In hindsight, it was a good thing Tristam had quick reflexes, because things didn’t end well for prisoners who hit their captors. As it was, he caught Kyra’s wrist just before her palm struck his face. For a moment, they were frozen there, Kyra shaking with fury, Tristam focused and unyielding.

“I may not be one of your noble-born ladies,” said Kyra, voice trembling with anger, “but I in’t an alehouse whore.” She pulled against Tristam’s grip, but he held firm. “Nothing happened between me and James.”

He didn’t let her go, though his gaze softened in a way that bruised her pride. “You’re a puzzle, Kyra.”

Kyra gathered her strength and twisted her arm out of his grip. “What you think matters nothing to me,” she lied. “There’s no more to say on this matter.”

Twenty-four

T W E N T Y - F O U R

Tristam shuffled through his stack of records, trying his best not to hunch his shoulders protectively over them. Though he had permission to view these documents, there was still a clandestine flavor to his questions today.

He looked over at Martin. “Any luck?” The two of them had taken over the records room, and piles of parchments were stacked all along the table between them.

Martin chewed on his cheek as he sorted through his own pile. “Looks like Kyra’s right. The goods taken by the Assassins Guild belonged to Lord Edwin of Perkins. The Palace confiscated the wares from one of his renters on his behalf. The man was late to pay his rent because the trade caravans were attacked. He ran an herbal shop in the northwest quadrant, and a group of soldiers were sent a few weeks…” He trailed off.

“Yes, that was us,” said Tristam. So Kyra had been telling the truth. The Guild hadn’t been raiding for simple gain. They’d had a very specific goal. “Do the records say anything else?”

Martin’s lips moved silently as he read the rest of the report. He wasn’t a fast reader, though he was getting better with practice. “There’s a note here says the storekeeper appealed to the magistrate for extra time, but he lost his case.”

“It does seem hard to turn a profit if you have nothing to sell. Lord Edwin’s never struck me as a pleasant man,” said Tristam. “I wonder why the magistrate ruled in his favor.”

“They didn’t tell you when they sent us?” asked Martin. “They keep us Red Shields in the dark, but I thought you’d know the whole story.”

Tristam shook his head. “I only knew that he hadn’t paid his rent. None of the rest. It’s not a soldier’s place to question the Council’s decisions.” That was what his commanders would have said to him, though repeating their words didn’t make him feel any less uneasy.