Silver Serpent, Page 2

  “I’ll have you know this is based on the Silver Serpent costume. Of course, things are a little different—I don’t have breasts. But the only real change is the color.”

  “That’s another thing,” she said. “The Emerald Adder? Really?”

  “You mean you don’t like it?” he asked with genuine surprise. He shook his head and unlaced his vest. “I thought it had a great ring to it.”

  “I thought you and I would talk about what we’d call you, if we called you anything at all. The plan was for you to be covert. I don’t want the Brotherhood to know I have an ally. It’s just one more thing they can use against me.”

  He shrugged as he pulled the vest over his head. “They wouldn’t have been able to use anything against you if I wasn’t there tonight, Marin.”

  The Silver Serpent furrowed her brow and glowered at her companion. “Are we that familiar now, Kelvin?”

  Her tone had him standing upright, and he swallowed away his embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Mistress Cortes. I didn’t mean…”

  Marin leaned back, resting her head against the wall. A slight breeze passed by outside, and she felt the draft beneath the door by her side. With her adrenaline fading again, she noticed how cool it was in her home. Still, her skin felt as if it was on fire. She reached up and lifted the black, etched domino mask off her face.

  The woman was many years older than her protégé—that much was clear. While he was still struggling to grow facial hair, she had a look of wisdom and experience about her. She was still young enough to challenge his energy, but it had all faded that night as she sat on the floor of her cottage.

  Her pupil moved into the adjacent room, and when he returned, he was in more refined clothes. He traded his brown trousers for black ones, his boots were more ornate than functional, and his tunic was etched with professional embroidery.

  Marin, meanwhile, was struggling with her belt. The lad rushed to her side and helped her stand, and she was too weary to fend him off. She leaned on him, tugging the accessory free of her outfit. The jacket was the next to come off, leaving only the flowing white shirt.

  Kelvin couldn’t help but look over his mentor. She had gorgeous caramel-colored skin and curves in all the right places, and though she was twenty years his senior, he would have never guessed it. That wasn’t why he scrutinized her so, however. Bruises were apparent everywhere the shirt did not cover. As he considered them, he also realized he had never seen Marin in such little clothing before and averted his gaze at once.

  She snickered, but he kept his vision drawn to the opposite side of the room. Through the window on the eastern side of the house, he noticed the sun was coming over the far side of the city, the sky just touched by flares of indigo.

  “It’s getting late. Early depending on how you look at it,” she said. “You shouldn’t be gone from your home before the rest of your family wakes. I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue if they thought you were missing.”

  He nodded. “Soon. I’m not leaving until I know you’re all right.”

  “Let’s not forget who cares for who.”

  “Whom,” he corrected, a wide grin splayed across his face.

  Marin narrowed her eyes, but even she could not keep a smile from forming, despite her weariness and her battered body. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Once I get some steam from a nice bath, everything will be just as I want it.”

  The lad was already in motion, heading to a back room of the house. When he emerged once more, he had a bucket full of coals and wore an eager grin as he set to work. In time, they were set beneath the basin, and he took care to heat the water she would use for her bath.

  There was nothing she could say to deter him, Marin was sure. She watched helplessly as he set to work, and she leaned against the wall of the room, breathing in the steam. She still favored that injured leg, though she made no mention of involving a healer or even gathering a brace.

  She was too proud to admit to any pain, Kelvin knew.

  “Thank you,” the Silver Serpent said.

  “This?” he asked. “It’s nothing.”

  The woman was already shaking her head. “No, not this,” she said, “although this is worthy of praise as well. No, I meant thank you for not taking my advice and being out there tonight. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened.”

  “I’ve never seen you overwhelmed like that,” he admitted. “I didn’t come out there to save you. I wanted to watch you work. It was my intention to be your shadow, but I saw a need.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” she muttered. “There were far too many members of the Brotherhood there. And for what? To rob a trading caravan?”

  “From what I saw, those wagons were running low on goods,” Kelvin added. “And I don’t think it was because the stuff had been pilfered. I don’t think they had it to begin with.”

  Marin arched an eyebrow. “You think it was all part of the plan? You think I was the real target?”

  He shrugged. “A thief is one of the oldest professions I know of, but business hasn’t exactly been good while the Silver Serpent has been a part of this city. Maybe they thought if they could take care of you, there wouldn’t be anyone left to stop them. The guards of this city would be overwhelmed.”

  “Those that aren’t in the Brotherhood’s pockets already,” she surmised.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a hefty bounty on your head,” Kelvin said. “Capturing the vigilante of Argos would be a bragging point the likes of which nobody can claim. I’m just happy your identity remains safe.”

  “Shrouded in darkness as always,” Marin said. “Perhaps I should lean back on the unassuming woman I am, instead of my dangerous alter ego.”

  “Somehow I don’t see that lasting long,” he chortled.

  She shrugged and smiled. “That will be fine, Kelvin. Any more than that and I’ll drown when I pass out in there. You’ve got to get back to the castle before anyone sees you’re gone. If they go looking for you, they’ll go to the people who you know. I don’t want them seeing me like this.”

