Angel's Deceit (Angelwar Book 2) Read online

  Vixen’s response cut off mid-word with an oomph, and as the door opened, Tol saw her doubled over as if struck. Katarina slammed the door shut and coolly popped the latch into place. She turned round and folded her arms, regarding Tol with a veiled expression.

  ‘You’re alive.’

  Something about the way Katarina said it put him on edge; it sounded almost like an accusation. He nodded, feeling like he was on uncertain ground. Katarina wore a troubled frown, and her face looked drawn, older. He got the sense that if he said the wrong thing, she would pounce. No change there then.

  ‘Well? Can you talk?’

  Apparently, silence wasn’t the right response either. He nodded again. ‘Was there just the two of them?’

  ‘The assassins? Yes.’ Katarina’s expression seemed to soften, and she unfolded her arms, the two limbs seemingly lost for a moment as they moved this way and that before finally settling nervously at her side. ‘We need to talk, Steven.’ She took a step away from the door, deeper into the room.

  Tol jerked where he sat in the bath, water splashing up around him. ‘I’m naked,’ he protested, cursing himself for the note of girlish panic in his voice. The bath is not a naked man’s friend – not when women are around and the water is cooling.

  Katarina ignored his objection and continued towards the bath. ‘Yes,’ she remarked drily, ‘that is generally how we bathe at home as well.’ A couple more paces and she reached the tin bath, perching on the lip halfway along, her back towards Tol’s feet. ‘Do not be concerned; your smallclothes had so many holes in them that it left very little to the imagination when your friend and I removed your trousers last night.’

  Tol sputtered and she smiled, a brief moment of amusement that passed too soon. ‘You really should consider investing in sturdier smallclothes,’ she said. ‘You would not find me in such neglected attire.’ She grinned mischievously. ‘Unless, of course, such a lack of fabric was part of the design. I hear the Meracians are quite keen on such items.’

  Tol choked, blushing furiously. ‘But…’

  ‘Or are you concerned for other reasons? Perhaps the water has cooled sufficiently to… lessen your presence, shall we say?’ Her hand dropped down, and came up a moment later, fingers flicking water over Tol’s face. ‘Not so cold, I think.’

  ‘Your father…’

  Her face darkened. ‘Is not here. Perhaps I shall leave this out of my report to him. Or perhaps honesty is the best policy, don’t you think?’

  ‘I guess.’

  Katarina’s gaze didn’t wander, it stayed rooted to Tol’s face, never drifting down. He felt sure that if their situations were reversed he wouldn’t be able to say the same. ‘You should be dead,’ she said.

  Tol jerked back in surprise, several droplets of water landing on Katarina. ‘Well if that’s what you want, you’ll get your wish soon enough and it will be a bloody relief not to have you screeching in my ear and telling me how stupid I am!’ The words came out before he realised what he was saying, and he snapped his mouth shut before he could say anything more.

  Katarina calmly brushed a few drops of water from her face. ‘Is that what you really think?’ she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  Tol took a breath. ‘No. I’m just…’

  ‘A little shaken after last night? It is understandable.’ A little sigh escaped her, and Katarina patted Tol’s shoulder. ‘I am relieved you are alive, Steven, truly I am. Is there any lasting damage from the poison?’

  ‘I don’t think so, I’m just sore and tired.’

  ‘And that is what concerns me.’

  Tol frowned, Katarina’s deep brown eyes almost hypnotic in front of him. ‘Well, I’m sorry if I gave you a scare but I should be fine in a day or two.’

  ‘I’m afraid we don’t have that long,’ Katarina told him, ‘but you misunderstand me: my point is that you survived one of the world’s most deadly poisons. It is nearly always fatal, and those who don’t die end up crippled or otherwise infirmed. How is it that you alone are hale?’

  ‘Maybe it was only a small dose,’ Tol said, panic rising as he realised what Katarina was trying to discover. He had hidden the existence of his bond with Kalashadria, as well as the changes ingesting her blood seemed to have brought. Of everyone, it was Katarina most of all he wanted to hide it from.

