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EXACTLY

Tanya Huff

Tanya Huff lives and writes in rural Ontario with her partner, Fiona Patton, an unintentional Chihuahua,

and six and a half cats. Her latest book from DAW is Smoke and Ashes, the third and last Tony Foster

novel, and her next book will be a new installment in the Valorseries. When she isn’t writing, she’s

weighing the pros and cons of raising trout in her flooded crawlspace.

“A SSASSINS,” COMMANDER NEEGAN declared in the rough whisper that was all

an enemy arrow had left of his voice, “do not take leave.”

“But it won’t exactly be leave,” Marshal Chela reminded him.

“They will be away from the army but not on target.” A dark brow rose. “I fail to see the

difference, Marshal.”

“They won’t exactly be on target. There’s the difference, Commander. Governor Delat is

convinced she’s got an Ilagian sorcerer pretending to be a carpet seller. She thinks he’s the vanguard of

an Astoblite invasion since Prince Aveon welcomes both Ilagians and sorcerors to his court.”

“Why would Prince Aveon invade the South Reaches?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s looking for vacation property. The point is, Governor Delat has

demanded we do something about her problem—which may or may not be the result of an overactive

imagination. Vree and Bannon will go to the South Reaches as if they were common soldiers on leave,

and they’ll use their unique skills to determine whether or not this Ilagian carpet seller is a sorcerer

working for Prince Aveon. If he turns out to be what Delat fears,” the marshal continued, “they’ll send a

message back with one of her couriers, and I’ll send them new orders. If not, they can come back to

barracks having spent a pleasant few days in a nice little resort town on the emperor’s coin. You have to

admit, they deserve a bit of a break.”

Neegan’s expression suggested he had to admit nothing of the sort.

“You know Shonna took leave in the South Reaches when she won all that money betting on that

fight Oneball had with Keenin last year.”

“I know, Bannon.”

“She said it was the best five days of her life. Full body rubs with scent oils. All the food she could

eat. All the wine she could drink. And the sex! She said South Reaches whores were more flexible than

even you, sister-mine.”

Vree rolled her eyes and shot her younger brother a look it was just as well he didn’t see. “We’re

on target.”

“Not exactly.” He threw an arm across her shoulders. “And that means there’s no reason we can’t

enjoy ourselves while we’re finding out. Look at it, Vree.” His voice brought her to the halt his arm

hadn’t—she’d walked right out of his careless embrace when he’d stopped. “The South Reaches. Isn’t it

pretty?”

They were standing on the Shore Road, on top of a hill looking down at the town.

“Pretty?” Vree repeated wondering if Bannon had gotten a little too much sun.

He grinned. “In a ‘hey, look at all the colors’ sort of way.”

All the colors was no exaggeration. Even the expensive packed earth houses of the wealthy that

fronted the white sand beaches stretching out on both sides of the small harbor were an astounding

variety of pastel shades. The town itself had moved past astounding to unbelievable. Red, blue, yellow,

orange, turquoise, and every shade of pink imaginable covered the wooden walls, the colors crammed

close together and jostling for attention.

“There’s a pair of Astoblite ships in the harbor. Maybe they’ve already invaded.”

Vree frowned at the two vessels tied side by side at the north pier. “In those? They’re probably

small traders delivering exotic wines and…” Her frown deepened. Born in barracks and having spent her

entire twenty years in the army, she was ill equipped to come up with another exotic example.

“Perfumed oils,” Bannon offered when it became obvious she wasn’t going to fill in the blank.

“You’re fixating on those full body rubs, aren’t you?”

“I hear they’re very good for working knots out of stiff muscles,” he said cheerfully as they started

walking again. “We can’t do our job if we’re all knotted up.”

“You can’t do your job if you’re lying naked on a slab.”

“You’d be amazed at what I can do lying naked on a slab.”

“I’m not that easily amazed,” she snorted, hip checked him, and snickered when he had to dance

to miss a pile of horse shit on the road.

