Page 17 of The Warrior Priest
I thanked Minnow and headed to the Cat and Mouse. Nobody paid me any attention as I sat in a corner of the tavern by the fire, hunched over like a lad asleep in the warmth. Through my lashes, I observed the patrons and listened to their conversations. They were all men, and most talked about the arrest of the whores. Some mentioned the governor’s latest efforts to rid the city of thieves, or their concern for the kingdom’s future without an heir, but others were in good spirits thanks to the free-flowing ale.
I was so engrossed in the conversations that I almost missed the figure coming down the stairs. If it hadn’t been for the tavern keeper calling her name I would have missed her altogether. Giselle was dressed like a man beneath a black woolen cloak. With the hood up, her hair and face were obscured. The tavern keeper said he had a message for her then gave her the name of a street. From his accompanying shrug, I suspected he didn’t know what the message meant. If he knew who gave it to him to pass on to her, he didn’t say and she didn’t ask. It was as if she were expecting it.
She left and I followed, keeping my distance. I worried my boots were too loud on the cobblestones. My concern forced me to ease back, but because of that, I almost lost her twice. Each time, I caught up again. It wouldn’t have mattered if I did lose her anyway. She went directly to the address the innkeeper had given her.
She didn’t knock on the door set in the stone wall. Instead, she did a very odd thing. She climbed a tree in the park opposite. Her long, agile limbs easily took her to the upper branches where she could see over the wall. She’d scrambled to the top without hesitation and not a single leaf shook. Impressive.
We were in the better part of Tilting, where the lords kept their city residences. Houses were large, their owners wealthy. I climbed another tree, not quite as quickly as Giselle, but I didn’t have the benefit of her height. I watched her as she watched the house. My tree was smaller so I couldn’t see beyond the wall, but I presumed she was gathering information about the occupants’ movements.
In the distance, the high temple’s bell rang out, then an hour later, it rang again. As dusk began to settle and my legs began to cramp, Giselle finally climbed down. Instead of going to the house, she went around it. Her route was a little more difficult to follow this time, given the fading light, but I managed to keep up. She stopped at the river and pushed a small rowboat out from the bank. We were upstream from the factories and tanneries that used Upway River as a cesspit. Here, the river flowed pristinely past the private gardens of the houses, including the one she’d just been watching.
I slowly cursed as the cloaked figure of Giselle rowed the boat away. Following along the bank on foot wasn’t easy. I had to scale fences and crawl through bushes. I got bitten by insects and my boots became caked in mud. While I came across more than one boat ready to launch, I decided against following Giselle that way. I would be too conspicuous on the river. I’d rather put up with bites and thorns than be exposed.
As I expected, Giselle rowed the boat to the bank at the bottom of the garden belonging to the house she’d been watching. After securing the boat to a tree trunk, she headed through the garden, using tree trunks, shrubs and the occasional statue to keep herself hidden. Dusk had given way to darkness, so she was difficult to spot in her hooded cloak. I was acutely aware that I’d still not seen her face, but also glad that she hadn’t seen mine.
I’d scaled a vine on the wall to reach the balcony outside Rhys’s room many times, yet I was surprised to see Giselle do the same. She pushed the cloak aside with a sweep of her arm, revealing those long slim legs clad in black leather trousers as she confidently found her footing.
I remained where I was. A woman’s voice came from somewhere inside. I strained to hear, but she was simply instructing someone how to set the table for dinner. It wasn’t Giselle’s voice.
Mere moments after she entered via a window, Giselle re-emerged and descended the same way. She moved quickly, racing across the garden, not bothering to use trunks, bushes or statues to hide herself this time. She untied the rowboat and leapt into it. She rowed away, the faster flow downstream taking her well ahead of me. I couldn’t keep up on the bank, and decided to abandon my pursuit.
Instead of going home, I headed to my usual meeting place with Rhys and lit a candle. I placed it on the windowsill. While I waited, I considered what I’d witnessed and what it meant. For one thing, Giselle had certainly returned to Tilting. That wasn’t in doubt. The other thing not in doubt was that she was as good as me, if not better, at getting into and out of places. What was less certain was whether she was a burglar.
By the time Rhys arrived, I’d come to the conclusion that she must be. Her accomplice gave her the address of houses where small yet valuable objects could be stuffed in her pockets for quick removal. Perhaps her accomplice lived in that house and left the window open for Giselle to easily enter.
The question was, did Rhys know?
I was still considering whether I should tell him when he arrived. He blew out a relieved breath when he saw me. “You’re all right.”
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”
He threw his cloak over the back of the armchair. “You gave me your report earlier, so there was no reason for us to meet tonight.”
“I didn’t think I needed a reason. Neither of us do, usually.”
“No. Of course not.”
He picked up the fire poker and used it to move the burning log. His attention seemed caught by the rising sparks before he moved the log back. He returned the poker to the stand then rested a gloved hand on the mantelpiece. His fingers drummed the stone.
I extinguished the candle with my finger and thumb. “Rhys, what’s wrong?”
His shoulders stiffened. “Why do you think something’s wrong?” he asked without turning around.
“I can tell.”
“Your mind can read others as well as remember everything?”
Why was he being so petulant? “I can tell because you can’t be still. You always move when something’s wrong. Nor will you look at me. Is it Giselle?”
He swung around to face me. “Giselle? What…? How do you know about her?”
“The high priest asked me to find out if she was back in Tilting.”
He blinked slowly at me. “The high priest…why?”
“I suppose he’s worried she’ll distract you from your duties as the second-in-command of the order.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t want to talk about Giselle.”
