Lindsay Buroker - Blood and Betrayal

“Do you have a changing area?” Maldynado asked.

“Alas, it’s closed for repairs.” Her smiled deepened.

Ah, so she wanted a show. Maldynado shrugged, set the clothes down, and unbuttoned his shirt. He’d undressed for far less noble purposes. Besides, when a man had a flawless physique, he really owed it to the world to share it in all its glory. While he changed, he glanced at the front door a few times, hoping Sergeant Yara would wander in. She’d chosen to wait on the street-keep watch, she’d said-but maybe she’d grow bored and check on him.

The shopkeeper assisted Maldynado in putting on her clothing, doing more touching than the act required. She also made him try on five different ensembles before finding one that he’d “represent well.” Maybe, for enduring this, he’d barter for two outfits for everyone on the team.

A half hour later, the dressing and shopping were done. Unfortunately, Yara never came in. Maldynado was on his way to the door when the shopkeeper glided to a stop in front of him with a large stack of business cards in her hand.

“Here you are, my lord.” She stuck them in his pocket. Pockets, actually, as the sizable stack required dividing. “You promise you’ll hand them out to those in your circle, right?” She tilted her head back, gazing into his eyes with her own imploring ones.

A twinge of guilt ran through him, and, he knew as soon as he nodded his head that he’d actually have to do it. A fib now and then was one thing, but a promise? He couldn’t break that, even if the “circle” he ran in now wasn’t terribly likely to shop on the River Walk at Sunders City.

When Maldynado stepped outside, his arms laden with bags, the setting sun gleamed orange on the water. Despite the reluctant promise he’d given, he felt good. The sexy new hat perched atop his wavy curls, and his dirty garments had been replaced by practical travel wear: a leather duster, suede shirt a touch snug across the chest so that it emphasized his musculature, and fitted trousers that emphasized… other things. If Yara still had that quarter-ranmya coin, he might arrange to accidently bump it from her fingers, so he could take a while picking it up in front of her.

But where was Yara? He searched for her amongst the handful of pedestrians strolling down the shop-lined cobblestone street. The area wasn’t as busy as he remembered from his youth, though the chill in the air might explain that. A nippy breeze gusted down the river, hinting of rain, or maybe snow. Smoke billowed from a stack on a steamboat chugging upstream, making Maldynado think of warming his hands by a fire. A fire in a suite in a fine inn preferably, but he supposed he needed to return soon with the clothing if he didn’t want Sespian to grow weary of waiting and go off on his own.

Maldynado finally spotted Yara in an alcove of a brick building, her back to the wall as she alternately watched the street and read a newspaper. Ah, too bad. She must have spent the coin.

“Good evening, my lady,” Maldynado drawled as he approached. “Enjoying the view?” He extended a hand toward the water.

“No, you useless fop.” Yara thrust the front page of the newspaper out for his perusal.

With his arms full of bags, Maldynado couldn’t easily grab it, but he leaned closer to read the headline in the fading light. “Emperor Sespian Savarsin Missing. Huh, that’s a newspaper from the capital.” In fact, it was The Gazette, the paper Deret Mancrest’s family owned. “They couldn’t possibly have gotten the news about the kidnapping yet.” Unless someone had known Sespian wouldn’t be coming back from his train trip. Deret couldn’t be involved with the plotters, could he?

“Keep reading,” Yara said.

“Due to our missing emperor, as well as last week’s deaths of prominent businessmen and women, a military contingent from Fort Urgot has been deployed to occupy the capital and the Imperial Barracks. These forces will protect the citizens and ensure peace while Emperor Sespian is sought.”

“Ensure peace.” Yara snorted. “More likely they want troops loyal to your brother to be in place when they decide the emperor is no longer missing but dead.”

“I wish people would stop calling Ravido my brother, as if I’m responsible for his actions.” A half mile downriver, soldiers were still stationed atop the bridge, stopping people as they passed. On the way across, Maldynado hadn’t been delayed long enough to learn why the men were on guard-dropping the Marblecrest name had earned him and Yara prompt passage into the city-but now he understood. Garrisons all over the empire would be alert after an announcement of a missing emperor.

“Yes,” Yara said, “it’s clear you don’t want to be held responsible for anything. I’m surprised you volunteered for something as crucial as shopping.”

“People who take responsibility get blamed when things go wrong. No responsibility, no blaming. That’s how this old chap prefers it.”

Yara folded the paper and stepped away from the wall. “You’ll never get your statue.”

“What? Why?”

She had already turned her back and was striding down the street. Maldynado hustled to catch up with her, his shopping bags tangling with his legs.

“I’m a good fighter, and I’ve helped the boss out a lot. She’s going to be all right. She’s probably escaped already and is figuring out how to deal with all this.” Maldynado waved at the newspaper tucked under Yara’s arm. “She’ll come up with a plan to get Sespian back to the Barracks and to stop Forge for good. I’m trustworthy and loyal, despite what the others think right now, and I’ll be with her, ready to fight. I’m behind her until the end.”

“They don’t make statues of people who walk behind others. You have to walk out in front.” With those words, Yara increased her pace and pulled ahead, as if to let him know she was done with the conversation. And him.

Maldynado caught himself slowing down. She’d been derisive, and his first thought was to brush off her words, but he grudgingly admitted there might be something to them.

On her way by, Yara brushed past a pair of pretty young women, giggling and pointing in windows as they strolled down the sidewalk. They noticed Maldynado, exchanged whispers, and one gave him an inviting smile. The idea of accepting that invitation teased his thoughts. It’d be nice to forget Yara, the emperor, and the suspicions of the team for a night. But he kept walking. There was too much at stake, including Sicarius’s threat.

Sighing, Maldynado passed the pair with no more than a nod. When the inviting woman’s smile turned into a disappointed pout, he almost changed his mind. He hated to be the cause of feminine dismay.

While he gazed back with those second thoughts, something else drew his eye. Across the street another pair of women had walked out of a single-story antique shop bestowed with mildew-covered shingles and a multi-paned window so old one would have to press one’s nose to the glass to see any of the wares inside. The structure seemed out of place on the street of sleek, modern buildings that overlooked the river, but that wasn’t what captured Maldynado’s attention. One of the women, the shopkeeper perhaps, withdrew a keychain and bent to lock the door. The second woman… was one of Maldynado’s cousins.

If he’d taken the time to think about it, he would have remembered that he had kin in Sunders City, but seeing her surprised him. Cousin Lita was his age and, with thick brown curls that tumbled about her shoulders, possessed the family good looks. She and her two brothers had come up to stay on the main Marblecrest estate a couple of summers when their parents had been traveling.

Maybe he should stop, say hello, and try to inveigle gossip out of her. When the emperor had suggested Maldynado might be a source of information, he’d balked at the idea of betraying his family, but that had been before he knew everyone was suspicious of him. Maybe a few choice tidbits about Ravido would placate Sespian and the others. Lita had always been a gossip and a chatterbox, so, if anyone had choice tidbits on the family, it’d be her. Of course, if Maldynado did extract and share crucial details, he’d have to live knowing he’d turned snitch on his kin. That didn’t sit well with him.