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘A small dose of hanwell root is no less deadly than a large one. One does not simply recover.’ She leaned over the bath, her right hand cupping Tol’s jaw and angling his head towards her so that their eyes met. ‘I am asking as your friend, not my father’s agent; do I not deserve honesty from my friend?’ Her voice dropped. ‘How are you still alive?’

  Tol hesitated. More than anything he was afraid what Katarina would think of him if she knew the truth. ‘Just chance, I guess.’

  ‘I see.’ She rose swiftly, her face unreadable. ‘The Lords’ Council meets tomorrow morning and one of the traitors still lives. You must finish what you started, and it must be done tonight.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Tol called after her as she walked away towards the door, ‘I did what I thought I had to.’

  Katarina stopped and bowed her head. ‘And you were right.’ She covered the last few paces to the door and turned back to face Tol. ‘Drayken’s men will be expecting you.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Stetch will accompany you.’

  Tol sat up. ‘I thought you said this wasn’t Sudalrese business?’

  ‘A contact in Meracian Intelligence revealed to me that the Royal Spymaster was a puppet of Drayken; it was he who ordered the deaths of my countrymen.’ She smiled humourlessly. ‘That makes it a Sworn matter.’ Katarina’s hand reached behind her to fumble for the latch, her eyes rooted soullessly on Tol. ‘If Meracia falls, the other nations will follow. My father refuses to accept Sudalra will fall also, but I see the truth; you must kill Drayken tonight or damn us all.’

  ‘You could tell your father that I asked for your help,’ Tol suggested.

  ‘Not all of us lie to those whom we hold dearest.’ Katarina sighed. ‘We will not meet again, Tol Kraven. Be careful your lies don’t catch up with you.’

  The latch clicked and Tol’s heart sank as Katarina opened the door. Now they were about to part ways, he realised how much he valued the Sudalrese noblewoman’s company. True, she was acerbic and by turns irritating and condescending, but again and again Katarina had helped him – and Tol still wasn’t sure exactly why. Somewhere amid all the lies they had become friends – cautious and more fractious than most, perhaps, but still friends. And as the door swung wide Tol knew he had pushed her away, and that today was nothing more than the final lie in a pattern he had held to for as long as he could remember. Knights do not lie, Father Michael had told him many times – every time the old man had known but been unable to prove Tol’s deceit.

  ‘Last night was the second time I should have died,’ Tol said, his voice hoarse and broken.

  Katarina stopped and closed the door quietly, but she didn’t turn around. Her hand remained on the latch, her head slightly bowed. ‘Yes?’

  ‘What she did… it changed me, made me heal quicker. That’s how I survived the poison, I think.’

  Katarina finally turned to face him. ‘But that is not the whole truth, is it? What did she do?’

  ‘I cannot tell you.’

  ‘Then you are truly her creature.’ Katarina opened the door, her gaze lingering on Tol one last time. ‘Goodbye, Steven.’

  Tol sank down into the bath.

  39.

  ‘You have visitors, milady.’

  ‘I thought I was clear on this, Barnabas: no visitors.’

  ‘They were most persuasive, milady.’

  Suranna placed her cup on the table and looked up at her butler to find three dishevelled women crowding around him. They were wearing grey woollen dresses that had seen better days and were most commonly seen in church convents. The swords, though, were less common to nuns.


  One of them was huge, a plain-faced woman with thick arms who might once have smelted ore for a living. The one holding Barnabas was likewise sturdy, but with a dangerous, wild look to her eyes that made Suranna wonder if reason had any place left to hide in that skull. The third was markedly different, a tall, willowy woman with light hair possessed of that kind of poise Suranna saw only in the nobility; a woman with enough self-assurance to look at home in any circumstance. The leader, she guessed.

  ‘Has the church resorted to strong-arm methods for raising donations?’ Suranna asked.

  ‘We are looking for Tol Kraven.’

  ‘That’s nice for you, but I hardly think my butler can help you.’

  ‘Tell us where he is,’ hissed the mad one, the knife at Barnabas’ neck quavering. ‘We know you met him – tell us or your man dies!’

  Suranna shrugged her shoulders and turned away from those unsettling eyes, instead addressing the leader. ‘I find it quite disappointing he failed to follow my instructions,’ she told the nun. ‘Kill him if you will, I dare say I can find a more dutiful replacement.’ She glanced at the butler. ‘Perhaps even someone who won’t be bested by a couple of strays.’

