David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

“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.

“You were right,” Tavis said softly, as they watched her go. “We do want to be in Helke.”

Grinsa wasn’t so certain. He had no doubt that they would find the assassin there. Even had the vision that came to him in the City of Kings not been enough to convince him, this conversation with the woman would have been. But after listening to her description of the singer’s fight with the road thieves, he was more certain than ever that Tavis had been fortunate to survive his first encounter with the man. Chances were that he wouldn’t fare so well the second time they met.

“You heard what she said about the brigands.”

The boy nodded, still gazing down the lane.

“And still you’re sure that you want to pursue this matter?”

“You said yourself that he’ll kill again, given time.”

“Maybe he will. But the last time he killed, he struck at the conspiracy.”

“I need to do this, Grinsa. I need to clear my name.”

Grinsa turned to face him. “Stop saying that. Your name has been cleared, at least to the extent that it ever will be. Cresenne saw to that when she admitted to the king what she’d done. Aindreas may refuse to believe it, and the lords of Galdasten as well. But for any reasonable person, her confession should be enough.”

“So you think I should just let Brienne’s killer go free?”

“I think you should admit that this is all about vengeance, nothing more, nothing less. The singer killed your betrothed, and because of that you suffered greatly, not only from grief but also from her father’s thirst for revenge. I, of all people, know how much pain you’ve had to endure. I healed you, and I’ve journeyed the land with you for the better part of a year. I have no sympathy for Cadel, and I understand why you want him dead. But that doesn’t change the fact that you only pursue him to exact a measure of revenge. No good will come of his death, should you manage to kill him. And chances are, you’ll die in the attempt. All for nothing. You can tell me that you want to clear your name, to reclaim your place in the Order of Ascension, but in the end, you’re driven solely by your need for retribution. You’re no different than Aindreas.”