Page 7

She clung to his arm, trying to snatch the pouch from him, laughing with him as she pried open his fingers one by one.

"But Your Grace! You behave like a little streetwalker! You laid your hands on me. Outrageous! "

"Let me have a look already!" she said when he finally allowed her to take the pouch. She unfastened it quickly, then opened her eyes wide. A necklace: a gold chain and a small pendant in the shape of a book. It was made of finely crafted wood, gold and leather.

"Oh Roben, it's beautiful!"

He shrugged. "Glad it pleases you, Your Excellency."

"You can stop worshiping me now." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Roben on the cheek. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he replied, looking around as if searching for something. He did that when he was stalling. When he couldn't find the words.

Uneasily, Shadi suddenly put her hand on his arm.

"What's going on?"

Roben scratched his chin and pressed his lips into a thin line. "Perhaps none of my business. Or maybe I should pry. I honestly don't know what to do."

"But you're worried. About me? Do you know something I don't? Did something bad happen on your hunting trip? Why did you come back so early?"

Roben raised his hands to defend himself against the avalanche of questions.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. We just decided to come back to avoid the first snowstorms. You know those are always the worst." He hesitated, then let out a heavy sigh. "Your friend is here. Norain."

Shadi frowned. "Yes. She arrived last night with her parents. Did you meet them?"

"In a way."

"What does that mean?"

Roben spread his arms wide, defeated. "I don't know. I'm not sure. I mean, I know I saw her, but I don't know what it really means."

Shadi reached for his neck in desperation, hissing like a snake.

He shrugged her off with a chuckle. "All right, all right. I just saw Norain in town. Between the stalls of the wine sellers. There was music and she was dancing with a man I didn't recognize. But he didn't seem to be the kind of companion her parents would approve of."

For Shadi, it was like a slap in the face. "Are you sure?"

"I would say so."

"And you just left her there? Like it was nothing?"

Roben looked away. Despite always displaying confidence he still managed to blush. He was able to effortlessly attract the gaze of anyone, and gain the sympathy of even strangers. Yet he could still feel shame. "As a matter of fact, yes. I did."

"And why is that?" she asked in a rush, her voice higher and shriller.

"Oh, don't be naive, little sister. I didn't say anything for the same reason you have my back when I get too lonely." He again smiled at her as he did when trying to avoid the most dangerous topics. The ones that had to do with her nighttime adventures on the roofs of the fortress.

Shadi grabbed his hand and squeezed it fiercely, sinking her nails into his palm. Roben groaned in surprise and tried to pull away, but she held on with all her strength. She knew he could easily push her off, but she also knew he'd never lift a finger against her.

But Shadi wanted him to know how angry he had made her.

"You and Norain could not be more different, big brother," she said, lowering her voice. She tried to keep her tone cold. Like that of the woman who had given birth to them. "As far as we know, she has never even touched a man in her life and has surrounded herself only with nobles. People of the highest stature. Of incorruptible morality. We certainly don't want her reputation to go down the drain tonight, do we?" she asked, squeezing his hand until she herself felt pain. "Especially not here, while she is a guest of our family."

"Maybe she just wants to dance a little," Roben remarked as he effortlessly freed himself, like swatting away a fly. Of the two children, he had inherited his mother's height and graceful form, coupled with his father's strength. In contrast, Shadi appeared petite like her grandmother.

"I don't care what she wants. I'm afraid of what she might do without knowing it. Or what they could force her to do. Besides, you are a man, Roben. Here in Jabal Amira, women are expected to respect certain customs. You know that." She pointed a finger at him. "If that weren't the case, you wouldn't have to sneak out in the middle of the night to meet your girls. They'd visit you without fear or shame. But it doesn't work that way. We must be careful. Maybe it's different in Larsa or Napur, but not here. If Norain does something foolish and her people find out, we'll be in big trouble." Shadi clasped her hands over her stomach, out of breath.

Roben raised his hands. "Easy, easy. Slow down. I left her there, yes. But I asked Darjin to watch her."

