Prince Thief by David Tallerman Read Free Book Online

in his highness’s chambers, sir.”
    Seeing me, Alvantes’s eyes widened. “Damasco!”
    Ludovoco glanced at him with disdain. “You seem surprised. Are we to believe this wasn’t part of your plan?”
    “If it was, I’d hardly have meant to get caught,” I pointed out.
    Ludovoco ignored me. “Is that his?” he asked, nodding towards something behind me.
    “His pack, sir,” explained my guard. “I think he was taking something out of it, maybe.”
    I hadn’t even considered what had become of my bag. Evidently the guard had been attentive enough to bring it with him.
    “Check it,” Ludovoco told him.
    I heard a dull clink as my guard flung the pack upon a low table beside the door, a scuffing as he drew open the cover. I still couldn’t see his face, but a little of his stoic professionalism had slipped as he said, “A rope, Commander, and... er... bottles, mostly. Lots of little bottles.” He obviously hadn’t taken any time to wonder what I’d been doing in the Prince’s bath chamber.
    “A saboteur, is it? Or an assassin?” Ludovoco contemplated me, as if I were a slug crawling across his dinner plate. “Are they poisons? Some incendiary, perhaps?”
    Perhaps my guard was ignorant of royal bathing practices, but I doubted very much that Ludovoco couldn’t recognise bath oils when he saw them. Likewise, he had no reason to be quite this suspicious of Alvantes’s motives. In any case, we were on Ondeges’s turf, not his; what was Ludovoco doing, coming here and pulling rank like this?
    Alvantes scowled. “I assure you,” he said, “I knew nothing about this. I came here in good faith, to try and...”
    “Spare me,” said Ludovoco. “Please. I’m a busy man. In fact, to move matters to a swift conclusion, I’ll propose a deal. Tell me, without prevarication, what your scheme here was and I’ll let your men go.”
    “I’ve told you,” said Alvantes with dignity, “I knew nothing of this degenerate’s actions. Moreover, I won’t bargain with the fates of my men, who are servants of the crown every bit as much as...”
    Ludovoco cut him off with an upraised hand. It said a lot about the man that he could silence Alvantes so easily. With the same hand, he picked out one of Alvantes’s entourage, a man I knew vaguely as Godares. To the palace guard beside him, Ludovoco said, “Kill that one.”
    The crossbowman hesitated – but only for an instant. In one economic motion, he lodged the bow against his shoulder and pulled the trigger.
    Godares’s mouth was just opening, perhaps to protest. It formed into a perfect “O” as the bolt struck. At such close range, the impact lifted him from his feet and carried him with it. By the time his body finally struck the ground, it was brokenly splayed, with his own blood already pooling beneath him.
    Alvantes had made three swift steps towards Ludovoco before the other crossbowmen realised what was happening. Once they did, however, they were quick enough to aim their weapons at him. Alvantes’s weathered face seemed black with rage. My mind threw up an image, so clear that I could barely doubt its reality, of him pressing on, his body tattered with bolts, to crush Ludovoco’s throat with his one good hand.
    If Ludovoco was pondering a similar scene, he hid his unease perfectly. He didn’t so much as consider Godares’s corpse; his eyes held Alvantes pinned. “So you see,” he said, “I don’t make threats, idle or otherwise. You’ll tell me what I want to know.”
    “You’ll pay for that.” Alvantes’s voice was a growl, the words almost lost in the depths of his hate.
    “Unlikely,” said Ludovoco. “And again, you’re wasting time.” He raised a hand once more. His eyes strayed idly over Alvantes’s surviving men.
    “Wait!” Alvantes cried.
    Ludovoco didn’t lower the hand. “You have something to tell me? You didn’t come here to make peace. So what was it? Quick now.”
    “I know your type,” said Alvantes. His