when the fighting took a turn for bad, and he grabbed up all the men to go with him." She shot a scornful look at the group huddled around the hearth. "At least, all the real men. Anyways, no telling when he'll be back."
"I'll wait." His voice, though hardly above a whisper, carried across the room. No one objected.
"Drink?" Mother asked.
With a nod, Caim took a seat. He tucked his knives away, but kept them loose in their sheaths. Kit floated down from the ceiling and alighted beside him.
"Nothing out there," she reported. "There's some skirmishing over in the next block, but it seems to be moving away from this part of town. The worst is down by the docks. I think someone set fire to the city granaries."
"That should keep the tinmen busy," he murmured under his breath.
"I don't know. The harbor is out of control. I didn't see any soldiers. Not any live ones, at least."
Mother brought over his drink and set it on the table. "Don't know if you'll want to be finding Hubert just now, Caim. He wasn't in his right mind when he left, if you take my meaning."
"No, I don't. What happened?"
She rubbed a hand over her prominent bosom. "Well, 'tisn't for me to say, but you got a right to know what you're walking into."
The front door banged open. All conversation ceased as three men entered. Caim almost didn't recognize the young man in their midst. Bloodstains marred Hubert's once-fine clothes, and his hat was missing. By the gore slimed on its hilt, the rapier strapped to his hip had seen some use this night. The young nobleman's gaze had a strange cast as it swept through the taproom. When it settled on Caim, a vicious smile twisted Hubert's bruised lips.
"Mother," he said, "we have a hero among us. Set this man up with another drink on me."
Hubert's words were slurred, but there was an unmistakable air of menace behind them as he came over to Calm's table, followed by a pair of thick-shouldered goons.
"I'm not here to drink, Hubert. I came looking for your help."
Hubert plopped down in a chair. His bodyguards, or whatever they were, watched the room.
"My help? I'm a little busy right now, Caim. Tonight is the moment of our grand coup. We've got the Reds on the run, but you already know that, don't you? You paved the way, so to speak."
"What are you talking about, Hubert?"
Hubert laughed, a dry sound devoid of humor. "Playing the innocent, Caim? There's no need, I assure you. You can take full credit for my father. He was, after all, a tyrant at heart."
Caim had a sinking suspicion he knew the answer, but asked anyway. "What about him?"
"He's dead, Caim. Someone entered his rooms at the palace last night and killed him. Then they took his head. A bit macabre of you, but it was a nice touch."
Caim remembered Mathias lying in his bed with his heart cut out. What had Ral said at the Golden Wheel? Something about taking matters into his own hands. Vassili must have been Ral's secret patron. It made sense. With the backing of a Council member, Ral would have felt untouchable. But at some point, he'd decided he didn't need the archpriest. So he'd devised his own plans, which somehow involved Josey. It might already be too late. She could be dead. The thought ricocheted inside Calm's head, dashing all his thoughts to pieces. He took a deep breath. He had to remain in control. That was the only way to save her.
"And you think I had something to with it?"
Hubert leaned forward until their faces were inches apart. The reek of whiskey hit Caim like a punch to the jaw.
"You're Caim the Knife, slayer of the corrupt and powerful. But my father wasn't some goddamned monster. He did this city a lot of good."
"So good his own son was out to unseat him?"
"You don't know anything about it!" Hubert slammed his fists on the tabletop.
The other patrons huddled closer around the hearth while Hubert's bodyguards inched forward.
Kit materialized behind the bravos. "You better do something, Caim. These guys are carrying a lot of hardware."
Caim slouched back in his seat. He had never seen Hubert like this. The young man seemed on the verge of a maniacal rage.
"Listen to me, Hubert. I didn't kill your father, or any of the other Elector Councilors. That was Ral. He's working with someone, a foreigner. They're plotting to take