Read Online All The King's-Men (The Yellow Hoods, #3) by Adam Dreece - Free Book Online

said Marcus, leaning in. “I’d guess they would have had to produce a lot to not notice.
    “That all said,” Marcus rolled his shoulders back, straightening himself up, “I heard that they are marching out in the morning. We’re safe regardless.”
    Nikolas turned back to Marcus, wondering. His old friend sounded certain about that last part, as if he knew that even if all of the soldiers in the inn turned on them at once, he would win.
    Leaning forward, bowing his head a bit and putting his hands between his knees, Nikolas yawned and then looked up. “I know you are not wanting to discuss business any more, but—”
    Marcus could see what was on Nikolas’ mind. “You’re worried about your granddaughter.”
    Nikolas nodded.
    Marcus took out a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his black vest. “Here, this was with Richelle’s letter, which I received from the man at the cart.”
    Nikolas tried to act surprised.
    “Don’t do that,” said Marcus, waving off Nikolas’ feigned expression, offended. “I know you too well, even when I’m exhausted and we haven’t seen each other in years. I know that you noticed him. You noticed the pistols, and just so you know, I haven’t stopped thinking about that either.” He removed his monocle and rubbed both eyes. “There are a lot of things to keep in mind when you’re playing a hundred games of chess at the same time.”
    “Such as giving me the piece of paper from Richelle?” asked Nikolas, pointing to the paper still in Marcus’ possession.
    Marcus laughed and handed it over.
    Nikolas was surprised to find the letter was addressed to him directly. Richelle wrote about how she’d tried to reason with Tee, but Tee’d been too upset to listen. Ultimately, she hadn’t captured Tee and could confirm that she’d left the battlefield with only minor bruises. 
    Closing his eyes, Nikolas smiled. He imagined Tee in the trap that he’d been too trusting to help her avoid, a fireball against the impending darkness. She’d grown up so much in the past several months. The LeLoup incident had changed her, but the core of who she was had made it through unharmed. He felt a mix of guilt and pride in having seeded her upbringing with the tools she’d recently needed. A thought then occurred to him.
    Nikolas sat back and stared at Marcus curiously.
    Marcus lowered the letter he was reading. “Now that look, Nikolas, I don’t recognize.”
    “The Tub’s rule about not passing knowledge or training on to successive generations,” said Nikolas, pausing.
    “Yes?” asked Marcus, putting the letter away. He slipped the strap of his geared monocle back on and fit it into place.
    Nikolas’ eyes danced around the room as several things that had bothered him for years finally fell into place. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
    Marcus tried to hide his smile. He leaned back and folded his arms, his eyebrows going up. “What would make you think that?”
    Nikolas’ eyes narrowed. “It bothered me when I first heard of this rule. It is one thing not to share your prejudices and misshapen beliefs with another generation, but to pass nothing on? To believe that the victory over the Fare was permanent? I always found the reasons given to be excuses, but every question I asked led in a circle, and in the end, the Tub wasn’t mine to fix. It is clear now.”
    “That I had already started dismantling the Tub before we met? Yes,” replied Marcus, a bit uncomfortable. “As I’ve mentioned before, it didn’t bother me that you were still peripherally involved with the Tub after you left. You had to be, given your son-in-law. You did as you promised: you didn’t tip the balance, not that they would have allowed you to…”
    There was much about his ambitions and strategies that Marcus had never spoken to Nikolas about. Nikolas had always been caught in a moral conundrum when it came to him and his plans, as he could see both sides of the equation. Ultimately, it