The Patrician by Joan Kayse Read Free Book Online Page A

without supper.” He released a quiet sigh.
    “Later that night, my mother came to my chamber with a tray of food and assurances that she had no care for jewelry.”
    You are the jewel of my life, little one.
    The voice of his mother, so full of love that Bryna’s eyes pricked with tears.
    The man’s voice was wistful and so full of longing that Bryna felt her heart constrict. The boy who she had walked with moments ago had felt the same sadness. She drew a silent breath, blocked the raw pain pulsating from him. She could not let this unexpected sentimentality distract her. “You have paid your coin, master. What would you ask of me?”
    Her anxiety swelled as did her impatience when he hesitated. Did he still doubt her even after she had spoken of his past?
    “Very well,” he conceded. “I have had a number of robberies with large amounts of merchandise stolen these past months. I would know who is responsible.”
    She closed her eyes for effect. He must think she was reaching for the answers before she recited the instructions.
    “There is a group who seeks wealth without the earning of it through their own labor. Much of your property has been sold already.” She had no idea if this was true, but it was important he think the revelation was forming in her mind.
    Bryna shifted nervously at the hiss of frustration he released. “But the rest, as well as those responsible, still reside in the larger city across from my master’s taverna .”
    “Alexandria?”
    She hoped so. With a nod, she continued, “Tonight you will find them hiding in a large building.” Carefully, she recited the exact directions given her by Coeus and then held her breath when he remained motionless by the door, considering her words. Had her directions seemed too contrived? Too rehearsed?
    The man inclined his head, reached into his purse and tossed a large silver coin in her direction. Bryna caught it against her chest.
    “For you, seer.  A very entertaining story.”
    He still did not believe her? “I tell what I see.” Her chest tightened at the lie.
    “It was a fine performance.”
    Dagda, the man was smug. The shot of anger his dismissive attitude sparked felt good among the roil of anxiety and weariness in her gut. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. If he heard desperation in her voice, he might not follow the instructions and her chance to be rid of this prison would be lost. “Yet you do not believe me, though I have proven skill.”
    He made a tsking sound. “You are a very argumentative slave. A lashing might cure you of your querulous nature.”
Her stomach fluttered with fear. He could do that, complain to Coeus, and demand she be punished. She was a slave and slaves did not challenge their masters. She touched her tender lip. Others would have begged forgiveness for the affront, but even now her pride would not allow her to bend. The best she could do was to lower her head in deference.
    He gave a noncommittal grunt and pulled open the creaking door.
    Darkness engulfed Bryna, smothering her, sucking the breath from her body. Figures flashed by in rapid succession. She was in a dark room filled with sounds of a struggle. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t discern what was happening. A loud curse preceded the sound of shattering pottery then dead silence. She swallowed hard to open her closing throat. The true vision of the man.
    She leaped from her seat and hurried to him, placing a restraining hold on his arm. His flesh was warm, the muscles firm beneath her hand, which sent a different wave of sensations coursing through her. Sensations she had no time or right to consider. That same unsettling familiarity swirled through her.
    “Master, you must be very careful in your pursuit of these thieves. There is great danger involved.” Gods, please do not let Coeus hear.
    The man did not jerk away but turned and stared at her, the sunlight from the open door illuminating his face. For a moment Bryna couldn’t breathe as she