Ten Arrows

Chapter 1

I'd been mingling at the palace for over an hour, and my coin purse was still firmly attached to my belt, much to my disappointment.

Many of the dozens of Lords and Ladies I'd been mingling with had noticed the dangling purse, I was sure of it. I'd seen more than a few pairs of eyes flick towards it, just sitting there on my belt, impossible to ignore. Heck, a blind cutpurse would have been aware of it for all the jingling it was doing.

And it wasn't exactly like I was making it difficult to see, either. Instead of my usual three-quarter cloak, I was wearing a brand new black and silver half-cloak over my left shoulder, which, in addition to looking rather natty and stylish, exposed my entire right side. The very side my coin purse was tied.

I mean, anyone with even modest pickpocketing ability could have lifted it from me at least ten times in the past hour alone. And yet there it was, still attached to my belt, hanging obnoxiously to one side, all but ignored by my peers. Considering that the reception hall contained hundreds of fellow Thief-Lords, a collection of the most accomplished thieves in all of Harael, for a purse to go untouched for as long as mine had . . . well, it was just downright sad.

Of course, I suspected I knew the reason why nobody had stolen it yet, or had even made the attempt.

They were scared.

I surveyed the room for about the thousandth time, sipping at my glass of green wine, a particularly nice Norsk'es forty-seven I'd spotted near the back of the serving table. It had overtones of peach and oak, and the barest hint of lemongrass, and was quite pleasantly refreshing. There were some very nice wines being offered at the palace this year - mostly green and red, but even a few bottles of that new 'white' wine that had become all the rage. I don't really care for white all that much, though I'll occasionally tease Mosond, my cook, by threatening to pick up a bottle or two. I only do it because I love the way he says the word 'abomination'. I think it's the accent.

At first glance, it didn't appear that there was anyone in the elegantly decorated room that I hadn't already exchanged pleasantries with. Then I happened to spy Lord Oxythe standing off in the corner a ways, about forty feet or so, one hand absently smoothing his rather tasteful robes. He and I had always been on reasonable terms from what I could recall, even before the territorial nightmares of the past year.

I caught his eye and gave him a quick head-nod, raising my glass a half-inch in his direction.

He appeared mildly alarmed to have caught my attention, and his eyes quickly darted to one side, as though trying to pretend he hadn't seen me. Then, he seemed to consider for a few seconds, looked back to me, gave me an awkward half-smile, nodded thoughtfully, held up his own wine glass, looked mildly distressed for a few more seconds, and then turned in place and joined a small collection of Lords that were talking a few feet away from him. I took it for the sort of behavior meant to discourage me from coming over and striking up a conversation.

That sort of thing had already happened more than a few times this past hour. I stifled a small sigh, sipping some more of my wine.

Yeah, they were definitely scared of me.

It's not like I'm particularly imposing or anything like that. I'm around five-foot-nine, and keep myself trim, mostly because it's easier to do things like climb rope and scale rock walls when you don't weigh all that much. I'm nowhere near as physically intimidating as some others I could mention.

Take Theo, for instance. The burly, dark-haired monster of a swordsman could probably turn most professional duelists white as a sheet with nothing more than a bored look and a slightly raised eyebrow. He's far more physically frightening than I'll ever be, and yet he wasn't scaring people even half as badly as I was. He hadn't been catching the same sort of frightened, nervous glances that were practically the only kind I'd been seeing since arriving at the palace.