"I'll bring him to you alive or in pieces," shouted Rusk. "Just give me the damned, bloody scrolls so I can heal this wound!"
"I've seen the scrolls," said Stannis coyly. "In fact, I have read some singularly interesting passages in them. I did not, however, notice an extra arm among the leaves."
"This is your fault!" thundered Rusk, taking a step toward the pool. Blood from his half-healed stump spattered on the floor.
"Have a care, Huntmaster. You are soiling my favorite rug," cautioned Stannis. "Mulhorandi, and quite expensive."
Rusk lunged toward the water's edge.
Before he made it, a dark figure blurred toward him and spun Rusk aside. A long blade pierced his biceps and thrust him against a marble pillar. Rusk roared and thrashed, but he was pinned.
At the sword's other end stood a man with long, dark hair tied loosely at his neck. His pale skin was smooth and unblemished but for a trio of tiny moles beside his left eye. His plum-dark lips were impassively composed. A black silk shirt showed through the slashes of his dark purple doublet. Like the fitted leggings and thigh-length boots, they were precisely fitted to his body. The man's sword arm extended fully above a perfectly bent knee. His large black eyes looked calmly into Rusk's.
"My brother is rather protective of family," said Stannis. "May I suggest you exercise restraint?"
Rusk growled in response, but the sound gradually transformed into a deep chuckle. He glanced at the fresh wound in his remaining arm. Within seconds, the blood stopped trickling, and the flesh rejoined around the blade.
"You can't hurt me with mortal weapons," he said. "Mine is the Black Blood. I am a child of Malar."
"If Radu had intended to visit permanent harm upon you," said Stannis, "I would already be deprived of the novelty of your company."
Darrow never saw the motion, but suddenly Radu was leaning against the bigger man. His right hand held the pinioning sword in place, while the left pressed a slim white dagger against the cleric's throat. Rusk blanched at the weapon's touch.
Stannis clapped his rubbery hands and hooted. "Do you recognize it?"
"A bone blade," gasped Rusk, careful of moving his throat. "I told you about them when we were boys. "
"Can you feel its desire?" crooned Stannis. "Does it call to you, my old friend? Does it yearn for your spirit?"
Rusk's jaw barely moved. Darrow could see that it would take Radu only the barest motion to cut Rusk's throat.
"While Radu disdains the use of enchanted weapons," explained Stannis, "he understands the need for the proper tool-a tool for dealing with problems."
Rusk bristled as the dagger shifted slightly.
"You aren't a problem," said Stannis, "are you, Rusk?"
Rusk hesitated only briefly before responding. "No. No problem."
Radu withdrew before Rusk could counterattack. He returned the bone blade to its sheath at the small of his back, then wiped his long sword clean with a white handkerchief before returning the blade to its plain leather scabbard. He dropped the soiled cloth carelessly on the floor.
"You, too, are hurt only by enchanted weapons…" Stannis said, considering the vanishing wound on Rusk's arm. He turned to Radu. "Dear brother, did you not once say that Talbot Uskevren shares your affectation for plain steel?"
Radu looked loath to speak. "I did," he said. Darrow saw Radu's eyes narrow slightly as he looked at his inhuman brother. Whatever business Stannis had with Rusk, it was news to Radu.
"He had an enspelled blade in the playhouse," said Rusk. "After I released him from the cage, he dropped through a trapdoor and-"
"He was in a cage when you arrived?"
"He is… unusual," said Rusk. "I wished to learn-"
"He put himself in the cage? Did you send a messenger ahead with a request that he should bind and gag himself as well?" pressed Stannis.
"It's a common reaction among the reborn," said Rusk. His rough voice was becoming irritable, almost petulant. "He feared the change, so he-"
"Are you telling us," interrupted Stannis, "that you found Talbot Uskevren in a cage, released him, watched him escape through a trapdoor, and let him lop off your arm with a stage prop?"
Rusk glared at both Malveens, and Darrow saw the muscles in the Huntmaster's back tense.
"He tricked me," spat Rusk. "Besides, you didn't tell me he was dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Radu fixed his gaze on Stannis. "Talbot Uskevren?"
"You and he do have the same sword master," observed Stannis.
"He is a playhouse buffoon," said Radu.
"Perhaps," said Stannis. "But he's proven formidable in his way. To take off Rusk's arm like that… well, perhaps we've underestimated this boy."
"We?" said Radu, raising one eyebrow almost imperceptibly.
Stannis glided toward the center of the pool, his chain veil tinkling where it dragged in the water. "Perhaps the Huntmaster wishes to retire after his ordeal, hmm? Visiting the city can be a daunting experience for rural folk."
"What I want," said Rusk, "is what you promised me."
"We shall discuss it tomorrow evening," said Stannis, keeping his eyes on Radu, who looked back with a steady gaze. "Until then, please avail yourself of our humble accommodations-but not here, in the River Hall. You will find the other buildings are not warded-and I trust you will not continue to test the protections on this one. Not all of them are so forgiving as those you triggered."
Rusk hesitated, considering whether to repeat his demands. One more glance at Radu persuaded him to keep quiet. Reluctantly, he turned and left the way he came.
When Rusk was gone, Darrow expected his own dismissal-or worse-but the Malveen brothers spoke as if they were alone.
"How rude Rusk has become," said Stannis. "As a younger man he always-"
"What have you done?" said Radu. "Who was that monster?"
"I was so hoping to keep it a surprise," said Stannis with a sigh. "Rusk is an old friend of the family, one I had all but forgotten until Pietro encountered him last month."
"The hunting accident."
"Indeed. Qur little brother would have been among the devoured had he not mentioned the family name in Rusk's hearing. Fortunately, the Huntmaster remembered his association with our great-uncle. It was his pack the boys encountered in the Arch Wood. Among the survivors was Talbot Uskevren, grandson of our old business partner, Aldimar."
"I told you to forget about Aldimar. The Uskevren are no threat to us."
"They are the very reason for our present state!" Stannis wheezed as he grew more agitated. "Thamalon could have saved mother from her persecutors, but he… he turned her away like a common criminal!"
"She was a criminal," said Radu, "and the Uskevren were recovering from their own scandal. They could ill afford to harbor a condemned pirate."
"They grew rich while she took the greater risks."
"That was Aldimar. The same people who persecuted our mother killed him."
"It isn't enough!" said Stannis. "We suffered far worse for our mother's crimes, while Thamalon escaped all harm. He has already regained everything the Uskevren lost, while you and I must cower in the shadows, scraping shoulders with the scum of Selgaunt just to keep Laskar and Pietro fed and clothed."
"It is precisely because of our brothers that we must walk the shadows," said Radu. "Nothing is more important than restoring them to their rightful place. Never forget that."
"It isn't fair," complained Stannis. The petulant tone sounded incongruous coming from such a huge, unearthly figure. "I remain a prisoner in the ruin of our family estate."
"You were reborn into darkness," said Radu, "and in darkness you will remain. Do not make the mistake of forcing me to choose between you and our brothers."
"Radu! Have I not been your good and faithful confidant? Have I not shared your own dark secrets with sympathy and fidelity?"