  He swept the basin and the bucket off to the side. Steam rose from the water in the tub in the center of the room, and he breathed it in. As he passed by, Marin squeezed his shoulder and pushed him out toward the front of her home.

  “Make sure you pull that door shut,” she bade.

  As he made his way to the exit, he peered over his shoulder. His mentor slipped the shirt off her shoulders, and that was all he needed to see to look away in embarrassment. With his face growing warm and red, he quickened his step and snuck out of the house, creeping into the dim light of morning.

  *****

  His teeth were gnashed together, and his hand was squeezed around the remnants of the shaft in his shoulder. As he reached for the door, the arrow wobbled, and a flash of light accompanied the sting of the steel, chewing through his muscle. He took a steadying breath and tried the door again, taking his time so as not to jostle that wounded arm.

  “Thoro!” he heard. That voice was as warm as it was hearty, and he knew who greeted him before he understood who was in the tavern that late.

  The Queen’s Dare was as seedy an establishment as one could stumble upon in Argos. Only those who didn’t value their life or didn’t know any better happened to the place, unless they were friends of the owner.

  Thoro was happy to have friends in low places. There were only a few people in the tavern, and all were known to him. He knew it was Heggins who called out to him from behind the bar. The man was like family in some respects.

  And when he saw the arrow jutting out from the younger fellow’s shoulder, that jovial tone shifted in an instant. “Thoro!”

  Heggins started for the counter that swung up, but the lad raised his hand. “I’ll be fine,” he said.

  “What happened to you?” the bartender asked.

  Thoro narrowed his eyes, recalling the events that led him down that path. “The Si
lver Serpent happened.” He braced himself against the nearest table and took time to look at that quavering shaft embedded in his shoulder. “She’s got a new friend who is competent enough with a bow. They got Dazon and Fred, too.”

  “She killed ‘em?” Heggins asked.

  The injured brigand shook his head. “No, but I’ll bet they think it’s all the same. We were meant to bring her in, and we failed. The leaders don’t take kindly to failure. Even if I didn’t know any better, I’d think we’ll be seeing less of those two for a while.”

  “Then why are you here, son?”

  “I’m not the one the Brotherhood should be disappointed with,” Thoro growled. “We expected more of our brothers out there, and lo and behold, none were present. I have half a mind about who is involved, and I’ll let my voice be heard.”

  “Just…be careful is all, all right?” Heggins bade. The bartender sent a nod to a patron near the back of the tavern, who rose from his seat and pushed a hefty cabinet out of the way, revealing a secret doorway to a darkened staircase. “If Brielle is down there, I’d see if she could look at that arrow for you. If you need any alcohol, it’s on the house tonight, no matter if it’s for drinking or for that wound.”

  Thoro passed along a thankful nod and proceeded down those stairs. The cabinet screeched back into place, and he was left in darkness, except for a sliver of light that came from a door down below. Before he had descended the steps, he heard the raucous laughter in the adjacent room.

  Suddenly, all the pain seemed so distant. Thoro pushed forward and slammed open the door, hard enough that the torches in nearby sconces fought not to be extinguished. Silence came to the room, a close facsimile of the one above. Several men jumped from their seats, small crossbows at the ready.

  “Glad to see everyone here is so overjoyed,” the recently arrived brigand spat. “As I understand it, Gaul,” he said, pointing to a random fellow who stood, “you were supposed to be out there with us tonight. And you as well, Saren.” The arrow shook in his arm, and he reached up and snapped it in half, that adrenaline helping him forego the pain. “In fact, just about everyone in this room was supposed to be there tonight, bringing down the Silver Serpent. That was what we agreed on, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it!” he exclaimed.

  A few of those women who sidled up next to or sat atop the scoundrels trembled at the young fellow’s tone. His words made them question their allegiances to the men for only a moment, though. Those men had found success in whatever they did that night—whatever caused them to ignore their plan to capture the Silver Serpent.

  Thoro sighed and looked past those fools, seeing the establishment’s second bartender. The woman, a few years older than him, shook her head. He had seen that look before. He was passionate about a great many things, but that passion often led him into trouble. Stifling a growl, he pushed past the other members of the Brotherhood and took a place at that bar.

  “Remember who you’re among,” the barkeep whispered. “These men respect you enough now, but you know how fickle they can be. If a pretty girl is sitting on their lap and you make them feel inadequate, they won’t hesitate a moment to lay you out on the floor to get their ego back in check.”

  “Subtlety has never been my strong suit, Brielle,” he said. “I can’t keep quiet on a night like tonight.”

  “And what a night it’s been. Now I’m not saying my night’s been anywhere near as bad as yours,” she said, pointing at the remnants of the arrow, “but I should have been out of here four hours ago.”

  “Then why is everyone still here?”

  “Supposedly, they’re waiting for just one more person.”

  “Well, it wasn’t any of the people I was with tonight. The Serpent and her new companion did a number on the lot of us. I don’t think Fred’ll ever use his hand again, and Dazon will likely be able to tell us when it’s going to rain days ahead of time now. This woman is making us older than our years.”

  “Maybe it’s time to find a more respectable line of work.”

