The Death of Dulgath (24 page)

“What does the daughter of an earl know about elves?”

“I read a lot,” she said, then broke their contest and laughed.

She swirled, making the gown fan, and threw her head back. Gwen’s girls did that, too. Maybe Nysa was bad at it, or Royce was wrong about her intent, for the act was uncharacteristically awkward and filled with frustration and annoyance. In that instant, her guard dipped, and for the first time he felt he saw Nysa Dulgath, the woman behind the mask. The lady hadn’t planned it, but that slip succeeded where her previous efforts had failed. The truth was indeed hard to ignore. Royce decided he liked Nysa Dulgath, or at least he didn’t dislike her. She certainly was interesting.

She took a step toward him.

“Time for me to go.” Royce spun and threw his legs back out the window. “Don’t forget about the ivy. You need to get rid of it.”

“But I like ivy.”

“It can grow back.”

“And you? How will you visit me again if I tear it down?”

“I won’t. Goodbye, Lady Dulgath.”

Chapter Thirteen
Fawkes and Hounds

The trip back down the mountain was faster, as downhill trips always are. Even so, it was night when Hadrian and Scarlett Dodge reached the section of the trail where the pitch flattened to a mere slope and broadened wide enough for side-by-side travel. The moon was three-quarters full and cast a spray of silver pools where it penetrated the leaves. The light ran up and over their bodies as they waded through moonbeam puddles, and Hadrian kept stealing glances at Scarlett. At first he thought he was getting away with it. Still acting as a guide, Scarlett was focused on the trail ahead, but when he spotted her smile, he knew she’d caught him. He also knew she didn’t mind.

“So how did you end up in Dulgath—in Brecken Dale?” Hadrian asked.

“What do you care?” Her tone was both curt and cold.

Hadrian was surprised, then realized he shouldn’t have been. Royce had all but placed a knife to her throat. “Look, we got started wrong. You poisoned me, and Royce threatened to kill you—fact is, we’re not who you thought we were, and I have no idea who you are.”

“Probably best that way, don’t you think?”

“No—I don’t think that at all.”

She looked at him just as moonlight splashed her face. She had that puzzled squint he already recognized as one of her go-to expressions—at least the ones she used with him.

“But I’ll tell you what I do think. I think it’s easy to distrust someone you don’t know. If you’re ignorant of their past, you can’t understand their motivations, so you jump to conclusions, which are usually wrong. For example, I’m a really nice guy, but you probably hold a different opinion of me.”

“Yep—I think you’re an idiot.”

He smiled. “That’s just because you don’t know me. Once you do, you’ll discover I’m really only an imbecile.”

This made her laugh. He could tell she didn’t want to, and her frustration made the sound even sweeter.

“See, you can’t resist me. I’m like a dog that drops a ball at your feet.”

“Hadrian,” she said with a weary tone and a shake of her head. “I get it. You’re attracted to me. You’re trying to start something here—make me like you—but you’re only going to be around for a few days, and Wagner and I—we’re sort of a thing.”

“Wagner? The bartender? That old guy?”

“He
owns
Caldwell House, and he’s nice.”

Hadrian nodded slowly with a pushed-out lower lip.

“What?”

“Just seems a little old, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, most men worth something are. Boys tend to be lazy or have an overabundance of dreams; they’re always looking but never finding because they haven’t a clue what they really want.” She glared directly at him as she spoke. “Men like Wagner are past the stargazer stage. He understands the way the world is and makes the best of it.”

“Ah-huh.” Hadrian kept his eyes forward this time but felt her looking at him again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Wagner’s been good to me.”

“Didn’t say he wasn’t. Probably a great guy…when he’s not poisoning people.”

“I did that—and I didn’t poison you. I drugged you. If I’d used poison, you’d be dead.”

Hadrian nodded, giving in again. He shifted his short sword’s belt just off the hip, where it rubbed him. The hand-and-a-half sword always hung low, but he wore the short sword higher when he rode to keep it clear of his thigh. “You know, I wasn’t asking for your hand in marriage. I was just curious about how a woman from Colnora ended up here. Seemed a bit strange to me, that’s all.”

They continued on in silence. The two split, going separate ways around a hawthorn tree that Hadrian was surprised he remembered from the trip up. Same thing had happened with a boulder earlier.
Why is it I remember some things but not others? Why the tree and the boulder, but not that fallen log or that curve?

This was the sort of internal conversation he often expressed verbally with Royce, the kind that drove his partner nuts. But it wasn’t polite to travel with someone and not acknowledge them, so a little pointless conversation seemed reasonable. Rather than be irritated by the silence, Hadrian chose to—

“I ran into some trouble in Colnora,” Scarlett said.

Hadrian didn’t dare look over. He didn’t show any sign that he knew she was there.

“Royce was telling the truth about me being in the Black Diamond.” She paused.

Hadrian didn’t respond, didn’t want to sidetrack her into a discussion about Royce.

After a moment, she went on. “I grew up a farmer’s daughter and ran away to the big city because I had talent and wanted to act in the theater there. I was only fourteen—didn’t know women weren’t allowed to be actors. They laughed at me, told me to go home. I couldn’t do that. I’d watched my mother kill herself in silent misery. She’d cried herself to sleep at night. I wouldn’t do that—wouldn’t
be
that.

“I danced and sang on street corners for money. People liked me and dropped coppers in my hat. I thought I’d found a future, and I was so happy. Didn’t know about the Minstrel Guild and how ruthless people could be. Like I said, I was only fourteen.”

