Best Served Cold

“You got him?” asked the girl.

Monza looked at Ganmark’s corpse, kneeling spitted on the great length of bronze. “Stolicus did.”

Cosca had kicked his way as far as one of the cherry trees and sat with his back against the trunk. He looked just like a man relaxing on a summer’s day. Apart from the bloody hand pressed to his stomach. She limped up to him, stuck the Calvez point-first into the turf and knelt down.

“Let me have a look.” She fumbled with the buttons on Cosca’s jacket, but before she got the second one undone he reached up, gently took her bloody hand and her twisted one in his.

“I’ve been waiting years for you to tear my clothes off, but I think I’ll have politely to decline. I’m finished.”

“You? Never.”

He squeezed her hands tighter. “Right through the guts, Monza. It’s over.” His eyes rolled towards the gate, and she could hear the faint clattering as soldiers on the other side struggled to lever the portcullis open. “And you’ll have other problems soon enough. Four of seven, though, girl.” He grinned. “Never thought you’d make four of seven.”

“Four of seven,” muttered Friendly, behind her.

“I wish I could’ve made Orso one of them.”

“Well.” Cosca raised his brows. “It’s a noble calling, but I guess you can’t kill everyone.”

Shivers was walking slowly over from one of the doorways. He barely even glanced at Ganmark’s impaled corpse as he passed. “None left?”

“Not in here.” Friendly nodded towards the gate. “Some out there, though.”

“Reckon so.” The Northman stopped not far away. His hanging axe, his dented shield, his pale face and the bandages across one half of it were all dashed and speckled dark red.

“You alright?” asked Monza.

“Don’t rightly know what I am.”

“Are you hurt, I’m asking?”

He touched one hand to the bandages. “No worse’n before we started

… reckon I must be beloved o’ the moon today, as the hillmen say.” His eye rolled down to her bloody shoulder, her bloody hand. “You’re bleeding.”

“My fencing lesson turned ugly.”

“You need a bandage?”

She nodded towards the gateway, the noise of the Talinese soldiers on the other side getting louder with every moment. “We’ll be lucky if we get the time to bleed to death.”

“What now, then?”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. There was no use fighting, even if she’d had the strength. The palace would be swarming with Orso’s soldiers. There was no use surrendering, even if she’d been the type. They’d be lucky if they made it back to Fontezarmo to be killed. Benna had always warned her she didn’t think far enough ahead, and it seemed he’d had a point “I’ve an idea.” Day’s face had broken out in an unexpected smile. Monza followed her pointing finger, up to the roofline above the garden, and squinted into the sun. A black figure crouched there against the bright sky.

“A fine afternoon to you!” She never thought she’d be glad to hear Castor Morveer’s scraping whine. “I was hoping to view the Duke of Visserine’s famous collection and I appear to have become entirely lost! I don’t suppose any of you kind gentlefolk know where I might find it? I hear he has Bonatine’s greatest work!”

Monza jerked her bloody thumb at the ruined statue. “Not all it’s cracked up to be!”

Vitari had appeared beside the poisoner now, was smoothly lowering a rope. “We’re rescued,” grunted Friendly, in just the same tone as he might have said, “We’re dead.”

Monza hardly had the energy even to feel pleased. She hardly knew if she was pleased. “Day, Shivers, get up there.”

“No doubt.” Day tossed her bow away and ran for it. The Northman frowned at Monza for a moment, then followed.

Friendly was looking down at Cosca. “What about him?” The old mercenary seemed to have dozed off for a moment, eyelids flickering.

“We’ll have to pull him up. Get a hold.”

The convict slid one arm around his back and started to lift him. Cosca woke with a jolt, grimaced. “Dah! No, no, no, no, no.” Friendly let him carefully back down and Cosca shook his scabby head, breathing ragged. “I’m not screaming my way up a rope just so I can die on a roof. Here’s as good a place as any, and this as good a time. I’ve been promising to do it for years. Might as well keep my word this once.”

She squatted down beside him. “I’d rather call you a liar one more time, and keep you watching my back.”

“I only stayed there… because I like looking at your arse.” He bared his teeth, winced, gave a long growl. The clanging at the gate was getting louder.

Friendly offered Cosca’s sword to him. “They’ll be coming. You want this?”

“Why would I? It was messing with those things got me into this fix in the first place.” He tried to shift, winced and sagged back, his skin already carrying that waxy sheen that corpses have.

Vitari and Morveer had bundled Shivers over the gutter and onto the roof. Monza jerked her head at Friendly. “Your turn.”

He crouched there for a moment, not moving, then looked to Cosca. “Do you want me to stay?”