A Magic Broken by Vox Day Read Free Book Online Page B

a single dwarf, still less would I employ one here. Do you suppose it might be a simple robbery? There are some gold plates and goblets that I expect would be of interest to a dwarf.”
    Nicolas listened skeptically. Malkan abounded with far more lucrative targets than a brothel, even an exclusive one like this. For gold, a bank. For a whore, a whorehouse. Was it possible that the dwarves were after the same treasure he pursued? That was hard to imagine, but it was just barely conceivable.
    “There is an easy way to find out.” Nicolas drew his sword and beckoned to the four house guards, two of whom had obtained torches. “Go now, my lord. Don’t stop here again until you see me or one of the men on the front steps.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and ran up the blood-stained marble steps toward the darkness lurking behind the open double-doors. He’d never fought a dwarf, but he was supremely confident that they would die as readily as any man, elf, or orc he’d slain.
    Once inside, he was surprised to discover that Aetias, or more likely one of his slaves, had decorated the Golden Rose in much the same manner as his private residence. There were in evidence no red velvet wall-hangings or obscene statuary of the sort so common in such places. The large entry hall looked not unlike the mansion from which he’d so recently come. The wide, carpeted staircase was toward the back of the hall.
    Nicholas took a torch from one of the guards accompanying him and mounted the steps two at a time. He could hear the men behind keeping pace with him. Being guards rather than soldiers, they might not be worth much in a fight, but at least they had courage.
    Upstairs, the whore with the bloody nose had said, and she was on the landing. That meant that the dwarves, assuming they were in fact dwarves, were after something on the floor above that. Or someone.
    Sure enough, as soon as Nicolas reached the first floor, he saw the figure of a man, presumably another guard, lying dead or unconscious on the floor at the far end of the hall. The hall extended in both directions and formed a square around the open space of the stairwell. There were three doors on each side and two on the far end. The guard lay in front of one of them. The other was ajar, and the flickering glow of a candle or hearth fire inside was casting shadows that danced about the walls of the hall.
    “There,” Nicolas whispered. He sent two men around the left of the stairwell, while he and the other two went right. If anyone emerged from the room, they’d find their exit blocked unless they were amenable to a leap over the railing and the resultant plunge.
    As he crept closer to the half-open door, sudden terror flared within him as the darkness triggered a memory of a previous night filled with steel and fire and blood. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, fighting the urge to risk releasing the power held within his sword. Too soon… It was too dangerous.
    With a conscious effort, he conquered his mindless fear with fey humor. How ludicrous it would be for him to perish here and now, in a whorehouse brawl! His poor shade would bid fair to perish itself from sheer mortification.
    Nicolas leaped through the door frame with his teeth bared, holding the torch out before him in his left hand as he kicked the wooden door to the side.
    But no sword rose to meet his entrance, no giant double-bladed axe descended to split him from sternum to crotch. The room was not empty, but there was no danger to be found in it now. Death had already come to this place, and he had come in a merciless form for the distinguished, dark-haired man slumped lifelessly against the blood-spattered wall opposite to the door.
    But Death had not come alone. Someone had brought him here, and unless Nicolas was very much mistaken, that intruder had also taken someone else away. He cursed in helpless anger. One failure was mere chance. Two began to stink of bad fortune.
    “Check