Read Online A Dance of Death by David Dalglish - Free Book Online Page B

here , it said, signed with the name, Watcher .
    “Let there be no doubt,” she said, smearing the rest into a vague circle about the message.
    Haern looked at the two dead men, feeling vague unease. Something about it all wasn’t quite right. He tried to tell himself it was no different than killing Brann Goodfinger, but the argument held little comfort.
    “We’re done for now,” he said, sheathing his sabers. He glanced about, but no guards or drunken workers were near to see what they’d done.
    “We have only begun.”
    “Search if you must. After the trip here, I could use a good night’s rest. We’ve delivered the message you asked. What else could you hope for?”
    Zusa gave him a disappointed look, and he tried not to let it get to him.
    “To deliver it, again and again.”
    Haern thought of killing more, and it put a bad taste in his mouth.
    “This isn’t my city,” he said. “I’ve done enough.”
    He left, and Zusa did not follow. Back at the Keenan mansion, he slipped into his room, stripped off his clothes, and climbed into bed. Several hours later, he heard the door open. Zusa slipped inside. He shifted over, to let her share the bed, but she did not. Without a pillow or blanket she slept upon the floor, still in her wrappings stained with blood.

5

    L ord Ingram Murband listened to the guard’s report with a growing rage.
    “You’re sure it isn’t this Wraith character I’ve been hearing rumors of?” he asked.
    The captain of the guard shook his head.
    “Different weapon used to kill them, plus a different name. Only one person’s lived to see him, but he also listed clothes that don’t match what the mercenaries at Keenan’s mansion saw.”
    Ingram leaned back in his chair. They were in his modest throne room, for unlike most lords, he had no castle. The walls and water of the city were enough to keep him safe. His mansion was an impressive structure, however, with a surrounding wall built of stone imported all the way from Ker. In its center was his throne room, with no other purpose than meetings with various minor lords and commoners pleading for their simple definitions of justice.
    “I won’t put up with this,” he said. “I want it dealt with, and harshly. Whatever the reason he’s here, we need the entire city turned against him before he sways any hearts.”
    “What do you suggest?” asked the captain.
    “Take it out on the prisoners, ten for every one. Make it public. I’ll bear their hatred just fine. Will he?”
    “Very well,” the captain said, bowing low. “Shall I send in the first of your guests?”
    “If you must.”
    As the soldier left, Ingram rubbed his eyes. Things had grown so tiresome of late. First the Wraith was making his life a living torment, and now the mysterious Watcher of Veldaren had to come to his city. As if the elves didn’t give him enough trouble. Thinking of the elves, he wondered when their new ambassador would arrive. He’d been told to expect him today. He’d greatly appreciate restarting their talks.
    The double doors opened, and in walked the two most powerful lords of the Ramere: Yor Warren, tall and thin, his oval face covered with a beard, and the other, Lord Egar Moss, muscular, dark-skinned, with two elegant rapiers hanging from his belt. Both bowed to Ingram, who gestured for them to continue.
    “We’ve come as you’ve requested,” said Yor. “The elves finally gain some sense and accept our proposals?”
    “Not quite,” Ingram said, leaving his throne. The three took a seat at one of the two tables in the room, with servants rapidly appearing to pour them drinks and bring them small meats and breads to eat.
    “Then what are we to do?” asked Egar. His fingers twirled the hilt of a rapier, as if by habit. “Every week I must replace men riddled with arrows, all because they don’t want us to chop down a few trees or set foot in their sacred lands. Sacred. What a joke.”
    “King Edwin refuses to declare