The Death Dealer - The Complete Series Page 23

  The sudden smell of fish assaulted Grace’s senses. A faint odor of it always lingered, but the closer she got to her home the more pungent it became. She had become used to the putrid smell over time, but Nathaniel wrinkled his nose.

  “Well here is my home, and if my landlady sees me with a man after dark, even a guard, she’ll spread nasty rumors.”

  Nathaniel tapped the side of his nose. “Understood. Have a pleasant evening, Miss Hilren, and rest your weary head.”

  She nodded and padded upstairs; hurrying past her landlady’s door. Once she reached the inside of her room, she felt the stuffiness of the day’s heat stored within its confines. She gagged from the stagnation, feeling it press against her like a weight. The room needed a breeze, even a fishy-smelling one. Throwing open her shutters, she looked down the street. Sergeant Moore meandered about, sharing a few words with passersby, and then she saw him point toward her building. She ducked down in case anyone could see her in the dark. What was that man up to? Whatever it was, it was sure to mean trouble.

  Five

  The next morning, Grace’s landlady waited for her outside her door. “Mistress Fisher,” Grace said. She averted her eyes and hoped the nasty old woman wouldn’t talk to her.

  “Master Thom came by at dawn. He woke me up to deliver a message to you. Sounded mighty important.” She held out a letter with the wax seal broken, which wasn’t lost on Grace.

  “Dawn was two hours ago,” Grace commented. It was getting more and more difficult to hide her frustration whenever she had to speak to Fisher.

  “Well I promptly went back to sleep. A woman needs her beauty rest, girly.”

  Grace took the letter and opened it. Mistress Fisher had already read it, so there was no point in hiding its contents. “It says I’m needed at the Angel Inn right away.” Fisher shrugged nonchalantly. “Thank you, mistress.”

  Thom had signed the letter in Ridley’s name, probably knowing Mistress Fisher would have a look. He had been expecting her for hours. The foolish old woman was too much of a troublemaker for Grace’s tastes, but her housing was cheap enough. Grace stepped out of her lodgings and into the sun.

  “Gods,” she muttered, “deliver us from this heat.” She straightened up when she caught sight of Sergeant Moore leaning in a doorframe across the road.

  He smiled and waved, making his way to her. “Miss Hilren,” he greeted with a bow. “I was hoping to catch you before I have to start my patrol this morning.”

  What did this man want? He couldn’t be so foolish as to think she’d relent and tell him all her secrets. “Sergeant Moore.” She turned her feet for the inn. “I must protest your relentlessness in thinking I have any information to give you.”

  He shook his head but kept pace with Grace’s hurried steps. “I thought perhaps you would like to join me for dinner.”

  Grace halted her progress. “You must be daft! People will think my loyalties are split.”

  “Does a serving girl have loyalties?”

  She put a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. “I do to Jim Little. He’s worried enough with the way things are. It’ll kill him if a rumor starts that one of his girls is making eyes at a guard.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of wearing my uniform. Just one dinner, I promise. I want to brag that I’ve met Glenbard’s noblewoman. We don’t have to talk about the Guild at all.”

  “We don’t and we won’t,” she said quickly. “And you’ll stop following me around. I don’t like having you here and there like some cat I fed that never went away.” Grace would have told him off then and there, but she was interested to see what he had to say when he was off guard duty. She might glean some information from him. He was handsome enough too, and not completely unpleasant.

  “My apologies for that, but it didn’t seem right to ask last night, what with everyone on edge about Marcus.”

  “I can meet you in the market at sunset.”

  “Thank you for your time, Miss Hilren.” Again he bowed, and with a smile he turned back from where they came.

  Grace grumbled under her breath. She didn’t want any trouble. If Thom wasn’t too sore about being left to wait so long, she might confide in him about Sergeant Moore. Telling Ridley would only lead to the entire city knowing.

  ~*~*~

  Thom looked dejected as he stood in front of the Angel when Grace arrived. His head was bowed and he impatiently paced about. Grace walked up to him, prepared for trouble. She was rather late in meeting him. “The old hen only just now gave me your message.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised. Come, take a walk with me.”

