“Two feet isn’t deep enough to catch a deer, let alone a dragon!” one man complained to Lucy. “How does Notwen expect that to hold Fyremantle?”
Since Lucy could not answer that with any truth, she shrugged, grabbed a shovel, and started to dig.
The hole was well underway when the Dark Knights rode into town. A sentry by the caravan road spotted them late in the afternoon and sent word to the sheriff. Lucy swiftly dusted off her clothes and sent a boy to the closest tavern for a pitcher of ale and a couple of mugs. Her workers vanished into the alleys and ruins of the derelict street.
By the time the Dark Knights rode into sight, the street was empty and Lucy was sitting in the shade of an old abandoned shop, sipping her ale and waiting. Up the road from the docks rode Knight Officer Venturin and four Knights. Their black armor and horses looked like dark stains against the colors and bright light of the afternoon. Light glinted off their swords and the maces hanging on their belts. They were riding directly for the festival site.
Knight Officer Venturin hid her surprise well when she stopped her horse at the edge of the large pit and looked around. Finally she leveled a glare at Lucy. With deliberate care, the Dark Knight dismounted. She clucked her tongue and walked slowly to Lucy. She paced around the seated sheriff, studying her from turban to boots. Her lips parted to reveal the tips of her long teeth, and she grinned like a feral cat. Without warning she clamped a hand around Lucy’s neck and hauled her to her feet.
“I came to be sure the tax collection is going smoothly. Visiting Day is only week away, and I would hate to report to Her Majectic Queen that you have failed in your duties.”
Lucy twisted out of Venturin’s grip. “The taxes are being collected,” she said, ignoring the pain in her neck. “All of them. As required by law.” Instead of backing away from the Dark Knight, she picked up another mug, filled it, and handed it to Venturin. “So tell me. How much tax does Malys require?”
The Knight Officer’s dark eyes narrowed, and her hand tightened around the mug. “Six hundred steel pieces or its equivalent—no less, as you well know.”
“Actually, I don’t,” Lucy paused and filled her own mug. “This town has been paying a thousand steel pieces to Fyremantle for the past five years. They have it on record.”
“What?” The word came out sharp as a dagger.
“Fyremantle has been doing some creative collecting at Malys’s expense. He told the council Malys raised the taxes. Did you know about this?”
Venturin took a swallow of her ale as if her throat was suddenly dry.
“Yes,” Lucy went on. “The town might have gone on in blissful ignorance if someone hadn’t stolen the taxes a few months ago. When we finally caught up with him, he told us about the padded taxes. Now, maybe Malys doesn’t care if her minions indulge in a little theft and extortion, but if one does it, they might all decide to help themselves, and then where would the Overlord get her revenues?”
“How do we know you are not shorting the taxes yourselves and trying to blame it on a faithful servant?” Venturin snarled.
“Why would we be that stupid? Flotsam has faithfully paid its taxes to Malys’s coffers for years and will continue to do so if Fyremantle does not level the town,” Lucy pointed out.
Venturin made a rude noise. “And what do you plan to do about him? Drop him in this little hole?”
“Offer him a deal. He continues to serve Malys as usual, but he stops skimming off our taxes and leaves us alone.”
The Knight Officer’s curiosity was piqued. “What makes you think he’ll accept that?”
“Because I am going to tell him you are on your way to inform Malys, and only a secret, coded message from me will stop you. From then on, you are in on the secret, too.”
“Why should I bother? Deal with him yourself.”
“How would it look to Malys if someone else told her? Someone besides her loyal watchdogs?”
Venturin bristled. “Are you threatening me?” Her voice was cold and smooth as ice.
“Of course not,” Lucy said. “I am authorized to make you a deal.”
A sharp cry and a scuffling sound caused Venturin to whip around, her hand reaching for her sword. She gaped at the five riderless black horses milling around in the dust of the street. There was no sign of the other four Knights. Furiously, she turned back, her hand pulling out her dagger. Swift as a striking snake, she snatched a handful of Lucy’s hair and the turban and shoved Lucy back against the stone wall of the building.
The turban unwound in the blink of an eye and whipped its length up the Dark Knight’s arm. She cried out in disbelief, “Get this thing off me!” She tried to stab the flying end of the turban, but the creature was too fast for her. It twisted itself around her wrists and her head, effectively binding her. The dagger fell to the ground.
Now it was Lucy’s turn to take control. She pushed the woman around and into the stone wall and said, “Listen carefully. Your men will be our guests for a few days. If you make any move to rescue them, they will be killed. If you act as our messenger and we tell Fyremantle you are going to Malys’s lair to inform her of his transgressions, then I will release your Knights unharmed and turn over five percent of the monies we are gathering to pay Malys.”
The Knight Officer was breathing heavily, her face cold with anger.
“Release her,” Lucy told the turban. Like a whisper, it unwound from the Knight’s head, flowed back to Lucy’s arm, curled up on her chestnut hair, and stared malevolently at Venturin.
The Dark Knight shook her head as if to be sure the thing was gone. She studied Lucy for a long moment and glanced back at the street where her Knights had been. Finally she picked up her dagger and shoved it back in its sheath. “All right. Ten percent.” Venturin’s mercenary bent took over. “And if you so much as bruise one of my Knights, I’ll burn this town myself.”
“Seven,” countered Lucy. “With luck you won’t have to go far.”
“Eight will buy my silence about this little affair.”
“So will fear, but it’s a deal.”
“How do I know you are not lying about all of this?”
“You don’t. But what is there to lose? If our plan fails, you go to Malys about Fyremantle. We will provide the information you need and the location of his lairs. You will have done your duty in bringing a malefactor to her attention. If we succeed, you will be rich.”
“Where is this alleged money coming from?”
“Ah,” Lucy said with a slight smile. “We can’t tell you everything.”
The Dark Knight shot a quick look at the turban, then she turned on her heel and strode to her horse.
“Be here at dawn on Visiting Day,” Lucy called after her.
Venturin did not respond. Stone-faced, she collected the reins of the loose horses and mounted her own. She spurred her mount to a canter and led the riderless cavalcade away. The sound of hooves pounded on the road and dwindled away toward the west end of town.
Lucy leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. As the dust settled, the workers warily poked their heads out from the windows, doors, and ruinous gaps of the old buildings.
Challie came out the doorway of a gaming house several blocks down the road and joined Lucy. A faint smirk tilted up her mouth. “They’re trussed like chickens and spitting mad. Lysandros’s men have the Knights in a safe room under the Game Cock. He says his guards will keep an eye on them.”
The sheriff grinned, remembering the look on Venturin’s face when she realized her Talon had vanished. “That should sour her wine for a while.”
Challie picked up a shovel and drove it into the dirt. “I just hope this works, because if it doesn’t, there’s going to be some dragon-sized trouble.”
The paddleboat arrived later than expected. It came chugging into the harbor under full steam, pulling a laden raft and aided by teams of powerful, sleek dolphins. Ulin saw Lucy and Challie standing on the wharf and waved to them. He was off the boat and running toward Lucy before the boat had come to a complete stop.