Shadi looked at him as if he had insulted her.

"You sent my bodyguard to keep an eye on Norain?"

"It seemed the best choice. Darjin knows how to go unnoticed and is more than capable of keeping Norain safe."

It made sense. Perhaps Roben hoped Norain wouldn't embarrass herself and that her late night escapade went unnoticed. If he had intervened, he might have attracted even more attention.

"I don't like this at all." Shadi exhaled and put a hand to her temple. The first symptoms of a monumental headache began to appear.

"Believe it or not, I feel the same way," Roben said.

"Then help me."

Roben groaned softly. "What does that mean?"

"That you and I will find Norain and bring her back to the luxurious guest quarters we have prepared for her. As discreetly as possible."

He hunched his shoulders in defeat.

"You knew it would end like this the moment you decided to tell me, big brother." She patted his cheek. "Now get out. Give me time to get dressed."

Shadi's breath thickened in the cold air as she retraced the path she had taken with Norain that morning. The chill stung her cheeks, but she kept a brisk pace beside Roben, who walked with one hand on the hilt of his sword. He must have been as nervous as she was, maybe more so, but he tried hard not to show it.

Shadi, for her part, broke into a cold sweat beneath the woolen tunic and breeches she so rarely wore. The heavy wool coat was a shield against the icy wind, but it also made her feel oppressed. How Roben could wear such clothes for weeks on end while traveling remained a mystery to her.

Soon the sounds of the stalls echoed through the walls: voices, laughter, the cries of the animals on display. And then, finally, music.

"Stay by my side. Cover your face as much as you can with the hood and keep your eyes down," Roben urged her, quickening his pace.

Shadi had told him about the conversation between Norain and the seed seller. Roben could not tell if he was one of the men he had seen with the girl, but the chances were high.

As they walked through the crowd, Shadi's chest tightened with every step. She silently prayed that they would find her friend before anything serious happened. It dawned on her that she had no idea what she could say to persuade Norain to return to her quarters. She didn't want her friend to feel judged or for the situation to strain their relationship. Either way, it would be an awkward conversation.

They passed the small square where the seed vendor had set up his now-empty stall and followed the music. After another alley and several turns, they found themselves at the edge of a larger square where a crowd was dancing around a very impressive bonfire.

Shadi watched the people, looking for Norain.

She gasped as she heard the voice behind her.

"My lady. My lord," Darjin said as she emerged from a pile of wine crates and barrels stacked behind other booths.

The Dagger made a short bow, followed by a nod to follow her.

Shadi and Roben did not ask twice and followed her to the cover behind a pillar.

"The young lady has shown an amazing ability to stay on her feet. Despite the rivers of wine she has downed, I mean," Darjin said without hesitation. "But I don't think she can last much longer. Besides, she has decided to choose fellow adventurers who do not seem to care about her good name. If they even know it."

"Did you recognize them? Who are they?" asked Roben.

"A spice and seed merchant seems to be our lady's favorite. But she was dancing with three other men. A groom and a baker's boy. But those two don't bother me much."

"The third?" urged Shadi.

"Torro. One of the soldiers in your family's service. Apparently he was the one who escorted the young lady out of her quarters tonight."

"Torro?" Shadi's voice had shrunk to a gasp. "He and Breni were our escorts this morning." She fell silent, thinking back to the way the young soldier had looked at Norain; perhaps he had convinced himself that helping her sneak out would get him something. "In truth, I shouldn't be surprised."

"Torro will come to terms with our father later," Roben cut her off. "We must put an end to this charade, Darjin. Before things get out of hand. If Norain and her companions are drunk, anything can happen. You stay at the edge of the crowd while I talk to our friend."

Shouts made them gasp.

Shadi looked at Darjin, then at Roben.

Too late.

They came out of hiding and hurried toward the crowd. The melee spread through the throng like flames in a wheat field under the summer sun.

Shadi caught a glimpse of Norain. "There she is," she shouted, seeing Roben sprinting toward the girl struggling in the vendor's arms.

