Reign of Darkness (The Prince's Assassin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,106

jostling seemed to last a lifetime, but eventually, it rocked to a halt. The horses clopped away, their tack chinking, signaling the end of this journey. And finally, the door opened.

Two guards ventured inside to haul him out into a courtyard at night. The palace courtyard. Niko played at stumbling and made himself awkward to handle, as though weak.

“Loosen his ankles,” one of the guards muttered. “Unless you want to carry him?”

“Carry him? He’s twice my size.”

Niko slumped over and mumbled nonsense.

The smaller guard pulled his ankle ropes loose. Niko brought his knee up, slamming it into the guard’s nose. He flailed and screamed, alerting every damned guard in the area.

The other guard fumbled with freeing his sword. Niko ran at him and tackled him shoulder-first against a wall. The guard’s head flung back, striking the stone. He staggered and dropped like a felled tree. His sword skittered across the cobbles, right into Niko’s path. Niko gingerly angled his tied wrists behind him and ran the ropes against the edge of the blade. It took some fiddling, and any second, more guards would appear, but suddenly the ropes gave. Niko tore the rag from his mouth and bolted out of the stables, stolen sword in hand.

“Halt!”

The new guard’s eyes weren’t black, like the other two. Niko ran at him all the same, using surprise to shove him off his feet. He tried to get up. Niko struck him on the back of the neck and was running again.

“Nikolas.”

He jolted to a halt at the familiar woman’s voice and whirled. Lady Maria jogged toward him. She tossed him a cloak. “Quickly, put that on and follow me.”

He blinked at her.

“Hurry, darling. Once the bells ring, I can’t get you out.”

He threw the cloak on and jogged alongside her. “What are you doing here?”

“I had planned on freeing you, but it seems you’re already halfway there. There are too many guards by the main gate. They’ll overpower you. Quickly, hide the sword inside and follow me.”

He tucked the hood down to hide his face. “Did Vasili send you?” he asked, hating how hope leaped into his head. Vasili had planned this. He was always one step ahead. He’d planned for Niko’s “escape” and sent Lady Maria to do his bidding like she’d done in the past. It had all been a ruse.

“No,” she replied, and Niko’s heart sank. “Come.” She led him through the quiet palace grounds and out a side gate, bribing a guard with a silent exchange of coin. The transaction was so seamless she’d clearly done it before. The city of Loreen’s curving streets unfurled in the night. A few hulking figures loomed in doorways, looking like they might stab a man for the contents of his pockets. Loreen had already been suffering since the war, but now half the houses they passed were boarded up. Slop blocked gutters and the ripe stench of decay hung in the stagnant air.

“Here.” Maria opened the stained-glass door Niko vaguely recognized, but it wasn’t until he was inside that he remembered its dark beams and long bar. The Stag and Horn pleasure-house. All its tables had been shoved to one side, and the windows were boarded like those of its neighbors.

A man in a heavy riding cloak emerged from the back room, his wide hat glistening with fresh rain. “Yasir?”

Yasir flung his arms around Niko and thumped him hard enough on the back to set all his wounds ablaze all over again. “Nikolas! I thought you’d died in the desert!”

Niko held Yasir at arm’s length and grinned at the captain. He looked almost sheepish under the scrutiny. If Niko had known what to say, he doubted he’d have been able to speak.

“Walla, look at you,” Yasir grunted. “You’re bleeding all over my silk shirt.”

The man’s smile almost brought him to his knees. He was afraid his legs might give out and gripped Yasir in a harder embrace, grateful when he subtly pulled away and guided Niko to the dusty bar.

“Get that in you.” He busied himself behind the bar, producing an old bottle of something dark. “You clearly need it. Not too much, mind. We need it to clean whatever wound is producing all that blood.”

Niko downed the drink, then spluttered from the heat and braced himself against the bartop, head bowed. He wiped at his mouth, gasping from it all. “Are we safe here?”

“Yes,” Maria replied, appearing at his side. “The pleasure-house closed weeks ago. Although I can’t stay long. I’ll