  “Says the lass pouring drinks to every scoundrel in Argos.”

  Brielle rolled her eyes. “You know, you think you’re paying me a compliment calling me that, but I’m as bad as any of the lot in this place.”

  “I’ll remember that next time I face down the Serpent and her sidekick. Maybe I’ve just been going about this whole thing wrong.” He growled a little as he considered all the events that transpired that night. “I was this close, Brielle. We had her. If it wasn’t for that man in green, we would have been rid of all her problems forever.”

  “You know, it’s one thing to be a thief and another to be a murderer,” she said. “Just because you wouldn’t be the one drawing the knife across her throat, that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be complicit in her death.”

  “Careful what you’re saying,” he warned. “I can forgive such warm thoughts, but the rest of this lot would laugh at you at best. You’ve got your head in the clouds.”

  “Maybe I do. I’d like to think there’s a better life out there. Neither of us has found it yet, but I know we will—maybe even together.”

  Almost as soon as she finished speaking, they heard the squeal of the cabinet again. Unlike when Thoro made his way down the steps, a light was apparent. When the newest arrival passed through the doorway below, Thoro’s nose wrinkled at the sight of the man who had a meager flame hovering above his hand. He was more than familiar with that fellow.

  When everyone else understood who had arrived, they burst into cheer. That member of the Brotherhood bowed and swept out his arm, taking the congratulations in stride. Even Brielle, farthest from him, saw the burlap sack he held and arched an eyebrow at it from across the room.

  “Three cheers for Jerrod!” one of those other bandits cried.

  The rest of the tavern burst into cheers and applause again, until that latest arrival raised his free hand to placate the crowd. “You did well, lads, and we were victorious. Things couldn’t have gone better tonight.”

  Thoro slammed his glass on the bar—an odd gesture, since Brielle had yet to pour anything into it—and rose from his seat. “Not everyone could say the same, Bodan.”

  Jerrod narrowed his eyes, and that meager flame in his hand extinguished. He pointed his finger at the other brigand and let a smile form on his face. “It was a necessity,” he said. “We needed the distraction to allow us to get into one of the most secure places in Argos. Don’t be angry with me; it was the leaders who made the call. I was just happy to carry out their orders.”

  “And what was so important that you were content with sending our companions to what could have been their deaths? Don’t you think they should have known what they would be doing? Some of them won’t ever be able to wield a sword again. What was worth ruining their way of life?”

  Jerrod lifted that burlap sack, and everyone in attendance saw the item inside glow.

  That vague response wasn’t enough to placate Thoro. Rather, it incited him, and he let his healthy arm slide down toward the rapier on his hip.

  Brielle leaned over the bar and grasped him by his shoulder. When he turned, she flashed a sympathetic gaze. “We should probably get the rest of that arrow out of you. We wouldn’t want it to stay in there and fester. I heard wood left inside the body rots, and it could end up spreading poison through you.”

  He knew what she was doing. A deep sigh pushed through his lungs, and he offered up a nod as she drew past the bar, hopping up over the one corner. She led him toward one of those adjacent rooms—the one she called her own, he knew. That one on the opposite side of the main sitting area belonged to the Brotherhood’s leaders. Those long-serving members of the guild of scoundrels rarely left the room while others were present, and that was true more than ever in recent times, Thoro recalled.

  That reflection was cut short as Brielle opened the door to her room and pulled him inside.

  “You need to control your anger,” she said. “Don’t let it control you.”
r />   “I’ve done nothing,” he challenged.

  “You’ve toed the line several times already tonight. Don’t give anyone a reason to come down upon you. In your condition, it probably wouldn’t go well.” She led him to the lone bed in the room and sat him upon it.

  Thoro knew better than to think there was anything romantic about his presence there. Without pause, she looked at his wounded shoulder and tugged a small dagger free from her belt. The brigand wondered if she planned on using it against him for all the trouble he’d caused her since he walked down those secluded steps.

  “I don’t have anything to worry about,” he muttered. “It’s not me endangering the Brotherhood. The real problem is people out there like Jerrod Bodan—the so-called Magician. He would gladly throw the rest of us to the wolves, just to find a small victory in his own life.”

  The cool steel of that blade jabbed into his shoulder, but before he could pull away, Brielle tore it through his shirt. With a better look at the wound, she clicked her tongue. “That’s a lot worse than it looks,” she said. “I’m surprised you’re not foaming at the mouth from pain.”

  “The longer pain lingers, the more used to it you become,” Thoro assured. “It was a long walk back here.”

  “Well, as used to it as you are, you won’t be happy when I’m pouring whisky on it.”

  “That sounds like a fine waste of spirits.”

  “Better than losing your arm,” she challenged.

  “Then let’s get on with it.”

  She rose from beside him and walked over to a curio she kept in the corner of her room. A few ornate bottles were closer to the front, but she reached past them, grabbing an old, weathered container hidden from view in the back.

  “Jerrod will run the Brotherhood into the ground,” Thoro reiterated. “We had everything going our way tonight. The Serpent was in our grasp, and if the people we call brothers had been true to their word, we wouldn’t have had anyone left to challenge us in this city.”