Foundryside (The Founders Trilogy #1) - Robert Jackson Bennett Page 0,150

hands. One on her knee, slowly slipping to the inside of her thigh and sliding up to her crotch. The other gripped her wrist, his fingers biting into her flesh and bone. “One hand gentle,” he whispered to her. “And one hand firm. That’s the wisdom of kings—yes?”

Sancia raged in disgust against the invisible bonds on her mind.

“I know you had the key,” said Tomas Ziani quietly. He kept massaging her thigh, kept throttling her wrist. “You opened the box you stole, you looked inside. You took the key, and used it to evade me. I’m sure you sent it over the balcony before we caught up to you…My question now is—where did it go?”

She felt cold as she listened to this. He’d known about everything—but at least he didn’t know where Clef was.

“I’m going to bring you back up,” whispered Tomas in her ear, his breath hot on her cheek. He released her wrist, and patted her thigh. “Try and bite me again, and I’ll enjoy myself with you. All right?”

There was a pause, and she slowly felt her will return to her. Tomas looked at her with cold, hungry eyes. “Well?” he asked.

She considered what to do. It was clear that Tomas was the sort of person who’d delight in killing her, just as a boy might torture a mouse. But she didn’t want to give away much of what she knew. Hopefully Gregor had gotten Clef off the campo—which meant maybe he also got to Orso, and they might be planning some kind of rescue. Maybe.

But how did Tomas know she was scrived? How could the imperiat detect the plate in her head? And worse—how had he known she was going to be in Tribuno’s office? Had the imperiat detected her? Or had they been betrayed?

“The air-sailing rig went back to the Dandolo campo,” said Sancia.

“Wrong,” said Tomas. “We know it touched down in the Candiano campo.”

“Then something went wrong. It wasn’t supposed to. It doesn’t matter anyway. Ofelia Dandolo is going to crush you like a bug.”

He yawned. “Is she.”

“Yes. She knows you’re behind this. She knows it was you who attacked Orso, and her own damned son.”

“Then why isn’t she here, defending you?” asked Tomas. “Why are you here all alone?” He grinned when she didn’t answer. “You’re not too quick with your bullshit, are you? But don’t worry—we’ll find whoever caught your package. The second you entered the Mountain, I had them shut all the gates. Whoever was helping you is still trapped here—and if they try and get out, they’ll be shot to pieces. If they haven’t already gotten killed, that is.”

Shit, thought Sancia. God, I hope Gregor got out…

“Tell me now,” said Tomas, “and I might let you live. For a while.”

“The other houses aren’t going to let you get away with this,” said Sancia.

“Sure they will,” he said.

“They’ll rise up against you.”

“No, they won’t.” He laughed. “You want to know why? Because they’re old. All the other houses were raised on traditions, and norms, and rules, and manners. ‘You can do what you like out on the Durazzo,’ their grand old daddies said, ‘but in Tevanne, you conduct yourself with respect.’ Oh, they have their spy games here and there, but it’s all so polite and orderly, really. Like all incumbents, they got old, and fat, and slow, and complacent.” He sat back, sighing thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s the scriving thing—always thinking up rules…But victory belongs to those who move as fast as possible, and break all the rules they need. Me? I don’t give a shit about traditions. I’m more honest about it. I’m a businessman. If I’m making an investment, the only thing I care about is the highest possible yield.”

“You don’t know shit,” said Sancia.

“Oh, some Foundryside whore is going to lecture me on economic philosophy?” He laughed again. “I needed some entertainment.”

“No. Dumbass, I’m from the goddamn plantations,” she said. She grinned at him. “I’ve seen more horrors and torture than your dull little mind could ever dream up. You think you’re going to beat me into submission? With those frail arms, and those delicate wrists? I highly scrumming doubt it.”

He made to strike her again, but again, she didn’t flinch. He glared at her for a moment, then sighed and said, “If he didn’t think you were valuable…” Then he turned to one of his guards. “Go and get Enrico. I guess we’re going to have to hurry this shit along.”

The guard left. Tomas walked