David Dalglish - A Dance of Shadows

His city. His life. He knew it all too well, far better than any soldier. Without slowing he ran for the edge of the roof, legs pumping, heart pounding. Leaping off, he sailed through the air, crashing down on an awning stretched out from a building on the opposite side of the street. The fabric tore, but slowed him enough before he landed hard on the wares of a petty jewel crafter.

Thren laughed, rolled off, laughed some more. Tossing aside his cloak, he vanished into the thick market crowd, leaving the soldiers and the burning wreckage of his guild far behind.

Nathaniel did his best to help, but given his diminutive size, and the sheer amount of things being transported from their mansion to Lord Connington’s, he was just a burden to those lifting and carrying. So instead he decided to entertain his mother, and keep her mind off whatever bothered her. As they rode together in the litter he sat beside her, wrapped in her arms, and asked a thousand questions.

Would there be any children there?

Who had been the first lord of the Connington family?

What did their family crest look like?

Where’d they gotten their money?

Would his things be all right?

Did they have any interesting pets?

“Dear, if you’re nervous, you can just say so,” Alyssa said as he continued to ramble, and she struggled to keep up with her answers. Nathaniel shrugged and grinned at his mother.

“I’m not nervous. You’re nervous. I bet you’ve never slept anywhere but your room, but I stayed at Lord Gandrem’s.”

His mother laughed, and it made all of Nathaniel’s world brighter with it.

“I was fostered at various homes when I was your age, and that includes Lord Gandrem’s stuffy old rooms. But you’re right, I am nervous. Would you be a gentleman and hold my hand, lest I faint?”

Nathaniel stood up straighter, put on his most serious face.

“Whatever you would require, milady.”

She laughed again, and his face cracked into a smile. So long as his mother wasn’t crying, he’d be all right. They’d be just fine. His mother was strong, deep down he knew that. Seeing her upset, seeing her afraid as Zusa fought against the other strange ladies, had been far more frightening to him than the chaotic looters gathered at the gates.

The litter stopped, and in through the window climbed Zusa, having ridden on the top. She ruffled Nathan’s hair, then turned to his mother.

“We’re here,” she said. “And true to his word, there are many, many guards.”

They stepped out, and it seemed an army of servants awaited them. His mother’s servants met them, exchanging looks and words with each other in hushed, quick tones. Nathaniel watched them, feeling as if he saw a glimpse of a world he’d been sheltered from. Some handed over belongings, others followed guides inside, carrying bags and armloads of clothes, shoes, belts, jewel boxes, and dusty heirlooms. Burlier men carried heavy trunks, smaller women food and supplies for baking. It was a whirlwind of things to Nathan, a stunning amount all to keep him fed, keep him happy, keep him well. He thought of the simplified existence John Gandrem led in his castle and wondered what he might say to such a chaotic sight. But John had stayed behind so he might ride with Melody to their new temporary home. The thought made Nathaniel uneasy for some reason he couldn’t identify.

“I’ll speak with Stephen about arrangements,” Alyssa said to Zusa. “See if you can find him a room.”

Zusa frowned but did not object. She offered Nathaniel a hand. He stared at it. She wore plain clothes, as if she were a servant. Try as he might, he could not remember ever having touched her bare skin before, just her wrappings. Feeling the eyes of his mother upon him, he took it, nodded for Zusa to lead the way. He did his best to hide his surprise at how soft her hand was. His mother kissed his forehead, and then they were away, crossing the expansive yard surrounded by fences and weaving through the bustle of servants and guards.

Once inside, Zusa looked down both sides of the hallway and frowned.

“Stephen has little family,” she said. “Surely there must be plenty of rooms worthy of a little prince such as you.”

“I’m not a prince.”

Zusa smirked at that.

“Given the wealth of your mother, you might as well be one, Nathan.”

A few of the house servants hurried past them, but Zusa seemed reluctant to bother them. Instead she picked a direction, and together they traveled deeper into the mansion. Nathaniel stared at the walls, mesmerized by the many paintings. Some were of fields and mountains, crystal-blue streams running through green hills. Others were of grim men and women, dressed in fine clothing of times past, smiles seeming such a rarity in these people of wealth. Nathaniel frowned. Maybe it was just the way they wanted to look, to be remembered. Why was it so wrong to be remembered laughing, to be thought of as kind?

Of course he knew what John would have said to that. Those with power had no time for games and smiles. Too many others might suffer for it.

“Anywhere is fine,” Nathaniel said when he realized Zusa was still searching for a room he might use.

“For you, perhaps,” Zusa said, stopping a moment so she could duck her head between large double doors opening into a vast room. “But I will be keeping an eye on you while we are here, and I would have you sleep somewhere safe.”

“There’s guards all over,” Nathaniel said as she tugged on his hand. “Mother said Lord Stephen even hired extra. Why wouldn’t we be safe?”

Zusa pulled free one of her daggers and then spun low so she could grab his neck with one hand and press the tip of her blade against his throat with the other. Nathaniel didn’t react, too stunned and confused. There in the dim, long hallway they were alone, the mansion strangely silent.

“There are a hundred guards outside these walls,” Zusa whispered to him. “But not a one could stop me from killing you this second. Guards don’t mean safety. Walls don’t mean safety. We are safe only when we are strong enough to protect ourselves, and right now you are but a child. Until you are grown, I must protect you as well as your mother.”

She stood, let go of his neck.

“But you’ll protect me,” he said. “How is that any different than Stephen’s guards?”

“I protect you because I am loyal to your mother,” she said, putting away her dagger. “But who are Stephen’s guards loyal to?”

“To… to Stephen, but that doesn’t mean they’ll let something bad happen to us.”

Zusa shook her head. “Always know the loyalties of the hands you put your life in. You will one day be a lord of the Trifect, Nathan. You cannot rely on the honor and decency of men to stay alive.”

“So I should trust no one?” he asked. It sounded like a cruel lesson of an even crueler world that would await him when he grew older. Zusa stared at him, and he saw a bit of her hard façade fade. She knelt again, put her hands on his shoulders.

“Trust those you love, and that love you in return,” she said. “It will hurt more if they betray you, but at least you’ll still know joy.”

Zusa nodded toward a simple door that looked almost quaint compared to that of most of the rooms they’d passed. “In there. Let us see what we find.”

She took his hand again, and they stepped into a fairly plain room, just a bed with a naked mattress, a dresser for clothes, and a washbasin with a mirror in the corner. Zusa looked about, analyzing things in a way Nathaniel doubted he would ever understand. She checked the window, the door, beneath the bed, and then nodded.

“I must look outside first, but I feel this will be safe,” she said. “The door is sturdy, and you can bolt it from within. The window is high, but you should be able to crawl through and land outside without breaking any bones. Those unfamiliar to the mansion will not think to find you in such a small, unadorned room.”