Agent of the Dragon

By the time the server left, Bryan and Rian had calmed down. Rhysa turned to Rian. “Bryan, here,” she tapped his arm, “tells me you gave him his dagger.”

Rian nodded. “He told me he’d said something about that to you.”

“You received it on the job? Someone attacked the person you were protecting? He must have been good to have afforded that dagger. Was it part of a matching set?”

Rian’s response was careful, though Rhysa didn’t get the sense he was suspicious, only that there were certain things he’d been forbidden to reveal. “It was. Someone else got the sword.”

“And was he good?”

“Very good, except the attacker was a woman.”

“A woman! Really? I didn’t think there were any good fighters who were women.”

“Are you kidding?” Rian’s voice was astounded. “One of the best fighters in this kingdom was a woman. She was killed in that explosion last year. You heard of Lady Kasteryn?”

“Of course I have. Who hasn’t? After all, the Royals pronounced the explosion as assassination. I just didn’t realize she was any good. I thought the stuff I heard was just the usual ‘speak no ill of the dead’ thing.”

“Oh, no. She was very good.” He paused as the server returned with the drinks. “I’ve no doubt, in a few years, history will describe her as one of the best fighters the kingdom has ever known. I’ve always admired her. She was a role model for me when I was younger. Still is to some extent. I’d heard she had a couple of protégés. I’d like to try my hand against one of them one-on-one.”

The irony choked Rhysa. She drank from her mug to loosen her throat. “You don’t know who they are?”

He shook his head. “I only know one of them was designated her heir. That one must have stepped in as the new Lady Kasteryn. I know nothing about the other. I’m not even sure if the other one was a man or a woman.”

Bryan spoke up. “So this woman who attacked your charge could have been the missing protégé?”

Rian winced. “I hope not. I truly hope not.”

Rhysa was surprised at Rian’s response, but Bryan asked first. “Why not?”

Rian glanced around as if checking to be sure no one was near enough to overhear. Even so, he lowered his voice. “As I said, she was good. I was having a difficult time with her. Just when I thought she had the upper hand, she seemed to hesitate. I took advantage of it and ran her through the stomach. When she didn’t move, I realized she’d been held with magic.” He drained his mug. “It was not one of my proudest moments.”

There was a brief silence around the table as each person absorbed what Rian had said. A gut wound was survivable, but only if there was someone nearby who could get you patched up quickly. Rhysa tried not to think about the pain Elise must have felt until she died.

Rian spoke into their silence. “I wanted to give her a mercy strike. I hate to leave anyone suffering like that. But my charge was already too far away for me to protect adequately if there were any other attackers. I ran after her to make sure she got away safely.” He looked in his mug and, finding it empty, signaled the server to bring another. “After my charge was safe, I went back to see if I could find out who the attacker was. Someone had already cleaned up.” He gestured to Bryan’s dagger. “Except for that. It had been disarmed early in the fight, and had skidded between a couple of crates. Out of sight unless you were looking for it. Even the blood had been cleaned up. Only a few chipped crates that could have been damaged in transit remained.”

Bryan grunted and seemed content to let it go, but Rhysa needed to know more. “Who was your charge?”

“She called herself Rastel. I doubt that was her real name.”

“Aren’t you in her service?”

“No. I’m freelance. I was contracted for a specific period of time.” He paused. “The attacker called her Emylie. That’s probably why I think Rastel wasn’t her real name.” He smiled when the server placed a refilled mug in front of him, then turned back to Rhysa and Bryan. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. It’s just the whole thing doesn’t sit right with me.”

“I can imagine,” said Bryan. Rhysa said nothing, but found she respected Rian, despite the fact he as much as admitted he’d killed Elise. She and Elise had both known either could die without warning given the type of life they’d chosen to live. Now she knew Elise was dead and how. She also knew that Rian regretted having killed her in the manner he had; there was even a bit of resentment in the way he’d told her someone had stepped in with magic, as if it had been an honorable fight until that point. Grief scoured her heart, but didn’t immobilize her.

Rhysa’s mind examined what Rian just said. Elise had called his charge Emylie. It could have been Lady Hermestus, but Emylie wasn’t an unusual name. There were at least three women by that name in the nobility of Mestin Reach, not including Lady Hermestus. Given that Elise had been asked to find Emylie Hermestus, though, the chances Rian had been guarding someone else was slim--and he’d been escorting her through a place with crates. “There were crates? You were in a shop?”

Rian chuckled. “No. We were in a warehouse down....” He stopped abruptly, and gave her a sharp look. “That’s something I can’t talk about.”

Rhysa shrugged as if it were an unimportant detail. “Sorry. I was just curious.” She took Bryan’s arm and snuggled against it.

Rian relaxed. “It’s not a problem. Sometimes a job requires that we don’t talk about what we see or where we see it.”

“Oh. Well. I won’t ask anymore about it, then.”

He grinned. “That’s fine.” He took a sip from his mug. “Bryan tells me you’re interested in bodyguarding?”

She let go of Bryan’s arm and leaned forward. “I’m not sure if bodyguarding is the exact field. I’m decent with sword and daggers, and I enjoy using my skill. Bodyguard is one thing I could do. Military is another. As is becoming a mercenary.”

