Dance of Thieves (Dance of Thieves 1) - Page 145

He squinted an eye. “About what?”

“It’s between me and her, you bastard; go get her.” His eyes sparked and his fingers twitched and I knew I was about to get a mouthful of knuckles from a man three times my size and I added, “Please.”

* * *

Kazi rode back, her face shining with sweat, a tense crease between her brows. “What is it?” she asked. “I need to stay with the other prisoners. They’re jumpy.”

So was she. She looked at me, waiting, impatient, and I realized what I had to say didn’t really matter anymore.

“Jase,” she said, trying to hurry me along.

I blurted something else out instead. “Will I get a chance to speak?”

“Yes,” she answered. “When you stand before the queen to answer to the charges. She’ll hear you out.”

“At her bedside? Is she dying?”

“What?”

“You said she was unable to travel and was confined to her bed. I thought that maybe—”

“No. It’s nothing like that. Her physician ordered no travel. She miscarried her first child, and now she’s expecting again.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

KAZI

Scouts had ridden ahead of us, so long before we arrived the news had spread. By the time we neared the gates of Marabella, large crowds had gathered. Soldiers lined our path to keep everyone back, but mostly the crowd was still and surprisingly silent. A deathly pall had fallen as if ghosts rode at our sides. These were not prisoners they ever expected to see. Mouths hung open. Eyes glistened. A man as big as Griz wept. They may not have recognized Beaufort and Torback, but they knew Governor Sarva and Chievdar Kardos. I watched the stunned faces fill with terror and then hatred. No doubt many had experienced loss at these men’s hands or knew someone who had. Sarva and Kardos looked straight ahead, refusing to meet their gazes.

Beaufort began looking around, his head craning back nervously.

“Still expecting a rescue?” I asked.

He looked at me, and that was when I saw real terror. He’d never expected to face the queen again—at least not on her terms. He had thought his patience would pay off once more, and he would never meet his fate.

“It’s over, Captain. No one is coming for you. This is the end of the line.”

His face contorted as if struggling with this truth and finally his lip lifted in a snarl as he scrutinized me. He shook his head with disgust. “By worthless street trash. By a crapcake like you.”

That’s right. By someone like me.

A drop of sweat trickled over his half-moon scar. “It will never be over. Not now. A door has been unlocked. More like me will always come.”

“Maybe so. But more like me will always be there to stop them.”

He looked over his shoulder one last time, as if still hopeful, but all he saw were the Vendan crowds closing in, erasing the path behind him.

* * *

I clutched the jail log in my hand. As lead on the mission, it was my job to present it to the queen—the names of the prisoners we had delivered into the warden’s custody. She would address the prisoners later.

I sat on a stone bench outside her personal chamber, waiting, my knee bouncing. I fingered the wish stalk in my pocket that I had bought from a merchant just outside the outpost walls.

A servant opened the door, and I jumped to my feet. “The queen will see you now,” she said. I was escorted in and the servant left. The room was cool and dim. The sweet fragrance of roses hung in the air. With the curtains drawn, I didn’t see her at first.

“Kazimyrah,” she said softly, walking toward me. She was in a dressing gown and her hair was loose around her shoulders.

I dropped to a knee. “Your Majesty.”

Tags: Mary E. Pearson Dance of Thieves Fantasy
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