Page 71 of The Warrior Priest
She laughed softly and set the book down on the stone she’d been sitting on. “Unlike your uncle, I’ve read all the books I own.” She tapped the cover. “This one stated the sorcerer gave a talisman inhuman formthe power of superior senses plus a memory that forgot nothing. One human per generation—always a woman from the same family. When I first read it, I assumed it was just a story and thought nothing of it. Then I met you. I soon realized you fit the description.Youwere the talisman. I also realized that no one else knew, not even you. You’re right in that I thought you’d make an excellent assassin, Jac. Unfortunately you showed no aptitude for the most important part. The killing itself.”
“We can’t all be as coldhearted as you.”
“So I’ve learned over the years,” she said, with a wry twist of her lips.
“What happens now?” I asked. “Shall we fight? Do we see if my superior senses can win over your experience?”
She glanced along the track again. “We wait.”
“I told you, Rhys isn’t coming. I haven’t sent for him.”
“But I have.”
It was my turn to glance along the track, but there was no one there. “What do you mean?”
“I sent him a message telling him if he wanted to see you alive, he should come.”
“Alive?” I shook my head. She wasn’t making any sense. “Why do you want Rhys here at all? You might be able to defeat me, but you certainly can’t beat him.”
Giselle removed a knife from the sheath strapped to her belt. “Because of your brilliant memory, you think you’re cleverer than everyone else, but you have it quite wrong. I don’t want to capture you and deliver you to the governor alive. I want to kill you and blame your death on Rhys.”
The breath left my body in a rush, as if she’d punched me, winding me. I didn’t understand. When had she wanted me dead? Not in the beginning, I was sure of it. But some time before coming back to Tilting, she’d changed her mind and decided to abandon the scheme of training me as her apprentice and kill me instead. I stared at her, trying to catch my breath and reconcile the two versions of her. But I could not. The woman who’d been my friend and mentor now looked at me as if I’d meant nothing to her at all.
“You made up the dying friend to bring us both back here,” I murmured.
“I didn’t make up the dying friend, Jac.Youare she.”
I recalled her words in Upway, that she needed to ‘be there for her in the end.’ She was talking about me. She’d been saddened at the thought of my death. I didn’t think that part was a lie. Apparently I did mean something to her, after all, just not enough to reject the fee and let me live.
“Why is it important I die here?”
“My client is in Tilting and I need to prove you’re dead by producing a body. Also, Rhys is here and I want him to take the blame. Not that my client knows that part, but I’ll be fulfilling his agreement so he’ll have to pay me.”
“No one will believe Rhys killed me.”
“They will when they find the evidence I’ve planted. You see, he’s going to kill you because he can’t have you and doesn’t want anyone else to, either. Men,” she bit off. “Some are such passionate lovers, but when their love turns sour, that passion turns into violence.”
I barked a hollow laugh. “That’s a stupid motive. No one will believe it of Rhys.”
“I think they will. Celibacy can drive a man mad.” She tapped her temple. “Denying a man this basic need makes him act out of character, particularly when he thinks he’s in love.”
I removed the knife from the sheath at my belt, and moved into a better fighting position, with open space at my back so as not to be trapped against a ruined wall of the fort.
Giselle circled, too. “You’re right about one thing, Jac. I can beatyouin a fight, but not Rhys. I’ll kill you a few moments before he gets here, then I’ll leave before his arrival. There are some constables stationed not far from here who’ll get a visit from a concerned elderly citizen with Dreen features who witnessed a horrific murder at the fort ruins. They’ll find Rhys with your body. He’ll deny killing you, of course, but once the constables conduct a search of the vicinity, they will find the murder weapon.” She opened her palm to reveal the bone handle of the knife etched with the sun and dagger symbol of Merdu’s Guards. “The warrior priests all carry one of these.”
She lunged toward me, but I was ready for her and danced out of the way, kicking her in the hip as she passed me. She stumbled but didn’t fall. Instead of immediately coming for me again, she settled her feet apart. It was then that I realized I no longer had the open space at my back. The fort was behind me. Her tactic had been to gain the more advantageous position and I’d fallen for it.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “If my uncle isn’t your client, who is?”
“Ah. This is the brilliant part. I kill two birds with one stone, if you’ll pardon the pun. You see, your uncledoeswant you dead after I told him this morning thatyoupossess the sorcerer’s magic, not the pendant. When he realized he couldn’t control you and use the power for himself, he gave up altogether on the idea of capturing you. You should have seen him. It quite broke him to learn that he’d been carrying nothing more than a pretty rock in his pocket. I offered to kill you, and he agreed, although he didn’t know I was already going to kill you, on the instruction of my other client. As I was talking to the governor, I realized I could give him Rhys’s head on a platter, too, by blaming him for your murder. So he’s paying me twice, once for your death, and the second time for planting evidence that points to Rhys being your killer. He detests Rhys and the notion appealed to him. My first client won’t like that Rhys is blamed, but that’s too bad. By the time he realizes, I’ll have collected my fee from him for killing you and will have left Tilting. It’s rather a large sum, by the way. You should be pleased.”
“Who is it? Who’s your first client?”
“The man I stole this knife from. The high priest.”
I gasped.
“Shocking isn’t it. Imagine a man dedicated to a religion that preaches kindness stooping to murder. Well, murder by proxy.” She whipped out a letter from her pocket. “He wrote to me in Upway.” She tucked the letter away again and patted the pocket. “Insurance.”