“Hmm. No preference?”

“I have no experience to prefer one over another.”

“And smart enough to know it. Well, there are many kinds of bodyguards. Bryan’s one. I’m another.”

Rhysa managed to stay interested in a topic she already knew well. She asked questions she’d asked Lady Kasteryn, and received the same answers from Rian. The three of them talked about being a bodyguard for a couple of hours. When she rose to leave, Bryan rose, too. She hugged and kissed him, making sure to put enough trembling in it to flatter him.

Back in her apartments, after going a couple rounds with Kiinzhal, followed by a light meal, Rhysa washed and changed back into a dressing gown. She read history from Elise’s room. Rian had said he’d encountered Elise in a warehouse. He’d almost said where, but stopped short. In a port town, a location described as ‘down’ usually meant near the water. It was a reasonable assumption, then, the warehouse was near the docks.

Several warehouses had been used as staging areas for many of the participants. They were spread out so the participants were effectively grouped into resistance cells. A few staging warehouses were located near the docks. Rhysa thought Elise must have been searching all the warehouses listed in the book, and had stumbled on something indicating Emylie was part of the planned coup.

Rhysa shook her head. That didn’t make sense. If Elise had known enough about Emylie to know of her connection with The Primacy, she would have gone to Bryn with what she knew, and let Bryn handle it. Rian had given the impression Elise was attacking Emylie--an action directly counter to Bryn’s commission to find his wife.

Something had happened to Elise between starting to search for Emylie and finding her, but Rhysa couldn’t come up with even the simplest of theories as to what. She set aside the book and went to bed.

By the time Rhysa left Venusia’s the next day, she felt she was starting to understand what Venusia was trying to teach her. The odd mixture of satiation and frustration was still there, but it bothered her less. Instead of seeking the solace of working out, she began searching the dockside warehouses listed in Elise’s book.

Rian had mentioned magic; Rhysa decided to treat her search as an exercise in infiltration. When she could see the first of the warehouses, she invoked Sight. Some of the garments of passersby began to glow, but she saw nothing from the warehouse she was investigating.

She turned down an alley a couple of buildings away. The bricks and windows of one of the buildings provided easy handholds. She climbed to the roof of the building and, keeping low and silent, she made her way to the edge closest to the warehouse. A brief burst of internal energy allowed her to jump to the next building. She couldn’t land silently, but was quiet enough no one inside would hear unless they were specifically listening in an absolutely silent room. When she reached the other side of the roof, she lay on her stomach to peek over the lip. Across the next alley was the warehouse.

She still couldn’t see anything magical about the structure. The building was long and wide. From the street, she’d seen the wide loading doors could easily fit two freight wagons side by side. The doors were also two stories high, and were undoubtedly heavy. From her current position, she saw a normal side door at ground level. The only windows she could see were just under the roofline and meant only for light. Now way to open them without breaking or cutting.

She blinked against sudden brightness as clouds passed from in front of the sun. It gave her an idea. She climbed down between the building she’d scouted from and the warehouse. The brightness would make the shadows between the buildings darker.

She kept her movements smooth, and quickly had the door open. The lockpicks she’d used disappeared into an arm-sheath; she went inside and closed the door behind her.

She was obviously in the main storage area. It was a single huge room, three stories high and wide enough to fit two of the merchant vessels she’d seen in the bay. It was also very empty; the day scent of dust tickled her nose. The wall to her right spanned the width of the warehouse, but there was a door halfway across. When she tried it, she found it unlocked. On the other side was a landing and a set of stairs going up. On either side of the landing were doors.

A quick glance through the doors revealed them to be barracks style quarters for workers and a cafeteria style dining area. Both had the long air of disuse, the dust thick on the furniture. She made her way up the stairs, testing each carefully for any hint of give that would result in noise. At the top of the silent stairs, she faced the back wall of the warehouse. A hall ran to the left and right from where she stood. A quick exploration revealed a couple of offices, an empty room that might have held shelves judging by the marks on the floor, and another bedroom--perhaps for a foreman, or someone who oversaw the workers housed below. Rhysa took no extra precautions with this warehouse. She left quickly and made sure to lock the door after she’d left.

The second and third warehouses she checked, though currently empty, did not have the feeling of disuse. Rather they felt like building closed up while the owners were off purchasing items to fill it. The fourth warehouse was different.

From her vantage in the fading light on top of the neighboring building, Rhysa saw people leaving and entering through the side door. Rhysa decided to leave this warehouse for the next day. She turned away to leave, but before she took a step, she heard a familiar voice.

She peeked over the edge. A woman stood silhouetted in the door below. “Don’t take too long with those supplies. The only way we can deal with her is the same way we dealt with the other. The trap has to be set and ready before she gets close to us.” The voice was too familiar.

Rhysa barely heard the, “Yes, ma’am,” from one of the workers. Emylie had deliberately baited Elise into following, then sprung a trap. A deliberate effort to kill. Now she planned to do the same thing with Rhysa, and Rhysa did not believe Emylie had forgotten Rhysa’s skills. Whatever Emylie had planned would take magic into account. Rhysa had to let Hallyk know.

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