The Death Dealer - The Complete Series Page 32

  “He demanded bribes from those who couldn’t afford them. He didn’t truly serve anyone around here. The Lane is better off without him.” Grace wanted to regret her words, but she didn’t. Taylor was a bully and a cheat. He didn’t deserve death, but he certainly wasn’t suited to be called a protector of the peace.

  “No wonder Marcus threw you out and Mad Dog Anders left. Yours is a cold heart,” Nathaniel retorted icily and slammed the door as he left. Below her, Mistress Fisher banged on the ceiling. Grace was suddenly itching for a fight.

  Twelve

  It was no use waiting for Jack to return. With her blood boiling and her fingers craving a weapon, Grace went to him. His lodging was in the heart of the Lane in a rundown boarding house with part of the roof caved in on the east side. Grace had the feeling Jack squatted in the place, as no one else seemed to inhabit it.

  His room was cramped with a musty old bedroll and a sack as his only possessions. The fishy smelling room Grace rented was as fine as the King’s castle in Ursana by comparison.

  “I believe you have lost me in your plan,” Jack said after she explained herself to him. On the walk from her home to his, she had hastily formulated a plan. The look on Jack’s face reflected how ill-formed it was.

  “I want to escort Harris to Ciro’s temple, where he can seek sanctuary,” Grace quietly laid out her plan for Jack as he listened with confused interest.

  “Why ask him to take the robes of a priest? And who will sponsor him? You?” He sat on his bedroll, knees to his chest, like a child listening to a story.

  “No one will violate Ciro’s law and kill a man who has sought sanctuary. He cannot stay there forever, because after a year and a day he can be turned out and sanctuary will no longer save him. But if Harris repents and takes the robes of a priest, he can survive. He can live to atone for the crimes he’s committed. We can sponsor him.”

  “Little chick, where will you and I get the coin to pay his fees? I used what little I had to pay Kay off, while you were cast out with nothing. If he was a woman he could sell his womb and produce a god’s child, but he is very much a man. Why the interest in saving him at all? He killed a man in cold blood.”

  “I don’t want Marcus or Ericson to win. Arresting Jim, demanding Harris’s return…it all goes deeper than the death of a single guard. Marcus won’t let one of his own be tortured, and Ericson won’t let Marcus sweep the problem under the rug now that he has a champion in Nathaniel.”

  “And you think Harris becoming a priest will ease tensions?”

  Grace stopped her pacing. “It’ll halt the escalation of events for a while.”

  “I don’t think you see the folly here. You said yourself it all runs deeper than Taylor and Harris. If this doesn’t test the breaking point, something else will. I know you want to, but you can’t fix this.”

  “I can stem the tides for a little while.”

  “You’ve always been earnest in your endeavors, I have to give you credit for that. It is endearing and annoying at the same time. Are you doing this to atone for past sins?” She shrugged and took up her pacing again. “Well, meet me tonight outside the Emerald. We’ll see if you can’t talk some sense into Harris Atkins.”

  Grace’s face suddenly went white. “What’s wrong now?” Jack questioned.

  “I left all my things at Marcus’s.”

  “And?”

  “And I have some very important things in my bag.”

  ~*~*~

  Marcus could throw a fit and stomp his feet all he liked, but Ridley knew Grace didn’t have a vicious bone in her body. She’d heard the comment about them living in the muck, but why deny what was true? It was hard to hear, but Ridley was able to push down the feelings of anger. She had uttered a few choice comments about Grace’s upbringing before, yet the former noblewoman was always so polite. So proper. So annoying. However, she was still a friend. Ridley certainly understood the need to vent.

  Down in the kitchen, Marcus cursed about Grace to Thom while Ridley went upstairs to get out of the way and to grab Grace’s bag. She’d return it once Marcus left the house again. He had tried to forbid her from consorting with Grace, but he was just being a silly old fool.

  “The blasted woman takes up with a guard and then decides we’re just a bunch of street rats? Doesn’t she realize the protection I’ve given her this past year?” Thom’s response was lost in the roar of Marcus’s tirade.

