David Dalglish - Blood Of Gods

The Conningtons stood in front of the two musicians, warming their hands at the fireplace that took up one-third of the solarium. Each held a cup of spiced brandy provided by Penetta. They whispered back and forth to one another, and Cleo in particular kept glancing up at the bare stretch of wall just above the hearth. They were clearly stalling. Catherine walked up to them and cleared her throat.

“Would you rather talk business or stare at a blank wall?”

“Oh, my sour and candid Catherine, we will talk trade soon enough,” said Cleo. “My brother and I were simply remembering the monstrosity that once hung there.”

“The sword Lancaster Brennan had forged as gift for Karak,” Catherine stated.

“Yes, that,” Romeo said. “So impressive, despite its impracticality.”

“The sword reached the giant,” Cleo said in his singsong way. “Our. . associate. . is right now following Gorgoros and his people as they march through the desert. The deed will be done soon.”

They are uninformed. If what Ki-Nan wrote is true, the battle is already over, and he is with the giant heading north. You best stay safe, my love. You best return to me.

“That is good,” said Catherine. “Now, this business about the land up north-”

“Can wait,” Romeo said. “Right now, we are famished. The brandy is only sparking my appetite. Will you offer your guests some sustenance?”

“Of course,” Catherine said with a curtsey.

Her maids left the solarium, returning a few minutes later with plates of peppered goat, cornmeal biscuits, and bowls of venison and barley stew. The brothers sat down in front of the fireplace, throwing casual conversation Catherine’s way as they picked at their food. She watched them with interest, politely answering each of their meaningless questions. The conversation was benign, and Catherine was growing impatient. It was hard to keep her frustration in check.

Finally, after the brothers had scarfed down the pork pastries Penetta offered them, Catherine stood from her chair. “You came here for business. Now that you’ve eaten, are you ready to talk?”

“Yes, we’re ready,” said Romeo. Cleo sniggered.

They made their way to the other side of the room. Catherine circled around the desk and sat down while Lori and Ursula brought over two chairs for the brothers. The Conningtons sat down without giving thanks. Romeo acted as if her maids weren’t there, treating them much like he had his mother. Cleo leered at them, something in the sparkle behind his eyes making Catherine grip the edge of the desk tightly, feeling the handle of the dagger strapped beneath it.

“Now about the lands and the fjord,” she said. “Matthew’s father purchased both from your grandfather years ago. It has been in his family ever since. The trees are valuable, the river crossing and docks even more so. If you wish to take possession of them, the price will be steep.”

“Still so frank!” exclaimed Cleo. He then frowned playfully. “However, that bit of business can wait for later. We have much more important things to discuss.”

Catherine’s lips twisted into a grimace.

“Such as?”

Romeo smiled at her show of discomfort.

“Such as the state of your holdings here in Port Lancaster,” he said. “We have come to relinquish that burden from your shoulders.”

Catherine sat back in her chair and stared at the brothers, silent.

“We wish to help you, dear Catherine,” said Cleo. “We will take the reins of Matthew’s shipping empire and allow you to fulfill your womanly duties to your children. It must be difficult, worrying your pretty little head over all Matthew once controlled.”

“It can be,” she said, inwardly seething.

Romeo nodded. “We assumed so. We have an offer for you. We will take control of House Brennan’s holdings. We will operate the shipping and go about building new ships to replace those that have been lost.”

“We would take a fee, of course, for doing this,” added Cleo, “but the majority of Matthew’s coin would remain yours to do with as you choose. We know how difficult it must be for a housewife to manage these. . intricate details. You will be free to love and raise your children.”

Catherine frowned. “Which means you’ll be staying here indefinitely.”

“That is correct,” answered Romeo. “Until your son reaches age, and we relinquish control to him.”

“The perfect outcome for everyone!” Cleo sang.

Shaking her head, Catherine leveled her gaze at both of them.

“No.”

The brothers Connington gaped at her.

“Do you think me a fool? Do you think I was born yesterday? You’ve tried to ruin Matthew for years, and now you wish to help his widow? I think not. Ryan would never live to see his fifteenth birthday. Then, according to Neldar law, Matthew’s possessions will go to the first man to claim them. Which, since you’ll already have control, would be you.”

“How could you. . ” Cleo said, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“You had your own daughter killed, Cleo. Why would my son be different? Arrogant fool. You think you can come into my city, without guards of your own, and wrest power from me?”

To that, Romeo slammed his meaty fist on the table. “You think you’re not a fool? You think you have the upper hand in this? Ha!” He glanced toward the window, and a wicked grin stretched across his face. “By now, our mother has offered your sellswords everything they could ever desire to turn on you. Without them to protect you, what do you have?” He laughed aloud. “You will accept our offer, Catherine, or else another member of your family will suffer a mysterious death such as Matthew did!”

“Is that so?” she asked.

“It is,” scowled Romeo.

“So be it.”

Catherine stood and gestured to her maids. Romeo glowered, then tipped forward, readying to lift his fat body off his chair. He never made it to a stand. A gasp left his mouth as his eyes flitted to the side, staring at Penetta as the young maid held the sharp edge of a knife against his throat. Blood dribbled down his neck and stained the front of his frock an even deeper crimson.

“Oh,” Cleo said weakly, and Catherine turned to see Lori behind him, the maid holding a knife to his throat similarly. The two young lute players appeared on either side, each leveling a small crossbow. The Conningtons’ eyes darted to and fro, taking in their plight. Romeo collapsed back into his chair.

Catherine’s smile widened, and she made a show of sitting back down in her seat, billowing her skirt in a playful manner, still careful to hide her pregnant bulge. “Such fools. You have no idea whom you’re dealing with.”

“Obviously not,” said Cleo, a hint of humor still in his voice.

Romeo grunted, blood trickling from his neck. “If you wish to kill us, just do it.”

“Unlike certain others,” she said, “I don’t wish to kill those who might be my greatest allies.” She jutted her chin at her maids, and they withdrew their knives, backing away toward the fireplace. Romeo and Cleo visibly exhaled, the former bringing his hand up to staunch the flow from the small cut on his throat.

“Who are you?” asked Cleo, the mirth finally leaving his voice, breathless shock taking its place.

“I am the simple wife of a merchant. One who always kept her eyes and ears open. I watched Matthew’s dealings. I studied his actions, both the good and bad. I stowed away half the gold he earned without his knowledge, hiding the sums in ledgers that the priests and tax collectors from Veldaren were too lazy to scrutinize. And when Matthew’s vices finally outweighed his uses, I killed him.”

At that, both the brothers’ jaws dropped open.