Best Served Cold

If Benna had been there he’d have warned her she was taking some long chances, lately. Well, first he’d have asked who the big naked Northman was, then he’d have warned her. Putting herself in the middle of a siege, death so close she could feel it tickling at her neck. Letting her guard down even this much with a man she was meant to be paying, walking the soft line with those farmers downstairs. She was taking risks, and she felt that tingling mix of fear and excitement that a gambler can’t do without. Benna wouldn’t have liked it. But then she’d never listened to his warnings when he was alive. If the odds stand long against you, you have to take long chances, and Monza had always had a knack for picking the right ones.

Up until they killed Benna and threw her down the mountain, at least.

Shivers’ voice came out of the darkness. “How’d you come by this place, anyway?”

“My brother bought it. Long time ago.” She remembered him standing at the window, squinting into the sun, turning to her and smiling. She felt a grin tug at the corner of her own mouth, just for a moment.

Shivers didn’t turn, now, and he didn’t smile either. “You were close, eh? You and your brother.”

“We were close.”

“Me and my brother were close. Everyone that knew him felt close to him. He had that trick. He got killed, by a man called the Bloody-Nine. He got killed when he’d been promised mercy, and his head nailed to a standard.”

Monza didn’t much care for this story. On the one hand it was boring her, on the other it was making her think of Benna’s slack face as they tipped him over the parapet. “Who’d have thought we had so much in common? Did you take revenge?”

“I dreamed of it. My fondest wish, for years. I had the chance, more’n once. Vengeance on the Bloody-Nine. Something a lot of men would kill for.”

“And?”

She saw the muscles working on the side of Shivers’ head. “The first time I saved his life. The second I let him go, and chose to be a better man.”

“And you’ve been wandering round like a tinker with his cart ever since, peddling mercy to anyone who’ll take? Thanks for the offer, but I’m not buying.”

“Not sure I’m selling anymore. I been acting the good man all this time, talking up the righteous path, hoping to convince myself I done the right thing walking away. Breaking the circle. But I didn’t, and that’s a fact. Mercy and cowardice are the same, just like you told me, and the circle keeps turning, whatever you try. Taking vengeance… it might not answer no questions. It sure won’t make the world a fairer place or the sun shine warmer. But it’s better’n not taking it. It’s a damn stretch better.”

“I thought you were all set on being Styria’s last good man.”

“I’ve tried to do the right thing when I could, but you don’t get a name in the North without doing some dark work, and I done my share. I fought beside Black Dow, and Crummock-i-Phail, and the Bloody-Nine his self, for that matter.” He gave a snort. “You think you got cold hearts down here? You should taste the winters where I come from.” There was something in the set of his face she hadn’t seen before, and hadn’t expected to. “I’d like to be a good man, that’s true. But you need it the other way, then I know how.”

There was silence for a moment, while they looked at each other. Him leaning against the window frame, her sprawled on the bed with one hand behind her head.

“If you really are such a snow-hearted bastard, why did you come back for me? In Cardotti’s?”

“You still owe me money.”

She wasn’t sure if he was joking. “I feel warm all over.”

“That and you’re about the best friend I’ve got in this mad fucking country.”

“And I don’t even like you.”

“I’m still hoping you’ll warm to me.”

“You know what? I might just be getting there.”

She could see his grin in the light from beyond the window. “Letting me in your bed. Letting Furli and the rest stay in your house. If I didn’t know better I’d be thinking I’d peddled you some mercy after all.”

She stretched out. “Maybe beneath this harsh yet beautiful shell I’m really still a soft-hearted farmer’s daughter, only wanting to do good. You think of that?”

“Can’t say I did.”

“Anyway, what’s my choice? Put them out on the street, they might start talking. Safer here, where they owe us something.”

“They’re safest of all in the mud.”

“Why don’t you go downstairs and put all our minds at rest, then, killer? Shouldn’t be a problem for the hero that used to carry Black Now’s luggage.”

“Dow.”

“Whoever. Best put some trousers on first, though, eh?”

“I’m not saying we should’ve killed ’em or nothing, I’m just pointing out the fact. Mercy and cowardice are the same, I heard.”

“I’ll do what needs doing, don’t worry. I always have. But I’m not Morveer. I’m not murdering eleven farmers just for my convenience.”

“Nice to hear, I guess. All those little people dying in the bank didn’t seem to bother you none, long as one of ’em was Mauthis.”

She frowned. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“Nor the folk at Cardotti’s.”