  “Mayhew will skin me if I’m late.”

  Thom took her elbow and steered her away from the entrance. “I have someone taking care of your business for the time being. Now, come along.”

  He took her along to the privies and Grace had to cover her nose and mouth against the stench. Thom checked, and once satisfied no one was around, he stood before Grace. Her eyes watered and she suppressed a gag.

  “The heat makes the smell more unbearable than usual, I’m sorry.” He put a rag over his mouth and nose and Grace could smell vinegar and lavender coming from it. She inwardly fumed that he hadn’t brought her one as well. “But I did need to talk to you where no one will linger. I need a favor.”

  He leaned in close, letting his lips brush against her ears. His breath tickled her neck and a shiver rippled through her. If anyone was spying they’d think it was a lovers’ meeting, despite its unusual location. “I’ve heard Harris is going to the Emerald tonight to settle some business and get some coin for an escape from the city.”

  Grace’s heart pounded. “Don’t ask me to do this,” she breathed, more to keep the façade of lovers than out of fear of Thom’s favor.

  “Please,” he implored, and put a hand on her shoulder; squeezing gently. “I need your help to follow him if he runs from the Emerald Rose. I’m going to try to catch him, but if I can’t, I need you to track him. I don’t expect you to drag him in for justice or anything; just follow him if he gives me the slip.”

  “I’ve already made my opinion known.”

  Thom moved back and the smell of vinegar and lavender hung around her, mixing unpleasantly with the privies. “I know, but I need you. Just for tonight, and nothing more.”

  Grace felt light headed. She had made a promise, stupid as that was now, and she knew better than to go back on it. “Can’t you have one of your men do it?”

  “No – I don’t want any of them to get to him first. There’s trouble enough on all of us, so why voluntarily invite more?”

  “I shouldn’t…I can’t.” Chasing down Harris was too much like being asked to trail Moore. No. The men of the Guild asked too much.

  Thom took her hand. “You have never had outlandish requests from me. Just this one thing. You don’t have to do anything more than report back where he runs to. He runs, you chase him and point me in the right direction. You won’t dirty your hands this time.”

  Thom failed to realize that she had already dirtied herself. She could always point him in the wrong direction. That had some appeal. She could also nab Harris herself and drag him to the magistrate, therefore bypassing the Guild and Guard altogether.

  “If I grant this one favor, don’t ask me to do this again. Ever.”

  He touched his thumb to her chin. “Good girl.” She sneered at him in response. “Go on and get to work.”

  He turned to walk away, but Grace grabbed his forearm. “Thom, I know the rumors are going to start soon—”

  “You’re letting Sergeant Moore court you.”

  Her hand dropped away. He knew; of course he knew. Thom hadn’t become Marcus’s right hand man by being blind.

  “I’m joining him for dinner this evening. I didn’t want anyone telling you that...well, you know.” There was no need to say more.

  The side of Thom’s mouth turned up, but he still looked so tired and miserable. She was glad he had enough left in h
im to smile at her. “You have to have dinner. I trust you, Grace. I won’t heed the rumors.” He patted her hand gently. His sad smile tugged at Grace’s heart. Why had Marcus left him like this?

  ~*~*~

  The stables were sweltering. Grace sweated through her dress and chemise by mid-morning and her clothes clung to her, making her feel uncomfortable and gross. She put two buckets of water down in an empty stall before leaning against the stall door and wiping sweat away with her apron. Agreeing to do Mayhew’s work had been a mistake. Her muscles ached after only a few hours of it. After trying to get all the sweat off her, she changed to massaging her sore arms. The muscles were taut from bringing water in from the well.

  The door from the tavern opened and she immediately jumped back to work. She hefted one of the buckets up and brought it to the milk cow.

  “It’s just me,” Ridley said; picking up the second bucket and bringing it to the only horse residing in the stables.

  “Have you made your peace with Thom yet?” Grace handed her apron to Ridley so she could wipe herself off.

  “He still won’t tell me where Marcus is.” The bitterness in her voice had lessened, which was a good sign. “But he told me he needed my help if we’re to keep the Guard from taking Marcus to the lockup. He told me I was too important.” Soothing Ridley’s pride was a sure way to get her back in good graces. She wiped off her forehead before giving Grace the apron back.

