Nyctasia was satisfied with her arrangements. She’d provided for those of her servants whom she trusted, and the rest believed that she’d long since fled the city. That night she and Corson would slip out of Rhostshyl by a postern gate in the city walls. The sentry had been well paid to let them pass unchallenged. If it were another rainy, moonless night, all might yet be well.
She appeared confident and self-possessed, but inwardly Nyctasia was torn by warring passions. That she, an Edonaris, should be forced to slink through her own city like a common criminal, sneak out a back gate like a fugitive-! Though she opposed her family’s pretensions to sole rule of Rhostshyl, yet strong ties of duty and heritage bound her to the ancestral home of the Edonaris. The city-state of Rhostshyl was governed by those members of the ruling families of the rank of Rhaicime, and Nyctasia should have been a strong voice on that council. Instead, she was an outcast, hunted from her home.
Though it was not by her own choice that she went into exile, she doubted the honesty of her own decision at times. Other duties claimed her-other desires drew her. She had long ago promised that someday she would join her lover, Erystalben ar’n Shiastred, in far-off Hlasven and there was no longer anything to be gained by waiting.
It was on her account he’d been driven from the city. Her family had been furious when she’d taken a lover from among the minor nobility and refused the husband chosen for her.
At first they had all but encouraged the connection, hoping that the Shiastred family would therefore take their part against the Teiryns, for Erystalben would one day be head of the House of Shiastred. Nyctasia’s rebelliousness had not posed a serious threat until the unlooked-for death of her mother raised her suddenly to the rank of Rhaicime. It was then that the Edonaris became more insistent that she honor the marriage agreement that promised her to her cousin Thierran. They blamed Erystalben for her continued refusal, and he at last fled Rhostshyl rather than see his people incur the enmity of the most powerful family in the city. He had wanted Nyctasia to come with him, but while she had yet hoped to effect a conciliation between the rival families, she felt duty-bound to remain. Those hopes were shattered now and she would deny herself no longer.
Her reverie was broken by the shrill cry of a young beggar-child at her elbow, urging, “Alms, kind lady!”
She dropped a few coppers into his waiting hand, and looked him straight in the face. Accustomed to indifference even from charitable folk, the child was put on his guard at once.
“Who’s following me?” Nyctasia asked.
Without seeming to look, the child gave a creditable description of Sandor.
“Is there no other behind him?”
“Oh, a younger one, lady? He’s just come round the corner.”
“Good. Now be off with you.” Surprising the urchin with another coin worth more than the rest, she slipped into a narrow alleyway and let herself in to a dilapidated row-house. Nyctasia had rented houses in every quarter of the city, though she took care that the owners did not learn who their tenant was.
Sandor waited near the mouth of the alley. Before long, the other man passed by and hesitated, glancing down the passageway before he moved on.
“You won’t find her that way, friend.”
The stranger whirled round to face Sandor, who grinned knowingly and beckoned to him. “You’re following the Lady Nyctasia,” said Sandor. “Don’t trouble to deny it. I’ve been after her all day myself, haven’t you noticed? She came down this way and I know where she is now. I think we can be of help to each other, don’t you?”
“What do you want of me?”
“Nothing more than you’ve been hired to do. It’s two against one this way, easier for both of us. Once she’s dead who’s to say which of us did the deed?
We’ll both collect our pay.”
“That’s a bargain. Where is she?”
Sandor led him down the alley past the building Nyctasia had entered and stopped before an old, boarded-up house. “We’ve only to wait. There’s no other way out.”
They hid in a doorway across from the house. When Nyctasia did not appear, the youth grew more and more uneasy. “Where is she? What does she want in there? Are you sure-”
“Patience, my friend.” Sandor took out a flask and tilted it to his lips. “Still green at this, eh?”
His companion flushed. “Give me some of that!”
Sandor laughed and passed the flask to him. “No need for haste, she’s bound to come out soon. If you mean to live long at this trade you’d best learn to bide your time. Here, you’ve had enough of that-it’s no drink for babes.” He took back the flask and corked it, then caught the young man as he folded and fell.