  Ridley rolled her eyes. By the sounds of things, it would be a while before she could leave. She picked up Grace’s bag from the floor. Grace had nice clothes, and she was only a little shorter than Ridley. Where was the harm in borrowing a dress?

  She upended the bag and let the contents spill out on the floor. A brown dress, black trousers, and a black shirt made out of a strange black cloth. Ridley grabbed the black cloth, trying to figure out what it was. She flattened it out on the floor and noticed two holes.

  “Oh dear.” Ridley tried to shake the answer from her head.

  The Death Dealer was a hero by all accounts; a brave man who saved people from the clutches of the wicked. He was a giant, willing to work with the Thieves' Guild for peace and prosperity among the inhabitants of Rogue’s Lane. He even had a secret pact with Marcus. He was most certainly not Grace Hilren. Proper, well-brought up Grace Hilren. The same Grace who knew how to use a sword and dagger.

  And Marcus knew. Thom knew. How many others knew what was happening? And why was everyone always trying to keep information from her? She stuffed the clothes back into the bag. Marcus’s anger be damned. She had business that needed tending to.

  ~*~*~

  Ridley barreled into Grace’s little room without a knock or a word to announce herself. Without a sound, she threw the executioner’s hood into Grace’s face. Grace had just enough time to react before Ridley started to shout.

  Seeing the anger and hurt in Ridley’s eyes, she moved quickly to stop a tantrum; throwing all her weight into tackling Ridley. Grace pinned her arms with her knees and put both hands over Ridley’s mouth. Under her weight, the Princess of Thieves tried to scream and flail about until her face turned bright red. Grace wasn’t sure if it was from fury or lack of air.

  “Don’t scream! No one can know!” Grace whispered, counted to ten, and released her hold on Ridley’s mouth. She kept Ridley pinned to the floor, though.

  “Get off me!”

  “No.”

  “You lied to me, you filthy wretch! I should—”

  Grace clapped her hands down again. “If you tell anyone about me, I’ll be gutted like a pig. Marcus only knew because he guessed, and I don’t have a clue as to how he managed that. Obviously, Thom would then know. Donald knows because he grew up alongside me in Arganis. Jack knows because Donald foolishly told him. That’s four people who know, and already four too many.” Her voice was a haggard whisper, as Mistress Fisher was probably listening carefully after the sounds of a fight drifted downstairs.

  Ridley said something and struggled against Grace. Counting aloud to ten again, Grace let her hands off her friend’s mouth. “And why couldn’t you have let one more person in on it?”

  “You’re a braggart, Ridley; pure and simple. You would want the prestige of knowing the secret and then wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from bragging about it.”

  It was a long standing goal of Ridley’s to unmask the Dealer. Everyone on the Lane knew it. If Ridley had known, she would have gone around town shouting at the top of her voice that she’d finally done it. To actually know the Death Dealer, to stand up at the Angel and say, “I know who the hero is!” – that was a prize.

  “I can’t believe you! We’re friends! I’d never sell a friend out!” Ridley replied indignantly.

  Grace lowered her eyes. It was too late now to decide if Ridley might have been trusted. “I am truly sorry.” She tried to convince herself she was, but deep down she had never wanted her friend to know. “And we are friends. A bit of cloth doesn’t change any of that.”


  Ridley growled and hissed like a cat. “And now what? Marcus needs you and you decide to desert him? You desert the Lane? You take up with Sergeant Moore?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  Ridley struggled again and Grace finally relented and got up. She reached out a hand to help Ridley, but her friend wouldn’t take it. “Please don’t be mad. What is happening now is beyond me, and it’s something I want no part in. It has nothing to do with my friends on the Lane.”

  “It has everything to do with us! Go on and keep your damn secrets!” Grace was afraid Ridley would scream out her secret then and there. Below them Mistress Fisher banged on her ceiling, but Ridley said nothing else. She simply stormed out of the room in a huff.

  Grace stood there in her room, stupefied for a few minutes. Slowly the feelings of doubt crept in. Ridley had always been loyal, if sometimes a bit flighty, and Grace couldn’t believe she would willingly bring harm her way. But she had been so hurt and angry, and there would always be concerns that Ridley would brag about knowing the secrets of the Death Dealer. If Ridley revealed what she knew, the consequences would be dire.

