The Iron Ring Read Online Free PDF Page B

get him to go to the cargo car under the assumption that he was still dealing with the Marquis Rameaux, and not whoever his true self happened to be. Unfortunately, because of Tyvian’s (pretended) outrage, the only way for that to happen was for Rameaux to engage in swordplay with a man who, he was clearly aware, was one of the finest swordsmen in the West.
    The end result was a lot of angry staring.
    Rameaux heaved a sigh for the twentieth time. “Really, cousin, you are being ridiculous.”
    Tyvian raised his eyebrows. “I? Surely not—­it is you who are being ridiculous. You are a coward and a braggart, and I demand—­”
    Artus entered the car, and Tyvian broke off mid-­rant. The boy’s face was flushed—­Tyvian guessed it was nerves—­but, to his credit, Artus did his best to assume the proper posture before bowing to the men in the room. He failed utterly, but that was beside the point.
    â€œWell?” Tyvian asked, and when Artus hesitated, he nodded. “You may speak, but use Trade. Akrallian is too delicate a tongue for these brigands.”
    â€œZaz . . . Master Hendrieux says all is ready, sir . . . m’lord.”
    â€œTell him I am quite occupied. He will wait.”
    Artus’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “I told him about the gentlemen, and he said he could . . . uhhh . . .”
    Surprisingly, it was Rameaux who finished the boy’s sentence. “ . . . resolve this issue of honor, I’m sure. What say you, cousin? May we forestall our duel another hour? Surely that is customary.”
    Tyvian grunted. What was Hendrieux planning? Probably something like “stab them in the back when they came through the door.” Not the most elegant solution, but Tyvian had to admire its simplicity. He still had the deathcaster in his pocket, which would easily account for one of them, probably two. Between that and Hendrieux’s knife . . . Tyvian liked the odds. He nodded his assent. “Very well, though it pains me to do so, I will lead you to the objects, as agreed. Follow me.”
    As they made their way through the corridors of the spirit engine, Tyvian went over escape plans. Murdering the three men behind him, though regrettable, would be simple enough, but he couldn’t guarantee their bodies would go undiscovered. He supposed he could always toss them out the door when they went over a bridge. Zazlar could assist him with the big ones, and there were plenty of tributaries to the Trell running through this countryside. After that, return to his cabin, act like nothing happened, and get Carlo in Freegate to store the goods for them when they got into the berth. A bloody plan with plenty that could go wrong, but a workable one nevertheless.
    Then there was the boy. It was a pity, really. Had this all gone smoothly, he would have paid the brat to keep his mouth shut and that would probably be an end to it. Certainly the boy would have told somebody, but not immediately—­not until the money he gave Artus ran out. Having him as witness to a triple murder, though, and with no money to buy him off with, was a different matter. The boy couldn’t be permitted to talk; Zazlar would insist on killing him. Tyvian would try to talk him out of it, but he doubted Zaz would be reasonable. Zaz had poor nerves when things went wrong, and the only way he knew how to react was with brutality.
    The additional trouble was that they couldn’t kill the boy while still aboard the spirit engine—­the conductor would likely remember him arriving with a companion and leaving alone, and when the other three didn’t get off either, it would be an investigation that pointed directly at him. No, better to let Zazlar stick a dagger in the boy’s ribs when they got off at Freegate. Tyvian would offer the boy a hot meal and a drink or something and they’d lead him out of sight.