Chapters (30)
- Praise
- Also by Kate Quinn
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Dedication
- Part One
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Part Two
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Epilogue
- Historical Note
- Characters List
- Readers Guide
- Special Excerpt from THE LION AND THE ROSE
“Why?” the young Bishop asked again.
“Because she mattered,” I said. “Tell me, what has happened to the guardsman? Niccolo.”
“The wound in his hip was very deep. It suppurated, despite the surgeon’s best efforts. He is raving now, and sinking fast. Did you poison the blade?”
“No.” Sometimes even a dwarf could simply come up lucky. I smiled.
“So, you bagged two of three killers.” The Bishop noted my smile. “Is that worth your current imprisonment?”
“Had I managed to kill all three, yes.” I saw no point in lying to him. My end on the gallows would come regardless of whether I groveled or swaggered, whether I spat rude words or fawned at his feet. I managed to rise, wincing as my tingling legs protested, and rubbed my chafed wrists together inside their rope.
The Bishop continued to watch me thoughtfully. “These men weren’t your first,” he said at last. “You’re accustomed to killing. I know the look.”
“From your own mirror, Your Excellency?”
He laughed. “You have a viper’s tongue. I’m surprised no one’s cut it out before now.”
“I’m surprised myself.”
“How many have you killed?”
“Four or five.”
“For money? Or on behalf of some other tavern maid?”
“For protection. Men who sought to rob me and thought they could kick a dwarf about in safety.”
“Most men think that. You killed them for it?”
“Men of normal size don’t have to kill when they are attacked by drunks or thieves.” I felt very numb but oddly pleased at how conversationally my words were coming out. “They use their fists; they make a few lunges with a dagger; they kick and wrestle. That can make an attacker think twice and maybe retreat with a few bruises.” I gestured down at myself. “I can put a knife through a man’s eye at a distance, but once he closes the gap I am helpless. I cannot hit him, punch him, wrestle him, bruise him, or in any way stop him from doing what he wishes. A man moves to attack me, and I must make the decision to kill him at once or let him do whatever he likes to me.”
“You could wound rather than kill.”
“Ineffective,” I said. “Wound a man, and he’ll be so angered at being bested by a dwarf that he’ll report the attack, either to the constables or to his friends. I have a distinctive appearance. I’m not likely to remain unfound if someone unfriendly is looking for me.”
The young Bishop regarded me another moment. “If you still had your freedom, little man, what would you do? What is it you most wish for?”
Books, I thought. To be tall. To matter. “I’ll settle for the woman’s third killer,” I said.