  “I’m glad to hear that you have forgiven his secrecy.”

  Ridley’s face reflected wisdom, or at least it tried to. She nodded sagely, but had a goofy grin that ruined her attempts. “Now, will I forgive you for yours?” She tried to project anger onto Grace, but the silly expression remained.

  “What rumors have you heard?”

  “That you let Sergeant Moore into your bed after some canoodling in the alley last night.”

  Grace threw the apron over her shoulder and shook her head. She clasped her hands in front of her and lowered her eyes in mock modesty. A few moments passed before Ridley pinched Grace’s arm. “Ow!”

  “The truth!”

  “The good sergeant has invited me to dinner. Now that’s the truth, and I’d prefer not to have to talk about this anymore. I was already cornered by Thom about it first thing this morning.”

  Standing on two different sides of the law made for animosity between Guild and Guard. The poor girls from the Lane were thrown out of their families if they allowed a guard to court them, and Grace had no intention of running away like Harris for crossing the Guild. Coming clean to Thom and Ridley was a safe choice. They ran things at present. They wouldn’t allow danger to come to her.

  Ridley scrunched up her face. “You want to feast with a lion?”

  Grace rolled her eyes and whipped Ridley with the apron. “I feast with you wolves often enough. And don’t look at me like I’m putting a knife into your gut. I happen to like dinner.”

  “I know you’ve been hurting ever since Jack left, but this is a mistake.”

  There it was, and until then it had been such a lighthearted conversation. That’s what everyone thought. Everything revolved around Jack breaking her heart and leaving by the sea. She knew she’d never be free of it. Whenever she cried or got mad, it would always be because of Jack. But Ridley was her best friend, and she was supposed to know better. Grace threw down her apron and stormed from the stables.

  Six

  “You’re losing a day’s pay!” Mayhew hollered after Grace as she threw her apron at him. She declared she no longer felt good and was going home. No one believed her, but no one tried to stop her, either.

  Grace visited the public baths to wash the stink off, and when she returned home she borrowed a mirror from the young lady who lived above her. It wasn’t like Grace to spend so much time readying herself, but after the reminder of Jack she decided to look nice for her dinner. Feeling clean and washed, Grace inspected herself in the dirty mirror.

  She braided her dark blonde hair. It fell several inches below her shoulders and swung like a pendulum when she moved her head. Her face was pink from the sun, but it wasn’t the ruddy red of sunburn yet. Her nose was a shade darker than the pink on her cheeks. Her ears stuck out slightly, but her hair usually managed to cover it. She smiled at herself. The gray eyes looking back at her were shiny with unshed tears. Grace took in a deep breath to calm herself.

  She was still frustrated with Ridley. She was the one person who was supposed to understand Jack no longer had a hold over Grace. It was over. Grace put on a short-sleeved, gray chemise that hung to her waist, and over that she put on a light blue, sleeveless tunic that fell to the floor. She slipped her feet into her new boots. It was time to go.

  The city of Glenbard had five districts. There was Golden Road, home of the temples; Merchant’s Way, home to the richest merchants and noble families; Seafarer’s Street, home to the docks; Serenity Place, inhabited by guards and more well-to-do families; and finally Rogue’s Lane, playground for the Thieves Guild. Living on Seafarer’s Street and working on Rogue’s Lane, Grace typically didn’t have a reason to venture beyond her borders. The market was located between Golden Road and Merchant’s Way, in the heart of the city.

  The sun dipped low in the sky and Grace’s shadow was elongated as she hurried up toward Market Street to meet the good sergeant. The stalls that remained open were trying to peddle their leftover goods. An elderly woman with a dirty apron dangled a cut of beef in Grace’s face as she walked past.

  “One copper! A fine deal on a fine cut.” Grace gave the beef a glance. The center was still good, but the edges were browning. She pushed the woman’s hand away gently. “You’ll get a decent meal for your little ones.”

  “Good-day, mistress.” Grace smiled politely and moved on. The woman went up to the next passerby.