The South Reaches had no walls and no gates, but at the edge of town the Shore Road passed

between two pairs of heavily muscled young men in black uniform kilts and tunics. “The governor’s

guard,” Vree murmured as they approached.

“Think they can use any of that hardware?” Bannon asked at the same volume.

All four carried short swords in black-and-silver sheaths and two daggers, one on their belts and

one sheathed at the edge of their black greaves. Their collective size was impressive and drew many

admiring glances from other, less discerning, travelers. They made Bannon, who was taller than Vree by

almost a head, look scrawny.

Everyone else on the road had passed unchallenged, but a massive hand beckoned the siblings

over to the east-side guard post. Since there was no easy way to tell what they were, Vree wondered if

the guards were more perceptive than seemed possible and had realized they were a threat or if they

were about to indulge in a little soldier baiting. She was betting on the latter and figured it was pretty

much a sucker bet.

“So, what have we here?” The guard who spoke had the smug, self-satisfied air of a bully who’d

aged easily into a brute. He waited until the other two guards crossed the road to join the huddle before

continuing. “It seems we’ve stopped a couple of the Empire’s brave soldiers. Looks like they’re scraping

the bottom of the barrel, don’t it?”

His crew laughed.

“You two do a little looting and then decide to grace the South Reaches with your ill-gotten gold?”

“Actually, we spent all our ill-gotten gold on a couple of magic beans that turned out to be total

crap.” Bannon grinned at the glowering faces. “We’re just here on leave.”

“This is an expensive place. Let’s see your coin.” The leader poked a sausage-sized finger at

Bannon’s shoulder and missed by a hair’s breadth. Which was exactly how far Bannon had moved.

“No coin,” he said, still grinning. “Just a letter of credit from our marshal.”

At Bannon’s gesture, Vree pulled the letter from her belt pouch and handed it over. She wasn’t

worried about it being destroyed, since she had every confidence in being able to take it from the big

man’s hand if he made the attempt. Of course, he wouldn’t survive the attempt, so she hoped he was

smarter than he looked.

He scowled at the piece of vellum, lips moving as he puzzled out the larger words. “Why would

you two skinny grunts rate a letter of credit?” he demanded when he finished.

“Services rendered. At the battle of Bonkeep the two of us were personally responsible for the

deaths of the enemy commander and his entire staff.”

“Yeah. Right.” But his gaze kept dropping to the letter. “Reeno, search their bags.”

They were carrying the bare essentials, the sorts of things any soldier on leave would carry. When

Reeno got a little rough with her kit, Vree murmured, “Gently,” at him and, when he looked up, she

smiled.

She caught her bag before it hit the road and didn’t bother correcting him when he pretended he’d

thrown it there on purpose. After all, from a distance “thrown there on purpose” looked very much like

“dropped from nerveless fingers.”

“There’s nothing, Orin.” Reeno barely looked in Bannon’s bag before giving it back. “Just, you

know, clothes and stuff.”

“No weapons?”

“Their daggers…”

“I can see that!” Orin glared at Reeno and then at them. “Letter of credit, eh? Maybe someone

who deserves this ought to use it.”

“You’ll have to kill us to keep it,” Bannon pointed out.

“Orin!” Reeno nodded toward the traffic still passing by on the road. Toward witnesses.

Orin pretended to crumple the letter up, but when neither Vree nor Bannon reacted, he thrust it

back at Bannon. Vree hid a grin at his expression when he crushed air instead of Bannon’s hand. “I’ll be

watching you.”

“Not a problem.”

“Not a problem?” Vree repeated as they moved out of eavesdropping range.

“Hey, at least I didn’t threaten young Reeno’s manhood.”

“All I did was smile at him.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“You told them that we were here as a reward for taking out an entire command staff.”

“We did.”

“But that’s not why we’re here.”

He patted her fondly on the arm. “You really suck at this lying thing, don’t you?”

