"Consider that it is good that you know of no one here against whom you might turn," Knellict said to her. He reached over and cupped her chin in his hand and gently tilted her head up.
The woman's knees wobbled when she looked into the archmage's cruel face.
"Because of course nothing that Spysong might do to you would approach the exquisite agony you would suffer at my vengeful hands. Do not ever forget that. And if you find the noose about your slender neck, will yourself to sleep, to relax completely when the trap door falls out beneath you. The clean break is better, I am told."
"B-but sir…" The poor woman stammered. She trembled so badly that had it not been for Knellict's hand against her chin, she would have wobbled across the room.
Knellict stopped her by placing the index finger of his free hand over her lips. "You have served me well again today," he said, and no words ever sounded more like a condemnation to the fitful and terrified tavern girl. "As you have since you chose to enter my employ those years ago," he added, emphasizing her complicity.
"A little extra this time," the mage went on, smiling now—and that seemed even more cruel. He let the woman go and reached to his belt, producing a small pouch that rattled with coins. "All of it gold."
For a brief moment, the woman's eyes flashed eagerly. Then she swallowed hard, though, considering how she might explain such a treasure if Spysong came calling.
Still, she took the pouch.
A cloud of smoke and the sound of coughing told King Gareth and his friends that Emelyn the Gray had at last arrived in Heliogabalus. Surprisingly, the old wizard had chosen to teleport to the king's audience hall in the city's Crown Palace, rather than in the safer—for teleportation purposes—wizard's guild on the other side of the city. And even more surprisingly, Emelyn was not alone.
All eyes—Gareth, Celedon, Kane, Friar Dugald, and Baron Dimian Ree—turned to the pair, the old wizard and a pretty young woman with a round, flat face and fiery red hair.
"Well met, troublesome one," Celedon remarked dryly. "As always, your timing nears the point of perfection."
"I did not ask for your advice, and that alone would make any of my actions less than perfect in your self-centered thinking," Emelyn countered. "If all the world obeyed only Master Kierney, then all the world would be… perfect."
"He's learning, now isn't he?" Celedon asked the others, turning back to Gareth.
Emelyn grumbled and waved his hands at the rogue, and coughed again.
"In truth, I find your timing quite favorable," Gareth said. He looked from Emelyn to his guest, the Baron of Heliogabalus, who had long been a quiet adversary. For Dimian Ree, who led Damara's most populous and important barony, was rumored to be in league with the Citadel of Assassins to some extent, and so it didn't surprise Gareth and his friends to find the agitated man banging on their door that morning to complain vociferously about the multiple hangings that Gareth's men were carrying out in his fair city.
"Baron Ree," Emelyn said, rather coldly, and he did not dip a bow.
"Gray one," Ree responded.
"Our friend the baron has come to protest the justice we have brought to his city," Friar Dugald explained.
"I only just arrived," Emelyn prompted.
"Spysong has encountered many agents of the Citadel of Assassins," King Gareth explained. "They brazenly attacked an apprentice knight of the order."
"That Entreri creature?"
"Precisely him," said Gareth. "But our enemies overplayed their hand this time. They did not know that Master Kane and Celedon were about, along with many allies."
"And you're hanging them? Well, good! And what of this matter might Baron Ree find objectionable, I must ask? Are any of his former lovers swinging by their necks?"
"You would do well to weigh carefully your words before uttering them, gray one," Dimian Ree said, drawing a dismissive scoff from the archmage.
"And you would do better to remember that the only reason I did not utterly destroy you with the fall of Zhengyi was because of the mercy of that man sitting on the throne before you," Emelyn countered, beside him the woman shuffled and glanced about, nervous.
"Enough, Emelyn," commanded King Gareth. "And the rest of you." He looked at them all alternately and sternly, letting his gaze fall at last over the angry baron. "Baron Ree, Heliogabalus is your city, to be sure. But your city lies within my kingdom. I do not ask for your permission to enter."
"And you would always be welcomed as my guest, my king."
"I am not your guest when I come to Heliogabalus," Gareth answered. "That is your basic misunderstanding here. When your king comes to Heliogabalus, you are his guest."
That brought a widening of eyes all around the room, and Dimian Ree began stepping nervously from foot to foot, like a fox caught against a stone wall with dogs fast approaching.
"And when I offer my resources, as with Spysong, to aid you in keeping your fair city safe, you would do well to express your appreciation."
Dimian Ree swallowed hard and didn't blink.
But Gareth didn't blink, either. "Pray do so and be gone," he said.
Ree glanced about, mostly at Kane then Emelyn, the two members of Gareth's band most antagonistic toward him—openly at least.
"The king is waiting for you, fool," came a booming voice from the back of the hall, and all turned to see the bearlike figure of Olwen Forest-friend and the lithe Riordan Parnell, the missing two of Gareth's band of seven, standing by the door.
"Go on, then," Olwen commanded, coming forward with great, long strides, and seeming even more ominous because he carried his mighty axe Treefeller in one of his large hands. "Tell your king how grateful you be, and how all your city will dance the streets tonight knowing they are more safe because of his arrival."
Dimian Ree turned on Gareth. "Of course, my king. I only wish I had been invited to the hangings, or that my city guards had been informed of the many battles before they were waged about our streets."
"And they'd be flipping gold pieces to see what side to join," Emelyn muttered to the woman at his side, but loud enough for the others to hear, drawing muted chuckles from all—except for Gareth, and Dimian Ree, of course, who glared at him.
"And it would have been even more interesting to see how many of the doomed prisoners looked to their baron for clemency," Emelyn said, taking up the dare of that look.
"Enough," Gareth demanded. "Good Baron Ree, I pray you be on your way, and I thank you for your… advice. Your complaints are duly noted."
"And discarded," said Emelyn, and Gareth glared at him.
"And how long might Heliogabalus be honored by your presence, my king?" Dimian Ree asked too sweetly.
Gareth looked to Kane, who nodded. "Our time here is nearly ended, I expect," Gareth answered.
"Indeed," Emelyn added, turning Gareth his way yet again. The mage tilted his head to indicate the woman at his side, and Gareth got the message. "Baron," he said, and he stood and motioned toward the door.
Dimian Ree paused for just a moment, then bowed, turned, and walked from the hall. Before he had even departed, all of the friends descended on Olwen, patting him on the back and offering their condolences over the loss of Mariabronne the Rover, the ranger who had been as a son to him.
"I will know Mariabronne's final tale, in full," Olwen promised.
"And I have brought with me one who might tell you some of that tale," said Emelyn, and he led the others to look at the woman, who still stood off to the side. "I give you Lady Arrayan of Palishchuk."