The Pirate's Lady - By Julia Knight Page 0,100

money, that he might do so again, and Estovan’s trade would be dead quicker than his father, the death throes as painful as Van Gast’s would be. Rillen wouldn’t be far behind.

“What would you do?”

Her mouth curved into a sly smile, one that he wanted to run his finger over, kiss and feel it. “You need the mage for now—to keep Van’s bond on. If the mage dies, so does the bond, and that’s all you have to control him. Once he’s dead…or as he’s dying, then you should strike. A trap, for both the racks who’ll come to rescue Van, and the mage.”

Rillen frowned. “How?”

“I heard Van say it. She came for a little light robbery—and revenge. The Master bonded her to try to catch Van Gast, and it nearly killed them both. She doesn’t take that lightly, not from all I’ve heard. I’m betting she wants all Remorian mages dead, that’s the revenge she was after. And she’ll come for Van Gast, I’m sure. Her and Skrymir and Holden. So use them. Use her. If she wants Van truly free, she’ll have to kill the mage, kill the bond. So have Bissan somewhere nice and tempting, where she’ll think she can kill him easy. When she does—you’ll have her to hang, and him dead by her hand. The other two mages will see a message too, become more tractable. They always thought they were invulnerable, and they were, perhaps, till the Master died. If he can die, so can they. Bissan’s death will bring that home even more.”

Rillen didn’t say anything, didn’t even think anything for once. He leaned forward and kissed her, kissed the sly smile, tasted the hatred and found it sweet. No thoughts came as he slid off her dress, shivered at her touch when she ran her hands under his tunic.

She turned her face to greet him, welcomed him with her lips, with her arms, with herself. This was new for him, who’d only known disdain or hatred, and he wallowed in it, in her.

Chapter Eighteen

Rillen stepped up onto the dais, loving the feel of every man’s eyes on him, the way every trader, big and small, had deferred to him as he entered the main atrium, eager to know how things would play. They way they’d simpered, the “little gifts of condolence” they’d sent in hope of currying favor. Probably expecting him to be just like his father. He had to concentrate to keep the sneer off his face. Poor, deluded fools. But fools who would fall over themselves to gain his support.

“It is with great regret that I must announce the death of my father, and the rest of the Yelen, at the hand of racketeers within these palace walls.” Though, if you knew that my only regret was I didn’t do it sooner… “Van Gast led a raid upon the strong room, from within the dungeons. They took everything.”

A collective gasp, muttered swearing, and a few of the richer merchants paled and fanned themselves as they calculated how much they might have lost.

Rillen held up a placating hand. “Van Gast is in my custody and will hang from Oku’s wall. I’ve every reason to expect the capture of the rest of them, and the return of what they stole.” Several of the more astute looked wary, angry or ready to seize an opportunity. But I’ll keep you where I want you. “In the meantime, the Yelen is now under my control, with the assistance of Bissan.”

All eyes turned to the mage behind Rillen, drank in the monstrous sight of him. Rillen could almost hear the way their minds rattled along new tracks as they took in the slaves that stood at the rear of the dais. Men-who-were-not-men. Slaves, minds gone, bodies pale and pliable.

One of the more headstrong merchanters tore his gaze away from Bissan and looked up at Rillen, calculating perhaps whether Rillen meant what he thought. Rillen let a smile stretch his mouth, but it did little to comfort the merchanter, who covered his unease with a hasty hand to his lips.

You know what I threaten here.

The merchanter inclined his head to Rillen, all due deference, but his gaze kept jerking between Rillen and Bissan. “This seems more than acceptable, Rillen. Will contracts be renegotiated?”

They thought he’d learned nothing of trade from his father, just the bastard second son, only fit to be captain of the guard. They thought they could play him, fool him. But he’d hooked them

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