Authors: Brock E. Deskins
“What?”
“I just found out. My best friend is raising him as his own.”
“Are you going to see him?”
“Naw, we all agreed that it’s best if he doesn’t know I exist.”
“You didn’t know who your real father was and look what happened.”
“Yeah, well, I have enough people wanting me dead right now. Best if I make an active effort to limit them to non-blood relatives.”
“I think you may have put your mother on that list.”
“I like to think I’m adopted.”
“I’m sure she does too.”
“I’d like to think you two girls will shut the hell up soon,” Liam groused.
“Now you’ve done it,” Garran said, “you’ve gone and woke the children.”
“Who cares, he’s adopted.”
“Asses,” Liam grumbled and pulled the blankets over his head.
“I really wished you would have stayed in Merribourne,” Adam said to Liam as they skulked through Leva’s darkened streets, his eyes darting to every shadow, flicker of light, or movement.
“I wish you would stop acting like my nanny. These people killed my family too, and want to be there when we thrust the knife into their guts.”
“I like your style, kid,” Garran said, “but this would be easier with fewer people.”
“I’m not a kid, and I think I have proven that I am capable of taking care of myself.”
“Still,” Adam argued, “we are in the lion’s den here, and we are prime cuts of meat.”
“We are nowhere near the zoo,” Garran quibbled.
“It was a metaphor!” Adam snapped.
Liam chortled. “Yeah, meaning he’s afraid of pussy.”
Garran stopped and convulsed as he fought to contain his laughter, his breath coming out in a series of snorts.
“I am not, and will you two shut up? We are in hostile territory, and neither of you are being particularly stealthy or professional!”
Liam smiled wide enough that his teeth showed even in the dim lamplight. “Hostile territory, that’s what he calls a woman’s nether regions.”
Adam glared at Liam and then at Garran who was pounding his fist against a brick wall as he fought back his laughter. “Both of you need to grow up!”
“You need to grow a pair,” Liam countered.
Adam sighed and punched Garran on the shoulder. “Where are we going?”
Garran pushed off the wall and looked around. “Oh, actually, we’re here.”
Garran crossed the street and stopped before a door. All three entered the small tavern located in one of the city’s lower wards. The barman looked up and gave Garran a nod. Garran led the way up the stairs to the building’s only room.
“Garran, a lot of people looked at us when we walked in. Aren’t you afraid someone will recognize one of us and turn us in?”
“Trust me, this is a secure place, and only my people are allowed in.”
“Your people?”
“Yes, my people. Did you think it was just you and me taking on The Guild and the largest kingdom in the world?”
“So they are Free Traders?”
“Or sympathizers.” Garran opened a hidden panel set into one wall. “There’s a bolthole leading to stairs that will take you down to the basement. Behind some kegs is another hidden passageway that runs under the streets for about a hundred feet to another basement in case you have to flee.”
“Me? What about you?” Adam asked.
“I need to make contact with some of my other agents.”
“You’re leaving us alone again?”
“You’re fine. Everyone downstairs is essentially your bodyguard. They will make plenty of noise and provide you ample time to make use of the bolthole should anyone come. There are people waiting at the far end who will take you in hand in such an event.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“He said to every woman everywhere,” Liam quipped.
Adam scowled at his cousin. “You talk a lot of crap for a kid who has likely never even seen a naked woman.”
“I’m fourteen!”
Garran scoffed. “By the time I was fourteen, I’d had sex five—”
“Farm animals don’t count,” Liam interjected.
“—two times already.”
Adam shook his head. “You are so going to hell.”
“And skipping all the way there whilst whistling a jaunty tune!” Garran agreed enthusiastically.
***
The hour was late, but Leva never truly slept. There were still enough people meandering through the streets and occupying the city’s nighttime hotspots that Garran was able to move freely without attracting undue attention. Even so, he performed several route deviations and double backs to ensure that no one was following him before entering the moderately posh drinking house located in the heart of one of the middle wards.
