Red Seas Under Red Skies: The Gentleman Bastard Sequence, Book Two (Gentleman Bastards 2)

‘Master Kosta, we can discuss this. You must know that I am a reasonable and extremely wealthy man—’

‘All right, you do know who the hell I am,’ said Locke, disquieted. ‘And I don’t give a shit about your money. I’m here to—’

‘In my place, you would have done the same,’ said Cordo. ‘It was business is all, just business. Spare me, and let that too be a business decision, based on gain of gold, jewels, fine alchemicals—’

‘Master Cordo,’ said Locke, ‘look, I—’ He scowled, turned to the servant. ‘Is this man, ah, senile?’

‘He’s absolutely competent,’ she answered coldly.

‘I assure you I am,’ roared Cordo. Anger changed his countenance utterly. ‘And I will not be put off from business by assassins in my own bedroom! Now, you will either kill me immediately or negotiate the price of my release!’

‘Master Cordo,’ said Locke, ‘tell me two things, and be perfectly bloody clear about them both. First, how do you know who I am? Second, why do you think I’m here to kill you?’

‘I was shown your faces,’ said Cordo, ‘in a pool of water.’

‘In a pool of—’ Locke felt his stomach lurch. ‘Oh, damn, by a—’

‘By a Karthani Bondsmage, representing his guild on a personal matter. Surely you now realize—’

‘You,’ said Locke. ‘I’d have done the same in your place, is what you said. You’ve been sending those gods-damned assassins after us! Those fuckers at the docks, that barkeeper with the poison, those teams of men on Festa night—’

‘Obviously,’ said Cordo. ‘And you’ve been elusive, unfortunately. With a bit of help from Maxilan Stragos, I believe.’

‘Unfortunately? Unfortunately? Cordo, you have no idea what a lucky son of a bitch you are that they didn’t succeed! What did the Bondsmagi tell you?’

‘Come now. Surely your own plans—’

‘Tell me in their words or I will kill you!’

‘That you are a threat to the Priori, and that in light of sums paid for their services previously, they thought it in their best interests to tender a warning of your presence.’

‘To the Inner Seven, you mean.’

‘Yes.’

‘You stupid bastards,’ said Locke. ‘The Bondsmagi used you, Cordo. Think on that next time you consider giving them money. We - Master de Ferra and myself - are on their fuck-with list, and they tossed us between you and Stragos for a laugh. That’s all! We didn’t come here to do anything to the Priori.’

‘So you say—’

‘Why aren’t I murdering you right now, then?’

‘A simultaneously pleasing and vexing point,’ said Cordo, biting his lip.

‘The fact is,’ said Locke, ‘that for reasons which are forever going to remain way the hell beyond your understanding, I’ve broken into your manor to do one thing - give you the head of Maxilan Stragos on a platter.’

‘What?’

‘Not literally. I have plans for that head, actually. But I know how gods-damned happy you’d be to have the Archonate kicked over like an ant hill, so I’m only going to say this once: I mean to remove Maxilan Stragos from power permanently, and I mean to do it tonight. I must have your help.’

‘But ... you are some sort of agent of the Archon—’

‘Jerome and I are unwilling agents,’ said Locke. ‘Stragos’s personal alchemist gave us a latent poison. So long as Stragos controls the antidote, we can serve him or die pretty awfully. But the fucker just had to keep pushing us, and now he’s pushed too far.’

‘You could be . . . you could be provocateurs, sent by Stragos to—’

‘What, test your loyalty? In what court, under what oath, before what law? Same question as before, this time in relation to the idiotic conjecture that I actually do Stragos’s bidding - why aren’t I murdering you, then?’

‘As to that . . . a fair point.’

‘Here,’ said Locke, moving around the bed to sit beside Cordo. ‘Have a dagger.’ He tossed his blade into the old man’s lap. At that moment, there was a pounding on the door.

‘Father! Father, one of the servants is injured! Are you well? Father, I’m coming in!’

