The Decoy Princess Page 12

  My jaw clenched. “I don’t owe you anything. Go away.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Hold up.” He matched his pace to mine. “Ah, no one has caught me cheating since I was fourteen.”

  “Congratulations.” My eyes were on the next pool of light. Perhaps I should have tolerated the innkeeper’s son after all.

  “Will you listen to me?”

  He grabbed my arm, stopping me. Shocked, I tugged away from him. “Don’t touch me!” I said, feeling my face go hot. Angry, I continued on, my pace quick and stilted. If he grabbed me again, I was going to drop him where he stood.

  The cheat took a breath and surged after me. “All right, but listen. What you did in the inn was incredible. I’ve never built up such a stockpile of cards before. Not that fast. You fed them to me,” he said, sounding grudgingly impressed. “Offered distractions so I could move them. And you did it so you could blackmail me into giving the winnings to you.”

  “What if I did?” I said, not proud of myself.

  “Don’t be such a snot,” he said, and I stifled the urge to slap him. “I’m not mad. Not anymore, anyway. It was as beautiful a bit of trickery as I’ve ever seen. You took the table’s money and kept your lily-white hands spotless.”

  “Must be my breeding showing,” I muttered. Why was he still here? I had made it obvious I wanted him to go.

  “Will you stop?” he demanded. “We can do far better together than we can alone.”

  My feet halted, and I stared at him. He thought I was a thief. He wanted us to work together? “I am not a thief!” I said loudly, and he pursed his lips in bother and glanced over the empty street.

  “Of course you’re not,” he said, with a hurried quickness, eyes still roving. “Neither am I. I’m a cheat, and I only take from those who can afford it.”

  “Oh,” I said dryly. “A noble cheat. That makes it so-o-o-o much better.”

  Duncan didn’t seem bothered by my scorn, actually touching the brim of his dirty hat. Angel’s Spit, was there nothing clean outside the palace? “So what do you say, Lady Black Sheep? Shall we find a quiet table and have a quiet conversation?”

  “No,” I said sharply. “I’m not interested in your paltry little schemes . . .” I hesitated. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Duncan.”

  “. . . Duncan,” I said, gripping Pitch’s lead tight. “I want to leave the city, not fleece it.”

  “Good idea. Leaving, I mean.” He lurched into motion as I strode briskly forward. “This damned betrothal has everyone jumpy. But you’ve got a star-shining play with your act of fallen wealth to soften their guard, little girl. Pit that with my skills at cards, and the excess coinage we could alleviate is incalculable.”

  I seethed at being called “little girl,” but as I put my eyes on the next puddle of light, my throat tightened in fear. I forced myself to keep moving and not draw attention by changing my pace. A soldier, in my father’s colors, but I could tell he was Garrett’s man by his stance alone.

  Not so soon! I thought, my knees going weak. They couldn’t be looking for me in the streets already. Swallowing hard, I shifted the dart between my fingers. I could probably put the sentry down from here using the new dart tube in my hair, but it would tell Garrett where I was.

  There was an alley to my right, and I took it, heading away from the docks and toward the western gate up a street and over. A flash of annoyance colored my fright as Duncan matched my move. He glanced behind us with a casual interest. “Where are we going?”

  “We aren’t going anywhere,” I said, distracted. “Will you please leave?”

  The alley opened into the next street. This one was still lit and busy as it led to the gate. I forced my pace to slow, matching that of those around us. My pulse raced. Duncan walked beside me, his silence worrying. I put the back of my hand to my face, carefully wedging my palmed dart into my sleeve. My cheek was cold. How was I going to get past them?

  “I don’t think you realize the extent of my talents, Lady Black Sheep,” Duncan said. “I am the best carder up and down the coast. Maybe you’ve heard of me?”

  “No. And stop calling me that.”

  “What do you want me to call you, then?”

  “Tess.” I glanced ahead to a guard questioning a haggard woman with a heavy pack bowing down her shoulders. They were looking for me: a woman traveling alone.

  “Well, Tess,” Duncan continued, watching me watch the woman. “I can assure you there’s few as good at cards as I am. It’s a mistake to walk away. You owe it to yourself to at least see what you’re turning down.”

