The inn was just ahead. The last thing the two of them should be doing was arguing. “Make yourself scarce,” she said, not wanting to be seen with the squire in case the assassin was watching.
He slowed his pace, allowing her to walk a few feet in front of him. The assassin hadn’t specified a time to meet, he’d just said for her to come here alone tonight. Shoving open the wooden door, she entered the inn and headed straight to the tavern on the bottom floor of the establishment. Most of the tables were taken, and the bar was packed. She made her way through the patrons, searching for the assassin.
As she passed by a table where three burly men sat, one reached out, grabbing her around the waist. Before she even thought about what to do, her dagger was out and at the man’s throat. “Release me,” she demanded, not even blinking.
He let go, putting his hands up in surrender. “Apologies,” he muttered. “Didn’t mean no harm.”
She slid her dagger back in place and continued searching the tavern. A serving wench carrying a tray filled with mugs of ale approached Allyssa. “I was told to give this to a girl wearing a long cape and hood.” She held out a piece of paper.
Allyssa took it and read: Room 205.
Blimey. He wanted to meet in a private room, so there wouldn’t be any witnesses. She stood there, trying to figure out the best course of action. The smart thing would be to turn around and leave—go home and tell her father what had happened. He could investigate further if he felt the need.
However, if she didn’t meet with the assassin, then he’d find someone else who worked at the castle and proposition them. If he was sent to kill the royal family, she needed to know about it so she could protect her parents. Given the threat from Russek, she had to consider that the assassin might have been sent by King Drenton. Therefore, she really had little choice—she had to meet with him.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jarvik enter and take a seat at a table in the back corner. Shoving the paper into her pocket, she casually strolled through the tavern, moving closer to the stairs. She had to be quick before the squire or one of his guards realized what she was about to do and stopped her. Nearing the steps, she bolted up them two at a time to the second floor. Room 205 was located at the end of the hallway.
Allyssa was about to knock on the door when it creaked open a few inches and she was yanked inside.
Darkness surrounded Allyssa, and she couldn’t see a thing. Fumbling for her knife, it wasn’t there. She reached down for the one in her boot, but it was gone as well.
Blasted.
Someone banged on the wooden door to the room. “Open up!” a man shouted. She couldn’t tell if it was Jarvik or not.
Fingers curled over her mouth, and she felt a body behind her. “Do exactly as I say,” a man whispered in her ear.
She nodded.
“Get rid of whoever is out there. Now.”
The assassin led her forward in the dark. The door opened a few inches, and Allyssa saw a man standing there. Behind him, she glimpsed Jarvik on the stairs, his face white and panic stricken.
“Can I help you?” she asked. The assassin squeezed her arms, and she had to stifle a yelp. She knew if she screamed, Jarvik would storm in there and rescue her.
“I’m looking for a barmaid,” the man said, swaying on his feet as if drunk. His eyes however, were keen and alert. He had to be one of Jarvik’s guards. “Long, blonde hair, fine body, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t seen her.”
“My apologies,” he slurred. He moved to the next door and banged on it.
The assassin closed the door and released her. There was a scuffling sound and a candle was lit, casting a soft glow over part of the room. The man stood in the corner, hidden in shadows. He wore a cape concealing his face and obscuring his body.
Allyssa shivered. “What do you want?” she asked.
“I’ve seen you entering and leaving the castle. I assume you work there?”
Thankfully, he hadn’t figured out who she was yet. “Yes,” she answered.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said, speaking with an accent that indicated he wasn’t from Emperion. He had a slight drawl, like the northerners did.
“What makes you think I’m interested?” she asked.
His head tilted to the side. “I know you’ve been coming and going from the castle. Don’t you think it’s safe to assume I’ve been watching you? Both you and your friend, Grevik.”
She reached for her weapon that wasn’t there.
The assassin tsked, shaking his head. “You can’t harm me—not when your friend’s life hangs in the balance.”