David Dalglish - Blood of the Underworld

Cutting through one room, he kicked open a back door, emerging into an alley. Three men hurried toward him, one with a raised crossbow. Thren rushed them, leaping to one side to prevent a clear shot. Catapulting himself into the air, he kicked off the wall, sailing over the soldiers while upside down. His sword lashed out, cutting the string of the crossbow as the soldier tried to follow him with his aim. Landing, he spun, swords weaving so that the remaining men fell back, expecting an attack.

But it was just a feint, and before the group realized it, he was already running. Another squad moved to cut him off up ahead, but Thren used a heavy barrel as a step ladder, catapulting himself high enough to grab the edge of a roof. Momentum swung him higher as more crossbow bolts pierced the air all about him. Rolling onto the roof, he took a moment to gasp for air, then lumbered back to a stand.

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 atop 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 over 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.

Will there be any children there?

Who was the first Lord of the Connington family?

What did their family crest look like?

Where’d they get 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 older. 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 when Zusa fought against the other strange ladies, had been far more frightening than anything.

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 like an army of servants awaited them. The Gemcroft servants met them, exchanging looks and words with each other in hushed, quick tones. Nathaniel watched them, feeling like he was seeing a hint 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 Lord Gandrem lived in his castle and wondered what he might say seeing 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 ever remember having touched her bare skin before, just her wrappings. Feeling the eyes of his mother upon him, he took it, nodded for her to lead the way. He did his best to hide his surprise at how soft Zusa’s hands were. 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 for 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 ushered 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 say 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’re 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 Connington even hired extra. Why wouldn’t we be safe?”

Zusa stopped. She 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 swarming about 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 Lord Connington’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 awaited him when he grew older. Zusa stared at him, and he saw a bit of her hard facade fade. She knelt again, put her hands on his shoulders.