Weapon of Blood (9 page)

“My brave warrior, shoveler of horse
poop.”

“That’s me.”

Lad watched his wife walk across the
courtyard.  He had long ago memorized everything about her—the sway of her
hips, the way the morning light touched her hair—and it still amazed him how
his heart leapt whenever he saw her.

Family
…

Though he never let Wiggen see, his own
fears often pressed at the fragile shell of his calm. 
They’re safer now
,
he told himself.  But still he feared for them.  He had more now than he ever
dreamed of, but that also meant he had more to lose.

Chapter
VI

Y
ou’re sure?”  Mya
lifted her cup and took her first sip of Paxal’s bracingly strong blackbrew. 
It woke her more effectively than a slap in the face, even though she’d already
been up for more than an hour.  She hadn’t gotten much sleep with the night’s
activities, but her magic kept exhaustion at bay.  She could go days without a
full night’s rest if need be.

“Positive, Miss Mya.  Dee didn’t leave
the inn all night.”  Paxal gave her a wry look.  “Seems he’s got a thing going
with that new Morrgrey barmaid, Moirin.  Moirin’s a talker, and Britty got an
earful this morning.  Evidently, Dee’s
quite
the lover.  I can tell you
exactly what she said if you—”

“No, Pax.  I believe you.  Thanks.”  She
put down her cup and wiped the dribble of blackbrew from her chin.  His comment
about Dee and Moirin had caught her off guard.  Of course she knew that people
had relationships, but it wasn’t something discussed amongst colleagues, at
least, not in her presence.  But skinny, pale Dee with curvy, olive-skinned
Moirin, a woman who made more in tips by flaunting her cleavage than she earned
as salary?  Mya tried to imagine the two of them together, then twitched her
head in quick negation.  It didn’t matter.  What people did with their own time
wasn’t her business.  “I’ll see you this evening.”

“Very good, Miss Mya.”  The barkeep
nodded and left the room.

Mya concentrated on her breakfast and
thanked the gods that Paxal had discovered only Dee’s little fling.  She liked
her assistant, and would hate to have to kill him.  She’d do it if she had to,
of course—quick and clean, just like last night—but she’d hate it all the same.

There was, however, the Grandmaster’s letter
to worry about.  She considered her reply.  “No, thank you,” didn’t seem
adequate to express her feelings, and, “You can take your guildmaster’s ring
and stick it up your arse,” might be too strong.  But she had time.  A
messenger to Tsing took two weeks in good weather, longer with the spring
rains.  He couldn’t expect a response before then.

Pushing that task to the back of her
mind, she sipped blackbrew and took another bite of fried potatoes. 
Horice
tried to kill me last night. 
That’s
what I’ve got that to deal with
today.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at
the door, and Dee walked into the room carrying his papers and writing
utensils.

“Good morning, Miss Mya.”

Though he seemed as calm and relaxed as
ever, Mya noted dark circles under his eyes and a slightly unsteady gait.  A
hint of flowery feminine perfume and a distinctive, musky odor wafted in with
the breeze of the closing door, corroborating Paxal’s report.  She cocked her
head, considering her assistant in a new light, until Lad’s words from the previous
evening—“Surely you’ve looked at men and thought…”—snapped her from her musing.

This is
Dee
, godsdamnit!  Stop thinking about him that way!

“Morning, Dee.”  Her cup rattled into the
saucer as he sat down and arranged the correspondence to sign.  “Late night? 
You look tired.”  She continued eating, but watched his face, wondering if he
knew that Moirin gossiped about him.

“No later than usual, Miss.  There were
only the five letters.”

Not a hint of evasion or unease. 
Either
he doesn’t know his own reputation, or he doesn’t know I know it.
  She
watched his long, graceful fingers arrange the letters, inkwell and pen for
her, and imagined them against Moirin’s olive skin. 
Focus, Mya!

She speared her last bite of sausage,
mopped up the dregs of egg with it and popped it into her mouth.  She chased
the last bite down with a sip of blackbrew and said, “Good.  Let’s get started
then.”

He slid the first letter across the table
to her.  “This is to Journeyman Keese.”

Mya breathed in the flowery scent. 
Got
to be Moirin’s
.  She took up the pen and signed the letter.

“Next we’ve got the one for the master of
the Teamsters Guild.”

“Riley O’Lance.  Right.”  She read the
letter, noting his elegant hand and the cordial embellishments he’d added. 
“Perfect.  Very good, Dee.”  She signed it and passed it back.

“Thank you.”  He gave her the next.  “And
the issue with the missing dues from the Westmarket brothels.”

“Yes.”  This one was much more strongly
worded, the hand firmer, the language plain and straightforward.  “Excellent.” 
She signed.

“And the moneylender on Serpent Avenue.” 
He took the signed letter and handed her the next.

“Of course.”  She read, and tapped the
text with a finger.  “This phrase here, Dee.  Do you think it sounds too soft?”

