A Sellsword's Will Read online

  She turned back sharply at that, staring at him, and he felt his face heat. “I mean…that is…if you think it would be okay…”

  “Okay?” she asked. “Oh, Gryle.” She pulled him into a hug, and Gryle felt sadness well up in him at how frail, how thin she felt. “That’s better than okay. You’ve just made my day, and that’s the truth.”

  When she finally released him, Gryle saw that there were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling. “He loves you, you know.”

  Gryle was not ashamed of the tears that fell from his own eyes then, for they were not tears of sadness or pain, but joy, and he turned back to watch the boys, a smile on his face.

  Chapter

  Four

  You should really be at the meeting. It was Co’s voice, speaking into his mind, but Aaron was barely listening.

  He breathed in the smell of grass and leather and sweat as he watched the three soldiers step into the fighting ring to join him. It was a familiar smell, and he reveled in it. Here, among the other soldiers, his sword a reassuring weight in his hand, he was able to forget, for a brief time, what it was they faced. It was only here, his thoughts focused on his next strike, his next parry, that he could let the face of the young girl he’d killed fade from his mind.

  Aaron, Co said, you have to let it go. As for Kevlane…we will come up with some way to defeat him. Caleb, surely, will think of so—

  Caleb is a kid, Firefly, Aaron thought back. A genius but a kid for all that. Less than a month ago, he was scrubbing floors in a tavern. Intelligence Virtue or not, he’s still just a thirteen-year-old boy.

  Still, Co continued, there must be some way. And you facing off against three men—in what seems to be an effort to get yourself hurt in an impossible match—will not solve anything.

  Not impossible, Firefly, he thought back as he watched the three soldiers ready their dulled blades. Since making it back to Perennia, Aaron had been training harder than he ever had before, even when he’d lived with Darrell, and he had also been focusing on growing the power of his bond with the Virtue. After all, in the days to come they would need any advantage they could get. The three men started to circle him, looking for a way to surround him, but Aaron didn’t give them a chance.

  He rushed toward the nearest, his own dulled blade leading. The man hadn’t been expecting him to charge, and was caught off guard. He parried frantically, but wasn’t able to keep Aaron’s blade from sneaking under his defense and tapping him meaningfully on the chest. No sooner had Aaron scored the blow than he rushed at the next closest of the two, intercepting the soldier even as he charged forward.

  What followed was a frantic, desperate battle but, in the end, the three men sat on the ground, defeated, and Aaron stood panting, covered in sweat but as happy as he had been of late. You see, Firefly? he thought. Not impossible.

  Oh, don’t get full of yourself, Co said, it is only because they weren’t ready. They didn’t expect you to attack.

  Aaron nodded, something—not an idea, maybe, but the ghost of one—niggling at his mind. He waved to the soldiers to continue practicing as he stepped out of the circle.

  “A good show, lad,” Darrell said, but he was frowning at the three soldiers. Since their return and Tianya’s betrayal and disappearance, Darrell had been helping to train the soldiers in an effort to prepare them for what they faced. Judging by his expression, he wasn’t pleased with what he’d seen.

  Aaron grunted, feeling the weight of his worries and the dangers they faced settling back on his shoulders. “Thanks, but they just didn’t expect it, that’s all. I doubt if it would work again.”

  “If this were a real fight,” Darrell said, “it would need to only work once. After all, dead men do not get to try again. It was smart of you to attack—it took them off guard.”

  Aaron smirked. “I had a swordmaster once—a real bastard, he was—that used to love telling me that it was often the man who attacked first who survived.”

  Darrell frowned, considering. “Is that right? Surely, I said it better than that. Still,” he said, shrugging, “it is true enough.”

  Aaron started to respond then froze, the idea crystallizing in his mind. “It’s because the ones with the advantage never expect to be attacked,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper, and he wasn’t sure whether the words were for Darrell or himself.

  “Yes,” the swordmaster said, nodding, “it is ever the curse of the strongest to underestimate their foes.”

  Aaron shook his head in disbelief. It was so simple. How had he not seen it sooner? “Sergeant!” Wendell paused in haranguing two soldiers who were exchanging swings in a practice bout and ran over to Aaron.

