Nelly squeals before the blade tastes blood.
Which is great, because I was totally bluffing. Doing any more than this might put me in severe jeopardy with the Dim—for now, I'll look cruel, but not unhinged and barbaric.
"Southwest!" Nelly shrieks, squirming and scrambling at the sight of the dagger like a child avoiding a needle at the doctor's. "There's a tower! We heard he's there!"
"Heard?" I interrogate. "Heard from whom?"
"Friend of Henri's."
"Give me the name, you fucking idiot," I turn to my teammates, who stand idly concerned. "That should be a given, no? I'm not crazy for expecting a name when I ask that question, am I?"
Valeria simply stares. Freak. Nicklas eyes look upward, expressively contemplating, before giving an approving but still troubled nod. At least someone has my back.
"I think… think his name was Gabriel…" Nelly calms down as she thinks. "He joined up with Sebastian Cossa. Tried to recruit us too. Henri said it was fishy so we left."
"Gabriel of Lomberg?"
"Yeah, that's him. How do you know—"
I raise my hand. Nelly flinches and goes silent. I lower my hand. Through squinted eyes, she sees that it was just a feint and returns to ease. I ask the questions, bitch.
Henri was right: Gabriel is trouble. That Henri always did have a keen mind—a good head on his shoulders. A shame what happened to him. Head got cracked like an omelette. A real, true shame.
Jests aside, Gabriel of Lomberg is dangerous.
He's just outside the top 10. Margrave, like Henri—an upper noble scumbag. A conniving rodent that wants everything like a toddler, but has the wits to seize it.
If Gabriel's grimy paws are on this, then it's cause for concern. If he's allied with Sebastian Cossa, as Nelly says, then taking Cossa by force will become a far harder last resort.
My attention shifts back to Nelly. Shitless Nelly. Fortunately for her, I'm a saint.
"Untie her."
Nicklas fumbles the rope loose. Nelly almost can't believe I kept my word—I did say there was a chance I would let her go, didn't I? I did the probability empiracally, however.
"Congrats," I add. "Mercy. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind."
She swallows hard and staggers off without a thank you, the way a rabbit bolts when the hawk looks away. Lives are important, even the weaklings like Nicklas. Eliminating her wouldn't do anything—it isn't like she's all that important.
And she showed a sliver of spine when it counted. I like spine. Sometimes. Actually, fuck that, she made my job harder.
"Southwest," I tell Valeria and the pack mule. "Let's go."
***
The forest bleeds into hills one scrub patch at a time. Trunks thin. The air turns clean and edged; the ground rolls under my basic Dim boots. Stone humps peek like knuckles through grass.
It only takes us a day's march to reach Sebastian Cossa.
The tower sits on a rise, seemingly a leftover from Democracy—four legs of weathered steel, a boxed room at the top, the kind of firewatch tower that allowed depressed men to relish in solitude.
Now the tower is occupied by a military wannabe. The black horse. Future Swordmaster. And, hopefully, an ally.
Around the base, Cossa's people—he's seemingly amassed a group or two of his own—are busy playing pretend: canvas tents in tight rows, two prefab sheds knocked together from scavenged boards, and a palisade creeping into a ring—fresh stakes, raw wood, blisters on hands that haven't done a day's labor in their gilded lives. They're building a conscience you can see from a mile away.
No one greets us with violence. But they watch.
We stop at the mouth of the half-raised palisade. A boy with honest eyes and the kind of jaw that breaks easily straightens his back and tries to be a wall.
"Business?" he asks, voice cracking.
"Audience," I say. "Sebastian Cossa." Very simple. You need to use easy words with these… lessers. Lesser is apt. Valeria is actually quite spot on with her vocabulary choices.
"And who are you?"
"Auren,"—of fucking Ovine, you no-name bastard.
I, of course, know his name. But out of disrespect, I'm not even going to mention him. This mob character won't ever show up again.
"I'm coming here on behalf of Leara Mateiko. An envoy, of sorts."
"Really?" the low-ranked gremlin squeaks in surprise. "You sure?"
"Yes," I reply with visible confusion.
"Sorry, it's just a bit strange."
"And why is that?" Think I'm a joke? I'll kill you.
"I mean, I see you've come with Valeria Drysdale—I don't doubt you're who you say you are…"
"Then what's the issue?"
"Well… there's another 'envoy of sorts' here right now. 'Cept this one came on behalf of Prince Alexander Landeskog," he admits.
Shit.
"Who?" I ask, not letting my surprise be too evident.
"Maximillian Stamkos."
"Oh fucking great," Valeria groans far too loudly. Holy shit, be quiet. I'm doing the talking. She'd better not blow this by mouthing off.
"—Great because we are quite familiar with Max," I correct, adopting a friendlier demeanor. "Can we go see them?"
"Don't see why not," the lad shrugs. "He's at the top," the kid says. He gestures up the ladder lattice to the boxed room.
Quite lenient for an unnamed fellow on guard duty. Though I don't suppose he'd get far if he got in the habit of
Tap, tap, tap go our feet against metal as we climb. The entire time, I'm shitting bricks.
What the fuck is Maximilian Stamkos doing here? Scratch that, I know exactly what he's doing; the same thing we're doing—wooing Sebastian Cossa.
I just didn't expect Alexander to always be a step ahead. We're delayed in everything. Comes with joining the losing team, I suppose.
We reach the tower's peak. It has an incredible view over the eastern forest, the central mountain, the southern hills, and the western rocky outcroppings. The north is obscured.
I turn to the glass door.
"Wait out here Nicklas," I command. He obeys. "If anyone tries to rape you, scream."
Valeria and I enter the lion's den.
-------------------------
Authors Note:
To the few loyal readers, thank you very much. I love you. A lot. Just coming here to say that I'm going on vacation for a week, so don't abandon me if I end up not maintaining the daily upload. Thanks.
P.S. I've been contracted, but I won't be going premium till the end of this arc. Because I'm so nice.