Tower & Knife 03 - The Tower Broken Read Online Free

holding his dagger firmly where it would do the most damage. She stopped breathing.
    ‘She is not my spy,’ said Grada, but nevertheless she stepped away from Jafar. Mesema saw something flash in Grada’s hand just as her foot went out, connecting with Jafar’s stomach. The blade touching Mesema’s skin fell away and she heard a rattle as something hit the wall to her left.
    The moustached guard crumpled behind her. Blood soaked his shirt and her robes.
    Jafar doubled over as if in pain, but really his hand sought the sword he had dropped. Grada stepped on it and brought her knee into his face. Another moment, and she was crouching over him, the Knife against his neck once more. ‘What does he look like?’ she asked.
    ‘Who?’ Jafar was disoriented now, frightened and humiliated.
    Mesema watched, frozen in place.
    ‘The baby you’re hiding.’
    Jafar looked puzzled, and he moved his lips a few times before answering. ‘Some ugly get from the north. Don’t—’ Then he jerked, and gasped.
    Grada’s Knife had pierced his heart, but Mesema had not even seen her move.
    Grada stood, wiping the blood from her twisted blade, and examined the house. ‘They have no windows facing the courtyard – probably to give their women privacy. Good for us.’ Grada sounded distant.
    Mesema had seen much death during the Red Hoof War, even the clouded eyes of her own brother, and yet she could not move. Grada removed her knife-belt and drew off her grey robe, revealing a tunic and leggings beneath. ‘You’re covered in blood. Wash your face and sandals at the pump, then wear this.’ She paused. ‘Your Majesty.’
    Mesema looked around for a water-pump, found it against the house and approached on shaking legs. Numbly she worked the handle and splashed water over her face and feet. ‘You killed them,’ she said, pulling on the grey robe.
    ‘They laid hands upon my empress.’ Grada’s gaze shifted from the house door to the gate as she replaced her belt.
    Mesema frowned. The man who had come outside with Jafar had not touched her, but she decided to say nothing about that.
    ‘Hurry. We’ve taken too long.’ Grada retrieved the dagger she’d thrown at the moustached guard, who was now lying in a corner among some leaves, and walked out through the gate.
    ‘But there’s something here. I saw—’ In the map room she had seen blue in a shaft of sunlight, but perhaps it had been only her ring, caught in a beam from the window – a trick ofthe eye. Not a message from the Hidden God; nothing more than an excuse to leave the palace, to feel important. ‘Daveed is not here.’ She wiped at a tear.
    ‘I was fairly certain he was not.’ Grada walked at a fast clip. ‘News of this will spread quickly among the Mogyrk rebels. A nursemaid comes calling and soon three guards are lying dead. If Daveed was anywhere near—’
    ‘—he won’t be any longer.’ Mesema made fists so tight her fingernails cut into the flesh of her palms.
Stupid, stupid
. And yet for a trick of the eye it had guided her true. Those men
had
been of Mogyrk.
    ‘You should leave such things to me, Your Majesty.’ Grada’s voice betrayed some impatience. A carriage passed them by, one bejewelled hand holding open the curtain, and Mesema pulled her scarf tight. Her wheaten hair could yet betray her to a courtier.
    ‘That house is important.’ It had to be, else those deaths were for nothing.
    ‘I have been watching it for some time. Lord Nessen’s lands are on the northern border, and he has sympathy for the Fryth.’ Grada chose the steep stairs over the gentle road, and Mesema followed in her wake, picking a careful descent, looking in vain for handholds. ‘He’s not in Nooria, but I think he soon will be. They have received several deliveries of food, as if they expect a large company.’
    The sun was beginning to set. How long had she been out in the city? ‘I was going to pretend to be a servant, since you cannot do such a thing,’