“i’m going to get myself killed,” Corson thought. “He probably has a dozen guards in there.” From where she crouched behind a broken-down section of wall, Corson could see a light from one of the windows on the topmost story. The house was supposed to be deserted.
Corson knew she’d guessed right, and she hated herself for it. The last thing she wanted to do was to risk her life looking for Lady Nyctasia, but the Smugglers’ House was the obvious place for Lord Thierran to bring her. It was Edonaris property, and it stood empty on an isolated stretch of cliffs.
She watched as two guards made a leisurely circuit of the house. “This is madness,” she thought. “If I’m caught here that bastard will feed me to the seagulls. And Lady Nyctasia is probably dead already, there’s nothing I can do.
I’d better get away from here while I still can.”
As the two sentries came around the corner into view again, Corson stood. “Ho, you there!” she shouted. “What are you doing here?” She scrambled over the wall and stepped out of the shadows. “I’m caretaker here and you’d best explain your presence before I summon the watch!”
The guards came up to her, swords drawn. “You’ll have to speak with Lord Thierran,” one of them said. “The house was opened at his orders.”
Corson stepped back. “I’ve had no word of this. You’re a couple of thieves and smugglers!” She continued to back away, drawing them further from the house.
“Don’t be a fool. Come back here!”
Corson let him get within arm’s reach, then swiftly brought up her sword. The sentry clutched at his stomach and crumpled to the ground. As the other ran to give the alarm, she bent and pulled the knife from its sheath on her boot, then sent it into the back of the fleeing figure.
Corson dragged the bodies out of sight behind the wall, then dashed for the house. The lighted window seemed to be miles above her, but she found a foothold in the uneven masonry and started to climb, cursing under her breath. She felt sick. She was sure that she would either be discovered, or fall and break her neck.
There were plenty of holds in the stonework, but heights made Corson dizzy, and she felt exposed and vulnerable, an easy target for anyone below. Sweat ran down her back and between her breasts. She knew better than to look down.
“Steifann is right,” she thought with disgust. “Only a halfwit would do this sort of thing. With my looks, I could have been a royal courtesan, I could have had a palace. Silks. Satins. Ropes of pearls.” She continued to climb.
Soon she was near enough to hear shouting from the open window. “I mean to find her, and I’ll have the truth from you-”
Corson had to move up closer before she could hear Nyctasia’s reply. “She acted on my orders, and only I am accountable.”
Corson slowly climbed up alongside the window and edged over to peer around the casement. Lord Thierran stood with his back to her, hiding Nyctasia from view, and there was no one else in sight. Corson smiled and reached for her knife. It would be an easy throw.
“Simm! Danin! Where are you two?” someone shouted. The patrol had not reported on time, and some of the other guards had been sent to find their missing cohorts. “What are you doing out there, screwing in the bushes?”
For a moment, Corson froze. Then, shaking off her panic, she swarmed up the last few feet to the roof and threw herself flat behind a chimney. Soon she heard shouting and confusion, and she knew that the bodies had been discovered. Her one chance had been to get in unobserved, and now a whole company of guards was alerted to her presence.
When the noise had died away, Corson inched forward carefully to look over the edge of the roof. She could see no one in the yard, but they’d soon be searching the grounds for her, and her escape would be cut off completely. If she could reach the ground without being seen, she might be able to save herself, but it was too late to help Lady Nyctasia. By now Lord Thierran must have been warned.
There was no time for duty or pride or sentiment.
But she had barely begun her descent when she heard footsteps approaching from the front of the house. Her last hope of escape was lost, and she felt a chill tingling between her shoulder blades where the arrow would strike.
The window was only a few feet to her left, and in a moment Corson had made up her mind and clambered over the sill. If she was going to die anyway, maybe she could at least kill Lord Thierran first.
But Lady Nyctasia was alone. There was blood on her mouth, and her shirt was torn at the shoulder. She gave no sign of seeing Corson, though her eyes were open and staring.
Corson hurried past her and flattened herself against the wall by the doorway.
Lord Thierran was coming up the corridor, still shouting orders to his retainers. “I want guards at every entrance! Search the stables and the gatehouse!”
He strode across the room to the window and looked out anxiously over the grounds, watching for any movement.
Corson kicked the door shut. At the sound, Lord Thierran wheeled around and stared at her in disbelief. She was coming towards him, smiling, a dagger in her left hand.