“Perhaps we can.”
Their eyes met, and in that moment Grinsa knew: she and the singer had been lovers.
“I don’t think so,” she told him. She nodded toward Tavis. “I see his scars, and I see the way both of you draw blades at the least hint of danger. You’re no friend of his.”
The gleaner considered denying this, but he didn’t bother. She wouldn’t have believed him.
“It’s important that we find him, my lady.”
“Did he give those scars to the boy?”
“He didn’t wield the blade, but he’s as responsible for them as anyone. Does that surprise you?”
She shrugged, looking off to the side. “Not really. But it tells me that the boy must have wronged him in some way.”
“I didn’t,” Tavis said, his voice hard and low. “I did nothing to him, and he killed the one-”
Grinsa laid a hand on his arm, stopping him. “It’s all right,” he whispered.
“Who did he kill?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“My lady-”
“Tell me.”
“He killed someone dear to my friend here. That’s all you need to know.”
“But he would have had a reason. He doesn’t kill for the sake of killing. I know him better than that.”
“You’re right,” Tavis said savagely. “He doesn’t do it for the sake of killing. He murders for gold.”
Abruptly, she lifted a hand to her mouth, taking a sharp breath. “Gods!” she whispered, recognition in her eyes. “I had thought he might be a mercenary, or perhaps a thief. But it never occurred to me. . He’s an assassin.”
“What can you tell us of your time with him?” Grinsa asked.
“I’m not certain I want to tell you anything.”
Tavis glared at her. “He kills for money. And still you protect him?”
“I didn’t know him as a killer. I knew him as a musician, and as. . as a friend.”
Grinsa gestured toward the tavern door. “Can we sit together and speak of this, my lady? My friend can be a bit too direct, but he does make a point. You may care for this man, you may even love him, but that doesn’t change who and what he is. You say that you know him as a singer; you may have known him to be kind as well. But I assure you that in time, he’ll kill again.”
“I saw him fight,” she said, making no move toward the tavern. “We were returning to Ailwyck from Fanshyre, and we were attacked by road brigands. He was going to let them take the gold.” She let out a small laugh. “If he was an assassin, the gold would have meant nothing to him. But when the men started to threaten my sister and me, he stopped them.” She swallowed, shaking her head. “There were five of them, and he bested them all without any help from the rest of us. I’d never seen anything like it. He seemed almost. . crazed, as if once he began to kill them, he couldn’t stop himself. I knew then that he had to be so much more than just a singer.”
Grinsa and Tavis exchanged a look, the lord looking pallid and terribly young.
“What name did he use?” the gleaner asked.
“Corbin.” She narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t that his real name?”
“It’s not the name by which we know him.”
“Maybe we’re speaking of different men,” she said, clearly wanting to believe this.
“No. It’s the same man.”
She seemed to shiver. A moment later she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to go inside, my lady?”
“What name did he give you?”
The gleaner hesitated, uncertain of whether he should tell her, though he couldn’t say why. “Cadel,” he told her at last.
“Cadel,” she repeated, giving a slight shake of her head.
“How did you meet him? Was it in Ailwyck?”
“No. We met them several years ago. In Thorald.”
“Them?” But even as Grinsa asked, he knew the answer. The other assassin, the man Cresenne had sent after him, the man he had killed in Kentigern Wood.
“Yes. Corbin and his friend, Honok.” She had been looking off again, but now her eyes snapped back to his. “Did Honok lie about his name, too?”
The gleaner was certain that he had, but the man had given him the same alias, and he sensed that she needed to hear this. “I knew him as Honok as well.”
“Honok wasn’t with him anymore when he came to Ailwyck. Corbin said that they had parted ways some time back, though he told me they were still friends.”
He saw no reason to tell her what had really happened to Honok. “So, was it mere chance that brought you both to Ailwyck, or?. .” He stopped, the full import of what she had said finally reaching him. “You met him in Thorald?”
“Yes. My sister and I were traveling with the Revel, and-”
“When?”
“I told you, several years ago.”
“What year exactly?”
Her brow furrowed. “I guess it would be three years ago.” She nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Three years.”
Grinsa turned to Tavis, who was already watching him.
“Filib,” the young lord said.
The woman nodded. “Yes. It was the year Filib the Younger. .” The color fled from her cheeks and she reached out to steady herself against the wall of the tavern. “Demons and fire! He killed Filib, didn’t he?”
“We don’t know that,” Grinsa told her, though there was little doubt in his mind. Marston of Shanstead was right. The conspiracy had been striking at the Eandi courts for years now, though the nobles and their Qirsi allies had been painfully slow to realize it.
“But that’s what you think.”
“You see now why we have to find him,” Tavis said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Whatever he was to you, he’s also a killer. I lost the woman I was to marry. Thorald lost its duke and Eibithar its future king. We have to find him before he murders again.”
“So you intend to kill him.”
Grinsa winced, fearing that now she would refuse to help them. But the woman surprised him.
“You’d better have more than mists and winds, Qirsi,” she said, eyeing the gleaner. “Because blade to blade, the two of you won’t stand a chance against him.”
“You followed him here from Ailwyck,” Grinsa said. “Do you think he might have gone farther north?”
“I don’t know where he went. I came north because there’s little in Wethyrn’s southern cities to attract a musician. Krasthem is a minor city, with few good taverns, and Olfan is little more than that. Ailwyck, Duvenry, Jistingham-those are the places I’d go, were I looking to find taverns in which to sing.”
“What about Strempfar, or Helke?”
“Helke, maybe,” she said. “It’s smaller than some of the other cities, but the port is always busy, and seamen tend to like music when they put in to land.”
Grinsa nodded. “Thank you, my lady. You’ve told us more than we had any right to expect.”
She said nothing and after a lengthy silence, Tavis and Grinsa shared a look and turned to go.
“You were right before,” she said. “He could be kind when he wasn’t killing. And he sang with a voice that came from Adriel herself.”
“Did the brigands hurt you?” Tavis asked.
“No, nor did they hurt my sister. But her husband is still recovering from the beating they gave him.”
“I’m sorry. I hope he heals quickly.”
“From the looks of your face, it seems that you suffered mightily for what Corbin did to you. You must hate him very much.”
“More than I can say.”
Grinsa sensed that they were now straying into dangerous terrain, and he thought it time to end their conversation. “Again, my lady, you have our thanks.”
“Will you continue to search for him?” Tavis asked her.
The woman shook her head. “I’ve already been away from my sister for too long, and I’ve nearly run out of gold. Even if he is in Helke, I haven’t the means to get there. And I’m not certain I want to be anywhere near the two of you when next you meet.”
“No,” Tavis said. “I don’t believe you do.”
She glanced at the gleaner, her expression grim, her cheeks still pale. Then she left them, walking quickly down the narrow lane that led back to Duvenry’s marketplace.