tell
me you didn’t see Ossen as well. I’m not sure why you’re turning a blind eye on his misgivings, but if you want to cover for him that’s your business. Just know that
I
know about it, and if I’m going down for this prank, I’m taking him down with me.”

Mastodon, to his surprise, lowered herself back into her seat. Even more to his surprise – she smiled after a moment. “You young ones do amuse me,” she said. There was resignation in her voice, but – yes, candid amusement. “All the drama between you, the little heroic bursts of loyalty and the clever stabs of spite. Always at each other, back and forth. It’s refreshing having some youthful spirits around here. Ah, well. It wouldn’t be good of me to punish you now that I see you divine it isn’t altogether fair, would it? Consider us all even. But, Sethos,” Mastodon said with long-suffering disapproval, “don’t set any more of my prisoners free, eh? It’s a horrible inconvenience.”

*

Sethos wandered into Ossen’s claimed corner, lounging on the bench across from the sweet-smelling fellow and earning his instant, detesting attention. Seth made a show of looking around, though, not quick to give a reason for his presence.

“
This is cozy,” he commented.

“
What do
you
want?” Ossen asked.

“
Me? Oh, nothing. I’m perfectly content with what I’ve got.”

“
Then get lost.”

“
I am lost. This place is just
riddled
with unnecessary twists and turns, don’t you think? I’ve been going in circles – although, honestly, they feel more like triangles; I don’t get dizzy so much as jarringly disconcerted and turned around. Maybe it’s just–”

“
Sulk off!”

“
Mastodon requires your presence,” Seth said curtly, suddenly wasting no more time.

Ossen took pause at that, but didn’t give Seth the pleasure of him asking questions. He was not going to let Seth explain things, since Seth was so obviously in a smug mood. He didn’t trust that. Pursing his lips unhappily, he hesitated, and then grudgingly went to respond to Mastodon’s summons.

Seth smiled to himself. It was a bitter smile, though. For although he had managed to arrange for Ossen to take the compromise of punishment, that compromise was simply that Ossen would be troubled to track down the boy the second time. So he hadn’t solved everything, since the boy was obviously destined to spend more time in Mastodon’s dungeon. But at least it wouldn’t be on Godren that he was there. Godren could not live with that. He had been kicking himself, tearing himself apart for it ever since following those cruel orders and fetching the boy back. And Seth had burned with the knowledge that it had been Ossen who set the boy free – with the ulterior motive of seeing Godren struggle with the orders to hunt him back down. Seth would not stand for that. It provoked him enough when Ossen jabbed at
him
, but when he started attacking Godren so fiercely…Seth had to let the blade fall, consequences or not. He felt mortally responsible for Godren, and he was not going to let Ossen contribute to locking the cage that was ever closing on his endangered friend. Ossen wasn’t worth wasting away for. He could not be given the pleasure of seeing his petty spitefulness eat Godren up.

But Godren had a lot on his plate – poisoned stuff that he was forcing himself to eat on his own. How long until he choked? Seth wondered. He was doing whatever he could to lighten the load on Godren’s shoulders. Ossen could play his scornful games, but Seth was serious. He was going to fight. He was going to topple those games like a destructive child. Unlike Godren, he did not mind deigning to that level to fight back.

10:
Royal Affair

G
odren felt like he was constantly squinting into the glaring sunlight. It had been too long since he’d been above ground and out of the smothering – and usually night-shadowed – alleys of the Ruins. In truth, it was the last assignment he had really expected from Mastodon, but he was so starved of daylight and cleanliness that he banished every ounce of the urge to question it. The assignment it
self
wasn’t so questionable, really. It was just the
setting
; so open and bright and…exposed.

The assignment was to blend into the gathering that was to assemble in the town square, where the king would be addressing the people. Mastodon wanted to know if anything would be voiced in opposition to her, and Godren and Seth were there to listen in.

The blessed
cleanliness
came from the awkward fact that they would have quickly been matched to the memorized faces distributed to the people on their personalized Wanted posters, and so Mastodon had reluctantly dipped into a fraction of her stingy resources to clean them up and make them look presentable.
More
than presentable, actually, for they were both equipped with noble coats and good boots, primped and preened, and even had the good graces to
smell
nice.

“
Don’t get used to it,” Mastodon had warned. She saw no need to indulge them except on these rare occasions when it benefited her, and she made it very clear she would strip them of their finery and throw them back in with the pigs as soon as their assignment was complete. They would likely never catch wind of her horde of wealth again. She was all about her men earning every bit of their keep, and then they were welcome to keep themselves. Not exactly a hospitable employer, but she had to keep her men humble. It would not hurt them to keep roughing it like they always had. They had her as an ally, after all. That was plenty, the way she saw it. They were getting a fine deal.

