Michael Sullivan: Wintertide

"Looks like he was expecting us," Hadrian said.

"Looks like he was expecting someone," Royce clarified.

"What the-" Startled, Albert Winslow spun around. "Would it hurt to knock?"

"What can I say?" Royce flopped on the bed. "We're scoundrels and thieves."

"Scoundrels certainly," Albert said, "but thieves? When was the last time you two stole anything?"

"Do I detect dissatisfaction?"

"I'm a viscount. I have a reputation to uphold, which takes a certain amount of income-money that I don't receive when you two are idle."

Hadrian took a seat at the table. "He's not dissatisfied. He's outright scolding us."

"Is that why you're here so early?" Royce asked. "Scouting for work?"

"Partially. I also needed to get away from the Winds Abbey. I'm becoming a laughing stock. When I contacted Lord Daref, he couldn't lay off the Viscount Monk jokes. On the other hand, Lady Mae does find my pious reclusion appealing."

"And is she the one who…" Hadrian swirled a finger at the neatly arranged table.

"Yes. I was about to fetch her. I'm going to have to cancel, aren't I?" He looked from one to the other and sighed.

"Sorry."

"I hope this job pays well. This is a new doublet and I still owe the tailor." Blowing out the candles, he took a seat across from Hadrian.

"How are things up north?" Royce asked.

Albert pursed his lips, thinking. "I'm guessing you know about Medford being taken? Imperial troops hold it and most of the provincial castles except for Drondil Fields."

Royce sat up. "No, we didn't know. How's Gwen?"

"I have no idea. I was here when I heard."

"So, Alric and Arista are at Drondil Fields?" Hadrian asked.

"King Alric is but I don't think the princess was in Medford. I believe she's running Ratibor. They appointed her mayor, or so I've heard."

"No," Hadrian said. "We just came through there. She was governing after the battle but left months ago in the middle of the night. No one knows why. I just assumed she went home."

Albert shrugged. "Maybe, but I never heard anything about her going back. Probably better for her if she didn't. The Imps have Drondil Fields surrounded. Nothing is going in or out. It's only a matter of time before Alric will have to surrender."

"What about the abbey? Has the Empire come knocking?" Royce asked.

Albert shook his head. "Not that I know of. But like I said, I was already here when the Imperialists crossed the Galewyr."

Royce got up and began to pace.

"Anything else?" Hadrian asked.

"Rumor has it that Tur Del Fur was invaded by goblins. But that's only a rumor, as far as I can tell."

"Not a rumor," Hadrian said.

"Oh?"

"We were there. Actually, we were responsible."

"Sounds…interesting," Albert said.

Royce stopped his pacing. "Don't get him started."

"Okay, so what brings you to Aquesta?" Albert asked. "I'm guessing it's not to celebrate Wintertide."

"We're going to break Degan Gaunt out of the palace dungeon, and we'll need you for the usual inside work," Royce said.

"Really? You do know he's going to be executed on Wintertide, don't you?"

"Yeah, that's why we need to get moving. It would be bad if we were late," Hadrian added.

"Are you crazy? The palace? At Wintertide? You've heard about this little wedding that's going on? Security might be a tad tighter than usual. Every day I see a line of men in the courtyard, signing up to join the guard."

"Your point?" Hadrian asked.

"We should be able to use the wedding to our advantage," Royce said. "Anyone we know in town yet?"

"Genny and Leo arrived recently, I think."

"Really? That's perfect. Get in touch. They'll have rooms in the palace for sure. See if they can get you in. Then find out all you can, especially about where they're keeping Gaunt."

"I'm going to need money. I was only planning to attend a few local balls and maybe one of the feasts. If you want me inside the palace, I'll have to get better clothes. By Mar, look at my shoes. Just look at them! I can't meet the empress in these."

"Borrow from Genny and Leo for now," Royce said. "I'm going to leave for Medford tonight and return with funds to cover our expenses."

"You're going back? Tonight?" Albert asked. "You just got here, didn't you?"

The thief nodded.

"She's okay," Hadrian assured Royce. "I'm sure she got out."

"We've got nearly a month to Wintertide," Royce said. "I should be back in a week or so. In the meantime, learn what you can, and we'll formulate a plan when I return."

"Well," Albert grumbled, "at least Wintertide won't be boring."

Into Darkness

Someone was whimpering.

It was a man's voice this time, one that Arista had heard before. Everyone cried eventually. Some people even broke down into fits of hysterics. There used to be a woman who was prone to screaming, but she had been removed some time ago. Arista held no illusions about the woman being set free. She had heard them drag the body away. The whimpering man used to cry out but had grown quieter over the last few days. He never wailed anymore. Although not long ago, she heard him praying. Arista was surprised that he did not ask for rescue or even a quick death. All he prayed for was her. He asked Maribor to keep her safe, but in all his ramblings, the princess never caught the name of the man's lover.

There was no way to track the passage of time in the dark. Arista tried counting meals, but her hunger suggested they came less than once per day. Still, weeks must have passed since her capture. In all that time, she never heard Gaunt despite having called out to him. The only time she had actually heard his voice was the night she and Hilfred failed to rescue him.

Since then, she had been confined to her cell, which contained only a pail for waste and a few handfuls of straw. The room was so small that she could touch all four walls at once, making it feel like a cage or a grave. Arista knew that Modina, the girl once known as Thrace, had also been kept somewhere just like this. Perhaps even in that very cell. After losing everyone and everything that mattered to her, it would have been a nightmare to wake alone in the dark without explanation, cause, or reason. Not knowing where she was or how she got there had driven the girl mad.

Arista had her own share of loss but knew she was not alone in the world. Once the news of her disappearance reached him, her brother Alric would move the world to save her. The two had grown closer in the years since their father's death. He was no longer the privileged boy and she no longer the jealous, reclusive sister. They still had their arguments, but nothing would stop him from finding her. Alric would enlist the help of the Pickerings-her extended family. He might even call on Royce and Hadrian, whom Alric affectionately referred to as the Royal Protectors. It would not be long now.

Arista pictured Hadrian's lopsided smile. The image stung, but her mind refused to let it go. Memories of the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand, and that tiny scar on his chin pulled at her heart. There were moments of warmth but only kindness on his part, only sympathy-compassion for a person in pain or need. To him, Arista was just the princess, his employer, his job, just one more desperate noble.

How empty an existence I've led that those few I count among my best friends are two people I paid to work for me.

She wanted to believe Hadrian saw her as something special, that the time they had spent on the road together endeared her to him-that it meant as much to Hadrian as it did to her. Arista hoped he considered her smarter or more capable than most. But even if he did, men did not want smart or capable. They wanted pretty. Arista was not pretty like Alenda Lanaklin or Lenare Pickering. If only Hadrian saw her the way Emery and Hilfred had.