  ‘Strays?’ the knife-wielder snarled. ‘We’re the Sisterguard!’

  ‘The… No, I can’t say I’ve heard of you.’

  ‘Keep it up,’ the woman snarled, ‘and mine will be the last face you see.’

  ‘Enough, Morafin,’ the nuns’ leader snapped. Her attention swung back to Suranna. ‘Baiting an armed woman is not likely to end well for you,’ she said mildly. ‘Especially one who has been through as much as my sisters and I have.’

  ‘And forcing your way into my home at sword-point is equally liable to end poorly for you. I do not find myself disposed to help you, although I am tempted a little, just for the entertainment when you try and kill Sir Tol and he cuts you into tiny pieces. I might rather enjoy watching that.’

  ‘Then you will be disappointed; we are not here to kill Kraven. I am Rachel.’ She gestured to the large woman who stood off to Suranna’s left – a safe distance from the knife-wielder. ‘That’s Bruna, and Morafin is the one with the knife. We are, as Morafin said, the Sisterguard. We swore an oath to the mother of our convent to help Tol Kraven; that is why we are here.’

  Suranna gave them all a second look. Once you got past the torn clothes and dirt, the women looked like survivors; slightly stunned survivors who maybe couldn’t believe their luck, but survivors nonetheless. ‘He seems to be doing quite well without you.’

  ‘I do not think it will last long, we saved him twice in Norve. The boy is bound to get himself into trouble again – and by the rumours of what happened to you and Kraven the other night, it might already have happened.’

  ‘Yes,’ Suranna reluctantly admitted, ‘killing the son of Meracia’s most powerful lord might make things difficult.’ It was Suranna who had killed Lord Drayken’s son, but Sir Tol had taken the blame for it. Until she knew she could trust these nuns, Suranna thought it might be better to keep that bit of knowledge to herself. ‘Tell me what happened in Norve and I will judge whether you deserve my aid.’

  Suranna listened as Rachel detailed the nuns’ ordeal in Norve, and how the Band of Blood had turned up at the convent minutes behind Tol Kraven. Intent, according to Rachel, upon finding some church relic. The item – the nun carefully avoided mentioning exactly what it was – was entrusted to Tol Kraven, and the sisters were despatched ahead of him to lay false trails in the snow.

  The ruse, it seemed, worked, although one of the nuns was found and killed by the mercenaries. Later, the three surviving women had met up and – after hearing the death-screams of their sisters – had decided to track down Tol Kraven and make sure he kept the promise he had made at the convent. They had followed in his wake, and arrived at Karnvost too late to witness the angel’s arrival. Undeterred, the nuns pushed eastward and caught up with Tol and the Knights Reve near the docks as they engaged the city guards in a fight. Suranna whistled as Rachel told her how the three had waded in and fought side by side with the church’s elite knights, allowing Tol to make his escape to the sea.

  ‘I heard about the fight in the city,’ Suranna said. ‘That was you?’

  Rachel nodded. ‘We found out later that the lord who commanded the guards had been turned by agents of the Gurdal.’

  ‘Didn’t get thanked for helping the knights though,’ Morafin added sourly.

  ‘And now you’ve followed Sir Tol here.’

  ‘We heard from the knights that the angel had chosen him,’ Rachel said. ‘We figured he would end up here on his way to the Spur.’ She frowned. ‘We were expecting him to have left by now.’

  ‘Yes,’ Suranna said thoughtfully, ‘I rather thought he would have left, too. I am beginning to suspect Sir Tol has another purpose here.’

  ‘We need to find him.’

  ‘I think I know which area of the city Sir Tol is staying in; if you’d be so good as to release Barnabas we should go and find him. And do try not to harm him: Barnabas has his faults, but the man does brew a nice pot of tea.

  ‘You do not need to come with us, just tell us where Kraven is.’

  ‘Oh, I’d quite like to see him again, too,’ Suranna said, ‘and if he is in some kind of trouble you could use all the help you can get.’ She looked the three women up and down. ‘Perhaps starting with a tailor.’

