‘Thank you for indulging me, Father.’ I stood up and walked around the table, leaving the uncomfortable metal chair for its next victim. Boyan’s gaze trailed over me as I positioned myself beside him. When I placed my hand on the chair, he tapped it gently with his own.
‘Don’t make me regret it, Daughter,’ he said, his expression hardening, shifting into the ruthless visage we’d all learned to fear.
Then Tymon walked in, and after one look at Boyan’s face, he paused mid-step, uncertainty written all over his features. He glanced at Irsha’s assassins manning the door, and his lips tightened. With a short huff, he strode deeper into the office.
‘So, that’s how it ends. How will I die? Blade from behind or poison from your bitch?’ His words were bold, but if he thought arrogance could mask his fear, he should learn how to act. Sweat beaded on his temple, filling my nostrils with the sharp stench of panic, eyes fixed not on Boyan but on me.
‘Tut, tut, tut…’ He flinched at the sound I made, playing right into my hand. ‘Bitch? There’s been no order to kill you, but calling me names… really? You’re tempting me to go against the Grand Master’s wishes,’ I said, disdain dripping from everyword. ‘Stop sweating and sit down, Tymon. You’re here to answer our questions. My presence will be but a shadow if you answer them truthfully.’
‘You’re threatening me? You wouldn’t dare–’ Tymon started, but Boyan raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.
‘Yes, she would. One word from me, and you’ll be on the floor foaming at the mouth. You’re not my daughter’s favourite person, Tymon. And you disappointed me.’ Boyan’s statement was so matter-of-fact that Tymon sat heavily on the chair, nostrils flaring.
‘Disappointed? I was ripping my veins open to help us survive. You lost control, and I saw what was happening in the South. Fuck, why am I…? If you don’t want to kill me, just tell me what you want.’
‘Two things. Tell me what Jagon’s plans were, and arrange a safe route to Tivalaran.’ I said, and the Master of Mules looked at me sharply.
‘You want to go there now? Why?’ He scoffed, but I didn’t take the bait. ‘Please don’t tell me Jagon’s little apprentice is going against him.’
‘That’s none of your business. Now, stop stalling.’ My calm, emotionless tone brought a sneer to his lips.
In a show of disdain, he looked down, examining his nails. ‘I don’t know Jagon’s plans. Ask him yourself if you can. When you do, tell him how much I appreciate being left to answer for his crimes.’ The anger in his voice rang true, but I knew better than to take his answer at face value.
‘And safe passage?’ I asked, moving from behind Boyan’s chair and rolling my shoulders.
‘I can give you a map, but nowhere’s safe. Not anymore.’ He sprawled on the chair, chin up and cracking his knuckles. ‘The swamp is crawling with starved monsters, and the roads are full of Tivala’s guards, but be my guest and try your luck.’
That complicated my plans, but I wasn’t stupid. Tymon knew routes that guards didn’t dare to patrol. ‘And yet you’ve been in and out undetected. How much did Tivala and his Tangrean masters pay you to work for them? I can beat their offer,’ I asked, testing the waters.
‘Tivala? Jagon hired us to transport the ore. That’s what Mules do; we smuggle, no questions asked.’ Regret flashed in Tymon’s eyes, brief yet visible. It seemed Jagon hadn’t told him what the ore was for. As if confirming my suspicion, the Master of the Mules hammered his fist on the armchair.
‘I wasn’t working with that vicious old bastard, and certainly not for the Hierophant’s men. Fuck, if you know this, you know what Jagon is doing.’ Tymon sounded genuinely surprised by my discovery, and if anything, this gave me a deep sense of satisfaction.
‘Of course I do – much better than you. I understand greed, but how could you be so stupid? Your recklessness could cost us the covenant with Dagome,’ I said, coming closer.
‘You think you know it all, little girl? Have you seen Hierophant’s armada? Have you seen the men, their weapons?’ He was breathing hard, knuckles white from his grasp on the chair.
‘And that gives you the right to betray us?’ I asked quietly, looking him in the eyes. ‘I never thought you a coward.’
‘The Covenant is worthless if there’s no king or kingdom to defend. How long until Tangra rules our shores? The Dark Brotherhood must change for us all to live. You and the other sheep will thank us for ensuring survival,’ he said, rising from the chair as I moved closer. A vicious smirk slipped from my control when Tymon glanced at the door like a trapped animal searching for escape.
‘Change how? Bend our knees and hope? Do you really believe those fanatics will let you live?’ Boyan slammed his hands on the desk. ‘The Empire will wipe us out!’
‘No, they won’t. They need people to do the dirty work while the Hierophant wears his pristine white robes, preaching about the purity of the gods. We would thrive in the shadows, like the old days. All you need to do is kill the bastard who’s sleeping with your daughter.’
My eyebrows rose at the last statement. Was that what Jagon planned, to turn the Brotherhood into Tangra’s assassins?
The fist hammering on the desk snapped my attention back to my father.
‘Leave Roksana out of this! We allied with Reynard, because he was our best choice… he still is.’ Boyan stopped, falling back onto his chair, chest rising and falling in heavy pants. ‘You want to kill women, children, hunt and bleed the mages for those bastards. Not if I’m still breathing.’
The narrowing of Tymon’s eyes was my only warning. He lunged at Boyan, dagger in hand, sensing his chance.
‘Then let me relieve you of your breath, you decrepit old bastard,’ he sneered.
I stepped into his path, launching a needle coated with lethal foxglove. Tymon was faster. His body twisted, and instead of sinking into his neck and stopping his heart, it bounced harmlessly off his leather armour.
I shouted for the guards, but the heavy doors muted my words
