Michael Sullivan: Wintertide

"I thought you were sick and feeble."

"I said I was weak not feeble, and I'm not that weak. If you won't get me something to eat, the least you can do is help warm my bed."

"I don't think that is the least I can do. Yes, I can definitely think of less."

He furrowed his brow at her. "You know, I'm gonna be the emperor just as soon as I get well enough. You might want to be nicer to me. We can keep this thing going, even after the wedding. I expect I'll have several ladies in waiting, if you know what I mean. I'll be taking good care of them, too. This is your chance to get in early and be the first."

"And what exactly does that mean?"

"Oh, you know. I take care of you. Give you a room here at the palace. See that you get some fine dresses. That kind of stuff."

"I already have those things."

"Sure, but you might not after I take over. This way you can make sure that your future is protected. So, what do you say?"

"Remarkably, I think I will pass."

"Suit yourself." Gaunt waved her away. "But hey, if you do see a maid, tell her to get her ass in here and get rid of this pot, okay?"

When Modina reached the stair, she met a gate soldier climbing up.

"Your Eminence." He approached, bowed, and waited.

"Yes?" she asked.

"A man at the palace gate is requesting an audience."

"What? Now?"

"Yes, Your Eminence. I told him it wasn't possible."

"It's getting kind of late. Ask him to see the palace clerk in the morning."

"I already told him that, but he says he and his family must leave at first light. They came for Wintertide, and he wanted to make one last attempt to see you before departing. He said you would know him."

"Did he give you his name?"

"Yes, Russell Bothwick of Dahlgren."

Modina lit up. "Where is he now?"

"I had him wait at the gate."

When she lived in Dahlgren, the Bothwicks had been as close as family. They had taken her in after the death of her mother, and the excitement of seeing her old friends overtook Modina. She trotted down the stairs to the main entry, causing the guards to rush to open the huge double doors for her. Modina hurried into the snowy courtyard and regretted not bringing a cloak the moment she stepped outside. The night was dark, and as she crossed the courtyard toward the front gate, she realized she could have used a lantern as well. Seeing Russell and Lena was too good to be true. She would give them the finest suite in the palace and stay up all night reminiscing about old times…better times.

As she passed the stable, a voice close by said, "Thrace?"

She spun around and was surprised to find Royce there. "What are you doing out here? Come with me to the gate. The Bothwicks are here."

"I want you to know I am very sorry about this," Royce told her.

"About what?"

He had a sad expression in his eyes as one hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled for a moment, but it was over quickly. The last thing she heard was his voice whispering in her ear, "I'm sorry."

The palace bell rang before dawn. Hadrian and the other residents of the third floor stepped into the hallway. Arista wore Esrahaddon's glimmering robe, and Degan Gaunt yawned while clutching a blanket around his shoulders.

Amilia and Breckton led a troop of guards into the corridor.

"Have any of you seen the empress?"

"Not since last night," Arista said.

"What's going on?" Gaunt grumbled irritably. This was the first time Hadrian had seen him since the dungeon.

"The empress is missing," Breckton announced. He motioned to the soldiers, who opened doors and swept into the rooms.

"So what's all the fuss? Check the quarters of the best-looking servant," Gaunt said. "She probably just fell asleep afterward."

"Bishop Saldur is also missing," Breckton said. "The guard at the tower and two gate sentries are dead as well."

The soldiers finished searching the rooms and returned to the hallway.

"How could Saldur have gotten out?" Arista asked. "And why would he take Modina?"

Hadrian glanced at her and then at the floor. "It wasn't Saldur."

"But who could have-" Arista started.

Hadrian interrupted her, "Royce took her. He has taken them both. 'White's pawn takes queen and bishop.' It's the Queen's Gambit and Royce has accepted."

Langdon Bridge Directly overhead the full moon peered through a break in the clouds, making the Bernum River glisten like a dark, oily snake as it wound through the heart of Colnora. Numerous warehouses perched on the high banks, sleeping like behemoths on the cold winter night. Far from the residential neighborhoods, the mercantile district was desolate at this hour. Frost-covered lampposts fashioned in the shapes of swans dotted the length of the Langdon Bridge, illuminating icicles hanging from every ledge and ornament. Snow started to fall once more, and fluffy flakes caught in the lamplight twirled and drifted on air currents rising from the river gorge. The sound of the Bernum roared up from the depths like some monstrous, insatiable beast.

Royce stood in the shadows on the north side of the bridge. Despite the cold, he was drenched in sweat. Behind him, Saldur and Modina stood silently with their wrists tied behind their backs. Royce did not use gags-they were not required. He had given his prisoners several reasons to remain silent.

Extracting Saldur from the prison tower had been easy enough. The ex-regent offered no resistance and obeyed every whispered command promptly and quietly. Royce had been disappointed, as he was eager for any excuse to correct that particular captive's behavior. Modina was another matter. He honestly regretted taking her. He simply had no choice. Royce had squeezed her neck with the least amount of pressure and for the shortest interval necessary to drop her painlessly into unconsciousness. He was certain she woke with a terrible headache but suffered no other harm.

Royce studied the warehouses on the far side of the bridge. One had a four-leaf clover painted on its side. That was the place where he had mistakenly killed Merrick's lover. It happened back when all three of them were assassins in the Black Diamond Thieves Guild. Jade's tomb. He worried about the message Merrick was sending with his choice of location.

After glancing up again and checking the location of the moon, Royce lit a lantern and stepped into the street. Two nerve-wracking moments later, another light appeared in reply from the far end of the bridge. Merrick was there. And Gwen was with him.

She's alive!

Royce's heart leapt. Relief mixed with anxiety. She was so close, yet not close enough. No one else was visible-the Black Diamond was conspicuously absent. Royce had expected members of the thieves' guild to descend the instant he entered the city. Either Merrick had arranged for safe passage, or they decided they did not want any part of this transaction.

"Show them," Merrick's voice carried on the cool, crisp air.

Royce motioned and Modina and Saldur stepped from the shadows next to him.

"I'll double your reward for this, Marius," Saldur shouted. "You'll be Marquis of Melengar. I'll-" He cried out in pain as Royce dragged Alverstone along his shoulder blade. The gleaming knife sliced through the regent's robes and into his skin.

"Did we forget our agreement?" Royce hissed.

Royce looked at Modina, who stood quiet and still. The empress displayed no fear, anger, or malice. She did not struggle. She merely waited.

"Send them across," Merrick ordered.

"Don't run, Saldur," Royce said. "You need to match Gwen's pace. I'm good at throwing a dagger, and you won't be out of my range until you reach the bridge's midpoint. If you pass it before she does, it will be the last step you ever take."