  “Yes, General?”

  “Go to the castle,” Aaron said, feeling better than he had in weeks. “Gather all the leaders of the alliance in the audience chamber—we need to talk.”

  Wendell opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to make some joke about Aaron missing his afternoon nap or something similar, but he must have seen the excitement in Aaron’s eyes because he finally only nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  When he was gone, Aaron turned to Darrell. “Do you know where the boy, Caleb, is?”

  Darrell frowned in thought. “Last I saw him, he was hanging out with Gryle, Beth, and her grandson, but that was this morning.”

  Aaron started away. “Come on. We have to find them.”

  Chapter

  Five

  It took Aaron nearly an hour to find Caleb, but he was happy to see that Beth and Gryle were with him. If his instincts were right, they would need all the help they could get to convince the leaders of the alliance of what must be done.

  By the time they walked through the doors of Isabelle’s audience chamber, the others were already waiting with empty plates sitting before them on the tables. “Gods, but it’s about damned time,” Grinner said, scowling at Aaron and his companions. “I don’t appreciate being kept waiting, General, not at all. There are important things that need doing, and here you’ve kept us sitting here for over an hour.”

  Hale grunted. “Oh, come off it, you old bastard. Besides,” he said, smirking as he glanced at the bodyguard standing behind the other crime boss, “important things or important men that need doing?”

  Grinner bared his teeth at that, but Hale was already turning back to look at Aaron. “Still, much as I hate the bastard, he’s right, Silent. Not that I don’t love your company, but I was pulled away from a particularly good whore for this. Good, but not cheap, and I’ve yet to get my money’s worth, so I hope you brought us here for a good reason.”

  Aaron nodded, glancing at Adina where she sat at the table before turning back to the crime boss, “You asked me, before, what I thought we should do.”

  “That’s right,” Grinner said, “and it seems to me that you said you didn’t know.”

  Aaron nodded, choosing to ignore the mockery in the crime boss’s tone. “That’s right. Well, I’ve been doing some thinking, and I believe…no, I know that we have only one real option. We can’t defend the city—not against the troops Kevlane will raise during the tournament. We can’t meet them in the forest without our own troops being cut down by those creatures, and fleeing to Avarest is a fool’s hope.”

  Grinner scowled at that. “What then?”

  Aaron took a slow, deep breath, meeting the eyes of those gathered. “We attack.”

  A heavy silence descended on the audience chamber as each of those present processed Aaron’s words. Finally, the silence was broken by Hale’s loud, hearty laughter, and he clapped the table with one hand, wiping at his eyes with the other. “Gods, lad, but you are one bloodthirsty bastard, I’ll give you that.”

  “And you call going to Avarest a fool’s hope?” Grinner sneered, shaking his head in anger and disbelief. “Yet you would have us march directly at the enemy, giving him the benefit of his walls and his defenses?” He scoffed, “We’d be slaughtered before we ever set foot in the city.”

  Isab
elle frowned, her expression set in thought. “I must admit, General, that it seems…reckless. As Councilman Grinner says, we would give up whatever advantage we have by staying here, in Perennia.”

  “What advantage?” Aaron asked, glancing around the room. “We all know what these creatures of Kevlane’s are capable of—the city walls wouldn’t afford much protection if a few of those big bastards decide they want in, I can promise you that.”

  “Perhaps not,” Isabelle admitted. “But…surely some protection is better than none?”

  Grinner waved a hand, dismissing Aaron. “Forget him, my Queen. The sellsword is either a traitor or a fool, for such an idea could only be born of deceit or idiocy. Now, about traveling to Avarest…”

  “A fool, am I?” Aaron asked, meeting the crime boss’s eyes. “Maybe I am. But, then, some might call it foolish to take on a crime boss’s entire empire, to fight through his men, killing his second in command as well as his bodyguard in the process—your predecessor,” he said, winking at the big man standing behind Grinner, “and then going for the crime boss himself.” He turned back to the crime lord. “Tell me, Grinner, just how long ago was it that I held a blade to your throat? A blade that none of those hundreds of men following you could have stopped?”