"Let go of me! I said let go of me!" Norain screamed.

Even from this distance, and amidst all the confusion of the struggle, Shadi could sense how dazed Norain was from the wine. She staggered as if she had just learned to walk.

The next moments flashed before Shadi's eyes, incredibly fast and extremely slow at the same time.

She saw Roben land a powerful punch on one of the merchant's cheeks, then parry a kick from a nearby man and strike his throat with the cut of his other hand. He moved like an avalanche through a pile of pebbles, pulling Norain out of the crowd and grabbing her by the wrist.

He dragged her away.

Stunned by Roben's grip, Norain opened her eyes wide with an expression that was both exhilarated and angry.

"Where have you been, Roben? You just picked the worst time to show your pretty face," she giggled.

Roben did not answer her.

Shadi watched in horror as her brother gritted his teeth and bent over. By the time she realized that someone had struck him from behind, Darjin was already pushing her away.

"Move away, my lady."

"Roben! Darjin, what have they done to him?"

"Step back! Let me do my work. Behind the pillar, now!"

Shadi found herself trembling. She nodded, backed away with cold wrists and weak knees, then went to hide where Darjin had ordered. But she could not help leaning out to look. The party had become a nightmare. The dancers, now all drunk, were beating each other as if each had suffered the worst affront ever.

Roben was on his knees, holding his side.

Norain leaned against him. She seemed to find the whole thing extremely amusing and would not stop laughing and looking up at the sky.

Darjin moved through the crowd like black lightning. Every time Shadi managed to catch a glimpse of her, someone would suddenly fall to the ground.

The Dagger stood in front of Norain and put a hand on her shoulder. The girl howled like a whipped dog and clung to Darjin's hand. Then she nodded, her eyes wide with fear.

Together, Darjin and Norain pulled Roben up and dragged him away from the crowd. When they reached Shadi, he was hissing with rage and pain. A dark spot of blood spread down his side.

Norain started to laugh again.

"Hold your brother, my lady. And get away from here. I am not finished yet. I will join you soon," Darjin told her.

Shadi nodded, trembling, and tried to take Roben's arm. "Who did this to you?"

He shook his head and clenched his jaw. "Let's go."

Norain laughed again. "It was just a party! Just a party!"

Shadi stood in front of her and gave her a hard slap, so hard that pain shot through some of her fingers.

The girl fell heavily to the ground, holding her flushed cheek with one hand.

"Oh Shadi, if you only knew. If you only knew how we are fading away," she said with empty eyes. "We are nothing. Foolish and worthless."

Tears welled in Shadi's eyes and her chest burned with rage. She swayed but refused to give in, approaching Norain and grabbing her. "Stand up. I said stand up!" When the girl was back on her feet, Shadi pointed her finger at her chest. "When my brother bleeds out in the street, I will personally see to it that you truly fade away, my friend. Forever. Now get it together and help me."

Darjin walked briskly to the edge of the battle. She easily dodged stumbling and falling people, randomly thrown punches, and puddles of wine and blood.

In her years of service to the Jan Hura family, nothing like this had ever happened. Jabal Amira was an extraordinarily wealthy city, despite being so high in the mountains, but it remained small compared to the others that revolved around the three cradles of the Masters. In a place like that, populated by people who all knew each other pretty well, outbreaks of violence became rare.

Leoben Jan Hura will not be pleased when informed of this. Not even a little bit.

Darjin kept her eyes on a tall, slender figure, a man whose upright, confident posture set him apart from the drunken crowd. He seemed unconcerned about being hit by accident.

Earlier, when Roben had asked her to keep an eye on Norain, Darjin had recognized him immediately. It was disappointing to see him ignoring oaths and promises, putting honor aside for reasons she couldn't understand.

Why risk so much?

She was ready to find out the truth, even if it meant tearing the words from his mouth with red-hot pliers.

The man emerged from the crowd and slipped into an alley.

