“They shouldn’t have killed him,” Hadrian said.
“See what I have to deal with? Problem is, you don’t get too many jobs like that. But what you said about ransom is true. There can be good money in that if you grab the right target. Even he can’t complain too much about that kind of work.”
“Well, in return for the meal, let me offer you a bit of advice,” Albert said. “We’re just outside the city of Colnora, and if I were you, I wouldn’t pull any kind of job around here, or the Black Diamond will be after you.”
“Black Diamond?” Hadrian asked. “Is that the city patrol?”
Albert chuckled, and Royce shook his head, looking at Hadrian as if he had dropped his pants in public.
“You’re not from around here?” Albert asked.
“From Hintindar, a tiny manorial village south on the Bernum River.”
“And you’ve never heard of the Black Diamond?”
“I haven’t been in the area much. I’ve been away in the east for quite a few years. Only returned about a year ago, when I met him.” Hadrian gestured at Royce. “Since then we’ve roamed around, but”—he looked curiously at Royce—“we’ve never come near Colnora until today.”
“Oh,” Albert said. “Well, the Black Diamond is a thieves’ guild. Some would say the thieves’ guild. The most powerful and extensive one in the world. Their headquarters is just down that road in Colnora. And like any thieves’ guild, they don’t like interlopers. If they find out you’re practicing your trade around here, they’ll track you down and slit your throats. And trust me, they’ll know. The Black Diamond is not an organization to toy with. Kings have been known to bow to them rather than face their wrath.”
“Well, I hope they catch up with that woman who stole our horses, then,” Hadrian said.
“They already know about her.” Royce threw a strand of yellow grass into the fire where it blackened and curled. “She was Black Diamond.”
“What do you—” Hadrian shook his head. “I can’t believe you let her take our horses and gear.”
“What part of ‘you need to learn a lesson’ didn’t you understand?”
“You’re insane, do you know that?”
“Yeah, well, you’re not the first to bring it up. But there’s nothing more to be done tonight. I suggest we settle in and get some sleep.”
Royce scrambled up to the loft and bedded down there. Hadrian continued to stare after him in shock for a minute before giving up and mounding a pile of hay near the fire. “I honestly can’t believe him sometimes.”
The nights had turned chilly and by morning there was a damp fog hanging in the air. Royce was the first one up. He got the fire going again, which surprised Hadrian, as they had nothing to cook. He likely built it out of boredom while he waited for Albert and Hadrian to wake. Most people would have done it to stave off the cold, but Hadrian had never seen Royce affected by the temperature, cold or hot.
“Morning,” Albert said as Hadrian sat up, shivered, and moved to the fire with the rest of them.
He scrubbed his face with his hands and wiped his eyes clear. The day was cloudy and the valley filled with a thick mist. Hadrian enjoyed mornings like this, quiet and serene, like a drowsy pause a lazy world was taking. He crouched to catch the warmth of the fire while dodging the smoke.
“So where were you two headed before misfortune dropped you here with me?” Albert asked. He lay sprawled next to Hadrian like a dog before a hearth.
“Up north. A place called Medford,” Hadrian replied, and began brushing hay off his shirt. “Royce and I have some friends up there we want to visit. Ever hear of it?”
Albert nodded. “Capital of Melengar, royal seat of King Amrath and Queen Ann. They have two children, a boy and girl. What’s their names … begin with A’s. All the Essendons’ names begin with A’s—Alric and Arista. Yes, that’s them. Close friends of the Pickerings. Have you ever seen Belinda Pickering?”
Both Hadrian and Royce shook their heads.
“She’s a fine beauty, but her husband has a bit of a temper. He’s very protective of her and good with a sword. But if you ever get a chance to see her, it’s worth chancing a look.”
“You know a lot about these people,” Royce said.
Albert shrugged. “I’m noble. We all know each other. There are many parties, balls, and feasts. Not to mention the holidays and weddings. Most of us are actually related.”
Royce tapped his fingers to his lips. “Nobles have a lot more money than merchants.”
“Well, not all, clearly.” Albert made a wry smile; then the smile dropped and his eyes lit up. “Yes … yes, they do. And they also have problems—problems that could use creative solutions. Court is a very interesting place, a bloodless battlefield where rumors can ruin lives and embarrassments can be worse than death. Many would pay great sums to avoid—or cause—such humiliations. The trick is discovering who needs what done and arranging for meetings.”
Royce nodded. “I suspect nobles won’t speak to the likes of us.”
“Of course not. They would never stoop so low as to confer with a commoner, much less a dubious one. They prefer to do business with their own kind. You would need a go-between, a representative, but he’d have to be noble.”
“Too bad we don’t know anyone like that,” Royce said.
“Well … with a haircut, shave, some new clothes—”
“And no more rum,” Royce said.
Albert grimaced. “But—”
“No buts. You can stay here and die or work for us, and if you work for us, you work sober.”
Albert rubbed his bristly chin. “That really should be an easy choice, shouldn’t it?”
Hadrian spoke up. “Exactly how are we going to provide all this? Have you forgotten that we’ve lost everything? At the moment we’re not much better off than he is.”
Royce smiled and stood up. “Details, details. Are you two ready to go?”
“I suppose you’ll want to hunt down that witch of a woman and kill her?” Hadrian inquired with a tone of distaste as they all began to walk up the slope of wildflowers.
“You know,” Albert said, “for a soldier you don’t seem to care much for killing.”
“I’ve seen enough of that to last three lifetimes. And I don’t relish the thought of hunting a woman or like knowing what he’ll do when we find her.”
“We aren’t going after the witch,” Royce said.
“Really?” Hadrian asked. “But what about our horses and gear?”
“Look.” Royce pointed up the remainder of the hill at the house. There, standing tethered to what was left of the porch, were their horses.
“I don’t understand.” Hadrian trotted the rest of the way and checked their packs and saddles. “Everything’s here.”
“They’ve been brushed and I expect fed and watered too,” Royce said. “Oh, and look.” He reached down and bent one of the horse’s legs to reveal a bright shoe underneath. “Freshly shod.”
“I don’t get it. Why would she return them?”
“I suspect she, or someone she reports to, read the note I left in my pack.”
“You left a note for the thieves’ guild? What did it say?”
“Just that these horses are my animals and that they might want to reconsider taking them.”
Albert and Hadrian exchanged looks of bewilderment.
“They know me. We have an arrangement. They leave me alone … and I leave them alone.”
“You leave them alone?” Albert said in a mocking tone.
Royce smiled at him—not a friendly smile. Then he searched his pack and pulled out a small bit of parchment.
“What does it say?” Albert asked.
“Please accept our apologies for this inconvenience,” Royce recited, then chuckled before finishing. “The bitch didn’t know.”
Royce held up the parchment and in a loud voice said, “Accepted.”
Albert nervously looked at the trees around them. “They’re here?”
“They’re watching to see what I’ll do.”