was more than welcome.
“Did you hear everything?” Alyssa asked.
“Everything of worth. The old man is scared. He tries to be the rock in a storm, to survive by doing nothing until it passes.”
“Sometimes a sound strategy.”
Zusa smirked. “This storm will not pass, not without action. Not with his cowardly action. You know what Bertram wants. He wants you bedded and yoked to another man. Then your womanly passions may be safely ignored, and he can rule through your husband.”
“Bertram has no desire for power.”
Zusa lifted an eyebrow. “Can you know for sure? He is old, but not dead.”
Alyssa sighed and drained the rest of her glass.
“What should I do?” she asked. She felt tired, lost. She badly missed her son. She’d sent Nathaniel north to Felwood Castle, to foster with Lord Gandrem. At least there he was safe from the thief guilds, and the training he received would help him later in life.
“Bertram’s question…are there any you have taken a fancy to?” Zusa asked.
Alyssa shrugged.
“Mark Tullen was attractive, though his station is probably lower than Bertram would prefer. At least he was willing to talk to me instead of staring down my blouse. Also, that noble who runs our mines, Arthur something…”
“Hadfield,” Zusa said.
“That’s right. He’s pleasant enough, and not ugly…little distant, though. Guess that’s just a product of being older.”
“The older, the less likely to cavort with other women.”
“He’s more than welcome to,” Alyssa said. She stood and turned away, trying to voice a silent fear she’d held onto for years, a fear that had strangled her relationships and kept her unmarried. “But any child we have…that will become the Gemcroft heir. Too many will shove Nathaniel aside, deem him unfit, unworthy. I can’t do that to him, Zusa. I can’t deny him his right. He’s my firstborn.”
She felt Zusa’s arms slip around her. Startled by the uncommon display of emotion, she accepted the hug.
“If your son is strong, he will claim what is his, no matter what the world tries,” she said. “Do not be afraid.”
“Thank you,” Alyssa said, pulling back and smiling. “What would I do without you?”
“May we never find out,” Zusa said, bowing low.
Alyssa waved her off, then retreated to her private chambers. She stared out the thick glass window, beyond her mansion’s great walls, to the city of Veldaren. She found herself hating the city, hating every dark corner and crevice. Always it conspired against her, waiting with poison and dagger to…
No. She had to stop thinking like that. She had to stop letting the thief guilds control every aspect of her life through force and fear. So she sat at her desk, pulled out an inkwell and piece of parchment, and paused. She’d sent Nathaniel away to protect him, to be fostered with a good family. Not so long ago, her father had done the same, and she remembered her anger, her loneliness, and her feelings of betrayal. Once more she understood her father in a way she never had before. He really had hidden her because he loved her, not to get her out of the way like she once thought.
Still, how angry she’d been when she returned…
Her decision made, she dipped the quill in the ink and began writing.
My dear lord Tullen, she began. I have a request for you involving my son, Nathaniel…
2
Biggs kept watch at the door while the rest of the Hawk Guild cleared away the bodies.
“How many will be with him?” asked one as he wrapped one in its dark gray cloak.
“Depends,” said Biggs.
“On what?”
Biggs rolled his eyes. “On who is coming. If it’s Veliana, only a handful. If it’s Garrick, though…maybe twenty.”
The other thief’s face twitched at that. There were only ten of them weaving through the empty tables and quiet furnaces of the smith’s workplace.
“So what do we do if it’s him?”
Biggs turned, grabbed his shirt and yanked him close.
“I didn’t betray my guild and execute my friends so you can turn tail and run,” he said. His knife was in his hand, and he pressed it against the shaking thief’s belly. “We hide, and we kill. You know how to do that, right?”
Biggs shoved him away and turned back to the door. They still had ten minutes until the expected rendezvous, but it wouldn’t surprise him if either showed up early. He’d worked the deal himself, a supposed trade between the Hawks and the Ash involving a powder hallucinogen that many nobles had taken a fancy to. The money was absurd, by far the