  ~*~*~

  Outside the lodging, Jack caught a fleeing Ridley by the arm. “Trouble?”

  “You knew all along about—”

  Jack gently put a finger to her lips. “And now you do, too?” Ridley nodded. “And where are you rushing off to with that information?”

  This gave Ridley pause for a moment. “Why shouldn’t I tell everyone I meet?” she growled through closed lips.

  When Grace was just angry at the thieves, it was easy enough for Ridley to forgive. She wasn’t one of them, so she didn’t understand. This was something entirely different, though. This was a piece of herself she had kept hidden away. Ridley might have been a powerful ally had she known. The Princess of Thieves always did right by her friends, and she used to count Grace among them.

  “If you are so intent on hating the Death Dealer, just remember who saved your life last summer.”

  In her blinding rage, Ridley had forgotten about that event. The Death Dealer – Grace – was the one who rescued her and Marcus from Mac. It could easily have ended in her death and the death of Grace, but she did it anyway.

  Jack removed his finger from her lips. “You would do well to remember that.” People around them were slowing their gaits and watching. They’d probably heard the Death Dealer’s name invoked and were now endlessly interested. A few even shared whispered conversations, but their eyes never left Ridley and Jack.

  “Does no one in this city want for entertainment?” Ridley said, her angry glare fixing on those nearest. The man and woman turned their faces away and tried to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping.

  It was better to give them something to talk about. The rumors that Thom was the Death Dealer had mostly subsided, so they needed new speculation. Ridley tried to think of something to say, tried to think of someone else to put up as the Death Dealer.

  Jack sighed, remarking, “The Death Dealer made off with some coin of the Guild’s. Can you imagine?”

  Tongues immediately started wagging. Jack crossed his arms over his chest nonchalantly and watched the rumor begin to spread.

  Ridley huffed, “Why’d you do that? It makes the Guild looked weak and ill-guarded.”

  “Better they spread that than the truth. Now maybe fools will look for lost Guild gold and ignore other goings-on in the streets. Now, let’s get back to where you are rushing off to…?”

  Ridley sighed audibly, making her annoyance known. “I suppose it’s a harsh way to pay back a true kindness by saying anything. But no one trusted me! I never would have outright told.”

  “No, but you’d have told everyone you knew who it was. And because you’re so close to her, people would eventually start guessing. Your friend didn’t tell anyone, so it’s not like you were intentionally kept out by her.”

  “Marcus could have told me.”

  “Then direct your anger at him. Can I trust you now to keep your mouth shut?” Ridley nodded her acquiescence. “Go on home and calm down. And when you have, go back and see Grace.”

  ~*~*~

  The midnight hour was called, though Grace hadn’t been home for some time. She left Mistress Fisher’s lodging before the doors were locked and went to Jack’s lodging, bag of tricks with her. She’d slept on his dirty bedroll after he went to the Emerald for the night, and now it was time to get up and meet him.

  Jack worked the alley door at the Emerald. According to him, from his position he could see into a number of windows if a candle or two was lit. He had seen Harris lurking around in one for several nights. Having no stake in either the Thieves’ Guild or the Guard, he hadn’t spoken of the discovery to anyone. This information would give Grace an advantage, but first, she’d have to go to the Emerald and wait. If they couldn’t confirm Harris was in the room, she couldn’t very well burst in.

  With any luck she would be able to grab Harris and spirit him away to the temple district with little to no fuss. Chances were Marcus trailed her, and Sergeant Moore trailed Marcus now that he’d reappeared. If she couldn’t nab Harris tonight, his hiding place would be given away. If he wasn’t caught, it wasn’t in her favor that he’d pick another spot so close to the Emerald and Jack’s watch. Though the man had neglected to flee thus far, it proved intelligence wasn’t his strong suit. Maybe he would find another place close to the tavern.

  Outside the Emerald, Jack smoked his pipe. She unsheathed her sword, letting light from the lamp above the door reflect off the blade. Jack caught this and nodded, and then turned his eyes upwards to the rooms around them. Grace crouched down to wait for his signal. Sound was muffled under the hood, so Grace hoped the signal would come soon. Lying in wait wasn’t something she was fond of since her sense of hearing was dampened. She rarely sat still, and more often than not she just trolled around, looking for trouble. However, this was not a time she could rush in and out. The only choice she had was to wait.