“Forget it, Bannon.” Vree wrapped her hand around her brother’s arm and dragged him to a stop

as he started up the broad front steps of the Cyprus Garden Inn. “We are not staying here.”

“Too small?” He frowned up at the pale pink walls and wide louvered windows thrown open to

catch the late afternoon breeze. “I was hoping for cozy, but—hey—elegant’s fine if that’s what you

want.”

“Don’t be such a slaughtering smart-ass. This…” She jerked her head toward the two story

building, conscious that they were under scrutiny from the inn’s atrium. “…is too expensive.”

Bannon touched his belt pouch where the letter of credit had ended up. “We’re on the emperor’s

coin, sister-mine. And besides,” he added before she could respond, “this place is used to soldiers

who’ve had a run of luck. It’s where Shonna stayed.”

“You asked her?”

“I did. Now if you really want to stay in some bug-infested dive with sweet piss all in the way

of…”

“Here’s fine.” Releasing his arm, she started up the steps. If it was good enough for Shonna, it was

nothing more than they deserved.

“Still angry about her trying to gamble away your coin?” Bannon asked as he caught up.

“Sod off.” Of course she was. And he knew it. And that was why he’d brought them to this inn.

She’d be upset about how easily he could read her except there wasn’t much point; a lifetime of training

had all but taught them to think with one mind.

They had a pair of adjoining rooms at the back of the building, small but clean. Included was

unlimited access to the hotel’s bathhouse and one meal each day of their stay.

“I like the sound of the bathhouse,” Vree admitted, going into her brother’s room. She’d already

tested the strength of the balcony railing and noted all lines of sight to her window. “It’s hard to stay

unnoticed when you stink of the road.”

Stripped down to his sling, Bannon stared up at her from his sprawl on the bed. “I stink of the

road?”

“We stink of the road.”

“I just got comfortable.”

“There’ll be bath attendants.”

“Easy enough to get comfortable again.” He grinned as he stood and scooped up his kilt. “Lead

the way, sister-mine. A bath, a meal, and visit to a carpet shop,” he continued as she led the way down

the backstairs. “What more could a man want—except maybe a full body massage with scented oils.”

“We’re working.”

“Not exactly. Not yet.”

Her bath attendant was as taken with Bannon as his was.

“Your man is quite the flirt,” she sighed, absently passing Vree a soapy sponge.

“He’s not my man; he’s my brother and be my guest.”

She preferred to wash herself anyway. The possibility of being temporarily blinded by accidental

soap in the eye by a distracted attendant was too dangerous to risk in her line of work. Their line of

work. Not that Bannon seemed to be worried. But then again why should he when she was?

Well, slaughter that. This was not-exactly her leave, too.

She had the kid for supper and roasted peppers and a sherbet made with ice brought down from

the mountains at—if the price was any indication—great expense. Bannon grinned and saluted her with a

raw oyster.

According to Governor Delat, the Ilagian had opened his carpet shop in the jumble of tiny streets

close to the harbor. Painted a pale green, it was fifth in from the corner Fat Alley shared with the Street

of Knives. Washed and fed, Vree and Bannon wandered toward it past market stalls and shops

crammed full of items designed to separate tourists from their money. Everything that could have some

variation of “I bought this in the South Reaches” stamped on it, did.

“Bannon, look at this.”

This was a knife-seller’s stall. This specifically was a dagger with a broad curved brass blade

etched with a rough map of the South Reaches and the legend Don’t cut me out of your life.

“What’s that mean?” Bannon muttered as they stared at the blade.

Vree shrugged. “No idea.”

The tang and the pommel were also brass, suggesting that the dagger had been made from one

piece of metal while the weight suggested otherwise. The grip had been wrapped in leather strips died a

virulent orange-red, small shells danging from the half dozen tassels. The sheath was a slightly darker

shade and a double row of the same shells had been glued along its length.

Tanya Huff - Exactly.pdf

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