"It is in my interest that all who know about my involvement survive their involvement. Explaining the options as clearly as possible helps to ensure that, but you are the one who must decide what path you wish to take."
She made a good point. Skharr had made an impression in their first encounter and Tulius did want to avoid any future impressions that might be made.
He ran his fingers lightly over the still-tender bruises on his face. "Mercenaries are not the choice for me. They have honor codes that might prevent them from killing one of their own. A single assassin, I feel, would be the cheaper and more secure route. One who would not choose to engage the barbarian directly. Poison, I think, would be best, although nothing that acts quickly. I want him to suffer a great deal."
"As you wish. I will make the arrangements and you will hear from me when I have a price."
She bowed her head slightly and studied him closely as he focused on his tisane. The rich were all the same—arrogant, entitled shits she needed to live with if she wanted to make a living in Verenvan. That didn't mean that she had to like it.
As she exited the tea house, her gaze shifted to either side to make sure no one was following her.
Very few in the city could track her without her being aware of them, and fewer still could keep up with her once she was on the streets.
The flowing dress was discarded, along with her hood and veil, and she tossed them aside as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself. Beggars and thieves would jump at the chance of the free clothes and successfully hide her tracks.
Her long, rich curls came free as she slipped into a nearby alley and climbed a series of outcroppings that allowed her to reach the top of the building. There, she maintained her balance with each step across the roof with impressive dexterity.
"If I had any investments with Tulius' business, I'd sell them now," she muttered, although she had no one to listen to her except the pigeons that fluttered over the rooftops. "An arrogant prick like that isn't likely to live past the next planting moon."
She stood securely on the edges of the rooftops for a moment before she jumped to the next building, almost as light on her feet as the birds. Still, there was a job to be done and she would ensure that she was paid her percentage for it.
And she would make sure it was one hell of a high percentage.
The Guild Hall was open to visitors from all walks of life, from urchins and thieves to the most elevated in the city. He had even seen the count step into the hall a few times in search of those who would do his will.
Those occurrences were rare, however—rare enough to draw the attention of those who frequented the Hall more often.
The old, bearded man watched as a horse walked through the massive doors. It was white with all the indications of a fine ancestry, mounted by a woman with a similar look about her. Rich red hair flowed over her shoulders, a pleasing contrast to her pale, milky skin, and delicate hands held the reins.
She was followed by a retinue of servants, one of whom guided the beast directly toward him.
Intrigued, he raised his hands from his work and watched as she approached, aware that all the others in the hall were also focused on her progress.
"Guildmaster Pennar?" the servant asked and brought the horse to a halt.
He tugged his beard gently before he folded his massive arms across his chest. "Who wants to know?"
"Are you or not?"
"Fuck off, housemaid."
"Enough!"
The woman's shrill voice carried easily over the din of the hall as she nudged the horse forward until its nose butted the papers on Pennar's desk.
"My name is Lady Tamisen," she continued, her voice now pitched low. "Once you understand why I am here, you will understand why I wish to keep my presence here as discreet as possible."
"You could have done better than to ride in here on a white fucking horse."
"My coming and going anywhere without a retinue would have attracted far more attention, believe me. Now, am I to understand that you are the one to speak to on the matter of arranging a contract?"
Pennar's brows lowered skeptically. "Aye, but too many in the city could do the same."
"Not with the precision I need from you. I wish for work to be passed to a certain barbarian who is a member of the Theros Guild. He is a recent arrival and one who has made a significant impression since he arrived in the city."
Understanding dawned on the man. "You have work for Skharr?"
"Is there another barbarian in the Theros Guild here?"
Her sharp tone wasn't appreciated but he could at least understand it.
He cleared his throat. "No…no, my lady, there is not."
"So it should be little problem for you to find the correct man, then?"
"I still don't know what you want him to do. Many have sought his services and he's not been the easiest to find of late."
She nodded. "You can tell him I wish to hire him for the same price as Lady Svana did."
"Well, I'll have to consult the archives—"
"No," she interrupted firmly. "Listen to my words and repeat them to him exactly. I wish to pay the same price as Lady Svana did."
Pennar nodded, although he shook his head and hoped his expression was more confused than understanding. He recalled how Skharr had described his encounter with the woman and how he had taken enough coin to pay his tribute to the guild and collected his payment through alternate means.
He doubted that the explanation was common knowledge, or that the woman wanted it to be.
"The same price." He nodded again and cleared his throat. "Understood. But I cannot promise that he will accept the work, only to deliver the message."
The lady reached into a purse at her hip and drew two silver coins from it. "I will undertake the final negotiations with him once we meet, but I believe coin is owed for the guild's cut from his work. Two silvers should cover that, and I'll pay more if that is necessary."
"I still cannot promise that he will accept the work."
"The two coins will be paid to him should he agree to see me at my villa—with no expectations. He can choose to not accept the coins, of course, but should that be the case, I assume they will be returned?"
"Do you find yourself short of silver coins, my lady?"
She sneered. "I have made a habit of not spending any I do not need to. Take heed, I will expect those to be returned to me should Skharr not make an appearance at my villa, yes?"
"Of course, Lady Tamisen."
"I appreciate your cooperation, Master Pennar. As well as your willingness to not tell anyone but Skharr about my intentions." She took three more silver coins from her purse and dropped them onto the table along with the original two.
"Of course, my lady."
The woman smiled, cleared her throat, and adjusted her seat on the saddle. The servants immediately took that as her indication that she wished to leave, and the one at the front turned her horse to start toward the massive doors.
One of the other Theros mercenaries approached his desk. Dozens of gazes followed the entourage through the doors.
It was a rare occurrence but none would pretend that it never happened. Lords and ladies needed the help of mercenaries from time to time, and once it was done, they would either find out once the contract was posted or they wouldn't.