  Some time passed. Grace tried hard not to constantly shift around, but her legs ached from crouching so long. Jack refilled his pipe, watching around and above him. Grace fidgeted. She was hot, and the fabric of the hood just held her sweat and breath in. She was getting ready to rip the blasted thing off when Jack began to whistle. Finally! The signal.

  She crept forward, doing her best to keep out of the lamp light. “Up there, second floor.” Grace looked up. She saw a lit candle but didn’t see anyone. A shadow passed by the window.

  “You’re sure?” she whispered.

  “Yes, now hurry up.”

  “How do I get up there?”

  Jack was prepared to help her, but had he thought about how she was to gain entrance to the house? She couldn’t very well climb up, and no landlord or landlady in their right mind would open the door to a masked figure wielding a sword.

  Jack groaned under his breath, like he was frustrated with her. “It’s abandoned. There are a few squatters, but they won’t give you any trouble. If you walk ‘round the alleyway, you’ll find there isn’t a door in the frame. Walk in and up.”

  Grace returned to her hiding spot and moved past it, further into the alley. Sure enough, there was a door frame with no door. She stepped inside and took a moment to decipher where Harris would be in relation to her. The window with the lit candle was on the south end of the house, and the door was on the east. If the stairs didn’t have a landing and Harris didn’t extinguish the candle, it shouldn’t be too difficult to locate the room.

  Ascending the stairs, Grace removed the hood to make sure she wasn’t making too much noise and to make sure there were no noises that there shouldn’t be. At the top of the stairs she checked the floor for any creaking, put the hood back on, and continued. There were three rooms on the second floor, but only one had any light coming from under the door.

  Grace kept her sword sheathed for now. Harris had a temper – he was notorious for it – and it was what had started
this whole mess to begin with. Hurting him was not part of the plan, but he was too unpredictable not to take precautions. If Harris viewed her as a threat, he would likely attack. She prayed it wouldn’t come to violence, because if it did, her plan was pointless. She made sure her hidden knives were easy to reach and then took a deep breath before gently pushing the door open.

  Seated on the floor cradling a flask, Harris was lost in thought. He had a haggard look; his eyes sunken from lack of sleep and his hair sticking up at odd angles. His clothes were dirty, caked with dirt and other filth. Even through the hood, Grace knew he desperately needed to visit the city baths. He had obviously spent some time around the sewers. Harris nearly jumped out of his skin seeing her, although he didn’t move at first.

  Taking advantage of the moment, Grace spoke, “We need to get you someplace safe.”

  “You killed my brother!” he yelled, more from fear than anger. Now he had his wits about him again.

  Grace knew he would be armed, and she was not disappointed. At the first glint of steel, Grace slid one of the hidden knives from her sleeve. Jack had given her the sound advice to learn how to use knives and daggers in Glenbard, otherwise she would die, and she was thankful for the closeness of such a small blade now. It was easier to handle in these close quarters. If Harris came at her she’d never survive a knife fight, but she wouldn’t let him walk away without his own lasting injuries, marking him and slowing him down for Jack to catch.

  He lunged first, but apparently killing her was also something to be avoided. He barreled into her and threw her hard against the wall. His knife was only in his hand as a precaution. If he’d wanted, he could have sliced her already but he didn’t. Instead he used his weight as a weapon. Grace used the hilt of her little knife to bring it down hard on his shoulder. She’d been aiming for his head, but the charging beast moved too fast. He had his arms around her waist, making sure if he went down, she went down with him. The two tumbled in a heap with Harris firmly on top.

  He managed to kick her weapons away before clambering to his feet and running from the room. Grace didn’t have the necessary moments to recover, so she staggered up and retrieved her knife from the dirty floor before giving chase. Even through the hood, she could hear Harris pounding down the stairs and into the street. If Marcus had indeed followed her he would most certainly catch Harris now. Grace cursed and ran in the direction of the noise. She unsheathed her sword as she ran, feeling the comfort of cool steel in her hand.