  The woman was dismissed, and she shuffled to the gates with an uncomfortable haste. They are looking for me! I thought, my mind whirling. “Take my hand,” I said, feeling ill.

  “Your hand?” he said slyly, the surprise I’d have expected utterly absent. “Of course.”

  My stomach dropped. Shifting his horse’s lead, he slipped his hand into my free one. It was warm and dry, and he twined his fingers into mine with a grip that wasn’t tight but comfortably firm. A surge of unexpected emotion warmed the pit of my belly, mixing with my fear in a spine-tingling slurry of feeling.

  I kept my head lowered as we approached the sentry. I thought of my dart up my sleeve and the whip on my waist. Don’t see me. Don’t see me, I thought, the litany setting my blood to pound through my head. Vertigo came from nowhere, rising to set my limbs trembling as we passed him. But we continued, unchecked. The city gate was ahead, the night black beyond it. “What is he doing, Duncan?” I asked softly, thinking I should have eaten that soup, whether it was staring at me or not.

  Duncan tipped his hat off, looking behind us as he picked it up. “Watching us,” he drawled with a questioning, confident lilt to his voice.

  “Hold me,” I whispered, feeling unreal and distant. “Keep walking.”

  “Of course, Tess.” His tone had a sly understanding, and he put an arm over my shoulders and pulled me close. I could smell the stink of ale on him, mixing with woodsmoke, crushed grass, and his own sweat. My blood tingled, and I cursed myself for a fool, thinking how heady his arm felt about me while my life hung by a thread. He wasn’t a nervous young noble. His hands weren’t ready to fly from me at the slightest sound. They gripped me with a dominating sureness that carried a promise I’d never felt before.

  “Mmmm, a whip?” he breathed as his featherlight touch of his fingers slipped down my shoulder to find my hip. “You are full of surprises. Anything else I can do for you, love?” An unstoppable shiver shook me. “A kiss, maybe?”

  Oh, God help me. He knew what he was doing to me. A wisp of my hair pulled against the stubble on his cheek, and I stared at him, seeing his eyes go intense. I heard the guard hail someone behind us, and I pushed Duncan away.

  His soft chuckle said more than words. I could tell I was flushing and was glad the dark hid it. My heart was pounding, and my knees were weak. It’s from the danger, I thought, not because a man’s arms were about me. But I knew I lied. I’d been held by men before and stolen flirtatious kisses behind the roses. I knew how easy it was to confuse the thrill of danger with the stir of desire. And I knew what I felt was not born from the guards but Duncan.

  Duncan glanced behind us, then leaned close. “They’re looking for you,” he said, his breath on my cheek warm. “What did you do? Correct their manners? Tell them their stockings needed mending?”

  “Nothing.” I forced my thoughts from him, recognizing them for the folly they were.

  “Well, there’s another guard. I’d wager he knows. I’ll ask him.”

  Fear pulled my head up. “No.”

  Duncan’s look turned almost angry. “Spill it, pretty thief. What did you do?”

  Taking a quick breath, I eyed the gate ahead, counting four sentries, two on either side of the opening. I couldn’t tell Duncan who I was. “They might think I stole a horse,” I improvised. “Just help me get past the gates.”

  His anger turned to
a manipulative understanding. “Ah. This one here?” he asked, not appalled as I thought he should be. “Not smart, Lady Black Sheep. They hang you for that in the capital. Well, they’d hang me for that. You, they’d probably strip and flog.” He eyed me. “That might be entertaining.”

  “I didn’t steal her,” I nearly hissed, frantic he might turn me in. “I paid for her. The man let the first one run away. I had every right to take another! And you are a disgusting pile of chu, you know that?”

  We slowed as we fell into the line before the gate. My face went cold when his expression changed, becoming darker, more intense as he ran his eyes slowly over me, lingering on my shallow curves and face, never reaching my eyes. I’d never been looked at like that before, and I stifled a shudder.

  “I want everything you won at the inn,” he said, finally meeting my eyes.

  My breath caught. “I spent it. All of it.”

  “In an hour?” he protested. “You had—” His brow furrowed in bother. “You couldn’t have spent all of it!”