Darjin pulled up the hood of the short cloak she was wearing and looked at the buildings that dotted the area. Most of them were several stories high. Made of well polished stone and thick, dark wood, they were easy to climb. She counted to three, then sprinted to the building in front of her and jumped. She clung to a ledge of a pillar, then to the edge of a balcony, to the stone parapet, and up, up, up to the roof.

Silent as a cat, Darjin ran to the ledge and glanced down. For a few moments, she feared she had miscalculated her timing and lost sight of her target.

But then she saw the silhouette slip under an archway on the other side of the alley and heard the patter of boots on a narrow staircase.

Darjin stopped. The stairs climbed between two buildings—one with three floors and the other stopping at the second. To avoid losing the man, she needed to watch his movements more closely. She moved away from the edge by climbing up the roof, which rose quite steeply toward the center, then turned toward the street. The distance was not intimidating, but that side of the roof was covered with tiles, slippery from moisture and frost. Time was of the essence. She sprinted to the edge, bent her knees and took a leap.

She landed on the roof of the lower building, congratulated herself on being able to move almost completely in silence, and then lay down on the pitched roof. She leaned her head against the tiles and listened.

The man was right down there, opening a door at that very moment. Before he could close it, Darjin let herself fall. She kicked his shoulders with her feet and brought him down.

The man moaned in surprise and pain as she sank her knees into his kidneys and grabbed his hair. She pulled hard, then slammed his face into the floor.

The sound of broken cartilage. A shattered nose.

"Weep in silence, Torro. If you scream, you'll never know who took you down."

Torro was smart enough to listen to her and remained silent, but he resisted when she turned him over.

A few well-aimed kicks silenced his urge to fight back. Eyes wide, he pulled himself up on his elbows and watched her as if he were at the feet of a ghost of the night.

"Dagger!" he muttered, spitting blood that seeped from his swollen nostrils and smeared his mouth.

"Shut up." Darjin moved slowly forward and knelt before him. The slightly tilted sash of a window at her side created an oblique beam of light that illuminated the blade she held.

"I will ask you one question. Just one. I want you to consider your answer carefully. Lie and you will die."

The man nodded.

"Why did you stab Roben Jan Hura?"

The silence between them grew heavy.

"Don't force me to repeat myself."

He coughed and grunted in exasperation. "I don't know. I don't know. I was drunk!"

Darjin kneed him in the groin, then stifled his scream by jumping on top of him. One punch to the stomach, one to the cheek. She sat on the man's chest and held the dagger to his throat.

"I am a woman of my word, Torro."

"Wait! Wait!" he hissed and began to cry.

"You should have seen the way she looked at me! That girl! It's her fault! She's been devouring me with her eyes all day," he said, speaking quickly, chewing whole syllables and spitting out more blood.

"She told me she wanted to dance. That we were going to have fun! And then she threw herself at that no-good seed seller! She may be the daughter of a Lugalen, but what right did she have to treat me like that? I lost my mind. When Jan Hura dragged her away..." he hesitated, shaking his head as if to rid himself of pain and fear. Maybe also to keep the shame at bay. "I didn't mean to, it was the wine. The wine, I swear!"

Darjin stifled a gag.

Torro reeked of smoke, wine, and maybe even intoxicating powder. Darjin was sure it was a mixture strong enough to make anyone lose their mind. But the idea that a well-paid and respected soldier like him was foolish enough to abandon his loyalty for such a frivolous reason made no sense. No sense at all. She stared into his eyes, which were swollen and bloodshot even in the dim light, and not just from the severe beating she had given him.

"Norain Asadi was foolish, no doubt. She was probably unfair to you, I'll give you that. But you swore allegiance to the Jan Hura family, and tonight you broke your promise in a thousand different ways."

Torro sobbed, "I know." He looked away and wept like a child, his chest heaving with great, trembling sobs.

"I, too, swore allegiance to Leoben, Tiona, Roben, and Shadi. I live to see that they are always safe. I have failed. And I don't believe you. You are only telling me part of the truth." She suddenly pressed a knee to his neck and hissed. "This is your last chance to be honest, Torro. As far as I am concerned, there is only one way to erase the stain you have placed on my reputation and that of the Jan Hura family."

