Michael Sullivan - The Crown Tower

Her name was Vivian, and the merchants had lavished all their attentions on her the night before. Her emergence cast the same spell, and the three jumped to their feet the moment she stepped on deck. Unlike the others, Vivian did not bundle herself in woolen robes or cloaks. She wore only a simple gray gown, the sort a young wife of a successful journeyman might choose. It hardly mattered what she wore. Hadrian thought she could make a gunnysack look stunning. Vivian was beautiful, which was saying a great deal, as Hadrian was fresh out of Calis, where the native women, particularly the Tenkins, were perhaps the most beautiful in the world. Vivian was nothing like them, and he guessed that was part of her allure. Fair-haired, pale, and delicate, she seemed like a porcelain figurine amidst the men. She was the first western woman Hadrian had consorted with in two years.

Samuel helped Vivian settle discreetly between himself and Sebastian, leaving Eugene to take a seat next to Hadrian. “Did you sleep well?” Eugene asked, leaning in closer to her than necessary.

“Not at all. I had nightmares, dreadful nightmares brought on by last night’s events.”

“Nightmares?” Sebastian scowled. “There is no need to concern yourself, dear lady. Vernes and those heinous crimes are far behind us. Besides, everyone knows the rogue was known to kill only men.”

“That’s precious little comfort, sir, and that man”-she indicated the solitary figure at the front of the boat-“frightens me.”

“Never fear, dear lady. Only a fool would try something nefarious on so small a boat,” Samuel said. “There is no privacy to commit a crime and no retreat in its wake.”

“Its wake -how witty of you, Samuel,” Vivian said, but the merchant did not seem to understand his own wordplay.

“And look here.” Sebastian pointed toward Hadrian. “We have a young soldier on board. He is fresh from the wilds of Dagastan. You will keep her safe from any would-be brute, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Hadrian replied, and meant it, although he hoped not to be tested. He started regretting wearing the swords. In Calis, they were as commonplace as his linen thawb or keffiyeh, and in truth a man would be thought strange without at least one displayed at his side. He’d forgotten they were a rarity in Avryn, but to start leaving them in his cabin now would be awkward. After five years his swords had become as much a part of him as his fingers, and their absence would be as distracting as a lost tooth. While he was certain Sebastian’s earlier conclusions had been based more on stories than firsthand experience, Hadrian knew the merchant was right about one thing-killing carried a price.

“There, you see.” Sebastian clapped his hands as if he had just performed a magic trick. “You’re safe.”

Vivian offered a weak smile, but her eyes glanced once more toward the bow and the man in the hood.

“Perhaps one of us should talk to him?” Eugene suggested. “If we find out his story, there might be nothing to fear.”

“Our young apprentice has a point,” Sebastian said with enough surprise in his voice to draw a scowl from the younger man. “It’s upsetting to have a tiger about and not know if it’s hungry. Go speak to him, Eugene.”

“No thank you. I had the idea.”

“Well I certainly can’t,” Sebastian said. “I’m far too talkative. It’s a trait that has often led to problems. We don’t want to provoke the man unnecessarily. What about you, Samuel?”

“Are you insane? You don’t send a lamb to question a tiger. The soldier should go. He has nothing to be afraid of. Even a murderer would think twice before challenging a man with two swords.”

They all looked at Hadrian.

“What do you want to know?”

“His name,” Sebastian suggested. “Where he’s from. What he does-”

“If he’s the murderer-” Vivian burst in.

“I’m not so sure you’ll want to lead with that,” Samuel said.

“But isn’t that what we all want to know?”

“Yes, but who would admit to such a thing? Better to get enough information to build a picture and then infer the truth from that.”

“But if you ask straight out, that will serve as a warning that we’re wise to him and on our guard. Any plans he might have will be spoiled and abandoned.”

“How about I just see how things go,” Hadrian said, rising.

The team of horses moved along the towpath, hauling the barge smoothly up the river. Still, Hadrian carefully checked his footing as he climbed the short steps of the foredeck and skirted around boxes covered in tarpaulins and lashed with fishing nets. From his new vantage point he could see the expanse of the Bernum. The wind caught him full face, bringing the smell of pine with its cold chill. Wool , he promised himself again. A thick shirt and heavy cloak .

“Excuse me,” Hadrian said, and the man turned partway but not far enough to reveal features, not even a nose. After Sebastian’s comments Hadrian was curious about the man’s eyes. “My name is Hadrian Blackwater.”

“Congratulations.” The reply was as cold as the wind that carried it.

“Uh … what’s yours?”

The man turned away. “Leave me alone.”

“Just being friendly. We’re all cooped up on this barge for a couple of days. Might as well get to know each other.”

Nothing. Like talking to a wall.

Walls usually surrounded fortresses. To get in you could lay siege, dig under, or slip an agent inside. Maybe Vivian had the right idea. There was always the suicidal frontal assault. “Just thought you should know that there might be a killer on board.”

The head turned to face him again. This time it came farther around and Hadrian caught a glimpse of one eye. It did not glow, nor did Hadrian see an elongated pupil, but Sebastian might have a point. Hadrian saw menace there, a piercing glare he’d seen many times before, usually followed by the clash of steel.

“I’m certain there is more than one,” the hooded man said. “Now go away.”

This gate was tightly sealed. Hadrian gave up and returned to the others.

“Well?” Vivian was the first to speak.

Hadrian shrugged. “Doesn’t like to talk much.”

“What about his eyes? He has eyes like a wolf, doesn’t he?” Sebastian asked.

“Well, he’s not a friendly sort-that much is certain. As to his eyes … I wouldn’t exactly call that conclusive proof.”

“He is the killer. I knew it!” Sebastian gloated.

“At least we know,” Samuel agreed while struggling to roll his sleeves up in a way they would stay. “Now we can take steps to protect ourselves.”

“We don’t know anything,” Hadrian said. “Just because he’s solitary doesn’t mean he’s a killer.”

“I agree with Samuel,” Vivian said. “We need to act. What steps can we take?” She was pressed close to Sebastian as if he were a campfire, her arms crossed over her breasts and hands tucked under for warmth.

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to avoid being alone with him,” Hadrian said. “And the locks on the cabin door are well made. I suggest you secure them whenever you’re in your room.”

“Why don’t we just shutter the entire cabin area?” Eugene asked.

“I think he might object to being locked out, especially when he paid for a berth like the rest of us,” Hadrian explained.

“The rest of us are not murderers,” Eugene said.

“As far as we know, neither is he.”

“We could tie him up,” Sebastian suggested.

“Are you serious?” Hadrian asked.

“That’s a good idea!” Samuel agreed. “We could all have at him. He’s not big. We could pin him down, tie his hands and feet, and then lock him in the hold until the trip is over. Once we reach Colnora, we can turn him over to the city guard. They can take him back downriver and hand him over to the authorities in Vernes. We might even get a reward for his capture.”