  “I’m good at spending money,” I said bitterly. “It’s all I’ve done for the past ten years.” We were starting to attract attention, and I lowered my voice. “Please. Help me get out. I’ll give you whatever you want—except the horse.”

  The press of the people at the gate had increased, and Duncan’s gray horse tossed his head and fidgeted. The cheat soothed the flighty animal with a surprising gentleness. His eyes caught the torchlight, glinting in greed. I waited in a breathless anticipation.

  His gaze flicked to the sentries at the gate, then over my shoulder behind us. Nodding, he pulled out a clay flask. Uncorking it, he took a swallow. My lips curled as he spilled some on his front. “Get back, woman!” he suddenly shouted, shocking me. “Before I beat you blue.”

  Wide-eyed, I gripped the dart hidden in my sleeve. A wash of vertigo took me, dying to nothing as he rolled his eyes toward the sentries in exasperation. My tension eased, then swelled back to life.

  “Damned wench,” he said, hunching into himself and slurring his words. “Get behind me where you belong.”

  I flushed. But the cart ahead of us trundled through the gate. Freedom beckoned, barred by sheathed swords. The night shimmered in the hazy moonlight, its darkness and cooler air welcoming compared to the crush of people behind me. I shirked back between the horses, trying to stay unnoticed. Nausea rose high, and I forced myself to breathe.

  “Trouble?” the sentry said as he looked past Duncan to the people lined up behind us.

  “Cursed wife spent all the money,” he grumbled. “Left me with hardly anything to put ale in my belly. Why do we have to wait? We’ve never had to wait before.”

  Duncan leaned heavily against the sentry, breathing his stale breath over him. The sentry pushed him away. “What was your business?” the other guard asked in a bored litany.

  “Selling my culled rams. She bought a cloak with the money.” He turned to me, spittle flying as he shouted, “You don’t need a cloak! You never stir your ugly hide out of the house!”

  Don’t see me, I thought, pulse hammering. Don’t see me at all. My head felt thick, and I stared at the ground and held onto the saddle as my knees threatened to give way. Something was wrong. I was afraid, but it wasn’t fear that was making my muscles tremble and my head spin. The sensations were reminiscent of when Kavenlow had been building my immunity to the venom on my darts. Why was I so dizzy?

  “She keeps me from my ale,” Duncan slurred. “Shouldn’t keep a man from his ale.” He lurched, falling into the sentry again, holding himself up by the man’s shoulders.

  The sentry shoved him away. “Go,” he said in disgust. “Go on. Get out.”

  Duncan fell back into his horse’s shoulder. The frightened animal shied, and I reached out. “Woman!” he shouted. “Help me onto my horse.”

  “Get out,” the sentry demanded, drawing his sword. I cried a warning as it descended, smacking into the rump of Duncan’s horse. The animal lunged forward through the gate, dragging Duncan since he refused to let go of the reins. I jogged after them with Pitch. When I caught up, Duncan shoved his horse’s bridle into my hand and stumbled to Pitch’s side.

  “I said, help me up!” Duncan slurred.

  The guard’s eyes were on me. Leaning close, I whispered, “Get on your own horse!”

  “A man wouldn’t let his wife have a saddle before he had one,” he said softly. Then he broke into song, singing lustily as he tried to get up on to Pitch’s saddle. The mare spun in a quick circle as he fumbled and lurched, finally gaining her back.

  Outraged, I flung the reins over Pitch’s head to him. His horse’s reins were in my hands, and I looked up at the gray’s tall back. The monster stood too high for me to get up on without a stirrup, so I angrily paced beside them. Duncan gave a loud, wet belch, disgusting me. My jaw clenched, but as I glanced back at the city’s walls, I realized I was out. I had done it! Somehow we had done it!

  The night air felt cooler, and a great deal cleaner. Heart pounding, I fought the urge to move faster. All of the visible traffic before us had turned west to the little arable land we had. My ears warmed as I abruptly understood the words that Duncan was singing. Even worse, he kept starting over every time he got stuck at the same phrase. Finally he remembered it, yelling it at the top of his voice. The silence as he quit seemed all the more profound.

  Slowly the noise of the horses’ hooves became loud. We were alone, the trees arching over us protectively, hiding us from the stars. I tucked the dart back into my hair with shaking hands. My dizziness had gone, leaving my hands trembling with only my spent fear.

