The Agent (38 page)

“I want two girls, half my debt, two bowls of opium, and drinks.”

“One bowl and nothing from my good stock.”

“Booze or whores?”

“Both.”

Garran curled his lip as he shifted from foot to foot. “Fine! It’s been a damned stressful few weeks, and I’m beyond being choosey.”

“Lucky for you, so are some of my girls.”

“Again with the hurtfulness.”

“If you don’t pay off the rest of your tab, I’ll show you how hurtful I can be.”

Garran waved over his shoulder as he followed two women up the stairs and into a room. One packed a pipe with opium while the other poured a glass of whiskey. With both hands now occupied, Garran lay on the bed and let the women go about their business without his direct involvement for a time.

Garran looked from the now empty glass to the opium pipe as his head swam. “Not her good stock? Seems pretty damned good to me,” he slurred.

The glass and pipe fell from his nerveless fingers. Garran watched the tumbler roll across the floor as one of the prostitutes took the pipe away before it could scorch the bedsheets. The door opened, and Garran struggled to make sense of the men’s faces as they entered the room.

“Garran Holt, I knew you would show up here eventually,” Edmund Coulain announced.

“Whah muh faug?” Garran muttered as he tried to force his mouth to form the words flitting through his muddled brain.

“Damn, Mr. Coulain, he drank enough tranquilizer to knock out a team of horses,” one of Edmund’s thugs said.

“Now you understand why I took so much care in debilitating him. Grab him up. This little prick has cost me enough profit without his blood rendering the room unusable.”

“Nuh gah!” Garran protested as strong arms lifted him from the bed and carried him from the room.

Garran fought to remain conscious. He reached for his transcended power, but it lay far beyond his grasp. His stomach revolted and threatened to heave its contents as his body bobbed up and down as they descended the stairs. They carried Garran out into the alley, down several side streets, and into the basement of another building.

There, they strapped him to a stout table stained nearly black with the blood of countless others who had crossed or displeased Edmund over the years. His wrists and ankles secured, Edmund loomed over his prostrate body, a small but sharp knife held loosely in one hand.

“Normally, I prefer my subject be completely coherent before I go to work, but I am not foolish enough to take such a risk with the likes of you. I hope you appreciate the fact that your death will be far swifter and less painful than I desire.”

“Whah—wait!” Garran cried out as his flesh began to part beneath the lightest pressure of the knife’s blade. He shook his head in an attempt to clear away some of the fog and groaned, “I have got to stop falling for that trick!” He forced his eyes to focus on Edmund. “I can pay you—with interest.”

Edmund smiled and shook his head. “It ceased being about money long ago.”

“Bullshit. At the end of the day, money is all that matters. I can get you far more than I owe and favors you cannot possibly earn without me.”

“The word on the street is that Gregor Ward is nearly as displeased with you as I am. I think that line of credit has reached its end—as has yours.”

Garran winced as the knife opened a long but shallow wound in his side. “Not Gregor, The Guild, and likely Gordon too!”

A frown replaced Edmund’s smile, but he lifted the knife. “The Guild would grant me a boon? They are a bigger threat to my organization than the constabulary has ever been. What sort of favor would they offer other than a swift death?”

“I have something they want more than you. Not only will they and the King pay you for it, they might be so grateful as to allow you to operate without interference.”

“What could you possibly possess that is so valuable to them?”

“Get me my clothes and I’ll show you.”

CHAPTER 38

Startled, Liam and Adam jumped and prepared to defend themselves when the secret panel in their room swung open. They relaxed when Garran stepped through the opening but tensed once more when several unknown men followed him into the room.

Adam, his voice heavy with confusion and concern, asked, “Garran, what’s this?”

“Sorry, kid, it’s a change in plans.”

“What kind of change?”

“The unavoidable kind. You’ll need to go with them.”

Adam took a step back, the look on Garran’s face filling him with dread. “Where are they taking me?”

Garran sighed and his shoulders slumped. “They are going to take you to Gordon.”

Adam backed away until his back pressed up against the wall. “No, you can’t do this! You need me!”

Garran shook his head. “No, I don’t. I haven’t needed you since the day Callum’s ships set sail.”

“How can you do this? I…I thought we were friends.”

“You were a means to an end. Nothing more. I told you as much several times, but you never listened.”

“But our end was to save my sister and remove Gordon from the throne!”

“No, that was your end. I don’t give a damn who sits on the throne. Gordon is no better or worse than your father was. Remiel drafted thousands into slavery to build his road, which led to many of those people’s death, my friend’s amongst them. Since he is already dead, my end is destroying The Guild, and I can’t do that if a bunch of thugs cut my throat.”

Liam raised a knife and charged. “You backstabbing sonofabitch!”

