Rise of Empire (The Riyria Revelations #3-4)

“It’s easier for me to do business if I’m not seen here too frequently. And now, if you’ll forgive me, I must—”

“You aren’t leaving?” Ethelred asked, disappointed. “You just got here. With news like this, we have to celebrate. Don’t doom me to merrymaking with the likes of an old cleric and a melancholy earl. I’ll call for wines and beef. We’ll get some entertainment, music, dancers, and women if you’d like. How do you like your women, Marius? Thin or plump, light or dark, saucy or docile? I assure you, the lord chamberlain can fill any order.”

“Alas, my lord, I have some remaining business to which I must attend.”

Ethelred frowned. “Very well, but you must show up for Wintertide. I insist.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Merrick left while the imperial rulers exchanged congratulatory accolades. Outside, a new carriage waited, complete with four white horses and a uniformed driver. On the seat rested the package from the city constable. Merrick had offered brandy in trade and the man had leapt at the opportunity. A bottle of fine liquor in return for the worthless remnants of the defunct witch hunt was the sort of good fortune that the sheriff was unaccustomed to receiving. Unwrapping the package, Merrick ran his fingers over the shimmering material of the robe.

The carriage traveled up The Hill and turned on Heath Street, one of the more affluent neighborhoods in the city. The homes, though not terribly large, were tasteful and elegant. A servant waited dutifully to remove his cloak and boots while another stood by with a warm cup of cider. Merrick no longer drank wine, ale, or spirits, and was amused to see this accommodation taken into account. He sat in the drawing room, surrounded by burgundy furnishings and dark wood paneling, sipping his drink and listening to the pop of the fireplace.

A knock sounded at the door. He nearly rose to answer when he spotted one of his new servants trotting to the foyer.

“Where is she, Merrick?” he heard an angry voice shout.

A moment later the valet led two men into the drawing room.

“Please have a seat, both of you.” Merrick reclined in his soft chair, warming his hands with his cup. “Would either of you care for a drink before we conduct business? My servants can bring you whatever you like, but I must say the cider is especially good.”

“I said, where is she?”

“Relax, Mr. Deminthal, your daughter is fine and I’ll bring her down shortly. You fulfilled your end of the bargain brilliantly, and I always honor my commitments. I merely wish to go over a few details. Only a formality, I assure you. First, let me congratulate you, Wyatt. May I call you Wyatt? You’ve done an excellent job. Poe’s report gave you extremely high marks.

“He tells me you were instrumental in getting Royce and Hadrian on board, and even after the unexpected sinking of the Emerald Storm, your quick thinking saved the ship’s orders and the mission. I’m especially impressed by how you won over Royce’s trust—no small feat, I might add. You must be a very convincing fellow, as demonstrated by how you persuaded the Port Authority that Royce and Hadrian were in Tur Del Fur to destroy Drumindor. I’m convinced it’s only by your skill and intelligence that the operation was such a wonderful success.”

Merrick took a sip from his cider and sat back with a grin. “I have just one question. Do you know where Royce and Hadrian are now?”

“Dead. By the Ghazel or the Tur Del Fur officials, whoever got them first.”

“Hmm, I doubt that. Royce is not easy to kill. He has gotten out of much more difficult situations before. I would say he leads a charmed life, but I know all too well what kind of life he’s lived. Still, I wouldn’t even trust Death to bind him long.”

“I want my daughter—now,” Wyatt said quietly through clenched teeth.

“Of course, of course. Mr. Poe, would you be so kind as to run up and bring her down? Third door on the left.” Merrick handed him a key. “Seriously, Wyatt, you’re a very capable man. I could use you.”

“Do you think I liked doing this? How many hundreds of people are dead because of me?”

“Don’t think of it that way. Think of it as a job, an assignment, which you performed with panache. I don’t see talent such as yours often, and I could find other uses of your skills. Join with me and you’ll be well compensated. I’m working on another project now, for an even more lucrative employer, and I’m in a position to make a great many good things happen for you. You and your daughter can live like landed gentry. How would you like your own estate?”

“You kidnapped my daughter. The only business I’m interested in doing with you is arranging your death.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Ah, see? Here she is now. Safe and sound.”

Poe escorted a little girl down the steps. She was around ten years old, her light-brown hair was tied in a bow, and she wore an elegantly tailored blue dress with fine leather shoes.

“Daddy!” she shouted.

Wyatt rushed over, throwing his arms around her. “Did they hurt you, honey?”

“No, I’m okay. They bought me this pretty dress and got me these shoes! And we played games.”

“That’s good, honey.” Turning to Merrick, Wyatt asked, “What about Elden?”

“He’s fine, still in Colnora. Waiting for you, I presume. Wyatt, you really need to consider my offer, if for no other reason than your own safety.”

Wyatt spun on him. “I did your job! You sat there and told me I did it brilliantly! Why are you still threatening us?”

Merrick looked at the girl. “Poe, take Allie in the kitchen. I think there are some cookies she might like.”

Wyatt held her to him.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be right back.”

“Do you like cookies?” Poe asked her. The little girl grinned, bobbing her head. She looked up at her father.

Wyatt nodded. “It’s okay, go ahead. Hurry back, honey.”

Poe and Allie left the room hand in hand.

“I’m not threatening you. As I already said, I’m very pleased with your skills. I’m merely trying to protect you. Consider for a moment, what if Royce is not dead? He’ll put two and two together, if he hasn’t already. You should be afraid of what he’ll do to you—and your daughter. Royce will probably kill Allie first and make you watch.”

“He’s not like that.”

Merrick released a small chuckle. “Oh, sir, you have no idea what Royce is like. I’ll grant you that his association with Hadrian Blackwater has tempered him greatly. Twelve years with that idealistic dreamer have made him practically human, but I know him. I know what lurks beneath. I’ve seen things that make even my hardened heart shudder. Get his anger up, and you’ll unleash a demon that no one can control. Believe me, he’s like that and so much more. Nothing is beyond him.”