  The shadow that was Duncan looked down at me, his smug satisfaction obvious even in the blackness. “There you are, Lady Black Sheep,” he said. “I got you out, safe and sound.”

  “Thank you,” I said tightly, my worry at my vertigo coming out as anger. And I didn’t like him riding when I was forced to walk.

  “Thank you?” he said, sounding affronted. “I got you past four—no, five guards—and all I get is a thank-you? You ungrateful brat! You think that was easy? It wasn’t as if it was raining and we could have simply walked past them.”

  My eyes narrowed as he swung down, putting us back on more even terms. The knots in my belly eased. It lasted for all of three heartbeats until he said, “So, about my fee . . .”

  I rocked back a step. I had nothing. My offer, while not empty, lacked a certain promptness. My face burned. “I said I spent it. You’ll get your money as soon as I do.”

  “Oh-h-h-h,” he laughed. “I’ve heard that before. And I’ve got a burning-hell good idea on how you can pay me back.”

  The appraising way he was eying me made my pulse race, and a new fear set my stomach to roil. He was three stone over my weight and stood half a head taller than I did. Remembering the warmth of his arm about me, I backed up. If he touched me, he would die with three darts in his belly. “Take my supplies,” I said, cursing my voice as it quavered.

  “I don’t want your supplies. I want to know how you saw me move my cards. A week working together ought to do it. And I keep everything until you pay me back what you took in the inn.”

  My breath came in a gulp of surprise. A week working together? “I told you I’m not a cheat. I appreciate your help, and if you don’t take your fee from my supplies, it’s not my fault.”

  Saying nothing, he shoved Pitch’s lead at me, and I stepped back out of his reach, heart pounding. He hesitated, eying me. “Kinda skittery, aren’t you?”

  I stared, not believing this was happening as he dropped Pitch’s lead and reached for her cinch. “What are you doing?” I finally managed, snatching her reins up and gripping them along with his horse’s lead.

  “Taking your saddle until you pay me back.”

  Pitch’s ears flicked as her cinch swung free. “What?” I exclaimed. “I never . . .”

  He turned, his stance going aggressive. “You said if I helped you past the gates, you wou
ld give me anything except your horse. I can’t believe you were stupid enough to steal a horse! Or do you make a habit of using your womanly charms to win your innocence? God I hate that. You women get everything for nothing.”

  “You chull bait!” I exclaimed. “I’ve never stolen anything in my life! I paid for her!”

  “Yeah. All right.” Undoing the knot holding the pad to his horse, he handed me the blanket. I held it blankly. “You can have my riding pad,” he said magnanimously as he moved my saddle from Pitch to his horse.

  Dumbfounded, but realizing the only other option was to cowardly dart him and run, I did nothing as he took the blanket from my loose grip and fastened it atop Pitch. Giving his horse a reassuring pat, he made the half jump to his horse’s back, not even using the stirrups. I dropped his horse’s reins, and Duncan leaned forward to gather them up.

  “Where to?” he said, looking very pleased with himself as he sat tall in my saddle. “Saltwood is the only thing in this direction, and finding a fisherman willing to risk a coin on cards is like finding a virgin in a brothel.” He hesitated, his face lost in shadow. “There’re the sailors, though. They don’t have much money, but they’re free with it. That might be a good place to start. Work out the tack we’re going to play out before we hit the bigger towns.” He hesitated, looking down at me. “You gonna walk the whole way?”

  I led Pitch to a fallen tree and scrambled up the best I could. Duncan’s eyes widened as he saw me with my feet to either side of the animal. He opened his mouth, then looked away as I flushed and pulled my cloak to cover my legs. I sniffed, trying to make it as haughty as I could. “Keep the saddle. I’m not working with you,” I said, nudging Pitch into motion.

  “No, no, no, my pretty thief,” he said as he pulled even with me. “You owe me. And I want to know how you spotted me moving my cards. If you caught me, someone else could.”

  “I’m not a thief,” I said, wondering if I dare try to outrun him in the dark. I’d never ridden without a saddle. The movement of muscles under me was odd, and not entirely uncomfortable.