Hadrian risked a glance and discovered Scarlett wasn’t looking at him. Her sight was fixed on the shadows, a hard, pained expression on her face. “I was just a stupid little girl,” she said with a sneer of contempt, as if seeing herself and hating what she saw.

“The guild didn’t care that I was young and naïve. All they cared about was me cutting into their profits. Beat me bloody and split my lip. My eyes were so swollen I couldn’t see out of them for days. My left arm was broken, as well as the third finger on this hand.” She held it up as if she were showing off a ring. “Still a little crooked.” She grimaced and made a fist with that hand. “But that was all they did—could have been worse. If the Black Diamond found you cutting in on their territory, you’d be dead, not just broken, beaten, and left vomiting in a ditch. You see, the members of the Minstrel Guild pride themselves on being professional men, not predators and thugs. This was business, not pleasure. Nearly killing a stupid girl was just part of their job.

“Don’t know what I would’ve done after that if it hadn’t been for Chase. I wouldn’t have gone home, so I probably woulda died, I guess.”

“Who’s Chase?”

“Chase
was
an entertainer—a magician and actor.”

“Was he one of the men who—was he part of the guild?”

“No—which at the time surprised me, too, because Chase put on shows wherever he liked in the city. No one ever bothered him. Turned out they didn’t dare. He was part of a different guild—the Black Diamond.” She looked at him with a bitter smile Hadrian didn’t understand. “His shows drew in crowds, big crowds. Everyone was fascinated and intent on watching his hands to see how he did the magic. Meanwhile sweepers—pickpockets—worked their own magic.
Misdirection is the key,
he’d always said. He pulled me out of that ditch and cleaned me up. Gave me food and a place to sleep. Had me sing and dance at his shows and taught me how to pick pockets and do magic. To him they were the same thing. He added me to his act and renamed me Dodge—Scarlett Dodge, the red-haired enchantress. He also sponsored my membership to the Diamond. Chase was a good man. Saved my life.”

“Was?”

“They killed him—Malachite and Jasper. This was five years ago. Hoyte was running things in the Diamond and fortifying his position as First Officer—which is sort of like a duke, the second most powerful member short of the Jewel himself, who’s essentially the king. And like any good duke, he was preoccupied with weeding out those not loyal to him. Most of us in the bottom ranks hated Hoyte. Chase was no different. He threw his loyalty to a new guy, a bucketman and rising star in the guild, who looked like he could replace Hoyte, but then everything changed.

“Hoyte cleaned house. The rising star went to Manzant, and Chase and a lot of others were found floating facedown in the Bernum River. I didn’t want to be next, so I ran. Went south.

“In Ratibor, I joined, of all things, a traveling minstrel show. I performed magic, and we fleeced our audiences just like in Colnora. Kept moving to avoid problems. In Swanwick, trouble caught us. I was arrested. Kept my hands because they had decided to send me to Manzant Prison. The salt mine always needs workers, and workers need hands. On the road south, I pulled one more magic act and got my chains off. Chase taught me that, too. One more way in which he saved my life. I ran west into the mountains.”

She slowed, then stopped. Scarlett stared at the shadowy path and then back at the black of the forest. “People here say a spirit haunts these woods and has protected the people in this valley for centuries.”

“Augustine’s reformed demon?”

“I guess.” She seemed embarrassed. “I’m not saying I believe everything, but everyone believes something. They insist in the existence of the gods, or demons, or tree spirits, or they believe that such things don’t exist. One person might profess that people are basically good, while another might think the opposite. But everyone believes in something, you know? And what we choose to believe in says a lot—not only about the kind of people we are, but about the kind of people we want to be, and the kind of world we want to live in.”

“Augustine tell you that?”

She stopped and gave him an angry face. “What? You think a reformed thief can’t conceive of such things? Or do you think a woman couldn’t
possibly
ponder such ideas?”

She was opening up to him, saying things he imagined she didn’t say to many people. Maybe she thought he would understand, that he might feel the same—and he did—but instead of agreeing, he’d accused her of being stupid. “Sorry,” he said, and meant it.

“You should be.”

“I am.”

The scowl on her face lost its strength and slowly drained away as they walked.

Hadrian waited. He didn’t dare say another word until she did.

“Anyway,” she said, finally breaking the silence and erasing the slate of past awkwardness with a word, “I honestly feel that something guided me here.”

“Here, here? Up this trail?”

She nodded. “I stumbled on this path and followed it to the monastery. It really was as if Maribor—or something—led me.”

“And Abbot Augustine took you in.”

“Like Chase before him, he saved me. Didn’t rebuke, judge, or ask questions. He just told me I needed to change my life, as if he knew everything. He introduced me to the people of the dale, who, with his endorsement, welcomed me as one of their own.”

She began walking again, moving faster and lighter, as if a weight had been lifted.

“And now?”

She gave a carefree roll of her shoulders. “I dance. I sing. I do magic tricks. Three times a week I entertain people at Caldwell House. The rest of the time, I try to master the spinning wheel or make clay pots. Haven’t succeeded at a single pot, but I’m better at it than spinning wool. Spinning is a torment. I’m also trying to learn to bake.”

Hadrian could hear the river and see the moon reflecting off its face when Scarlett asked, “What about you? How’d you learn to fight like that? How’d you end up with Royce? That has to be a tale.”

“I grew up in the military, you could say, and then I became a mercenary for several years in Calis. How I ended up with Royce is indeed a tale—a long one.” He pointed to the bridge that led to the dale and the end of their trip, then grinned.

“Not fair.”

“I have an appointment with Royce tonight, but if you’re really interested, you could invite me to dinner tomorrow.”

She smirked. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

“Just a dog with a ball.”