Garran entered the drinking house and took a seat at the bar. It was not crowded, but a fair number of mostly middle-aged and older middle-class men and a few women sat at the tables drinking, cajoling, and playing various games, most often involving small, petty wagers.
The agent sipped at his drink and was on his third one when someone took a seat next to him. Garran flicked his eyes to the side without turning his head and took in the man’s long, dark coat, expensive garb, and unrepressed sense of superiority.
“Philip,” Garran said in greeting before finishing his current drink in one gulp.
“It is Dean Kelsey to you.”
“I’m no longer your student.”
“Nor are we friends.”
Garran Shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“I must say, I am beyond surprised to see you are still alive and in the city, with Prince Adam still in your charge as well. Your continued success, however accidental it must be, is going to cost me a fair sum of money.”
“I thought you would have learned not to bet against me by now.”
“Old prejudices die hard, but it takes only the weight of a single ‘I told you so’ to balance the scales in my favor.”
“Speaking of hard, how is your wife?”
“Do you really want to make this conversation unpleasant?”
“Isn’t it already?”
“Any interaction with you is unpleasant regardless of topic. Speaking of I told you so, I have some news for you.”
“What’s that?”
“This is not the place for it. I will get up and leave. In a few minutes, you will go to a room in the back and exit through the door into the alley. I will await you in my carriage.”
Garran nodded and Philip left without another word. Garran consumed another drink, making it last a few minutes before standing and going through the door Philip had indicated. The room was used for storage and was filled with a few tables, several chairs, and an assortment of odds and ends. Another door stood barred from the inside at the far end. Garran lifted the bar, opened the door, and stepped into the alley. He strode to the carriage parked at the end and climbed aboard.
“So what do you have to tell me?” Garran asked as he took a seat across from Dean Kelsey and the coach began to move.
“It is more of a surprise than a briefing.”
Garran crossed his arms and slunk into his seat. “I hate surprises. Surprises usually end up with me needing medication for an infection or having to push a woman down a flight of stairs.”
“Your selfish depravity truly knows no boundaries.”
“That’s me, boundless—except when I pay for a good binding.”
“How you have managed to achieve any measure of success is truly baffling.”
The coach clopped and rattled up the illuminated streets for several minutes before stopping inside the gated inner courtyard of a respectable manor. Armed men closed the gates behind the carriage and stood guard as Garran and the dean emerged and went into the house.
“Garran!” someone called out the moment Garran and Philip entered the parlor.
Garran turned toward the voice. Aniston shambled in on crutches, his legs and torso bound in what appeared to be some bizarre, iron birdcage. Hinges at the knees and hips allowed a small measure of movement.
“What the hell happened to you? You get in fight with a psychotic blacksmith or something?”
“Aniston,” Dean Kelsey said, “you should not be out of bed.”
Aniston ignored the dean’s admonishment. “I tangled with a nasty bloke by the name of Zeegers. I heard Gordon sent him after you. Did he find you?”
Garran shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, he found me.”
“Is he dead?”
“Yes—well, I’m about ninety percent sure he’s dead. I didn’t really have the time to stick around after I stabbed him.”
“That’s good. It’s not like you to miss your mark.”
“Yeah…”
“What’s the matter?”
“Funny thing. It turns out he was my father.”
Aniston furrowed his brow. “That…actually explains a lot about the both of you.”
“It definitely looks as though he got a piece of you.”
“He got more than a piece, the sneaky bastard. The physic gave me only a fifty-fifty chance of ever walking again. Even so, I won’t ever win any foot races.”
“You run like a girl anyway. What else has happened? I hadn’t gotten any messages in weeks.”
Aniston nodded. “Yeah, after I got found out, Dean Kelsey thought it was too risky to contact you anymore. I still can’t believe you two are working together. I thought you hated each other?”