“
I feel uncomfortable in all this nonsensical pizzazz,” Seth remarked, awkwardly shifting his light blue coat. He managed to straighten it, but didn’t manage to look any less awkward. “I never realized how comfortable our scraps of clothing actually were. Aside from being impractical in the cold, they actually agreed with me quite nicely.”

“
I never wore scraps,” Godren defended himself, eyeing the crowd around him. “Now stop fidgeting inside your clothes or that’s going to give us away right there.”

“
Then stop eyeing the crowd like you’ve got a good reason to be wary of them.”

Godren looked at Seth, blinking. He hadn’t realized what he’d been doing. “Right. Good point. I guess we would do ourselves a service if we both proceeded more naturally.”

Seth grunted his agreement, squaring his shoulders and trying to do his attire some justice. Godren assumed a relaxed, friendly air, making a point to smile and nod every time someone went by.

“
Good day. Long live the king. Greetings. How’s the wife? Hello. My lady. Good morning.” A nudge in the ribs stopped him.

“
You’re overdoing it a little bit, Godren.”

“
Oh.”

Seth nodded pointedly, crossing his arms. “Oh indeed. Come on, Ren. We can do better than this.”

“
Alright. Just think back to those colorful theater nights Millie put on. We were pretty convincing as the cow and the bride, weren’t we?”

“
I don’t know that reenacting that particular likeness would lend us the ideal edge we’re looking for.”

“
I suppose being dramatic would draw more attention even than being awkward. I still remember the overdone flare you had. Can you imagine trying to blend with the crowd with you swooning and shouting and waving your hands around in passionate expression?”

“
There’s nothing wrong with being dramatic. It makes a good scene.”

“
Exactly,” Godren pointed out. “We’re not looking to make a scene.”

“
Right.”

A rippling murmur went through the crowd, and then a rapt silence began to settle, and Godren subconsciously straightened his own crimson coat as the king ascended to the platform.

His Majesty was a tall, dashing man, graying but still graced with a general youthfulness that the people were captured and reassured by. He looked strong, and his energy was catching. Even when his mouth turned grim, his eyes twinkled, the creases at their edges bearing evidence to how much he had smiled during his life. ‘Serious but happy’ was what most deemed him, and it seemed quite an accurate judgment.

He was tanned by the sun – a well-liked indication that he did not spend all his time cooped up spoiling himself and being pampered by his servants. His hands were calloused, and though clean and polished, he had scars.

“
Greetings to the square,” His Majesty called out with a friendly air and a bit of a smile. A chorus of cheers and returned greetings met his opening words, and the smile in his eyes deepened. When everyone quieted, he began in earnest. “I hope you all have made it through the winter in good fortune and good spirits. Due to the premature mercy of the taxing weather and the early relief of spring, it is my pleasure to announce a cut in the currently pending tax rate.” Another cheer, and the king waited, fondly delighted by the people’s reaction, for them to settle down. “In addition, I would like to invite you all to remain in the square after we’ve addressed the business we’ve come for, in honor of my beloved daughter, her Highness the Princess Catris Vandelta, whose pleasure it would be to celebrate her eighteenth birthday with you.”

Had the people ever experienced such an overwhelming chain of good fortune dropped on them so unexpectedly? His Majesty had certainly made the day of everyone present in the square – including Godren, who stared without shame as the princess ascended to join her father at the sound of her name. He had never seen her Highness before, and he was not prepared for what the sight of her did to him. She was beautiful, without a doubt, but that in itself was not what struck him. It was the type of beauty she exuded, in no way stereotypical – in no way, admittedly, a match to the idolized standard, especially for a princess – but completely proud, almost rebellious, and the way she carried herself was perhaps what mostly made her so attractive. Like her father, she had the sun in her skin – definitely a rebelliously disregarded taboo when a fair lady was a worshipped lady. Her features, though certainly not awkward and undeserving of the injustice ‘plain’, were not refined, not up to par with the sought-after idea of perfection. No – they had character. Her face was
interestingly
beautiful, absorbing to look at. Instead of timid and pixie-like, she had an intensity about her that drew you and held you, and Godren found himself enraptured. He was vaguely aware of the king presenting his daughter with a black pearl and diamond necklace as a birthday gift, and then he missed the rest of everything, all the following speeches he had come specifically to hear. They didn’t even go in one ear and out the other. They just went right by him completely.