  Grinner sneered, “You were lucky, that’s all. Such a thing would not happen again—the only reason you managed to make it as far as you did was because I did not expect you to be fool enough to come for me personally.”

  Aaron nodded. “Much the same way Boyce Kevlane will not expect us to come for him.” He turned, addressing the room at large once more. “He will expect us to hide behind our walls, cowering and praying to the gods to save us or, perhaps,” he said, turning back to Grinner, “to flee like rats before a storm. What he won’t expect, what no one ever expects..” He paused to bare his teeth at the old crime boss in a savage grin. “Is for us to sneak into his chambers and put a sword to his fucking throat while he’s sleeping.”

  “It…could work,” Captain Gant ventured, but even he seemed uncertain.

  Grinner scoffed again, “You speak as if you know this man’s thoughts, as if he even is a man. If what you say is true, he’s been alive for thousands of years. There is no telling the way such a one might think.”

  Aaron ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Grinner might be the loudest and the biggest pain in the ass among them, but he could see the looks of uncertainty on the faces of the others, could feel their doubt through his bond with Co.

  They are not convinced, Co said.

  Thanks for that input, Firefly, Aaron thought back sourly.

  Suddenly, Adina stood up, meeting Aaron’s eyes before turning to Grinner. “I would not be so dismissive of what Aaron has to say, were I you. Without him, my sister would be dead, and all of this would have been over a long time ago. Without him, Perennia would have fallen when Belgarin brought his armies. Perhaps, it would be wise of you to listen more closely to what he’s saying.”

  Grinner sneered, opening his mouth to say something obviously scathing but seemed to come to the realization that he would be talking down to a queen, another of the royal line. His mouth clamped shut, but his hateful expression did not fade.

  Hale glanced at the old crime boss and snorted before turning back to the princess. “Well, he might be too scared to say what he’s thinkin’, Princess—still hoping for a lordship, I expect—but I’m not. Anyone with eyes can see that you and Silent here have taken more than your fair share of tumbles in the sheets. Now, normally I don’t hold such a thing as that against a person—the gods know I’ve been known to do some tumblin’ myself—but it seems to me that if Silent here was to say we ought to pull the moon down from the sky and drop it on Kevlane’s head, you’d stand up just as quick.”

  Adina’s face colored, and Isabelle stood, a look of outrage on her face. “How dare you talk to my royal sister in such a manner?” Isabelle demanded. “Guards seize this ma—”

  “Peace, sister,” Adina said, holding her hand up, “peace. I have heard far worse in my time.” She turned back to Hale. “As for tumbles in the sheets, the women who accompany you must be particularly skilled. For the life of me, I can’t see how a woman would fit into the same bed as your inflated head, let alone the rest of you.”

  Hale chuckled at that, not offended in the least. “Well, you give me an hour of your time, and I’d be happy enough to show you how it’s done.” He turned to Aaron. “You wouldn’t mind that, would you, Silent? A little bit of sharin’ never hurt anyone.”

  Aaron had taken several steps toward the man before he realized it, and a hand shot out from behind him, grabbing his shoulder. He turned to see Darrell staring at him, his expression sober as he shook his head. “Not like this, Aaron,” he said, low enough so that only the sellsword could hear. “Remember why we’ve come.”

  If Hale was concerned about how close Aaron had come to attacking him, he didn’t show it. He grinned widely. “Well, well, well. Seems to me like the Silent Blade, the most cold-hearted, murderous bastard in the Downs, is in love. Never thought I’d see the day.”

  Aaron frowned, opening his mouth to speak, but Adina beat him to it. “What myself and Aaron do in our personal time is none of your concern or of this council’s. Besides,” she said, meeting the crime boss’s eye, “I think that we’ve probably got more important things to be concerned about than my and Aaron’s personal affairs. Like, perhaps, an ancient mage who is creating an army of monsters to march on this city and kill everyone in it.”

