“This involves both of us.”
Tillmar dropped down on one knee, his blade upright, resting with its point on the floor.
I shut up.
The Magnars stood like sentinels, solemn and silent, their faces grave. The way they held themselves transformed the room into a sacred place, as if the walls of our basement had melted away and we stood in the center of the Red Basilica.
Tillmar bowed his head.
“I swear upon my life and the lives of all I hold dear to pledge my blade, body, and soul to the Lord of Selva. His word is my law, his cause is my cause, and there are none above him. So shall it be until the end of my days.”
A formal oath. Oh wow.
Dark smoke boiled out of Everard. His eyes turned a piercing, scalding green. He spoke as if etching each word into stone.
“I, Lord of Selva, accept you into my service. From this moment on, you are my sword, and I am your shield. Should you be wronged, I will give you justice. Should you fall in my service, your loved ones will not know hunger. Rise, Tillmar of Selva, and sheathe your blade until I have a need of it.”
Tillmar rose and put away his sword.
“In three months, after the Redeemers are satisfied, I will move your family north,” Everard said. “They will be protected and well taken care of.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
The smoke melted into nothing, and Everard’s eyes went back to their normal light green. Hreban and Everard. One had tried to buy a man, the other changed the course of Tillmar’s life with five sentences. That much power concentrated in the hands of one person. It was at once awe-inspiring and terrifying. There was a reason our society had moved away from that. Mostly.
Everard turned to me. “Are you ready to go, my lady?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Everard offered me his arm. I rested my hand on it.
Behind us Gort muttered, “You are one lucky sonovabitch, Tillmar. Let’s get you some ink and paper.”
The Shears agent was waiting for us in the hallway. She was lean, with dark hair, sandy skin, and narrow dark eyes. Her features were pleasant and ordinary, and nothing about her drew the eye at first glance. I’d met literally a dozen women just like her at the Dog Market. And then you looked into her eyes and realized she could kill you three times before you hit the ground.
Avaria, Solentine’s second-in-command. He wasn’t joking around.
“It is done, my lord,” she said.
I could see the courtyard through the window, lit with lanterns. A whole team of people in black and gray swarmed over the bodies. She must’ve called in reinforcements from the Shears.
“You have all of the measurements?” Everard asked.
“Yes.”
“You noted the blood spatter?”
“Yes.”
“Take the first five bodies and Velpor’s corpse to the edge of Hreban’s territory and re-create the scene of their death. Place Velpor’s body in the spot I told you to mark. Have someone of the same height drop the sword next to his body. Make sure that the five bodies are deposited first, then Velpor. Arrange the bodies exactly as they fell, complete with blood and their weapons. Wynand Bors isn’t wise but he’s skilled and his mind is sharp. Do not make a careless mistake like placing a weapon too far out of reach.”
She nodded. “Yes, my lord.”
This explained so much. In the morning, the Conquerors would find Velpor with five corpses. They would conclude that he was jumped and murdered.
The Order of Conquerors ran on loyalty. When one of their own was injured, they pursued the offender to the end, and they were relentless. Instead of turning the city upside down looking for the Sleepless Duke, they would turn the city upside down trying to shake out the owner of the hit squad.
Everard had thought of all of that before he ever walked out of the house. He fought those five intruders with Velpor’s sword in Velpor’s two-handed style. In a single move, he had shifted the Conquerors’ focus off himself and onto Hreban.