‘My son has a key,’ said the elder Cordo as the click of it sounded in the door mechanism.

‘Ah,’ said Locke, ‘I’ll be needing this back, then.’ He snatched up his dagger again, stood beside Cordo and pointed it at the old man in a vaguely threatening fashion. ‘Hold still. This won’t take but a minute.’

A well-built man in his mid-thirties burst into the room, an ornate rapier in his hands. Lyonis Cordo, second-tier Priori, his father’s only heir and a widower for several years. Perhaps the most eligible bachelor in all of Tal Verrar, all the more notable in that he rarely visited the Sinspire.

‘Father! Alacyn!’ Lyonis took a step into the room, brandishing his weapon with a flourish and spreading his arms to block the door. ‘Release them, you bastards! The household guards are roused, and you’ll never make it down to the—’

‘Oh, for Perelandro’s sake, I’m not even going to pretend,’ said Locke. He passed the dagger back to the elder Cordo, who held it between two fingers like some sort of captured insect. ‘Look. There. What sort of whimsical assassin am I, then? Sheathe your sword, shut the door and open your ears. We have a lot of business to discuss.’

‘I . . . but—’

‘Lyonis,’ said the elder Cordo, ‘this man may be out of his mind, but as he says, neither he nor his partner are assassins. Put up your weapon and tell the guards to . . .’ He turned to Locke suspiciously. ‘Did you badly injure any of my people breaking in, Kosta?’

‘One slight bump on the head,’ said Locke. ‘Do it all the time. He’ll be fine, whoever he is.’

‘Very well.’ Marius sighed and passed the dagger fussily back to Locke, who tucked it back into his belt. ‘Lyonis, tell the guards to stand down. Then lock the door again and be seated.’

‘May I go, if nobody’s going to be doing any assassinating in these chambers?’ asked Alacyn.

‘No. Sorry. You’ve already heard too much. Take a seat and get comfortable while you listen to the rest.’ Locke turned to the elder Cordo. ‘Look, for obvious reasons, she cannot leave this house until our business is done tonight, right?’

‘Of all the—’

‘No, Alacyn, he’s right.’ The elder Cordo waved his hands placatingly. ‘Too much rides on this, and if you’re loyal to me you know it. If, forgive me, you’re not, you know it all the more. I’ll have you confined to the study, where you’ll be comfortable. And I’ll compensate you very, very handsomely for this, I promise.’

Released by Jean, she sat down in a corner and folded her arms grumpily. Lyonis, looking as though he doubted his own sanity, briskly dismissed the squad of tough-looking brutes that pounded into the library a moment later, sheathed his rapier and pulled the bedchamber door closed. He leaned back against it, his scowl matching Alacyn’s.

‘Now,’ said Locke, ‘as I was saying, by the end of this night, come hell or Eldren-fire, my partner and I will be in close physical proximity to Maxilan Stragos. One way or another, we are removing him from power. Possibly from life itself, if we have no choice. But in order to get there our way, we’re going to need to demand some things of you. And you must understand, going in, that this is it. This is for real. Whatever your plans are to take the city from Stragos, have them ready to spring. Whatever your measures are to keep his army and navy tied down until you can remind them who pays their salaries, activate them.’

‘Remove Stragos?’ Lyonis looked simultaneously awed and alarmed. ‘Father, these men are mad—’

‘Quiet, Lyo.’ The elder Cordo raised his hand. ‘These men claim to be in a unique position to effect our desired change. And they have . . . declined to harm me for certain actions already taken against them. We will hear them out.’

‘Good,’ said Locke. ‘Here’s what you need to understand. In a couple of hours, Master de Ferra and I are going to be arrested by the Eyes of the Archon as we leave the Sinspire—’

‘Arrested?’ said Lyonis. ‘How can you know—’

‘Because I’m going to set an appointment,’ said Locke. ‘And I’m going to ask Stragos to have us arrested.’