  Hale grunted at that, appearing properly chastised and, for the first time Aaron could remember, he didn’t have anything to say. Adina waited a moment to be sure he would remain silent then spoke again. “As I was saying, no one is claiming that attacking Baresh is a great choice, but that it’s the only one. And while all of us appreciate your contribution so far, I think it’s more than fair to say that Aaron has saved this city more than once. And if he says our only option is to attack,”—she turned, meeting Aaron’s gaze—”then I trust him.”

  “Trust is all well and good, Queen Adina,” Grinner said, “but it will not keep our troops from being massacred in the open field. For all any of us know, that bastard could already have an army of those things waiting for us.”

  “I do not believe there’s much chance of that.”

  Everyone in the audience chamber turned at the sound of the new voice to see the thirteen-year-old, Caleb, step next to Aaron. The youth seemed to wilt under the weight of those gazes. He took a slow breath, straightening his back and gathering his courage before he met the eyes of those assembled.

  Grinner opened his mouth to speak, a sneer on his face once more, but General Yalleck beat him to it. “Forgive me,” Avarest’s representative said in a voice that was not unkind, “and I do not mean to dismiss your opinion, boy, but what does a child know about war? Or, no offense, about anything? I have two children, a son around your age, and a daughter a few years younger, and the fact of the matter is that their mother and I can barely trust the boy to bathe regularly without us telling him to. As for our daughter,” he said, shaking his head with a small smile on his face, “she is more clever than she has a right to be and is a trial for both of us. Still, I would not trust either, good kids that they are, to craft a strategy for war. War is men’s’ business, lad.” He turned as the queen cleared her throat, and his face grew red before he finished with, “Well, that is to say that it is the business of adults, at any rate.”

  Caleb smiled, his shyness from a moment ago nowhere in sight. “What does a child know, General?” he asked. “Oh, I know more than you might think. For instance, I know that you suffered from a spinal injury when you were younger—you’ve since lost the limp, but you sometimes exaggerate your posture and almost always wince as if expecting pain—a holdover from the days following your injury. I know also that the sword you wear at your hip was a gift—not from your wife, for you’ve had it longer than that, I think, but I’
d wager that it was a woman. Need I go on?”

  The general jerked up out of his chair, his eyes wide. “What kind of devilry is this?” he demanded.

  Caleb sighed. “Not devilry, General, only knowledge. I see no more than any other person does; the only difference is that I pay attention to the things I see, and it’s not difficult to understand why a thing is the way it is once you realize it’s there in the first place.”

  Grinner rolled his eyes. “Trickery, no more. That doesn’t make you qualified for giving advice on war, boy.”

  Caleb turned and met the crime boss’s gaze. “Would you like for me to perform my trickery on you, sir? Here, in front of all these people?”

  Grinner’s eyes narrowed at that, but after a moment he looked away. Caleb nodded. “Now then, I must support General Envelar’s strategy. It is very, very unlikely that Kevlane will expect it and, by my calculations, all other methods end in not only our deaths but the deaths of those people whom we are trying to protect.”

  Hale glanced at the older crime boss and grinned at his discomfort before turning back to Caleb. “Gods, lad, but I’d like to have you around the next time I sit down for a hand of cards. Anyway, if you’re so clever, what would you say the odds are of us winning if we do attack?”

  Caleb hesitated, glancing at Aaron, but the sellsword nodded wearily. “No more than one in ten,” the youth admitted. Everyone shifted in their seats at that, but Caleb held up his hands. “But you have to understand, that such a determination cannot be as accurate as you might think. There are certain factors…”

  Hale waved one of his big hands dismissively. “Never mind the factors, lad. Your words to Yalleck here were enough to make the man turn as white as parchment and damn near fall out of his chair. I’ll trust your judgment for the time bein’. Now then,” he said, turning to the room at large, “the real question we have to ask ourselves is if we’re okay with a one in ten chance of makin’ it out of this thing with all of our parts in their proper places. Because, no offense lad, but it seems to me that a one in ten chance isn’t much of a chance at all, and if we’re goin’ to die anyway, I’d just as soon make a few more visits to the city’s brothels. I’m thinkin’ there’s one or two ladies left that I might not have seen to yet, and I’d hate for them to feel left out.”