"No! No! Please! I will disappear. You will never see me again. No one will ever see me again, I swear. I will leave town tonight. I don't want to die, Dagger, I'm not twenty yet," he begged her. Each word was a low, hoarse moan. Tears mixed with blood.

Darjin pressed the blade until it made a very thin, shallow mark in his skin.

"Do I have to push the blade? I just have to press a little harder."

He coughed, cried again, and was on the verge of vomiting.

Darjin eased the pressure, moved away from the man's chest, but kept the dagger pointed at his throat. Finally he spoke.

"Last night, a merchant sold me something. Flower petals."

"What merchant?"

"Tall. Thin. Light skin. Maybe he's from over the Peaks. I don't know who he is, I've never seen him before. Today I looked for him all over the citadel, but he vanished into thin air. And none of my comrades know what happened to him."

Darjin held her breath. The conversation was getting bloody uncomfortable. For once, she wished she had been wrong. If Torro had acted solely for gain from Norain, things would have been easier. Still unpleasant, but easier.

"Tell me about these petals. What are they for? What happened?"

"I'm not sure. The merchant said it only took a few petals to see the stars. To feel good." Torro's voice lowered, heavy with shame.

"Was that the first time you gave in to vice?" There was no judgment in the question. Darjin was well aware that many soldiers spiked their wine with exotic powders and powerful spices that could induce elation, lust, or just plain sleep. But these practices weakened the men in the pay of influential families. If they wanted to continue working, they had to be careful.

"I felt good at first. I ate with my friends, celebrated, drank. But that's all I remember. I have a black hole in my mind. Today I woke up late and confused. I looked for that merchant because I was scared to death, trying to understand what he had done to me and where those damn petals came from. But nothing, he is gone." Torro hesitated. He sat up, crossed his legs, and sank his face into his hands.

"I heard a voice in my head tonight. It told me to take what I want. To act, act, act. So when the girl opened the door while I was standing guard in her quarters and told me she wanted out, I agreed. I didn't think twice. I felt different, invincible. As if I could reach out and grab the moon itself."

Darjin listened to him in silence.

Petals. Where did they come from? And why had she never heard of such a drug before?

"Do you have any more?"

"I swallowed them all."

"How many?"

"Three."

"And you don't remember what happened after you took them."

Torro shook his head.

"Get up. Let's go see Sperian."

"He'll cut my throat. The man is heartless," he sobbed.

Darjin stood up and looked down at him. "Get up! Don't provoke me or I'll finish the job myself, right here, right now." She stared into his eyes and saw only a confused young man, trembling with fear and humiliation.

"I'll talk to Sperian. He is one of the best brigade commanders that ever worked for Jan Hura. No one will be harmed before he has heard what you have to say."

Darjin continued to watch Torro and considered eliminating him immediately. But the story he had told her was disturbing. It could have been the ramblings of a drunkard, or the excuses of a horny and careless soldier.

Or perhaps there was more to it.

Perhaps Torro's actions concealed a greater threat to the Jan Hura family.

She knew everyone, didn't she? Every soldier who entered the citadel, every merchant who displayed his wares there, every servant who polished the furniture in Shadi's rooms.

If even one of them had dared to plan harm against Leoben Tiona, Roben or Shadi, she should have known, right? Her heart darkened with the realization that she might have been wrong, underestimating a threat that almost ended in tragedy.

She should have done better. One more failure like this and her word would be as worthless as the sand of the Crimson Desert. But she could not face this situation alone, even if she preferred to work in the shadows.

"You will not die tonight, Torro. Answer Sperian's questions truthfully and perhaps you will be shown mercy."

He shook his head. His swollen face and bloodshot eyes were now a mask of despair. "It is not my fault. I was not myself, I swear."

Darjin didn't answer. Silently, she helped him to his feet and then dragged him outside.