“What has it been? A year? Two?” Seth mused. “We need to catch up.”
“Yes, I—” Percy’s joy simmered into anger. “I haven’t forgiven you, yet.” He jerked his chin up. “Aethra’s right. You owe her an explanation.”
Seth stared at me intently, stepping closer. “Do you understand Serifos’ order of succession?”
“Vaguely.” I watched him warily. “It still functions how it did when they were an independent country, right? If the king’s family falls, the highest-ranking general takes the throne.”
“The king may now be a mere city lord and his general a captain, but the idea remains.” Seth smirked. “You work with the Guild. You know they make great coin entertaining the city lords’ petty grievances. Captain Acrius dealt with them often in his trip to the top. Does his name ring a bell?”
Lord Acrius. . . I searched my memories for the name. Ainwir had been offered a job by someone working for Acrius—a job he’d refused.
Percy interjected. “My father hated him. Called him a corrupt, power hungry blasphemer.”
“Everyone knows the young lord’s heirs died mysteriously,” Seth continued. “But nobody can prove it.”
I glanced away, thinking. The Lord of Serifos had lost both daughters to illness in the past few years. Was Seth implying those had been murders?
“Or better yet,” Seth continued. “Speak to the graves and ask Acrius’ daughter who drowned her when she learned she was pregnant. Nothing makes a noble look worse than bearing a bastard. Least of all those who’re aiming for the throne.”
The Guild made good coin hiding bastards away to spare their noble parents the shame. What kind of man would turn to murder instead?
Swallowing, I met Seth’s eyes. “How are you so sure he was responsible?”
“I have contacts in the Guild. I pay well for my information.” He stared into the night. “They keep records of who hires their services. Nobles and clergy members pay them to commit atrocities, but everyone looks the other way. At best, they languish in a cell until their family pays for their freedom.”
“And you give them the punishment they’re due?”
“Yes.”
Words escaped me. I knew of the Guild’s less savory activities, some I’d been party to, though I’d asked no questions. Ainwir had dealt with them only passingly, advising me not to fall afoul of their political dealings.
Lords did not wish to share, to play second fiddle to another king. But wars won them nothing but death, so they exerted their power in other ways. Underhanded, quiet ways. Better not to make enemies of them, Ainwir had said.
“Satisfied?” Seth asked, returning to his horse.
Percy cleared his throat. “I’ve met some of the men Seth. . . takes care of. You can trust him.”
An elbow to my ribs drew my attention from the mud. Eleos stared intently at the back of Seth’s head. “I was reading him. He’s telling the truth—or, at least, what he believes to be the truth.”
“You said some people think him a hero. He’s a vigilante.” I guessed. “That would have made me feel a little better about this.”
“As I said, I wasn’t sure,” Eleos said.
“Stop loitering,” Seraphim called. “We need to move.”
“One moment,” Seth said, eyes darting around the trees frantically. “He should be here somewhere. I commanded him to stay nearby.”
“Who?” Seraphim asked.
Seth whistled sharply, startling me.
Seraphim glared at him with the ire of a thousand suns. “What are you—” She cut herself off, grabbing her knife and pressing it to her palm as leaves rattled in the distance.
But it was not soldiers who sprinted toward us. An enormous dog raced through the underbrush, a shaggy mess of dirty, matted fur. Seth kneeled, opening his arms for the hound, who dove onto its master with joy.
Percy lit up. “Whisper! Do you remember me, boy?”
Covering Seth’s face with slobber, the hound ran to Percy, eagerly sniffing his hand, tail wagging furiously. Leaning to the side, I studied the creature’s features, trying to determine its breed. Tall.Filthy. Mud covered everything else.