  A man tried to sell her two-day old bread, a little islander girl tried to peddle her wilted orange flowers, and a pregnant young woman around her age worked hard to push a dozen eggs on her. Grace declined each one with a smile and a nod. After running the gauntlet of merchants, she took a seat on the edge of the market’s fountain.

  The statue in the middle of the fountain was a boar with great tusks. Water cascaded down on it from the stone tree that was supposed to shade the boar for eternity. Grace put her back to the fountain; letting sprinklings of water dot her neck. She crossed her legs and watched the dwindling crowd.

  She spotted Sergeant Moore, outside of his uniform, coming toward her. He was dressed in brown trousers and a green linen cotte, and Grace put a hand over her mouth to hide her giggle. Nathaniel was not as dashing in commoner clothes as he was in his uniform. His hair was free of its ponytail and hung to his shoulders. He smiled upon seeing her.

  “Miss Hilren,” he greeted her, and held out a hand to help her up. She took it, enjoying the gallantry of the guard. He kissed the top of her hand.

  “Sergeant.” She took her hand back.

  As his eyes took her in, she was glad she bothered to visit the baths and scrub herself. He looked to have done the same. “Hungry?”

  “Quite.” She wasn’t sure what to say otherwise.

  “Well,” he hooked his arm with hers, “I thought perhaps we could go to the King’s Beard. They brew a fine ale.”

  The King’s Beard was located in the heart of Serenity Place, and was a favorite place for off-duty guards to enjoy a drink and a warm meal. It was a good thing she’d taken the precaution of telling Thom and Ridley about dinner with Nathaniel. If no one had seen her yet, she’d be caught for sure at the King’s Beard. The Guild always had someone working at the tavern to spy on the Guard. Her every smile and yawn would be reported back to Thom and then to Marcus.

  Nathaniel watched her reaction to his suggestion for dinner. She reminded herself that he was a sergeant, and as such would know the Guild had a man in the Guard’s tavern. The Guard also had a man in the Angel. Everyone kept everyone else in check in Glenbard, and right now he was gauging her to
see who kept her in check.

  She smiled and nodded. “I’ve heard they do have the finest ale in the city.” She let him take her arm and lead her toward the King’s Beard.

  ~*~*~

  The smell of fresh bread was a comforting smell of home. The rolls that the serving wench brought had recently been pulled from the oven, and three slices of ham off the bone were sitting next to the rolls with a dollop of butter. She sipped at her soup; a broth with onions and noodles floating in it. The taste lingered on her tongue even after she swallowed and she lifted her mug to take a swig of ale. The soup was too salty for her and too hot for the summer. This would have been more fitting in the heart of winter. Grace wondered that the cook hadn’t collapsed of heat stroke.

  “It’s the best brew in the city,” Nathaniel commented when she put her mug down.

  Grace wasn’t much for ale, not when red wine was so readily available. The ale he ordered her was almost a meal in itself. It sat heavily in her stomach, right next to the too salty soup. “It’s delicious,” she lied.

  When Nathaniel split open a roll, the steam rose up and so did the wonderful smell. She grabbed a roll for herself and bit into it without bothering to add ham or butter. Three men in their guard uniforms passed the table, each patting Nathaniel on the shoulder. The last in the line stopped.

  “Sergeant, you can’t take a pretty wench like this one to a better tavern?”

  “Constable Trenton.” Nathaniel shook his hand with a slight smirk. “Allow me to introduce you to Miss Grace Hilren.”

  Trenton gave Grace the once over. “Glenbard’s serving noblewoman? Here? Well!” He dragged a chair over from another table. “You made quite a stir last summer after you came to the city. Dueling in the King’s Tournament? Ha! Foolish little minx!”

  Grace bit her lower lip. She wanted to scowl and kick the constable under the table, but it would be poor form and they might just drag her to the lockup for it.

  She had secretly dueled in the tournament when her cousin was injured, but it was a mistake that ruined her life and forced her from her childhood home and her family. It had been months before she was finally accepted, the jokes stopped, and the suspicions ended. Being reminded of things from her past soured her mood, though that wasn’t a difficult thing to do these days. Her moods swung easily, like a pendulum on a clock.