The Crimson Campaign

“That is of no concern of yours. Play your part well and you’ll find I allow you to keep the small measure of freedom I’ve permitted. Play it poorly and I will punish you. Understand?”

“Yes,” Nila said.

“Good. Where’s the boy?”

Nila wished there was some kind of lie she could tell him. But where else would Jakob be but in his nursery? “Jakob,” she called, “come in here, please!”

The door to the nursery opened and Jakob skipped across the room. He looked up at Vetas with a smile on his face. “Hello!”

Vetas grinned at him. The expression reminded Nila of a polished skull she’d seen once in an apothecary’s shop. “Hello, my boy,” Vetas said. “How are you enjoying your new clothes?”

Jakob spun around, arms out, to show off a smart suit of a blue jacket, matching knee-length pants, and high socks. “They’re very nice,” Jakob said. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, child,” Vetas said. “I brought you something.” He stepped back into the hallway and came back with a box not much bigger than the one Nila’s boots had arrived in. Setting the box on the floor, he flipped off the top to reveal a set of wooden soldiers and horses, twenty in all.

Jakob gasped with delight and set about pulling them from the box all at once, scattering them across the floor.

“Take them to your room,” Nila said.

Jakob stopped unpacking and cast Nila a scowl. He put the toys back in and began to drag the box toward the nursery.

“Do you like them?” Vetas asked.

“Of course! Thank you, Uncle Vetas!”

“You’re welcome, child.”

Vetas’s grin disappeared the moment Jakob was out of sight. He took a sip of his wine. “Be ready in half an hour,” he said. He left the room, and Nila heard the door lock from the outside.

“Uncle Vetas,” Jakob had said.

Nila wondered how Faye planned on killing Vetas, and if perhaps Nila would get her chance first.

CHAPTER 9

Taniel hurried through the streets of Adopest, blinded by disbelief. Tamas dead? It couldn’t be. The old bastard was too stubborn to die. It was late morning and the traffic was thick, and he had to shoulder his way past pedestrians and dodge carriages and carts. He could hear Fell apologizing to the people Taniel bowled over.

Taniel paused momentarily to make sure Ka-poel was still with them. She was right beside him, faithful as his own shadow. Fell appeared out of the crowd. Of the messenger who’d found them in the mala den, there was no sign.

“Pole,” he said. “Do you know if he’s dead?”

Ka-poel seemed taken aback.

He took her by the shoulders and pulled her closer. “Did you ever make a doll of him? Do you have some kind of connection?”

Her frown cleared and she shook her head. Nothing.

“Pit.” Taniel turned around.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Fell said, coming up beside him.

“I’ll believe the old bastard is dead when I see his body,” Taniel said. He suddenly felt ill as a vision of Tamas lying cold and stiff in an open coffin filled his mind. He pushed the vision aside, but found himself leaning on Ka-poel for support.

She looked up at him with her glass-green eyes. They contained a mix of emotions: anger, confusion, sympathy, resolve. Her eyes hardened and he looked away.

“Where the pit are we, anyway?” he asked. “I don’t recognize anything.”

“Because you’ve been charging headlong through the crowds,” Fell said. “This way to the People’s Court.” She pointed east. They’d been going north.

Taniel nodded. “Lead on,” he said. He still had his hand on Ka-poel’s shoulder. She hadn’t moved it. “Pole,” he said, “I…” He stopped. His mind was a haze, but the man coming toward him along the street looked familiar. Taniel could have sworn he’d seen him hanging around Kin’s mala den. He was tall, with wide shoulders and a slight limp. Something was off about him.

The man looked up and into Taniel’s eyes. It was all the warning Taniel got.

The man took two great strides toward Taniel. He shouldered Ka-poel out of the way and then Taniel felt the man’s fist connect with his sternum. He was thrown up, above the heads of the crowd, and then tumbled to the ground, landing shoulder-first on the hard cobbles.

Taniel gasped in ragged breaths. Had his ribs been broken?

A small crowd gathered around Taniel. He heard voices asking if he was all right. A gentleman nudged Taniel’s arm with his cane. A woman screamed.

Only one kind of creature could have hit Taniel that hard.

A Warden.

Taniel snatched the gentleman’s cane, ignoring a shout of protest, and pushed himself to his feet in time to see a young woman thrown to the ground as the Warden pushed past her and grasped Taniel by the throat with both hands.

Steel jutted from the Warden’s throat and stopped mere inches from Taniel’s eyes. The Warden threw him to the ground and whirled, to reveal a stiletto jammed into the back of his neck right at the spine. The Warden gurgled, and attacked Fell, who danced out of the way quicker than Taniel would have given her credit for.