  *

  Duke val Sharvina stared over his teacup at his wife. She was only twelve feet away, seated in an armchair across the sitting room, but it felt like leagues. Recently she had seemed distant, even troubled. Their marriage had lasted so long because each understood the other; they gave each other space and time, and were friends as much as lovers. His duties as Sudalra’s spymaster kept them apart often, but something had changed these last days and he could feel the duchess slipping away. Another man? the Black Duke wondered. He thought it unlikely, but with so little time to themselves it was certainly a possibility. But Grace has never strayed before – why now? He sipped his tea, finally deciding that his wife would have hid such a dalliance far more effectively. She has, after all, learned from the best. Years of dealing with the Sworn and other Sudalrese assets as well as her own husband had instilled a deep understanding of the spying game in his wife; it was, to some extent, unavoidable. Besides, he had warned his wife what would happen if she ever betrayed him.

  ‘Sooner or later,’ he had told the young duchess on the morning after their wedding, ‘someone will try and kill you.’

  ‘The possibility had occurred to me,’ his wife replied, only her head visible above the bed covers.

  ‘The Sworn will never be far away,’ he told her, ‘and one will always be with you when you leave the castle.’

  Of all the responses, he had not expected his wife to giggle. ‘Is there one here? Perhaps hidden in the wardrobe?’

  He smiled. ‘I hope not. It is more likely,’ Duke val Sharvina continued, ‘that our enemies will try and blackmail you for information or turn you against me.’ He paused. ‘Revealing an affair, for example.’

  ‘I think it’s a little early to be embarking on an affair just yet,’ the duchess had replied drily. ‘I thought I might give our marriage a chance first.’

  No, the duke decided, it is something else troubling her. I cannot believe Grace would betray me – and certainly not our family, our country. Whatever was troubling his wife was something she had elected not to share with him. He couldn’t remember that ever happening before.

  ‘Something on your mind, Valtas?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘You were staring,’ his wife told him. ‘Is something wrong?’

  Duke val Sharvina lowered his teacup. ‘I was just about to ask you the same thing. You do not seem your usual self.’

  ‘I am worried about the children.’

  The duke sighed in relief. So that’s what it is. ‘We have to let them find their own way,’ he said.

  ‘But three
of them in the east? I don’t like it, Valtas. If anything were to happen, they are far from help. By the time we learned they were in trouble it would already be too late.’

  ‘They are all capable,’ he argued, ‘and only Victoria is truly alone. But,’ he raised a finger, ‘her assignment is the safest of all. Get to know Prince Julien and report back – I fail to see what could possibly go awry.’

  ‘That,’ the duchess told him, ‘is because you are not a mother. Our son is in the middle of what is about to become a battlefield, Katarina is hunting for spies with nothing more than a single bodyguard and a northern savage for company, and Victoria… that girl never does what she is told.’ The duchess leaned forward, her eyes pleading. ‘We could lose all of them, Valtas.’

  ‘You would have me recall them? I cannot, even if I wish to. Who else could I send in their places? No, it is too late. And even if I ordered them home, can you imagine the strife it would cause? How can I command the Sworn when I am unwilling to allow my children to take the same risks?’ The duke threw his hands up in the air. ‘Not to mention the children’s reaction! Can you imagine the stink Katarina would cause when she found out? The girl is so stubborn she would probably stay in Meracia just to spite me, and when she finally did return the child would be unbearable for weeks – we would never hear the end of it!’

  ‘She takes after her father.’

  Duke val Sharvina sputtered helplessly, momentarily lost for words. ‘She is strong-willed,’ he eventually conceded.

  ‘She thinks she is being punished.’

  ‘What? Why in the world would she think that? How is sending her to Meracia punishment?’

  ‘Your choice of companion,’ his wife replied. ‘She thinks he has been foisted on her as some form of punishment.’ The duchess smiled. ‘I would wager that Stetch feels much the same. You never did tell me why you paired those two together.’

  ‘She is my youngest daughter,’ Duke val Sharvina said quietly. ‘I sent the best man for the job to protect her.’ He raised a finger in warning. ‘But never let him find out, that man is almost as stubborn as her.’