Cleve let him think he would get his way easily. He took a step back, as if suddenly afraid.
The man in his filthy bearskin laughed. “No more smart words for me, lying scum? Now, I’m coming to you just as you asked me to, and I’m going to make you feel more pain than you imagined a man could feel.”
“Tell me, who sent you?”
“Ah, I’ll tell you that just as your tongue is bulging from your lying mouth.”
“Will you, or are you too stupid to even realize the man’s name?”
The man yelled.
Cleve judged the distance, calmed himself in the very deepest part of himself, the way Merrik, Oleg, and others had taught him to. He raised his hand in a fluttering gesture, then dropped his arm. The movement made the man laugh. He strode toward Cleve, blocking his escape, moving him ever backward, toward the dark fetid alley.
“Are you afraid I’ll still escape you? Who wants me dead? Who paid you to kill me?”
Cleve saw the shadow against the moonlit side of the building.
“Don’t you dare hurt him!”
“Damnation,” Cleve said, recognizing that voice. He called out, “Get out of here, Chessa. Go away.”
“Nay, I’ll take care of this miserable bastard. Coward, leave him alone.”
Cleve sighed, positioned the hidden blade between his fingers and raised his arm. “You want me dead?” he shouted at the man who had half turned at the sound of a female voice.
“Aye, and now,” the man shouted, whirling back toward Cleve again with renewed fury.
Cleve calmly released the knife. It gleamed in the dim light. It embedded itself in the man’s throat, the tip of the knife coming out the back of his dirty neck.
At the very same moment, he heard Chessa call out, “There, you miserable creature, how does that feel? Go away and leave us alone.”
The man stared at Cleve, disbelieving, then he opened his mouth to speak, but only blood gushed out. He fell forward heavily onto his face. It was then that Cleve saw the knife sticking out of the man’s back.
She’d stabbed him. She’d actually stuck a knife in the man’s back.
“Are you all right, Cleve?” She was running to him, her hands out to touch him.
He stopped her in her tracks. “Why in the name of the gods are you here in this dark place?”
“How odd. You sound angry. I saved your life and you’re angry about it. Men—all of you are conceited oafs, none of you is worth a blade of grass.” She bent over and pulled the knife from the man’s shoulder. It was then she saw the point of another knife protruding from his neck. She straightened slowly, eyeing him. “You killed him.”
“Yes, damn you, and I didn’t want to, at least not yet. He hadn’t yet told me who’d hired him to murder me. And you had to come along and play the dragon slayer. Next time, keep to your own affairs.”
“I’m sorry. I just thought I was helping you. I was afraid he would hurt you and I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Why not? I’m only a diplomat who never says anything in a straightforward manner. You loathe who and what I am. The dinner with your father was so strained I’m surprised that anyone ate anything at all. Even the servants felt it, one of them nearly dumping some stewed cabbage on my lap. Then you brought it to a dramatic end. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to speak to you. I saw my stepmother eyeing you like a succulent piece of honeyed almond bread during our dinner, and I knew she’d get you into her bed and so that’s why I said what I did. It wasn’t all that dramatic.”
“You wanted the dinner to be over with quickly so your stepmother wouldn’t seduce me?”
She nodded. “You needn’t act so surprised. I truly didn’t mean to insult you so terribly. It was expedient.”
“You called all diplomats mangy curs whose fleas jumped on all those who came too close. A man could find himself dead for saying such a thing.”
“Actually, I said they were your master’s fleas, and they defiled anyone they touched.”
“Forgive me for not rendering your insult perfectly. Your stepmother had no intention of seducing me. No, she was looking at me for another reason, one that’s right in front of your damned nose. She felt nothing for me save distaste. By all the gods, you’re blind.”