He stood and rounded the table, leaning
over her shoulder to look at the phrase in question.

His proximity set Mya’s nerves tingling,
as if her tattoos writhed along her skin.  She shifted in her chair, suddenly
uncomfortable.

“I think it’s adequate.  Anything
stronger might be misconstrued, and the Moneylenders Guild has strong
connections with the Thieves Guild.”

“Right you are.”  She breathed deep, and
the tingling along her nerves coalesced into a warm quiver in the pit of her
stomach. 
Oh, stop it, Mya!
  She signed the letter.  “And the last one?”

“Here.”  He leaned across the table and
grabbed the final letter, the one to Jayse.  “The issue with that gang in the
Sprawls bothering our friend.”

“Right.”  She barely glanced at the
letter before signing it.  “Very good, Dee.  Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Miss Mya.”  He stepped back
around the table and collected his things.  “Anything else this morning?”

Best deal with this now
.  “Nothing to do with business, but I’d like to
suggest something.”

“Yes?”  He stood there, attentive and
open.

Mya gave him a canted smile.  “Ask Moirin
to wear a little less perfume when she visits you, and freshen up a bit before
you bring the letters in.”

“I…”  His face flushed crimson.  “I will,
Miss Mya.  My apologies.”

A thrill of satisfaction banished the
distracting tingles from her stomach.  “Don’t apologize, Dee.”  She stood and
tugged her shirt straight.  “No harm in taking what pleasure life offers you. 
Gods know it’s a rare commodity in our business.  But be careful. 
Relationships can be dangerous for people like us.”

“I will be.  Thank you, Miss Mya.”  He
turned to go.

“And get some sleep.”

“I will.”

“Alone.”

He blushed again, but could not suppress
a grin.  “Yes, Miss Mya.”

The door closed, and she sat back down to
pour herself one more cup of blackbrew.  She worked the taut muscles of her
neck and sighed.  Lad would be there shortly, and they had a full day planned. 
She thought about Dee, happy for him, and glad that she hadn’t needed to put a
dagger in his skull.  Her thoughtful smile faded, however, as she remembered
her last instruction.

“Alone…”

“Good morning, sir.”

Hensen’s eyes flicked up from the
steaming scone he was buttering as his assistant entered the morning room.  The
morning sunshine lit up the woman’s flaxen hair and porcelain features. 
A
rare beauty
, he thought before returning his attention to the scone.  Her
skills were as impressive as her beauty, of course, but Hensen loved to
surround himself with pretty things.  The elegant décor of his home, lavish
furnishings, immaculate clothes, and beautiful assistant reflected that.  As
the head of the Thieves Guild, he could afford to indulge himself.

“Good morning, Kiesha.”  He scooped a
lump of marmalade from a tiny crystal bowl with a silver spoon and spread it on
his scone.  “What news this morning?”

“A visit from Sereth last night, sir. 
More stirring in the Assassins Guild.”

That perked his interest.  They had
worked long and hard to pressure the Master Blade’s bodyguard into becoming
their informant, and it had paid off handsomely.  Hensen knew what the Blade
faction would do before they did it, and received indirect news about the other
masters’ activities as well.  Of all the fingers the Thieves Guild had stuck in
pies throughout the city, Sereth was, by far, his most valuable spy at the
moment.

“More infighting?”  He took a bite of
scone, chased it with a sip of tea, and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a
gold-embroidered napkin.

“Yes, sir.  Two deaths last night.”  She
placed a single page at his elbow, her elegant, precise handwriting a pleasure
to his eyes.  “Youtrin and Horice teamed up to try to kill Master Hunter Mya. 
They failed.”

“Blades and Enforcers teaming up against
Hunters, hmm?”  He bit into the scone, savoring the flavors.  “Did Sereth say
why?”

“Yes.  Mya is ignoring the others,
blocking their initiatives and refusing to come to meetings.  She’s been doing
it for a while, but the situation seems to have reached a head.  Youtrin and
Horice are taking it personally.”

“Temper, temper.”  He read the detailed
report as he finished his scone.  “Let that be a lesson to you, my dear.  Never
let emotion cloud your judgment.”

“I never do, sir.”

“Good.  Now, what else?

She placed another report beside his
plate.  “The Assassins Guild masters, minus Master Hunter Mya, of course, met
last night and moved to choose a new guildmaster.  They voted to have a new
guildmaster’s ring forged, and they’re doing it
without
informing Mya.”

“Wait!  I thought they were trying to
kill
Mya.”

“Only Youtrin and Horice, sir, at the
moment, at least.”  She shrugged.  “Their decision holds whether or not she
survived the attempt.  The details are in the report.”

“Interesting.”  Hensen thought for a
moment about the potential repercussions of this move.  The infighting between
the Assassins Guild factions had been good for the Thieves Guild, which had
exploited the disorganization to advance its own interests throughout the
city.  A new Assassins Guild guildmaster would be bad for business.  “Have they
chosen someone yet?”