Garran caught the young man’s wrist as he plunged the knife toward Garran’s chest and delivered a powerful blow with his other hand. The punch struck Liam square in the jaw and dropped him to floor.

“Garran, you can’t do this!” Adam shouted.

“Can and did.”

“I’ll tell Gordon and Gregor what you are planning.”

“If you do, then they will win, and we will accomplish nothing. My plan is still in play, and I might be able to rescue your sister as long as you keep your damn mouth shut.”

“I never should have trusted you. I despise you!”

Garran hung his head. “Me too, kid, me too.”

“We got what we came for. We should kill him too,” one of Edmund’s crew said as he bound Adam’s hands behind his back. “What’s to keep him from coming after us if we let him go?”

Garran held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I have no issue with you, Coulain. Whatever has happened between us is just business and I can respect that. I’m the guy who just handed you over a fortune, and it’s likely not going to be the last time we can benefit each other.”

Edmund scratched his chin and thought. “My colleague has a point. You are a dangerous man when crossed. It would be foolish of me to think you won’t hold a grudge for forcing you to betray your friend.”

“Like I said, he was never my friend.”

“So you say…”

“You need me to prove I don’t care about these people?” Garran bent down, picked up Liam’s knife, and buried the blade into his chest. “They don’t mean anything to me. Are we done here?”

Adam’s mouth dropped open, his mind numb at the unexpected brutality. “Garran, what have you done?”

“What I always do—eventually.”

Edmund watched the blood blossom around the neat hole in the boy’s chest and nodded. “All right, Holt, but you know I can get to you if I have to. Don’t ever come around my territory. If I need you, I will contact you.”

Edmund motioned to his men. One of them dropped Garran’s weapons on the floor, and they all departed through the secret door, pushing Adam ahead of them.

***

Scores of ships sailed less than a mile from Leva’s coast as the flotilla passed near the capital’s harbor. Colorful flags waved, large kites danced in the sky from atop their masts, and bands all played the same tune in perfect harmony upon the decks. Thousands lined the beach and crowded the docks to watch the annual spectacle unfold.

Once the maritime procession completed its display, the flotilla tacked away from shore and out into open water beyond sight of any casual observations. Lookouts reported a dozen scouting vessels anchoring a mile off Leva’s coast, taking up their stations the moment the Artemisian ships sailed away.

There would be no getting close to the capital for the army packed into their holds to disembark, but the amphibious assault did not require the ships to enter the harbor. As dusk fell, two thousand Hillmen, buoyed by slabs of cork sewn into their clothing or crafted into floatation aids, slipped over the decks and into the water to begin the arduous three-mile swim. 

***

Chained to a dungeon wall, Adam had little concept of the passing time. His best guess was that he had been taken somewhere between one and three days ago. The lack of light and food was only part of the problem he had marking the time. The other part being that he simply no longer cared.

The only thing more heartbreaking than Garran’s betrayal was watching him kill Liam. He had thought he could save his young cousin; rescue him from hiding despite Liam’s protests, but he had gotten him killed in the end. He wanted to blame Garran for that too, but he knew in his heart that it was his fault. It was his fault for breaking his cover, and it was his fault for trusting Garran. Garran was right. He was just a naïve fool whose ideas of basic decency and trust had been his downfall.

Adam looked up at the sound of keys rattling and the lock on his door snapping open. Two guards stepped into the room followed by Gordon.

“Hello, brother,” Gordon greeted cheerfully. “I apologize for not visiting more often, but being king leaves me so little time to myself.”

“You are no brother of mine!”

“I understand your discomfiture, but I am sure your attitude toward me will soften after being reunited with your sister, my wife, after a time.”

“Evelyn,” Adam breathed. “Where is she?”

“She is comfortable and perfectly safe, as you shall be once we take care of one last bit of business. Then I shall reunite you two. She is very anxious to see you.”

“What sort of business?”

“As we all know, you cannot wear the crown. However, that does not preclude your children from being eligible for succession, so we must take measures to prevent that possibility.”

“I do not have any children.”

“But you could father some.”

“I won’t. I have taken vows.”

“And I absolutely believe you, but there are those who are less inclined to accept the word of even a holy man such as yourself, so more…irrefutable measures must be taken.”

“What do you mean? What measures?”

Gordon ignored Adam’s questions and motioned for the guards to unchain him. The soldiers left on the manacles binding his wrists and marched him down the dank hall behind their monarch. They reached another room that looked like just another prison cell except with a table sporting leather straps to secure people in place.

The men strapped Adam to the table and stripped off his thin covering of undergarments. A bearded man wearing physic’s garb stood near a smaller table with an assortment of surgical tools laid out on a towel.