“Oh, we most certainly do,” Philip affirmed. “It just so happens that our agendas currently coincide. I warned Remiel on numerous occasions that he put far too much trust in Gregor, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”
“How is Evelyn faring?” Garran asked.
“Well enough I suppose,” Aniston answered. “The dean still has people on the inside keeping an eye on her, but I haven’t been able to contact her at all. She probably thinks I’m dead. Do you know she’s pregnant?”
“Yes, but the palace is full of stairs. Anything could happen.”
“It better not! Gordon is not the father.”
Garran took a step back and frowned. “Then who is?” Garran interpreted the smile that nearly touched Aniston’s ears. “Get out of here, you dog! It’s nice to see you haven’t been lying down on the job—then again, I guess you have been.”
Philip cleared his throat. “Speaking of jobs—”
“You want to give me that surprise now?”
“Aniston was the surprise.”
“Oh. You’re not very good at surprises. Bit of a letdown after such a buildup.”
“Yes, my wife said much the same thing about you.”
“Ouch, that’s hurtful. What did I ever do to you?”
The dean sighed and shook his head. “Speaking of jobs, what of your plan to bring in men to take the palace and secure the city? Gregor has doubled the guard at the docks and at all of the gates.”
“It’s underway as we speak. In a couple of days, Artemisia’s armada will sail past Leva flying their banners and putting on a show before sailing out of sight. When night falls, they will close within a couple miles of the shore and enter the city by swimming into the harbor. I assume you have men ready to take the gates to let our army in?”
“I have managed to gather nearly a hundred men committed to our cause with eyes on close to three hundred more sympathizers. Once the invasion is underway, my people will contact and try to recruit them. This way, those who are not on board will have no time to betray us to Gordon or The Guild.”
“We should have some of your people cause a commotion near the docks to divert the soldiers’ attention away from the water.”
Philip nodded. “I can do that.”
“What about Evelyn?” Aniston asked.
“Adam and I should have her in hand and out of the palace before the siege begins. The last thing we need is for Gregor or The Guild to use her and the future king as a bargaining chip. What about the constabulary? They represent the largest fighting force in the city.”
“Let’s be honest,” Philip said, “this will not happen without a lot of blood being spilled. I think I have enough of my people in place that I can slow their reaction and even turn many of them to our side, but there is going to be a natural reaction to an invading force we cannot avoid, especially if your mercenaries start slaughtering indiscriminately.”
“They know that The Guild is the enemy, not the people of Anatolia.”
“I certainly hope so. If this turns too bloody, Evelyn and her son’s rule could be very brief.”
“Don’t worry; this is all working out exactly to plan.”
Aniston looked down at his ironbound legs. “Really? Exactly as planned?”
Garran rolled his eyes. “Don’t make this all about you. Seriously, you can be such a narcissist sometimes.”
“I’m the…remind me to kick you in the nuts when this is over.”
“Yeah…I’ll probably have to lay on the floor for you.”
“Ass. What do we do now?”
“You two sit tight. I’m going to go get me a little bind and grind action.”
“Honestly, you think that’s what you should be doing on the eve of our greatest moment?” Philip asked.
“Hey, you’re the one who brought it up.”
“I did no such thing!”
“You most certainly did.” Garran sighed. “Am I the only one capable of taking personal responsibility around here?”
***
“Cyril!” Madam Lulu called out when she spotted Garran entering her brothel. “Or is it Lanny or Rupert this time? Oh, never mind. I don’t care as long as you pay up front.”
“Why do I have to pay up front?” Garran demanded, feigning insult.
“Because I don’t feel like nailing the shutters closed! And don’t even think about faking a fit and escaping when they carry you away to the hospital.”
“Fine, but your lack of trust is very hurtful.” Garran dug into his pocket and retrieved a fistful of coins. “What’ll this get me?”
Lulu made a quick count after Garran dumped the money into her cupped hands. “One girl and a cleared debt.”