The swordsman opened the shutters on the third knock, and Eli wiggled through the bars to land in a heap on Josef’s rug.
“Well,” he said, brushing himself off. “That was exciting. Ready to go?”
Josef sat down on his bed and didn’t answer. Eli stood up, casing the room as he did. It was identical to his own, but Josef had pushed the writing table into the corner and was using the chair to prop up his weaponry with the Heart leaning against the wall. Eli grimaced, glancing from swords to swordsman. Josef bladeless was always a bad sign. Nico was also still conspicuously absent, despite the dozens of shadows available. Very bad indeed. He would have to tread lightly.
He walked over and took a seat on the bed, sinking down beside Josef.
“Listen,” he said. “Remember the plan? We made it. We talked to your mother. She told you what you were going to do, and then you told her what you were going to do. So that’s it. We’re done.”
Josef stared straight ahead and said nothing.
“I’ve been thinking about finding a nice job down south,” Eli continued. “Big money, exotic locals, lots of good fights. If we leave tonight we can probably catch the pirate king’s fleet before he goes back to sea. He’s supposed to employ some of the nastiest swordsmen on the continent. What do you say?”
He turned to Josef with a bright smile, but the swordsman didn’t even look his way, and Eli’s smile fell into a scowl.
“Powers, Josef,” he said, kicking the bed. “Snap out of it. We’re thieves, remember? No one expects anything from us. The queen makes a nice speech, but no country teeters on the presence of one man. You already have a cause, remember? You swore to become the greatest swordsman in the world, the worthy wielder of the Heart of War. That’s a noble goal, and you can’t achieve it here.” He stood up, tugging Josef’s sleeve. “Come on, get your things. I’ll call for Nico and we’ll all get out of here together, tonight, just like we planned.”
He walked to the window and was getting ready to climb out when Josef finally spoke.
“I can’t.”
Eli closed his eyes and cursed silently. When that was done, he turned, keeping his face cheerfully neutral. “Why not?”
Josef made a frustrated sound and ran his scarred hands through his newly trimmed hair. “Do you know why I became a swordsman?”
“Because you’re good at it?” Eli guessed.
“Because it’s the only thing I’m good at,” Josef said. “I was a miserable failure at everything else, being a prince, being a son, being a politician. I hated it, all of it. Swordsmanship was the only thing that made life livable. The only thing I wanted to do.”
He stopped, and Eli shifted awkwardly. This was the most Josef had ever told him about his past, and he wasn’t sure what the swordsman expected him to say. Finally, he settled for putting a comforting hand on Josef’s shoulder. Josef didn’t seem to notice.
“I made my choice when I was fifteen,” he said, his voice low. “In Osera, everything’s about the queen. You live for the queen, fight for the queen, die for the queen. I didn’t want to live for her, didn’t want to live for anyone. I wanted to be a swordsman, to fight for the sake of getting better, not because I was ordered to. So I took my swords and I left. Just walked out. I swore that I would return only when I had become the greatest swordsman in the world.” He clutched his fists together with an intensity that made Eli flinch. “The best,” he said again. “Don’t you see? If I falter, if I take even one step back, then all the problems I caused by leaving—my mother’s suffering, the messed-up succession, Osera’s shame at having a runaway prince—it will be for nothing.”
“Josef,” Eli said. “It’s not—”
“That’s why I never came home before when she tried to make me,” Josef rolled right over him. “But as soon as I saw the poster, I knew this time was different.”
He looked up, and Eli saw with a shock that his eyes were red.
“She’s dying, Eli.” Josef’s voice was so soft Eli could barely make out the words. “My mother is dying. Believe me, I want to dive out that window with you, but I can’t. Not now.” He took a deep breath and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “Her telling me she didn’t want me to be king was the final straw, you know. If she’d been unreasonable and demanded that I give up swordsmanship and take the throne, I could have told her to shove off. But all she wants is an heir, a child of the blood to preserve the family. How can I deny her such a small request?”
Eli didn’t think a child was a small request, but he said nothing. They sat for a long while, letting the silence hang like a dead thing in the air between them. Finally, Eli heaved an enormous sigh.
“Bugger all,” he grumbled, pushing himself off the bed. “You picked a really bad time to have a fit of responsibility. Nico’s back on her game, we finally have the chance to pull some real heists, and you have to get all prodigal son on me, Thereson.”
“Don’t start, Eliton,” Josef snapped. “You must be feeling suicidal, posing as the Rector Spiritualis’s son. What made you think of that?”
“It was the best trick I had,” Eli said, keeping his voice casual. “Queen Theresa’s debt to Banage is well known. The name gave her cause to think twice at the very least, and if I hadn’t given her a compelling reason not to throw me out, you’d be spending tonight with the lovely Adela. Of course,” he said, glaring down at Josef, “if I’d known you were going to get all noble prince on me, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
Josef let the barb roll off with a shrug. “You’re being thicker than usual if you think it isn’t going to come back around,” he said. “This isn’t some idiot guard you’re bluffing. You know the queen is going to check. I’d bet money the Spirit Court is here tomorrow morning, hunting for your hide.”
“Really?” Eli said. “How much money?”
Josef arched an eyebrow. “You have a good reason why they wouldn’t be?”
Eli folded his arms behind his back. “Let me come at this from another angle for you. Anyone who pays attention to bounties knows that Josef Liechten pals around with Eli Monpress, right? So think, what happens when you show up out of nowhere with a handsome young man who looks even a little like the posters? Queen Theresa hasn’t hung onto her throne as long as she has by being an idiot. She’d figure things out real quick. By giving her another trail to sniff, I bought us time to escape. Which, of course, is wasted now.”
Josef rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Still doesn’t explain why you chose Banage. Seems needlessly reckless to me.”
Eli smiled grimly. “I wasn’t lying when I said the Rector Spiritualis was ashamed of his son. Let’s just say that Banage has more on the line than most in making sure that any Eliton appearances stay uninvestigated. Your mother can send messages all she likes, but if we see so much as an apprentice come down to investigate, I’ll eat your sword.”
“Now that I’d pay to see,” Josef said, tugging off his boots. “Get out of here, I’m going to bed. If I have to be home, I’m not doing it on no sleep.”
“Bridegrooms do need their sleep,” Eli said sagely.
The look Josef gave him wiped the smile clear off Eli’s face, and the thief wisely decided it was time to leave his friend alone. He stood up and wiggled out the window as easily as he’d wiggled in. He had time for one last wave before Josef slammed the shutter behind him. Duly rebuked, Eli hung on the stone ledge momentarily, searching the shadows for Nico. He knew she was there. He could almost feel her watching. He called her name softly, but there was no answer, nothing but the wind blowing up the mountain and the sound of the city below.
Feeling defeated and more than a little angry, Eli pulled himself along the ledge and through the bars into his room. He landed on the carpet and picked himself up, snuffing out the lamp with a wave of his hand. He crossed the dark room and collapsed facedown on his bed. He rolled around awhile, wiggling out of his clothes and tossing his wig over the bedpost. Finally undressed, he flopped onto the pile of pillows, turning his head from side to side in a futile attempt to cut off the massive headache he could already feel forming. Fifteen minutes later he was still awake, his head throbbing full force. Eli sighed in a drawn-out curse, grinding the heels of his palms deep into his eye sockets.
It was going to be a long night.