“I would stay, but truth be told, I am a bit squeamish at the sight of blood. I look forward to your speedy recovery so we might all enjoy a nice family dinner together.”

Adam watched Gordon leave. His eyes flashed from the now empty doorway to the physic as he stepped close to the table, a surgical knife gleaming in his hand. Adam pulled against his restraints but to no avail.

“Hold him, you dolts!” the physic demanded.

The two guards stepped up to the table and grasped Adam’s arms and legs. The physic raised his razor-sharp instrument once more. The blade flashed impossibly swift, and in two lightning-fast strokes, both guards lay on the floor trying to stem the blood flowing from their severed throats.

The physic peeled off the beard covering of his face and removed the tight bonnet on his head. “Hey there, Pickle Tits,” Garran said with a mischievous grin.

Adam fought off his momentary shock. “Garran? Let me up so I can kill you, you filthy bastard!”

“Whoa, what is this? That’s hardly any way to greet the man who just saved you from getting your berries harvested.”

“You murdered Liam!”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did! I watched you stab him in the heart!”

“You mean like this?”

Garran stabbed Adam in the chest with the surgical knife. The Prince gasped at the pain and sight of the blade plunging into his chest. Garran held up the knife, the handle hidden behind his forearm and the last inch of the tip clamped between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ouch! That damn well hurt!” Adam cried as he looked at the blood seeping from the superficial wound. “So you didn’t kill him?”

“Of course not. Truth be told, I’ve actually grown rather fond of the little bugger. He reminds me a lot of me at that age.”

“You’re still an ass for making me think you killed him. What possessed you to risk both our lives on this idiotic scheme?”

“I had to face reality. I am great at what I do. You suck at what I do. Getting us both into the palace was going to be difficult, and when Edmund and his crew caught me—”

“In a whorehouse or tavern?” Adam interrupted.

“That isn’t important!”

“So…whorehouse.”

“They caught me, and that’s when I got the idea of how to get you in without trouble as well as pay off a considerable debt to some very unpleasant people. It’s called turning lemons into lemonade.”

“It’s called a colossal dick move and it only existed because of your continued selfish debauchery.”

“It’s called shut up and stop criticizing the person who just rescued you—again!”

“You’re the one—!” Adam bit off his futile protests. “Get me off this damn table.”

Garran moved the knife toward Adam’s nether region. “Not just yet. Now, how you want it, clean shaven or just a bit off the top and sides?”

“You better let me up before I take a little off your top and sides!”

“Okay, just my initials then.”

“Garran!”

***

“You are unbelievable!” Adam groused as they skulked down the hall. “It itches like crazy!”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t have any shaving soap. It wouldn’t have been so bad if you had just held still.”

“How am I supposed to hold still when you’re using a knife to…trim my hedge?”

“All the more reason to hold still. Now the G looks like a Q and just looks stupid.”

“Now it looks stupid, as if having a letter on my body wasn’t beyond ridiculous.”

“At least it would be legible.”

“Ass. Now what?”

“We wait for the signal.”

“What signal?”

Bells rang, horns blew, and people began shouting an alarm. Within seconds, the sound of booted feet and rattling weapons and armor filled the halls as soldiers raced to their posts.

“That signal. Our Hillman friends should be converging on the palace. With everyone distracted, this will be the best time to get to your sister and sneak her out before anyone realizes she’s gone. Once our army seizes the city, you and Evelyn emerge and take control.”

“You make it sound simple.”

“It is simple. All we have to do is not die in the process.”

***

“What is happening?” Gordon demanded, his shrill cry cutting through the din of shouting men and clanging bells.

“A large force, the Hillman raiders from the sound of it, swept through the docks and are approaching the palace,” Gregor explained with measured calm.

“How? Where did they come from? I thought our soldiers destroyed them!”

“Apparently, such was not the case.”

“What do we do?” Gordon asked, his voice rising in panic.

“We stay calm. We have a sizable standing guard force and strong walls. Along with the constabulary and reserve army, we should be able to hold off a siege long enough for reinforcements to arrive.”

“That’s right! The mercenaries should be just a few days march from here!”

“You are assuming they have not betrayed us.”

Gordon’s face went slack. “Have they?”

“I do not know, Gordon, but they obviously failed to destroy the Hillmen as their reports suggested. Perhaps the barbarians managed to slip away at the last moment, but that seems unlikely.”

“What do we do?”

“We stop standing around simpering and fight. The Guild has a small private army and can raise a larger one on short notice. All we have to do is hold out until they arrive. If Garran thinks to topple us with a quick shove, he is very much mistaken.”

Gordon bobbed his head. “What should I do?”

“Take some men and see to your wife. We would not want anything to happen to her in the confusion.”

Gordon looked to his guards. “You three, follow me.”

***