Disgraceful

By Katie Roman

Chaos has descended on Glenbard. The people are starving, martial law has been imposed, and the country is marshalling for war. With the King of Thieves arrested a violent upstart has stepped into his place, leaving the people too terrified to take stand. From her cell in prison, Grace Hilren can only watch and scheme.
Chosen by Glenbard's patron goddess, Grace is filled with a grim determination to save her city and its people. But Grace's foe isn't a petty thief or highwayman, now she faces the crown itself. With sword in hand Grace will do whatever is needed to bring justice to the land.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie Roman
• Release date: Jun 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310004971

Katie Roman

Raised in the suburbs of Chicago, Katie Roman has been many things. Student, band geek, dog sitter, history major , and consummate tea drinker, but above all things she's been a writer.

Book preview

The sun shone high above Glenbard, though it didn’t bring much warmth with it. Winter came early, and the usual mild autumns the citizens enjoyed were destroyed by a wind that cut through their clothes to their very bones. A few wandering merchants told the citizens to be thankful they didn’t live in the north, as it was already snowing heavily in Arganis. Some joked that the only thing that kept the lumberjacks in Arganis warm was the burning of their lord’s castle.

But Arganis wasn’t the only place to burn in those days. Some of the fields in Actis had been burned and salted. To Glenbard folk, these were distant places where only merchant caravans went. It wasn’t until rumors spread that the fields of Egona were next that they felt trouble was coming too close to home. Whatever trouble the king had with his lords wasn’t their concern. There were bigger troubles in the city. The Duke of Escion had declared martial law, taken over the food stores to feed his soldiers, and set up a curfew. He’d arrested the King of Thieves and driven his successors into hiding.

Ridley wasn’t so much hiding as she was contemplating, as she sought sanctuary in the temple of Diggery. She sat in the back of the temple listening to the head priest, Father Thorne, drone on. She found his extolling of the virtues of the goddess to be boring. He spoke as though he were about to die, but she didn’t dare tell him how his sermons put her to sleep. He was kind to allow her to stay, and provided her a room and food without complaint. In exchange, he expected her to attend at least one service a day and to clean whatever needed cleaning. He excused her from copying and reciting from Diggery’s holy book because Ridley only knew how to write and read her own name.

Men from the city guard often came to talk to her, trying to coax her out of hiding. She trusted none of them, save for one. Captain Nathaniel Moore slid into the seat next to her. He wore his daily uniform, a black leather jerkin over a red shirt, with his pants tucked into his boots. His once long black hair had been cut short and he had a long, pink-white scar under his left eye, the only mark on his otherwise perfectly bronzed skin.

He looked forward. Unlike a few weeks ago when Nathaniel kept his involvement in her escape secret, he now came to the temple openly. Sometimes he came with Captain Erickson of the Serenity Place guard house, and sometimes he came alone. He pretended to be working on behalf of the city’s appointed guardian, but he really had his own agenda.

Father Thorne finished his sermon and dismissed the congregation, urging them to donate to the alms box if they were able. Nathaniel and Ridley stayed seated.

How’s Jack? she eventually ventured. Jack’s arrest had startled the city even more than his appointment to city magistrate.

Ridley was immensely proud when she heard that Jack had refused to vote for a measure that would have taken food from the citizens and given it to the Duke of Escion and his men. Even after accepting bribes to vote for it, Jack still voted against it and even punched the duke, making him a hero in the city. In the end, of course, it was a futile gesture. Robert of Escion was granted control of the city by the king’s orders and the food went to him anyway. What was left, meager as it was, was portioned out to the people. With a poor harvest and little food coming in from Cesernan’s allies, the people went hungry. Not for the first time, Ridley wished Jack had killed the duke instead of just breaking his nose.

His Grace of Escion has moved Jack from the depths of the dungeon to the upper levels, the cells normally reserved for nobles and the rich. He’s faring better in Redbank prison than he was a week ago. I think his father is actually taking pity on him, Nathaniel finished with a shrug.

And the city?

There have been a few food riots in Jack’s honor, but the duke sees that they are squashed quickly. Eight men and women have been hanged for treason for attempting to incite rebellion and break into the grain stores. Some of the city’s beggars have died of exposure and hunger, but His Grace doesn’t care. Nathaniel shook his head.

Ridley leaned forward, covering her face with her hands. She took a few deep breaths to stop herself from crying. She straightened, wiped away the few tears that managed to escape, and turned to face Nathaniel again. Has there been any word on Marcus’s punishment?

He’s been loaded onto a ship bound for the forced labor camps on Nareroc. I think the duke hopes the ship will capsize in the early winter storms.

Ridley wanted to ask about Thom, Marcus’s second, but she didn’t dare. She knew Nathaniel was watched often. He simply provided her with news, without passing an opinion, and always told her to leave her sanctuary and turn herself over to the law. However, she also knew he wanted her to stay right where she was. He was an odd man, this servant of the law.

Will you leave the temple with me? he asked, loud enough for any listeners nearby to hear. Those that filed out of the temple gave him a quick glance and hurried on. Most of the city knew Ridley resided here now, and that guards visited several times a day to coax her out.

I keep to my sanctuary. When a year and a day has passed, I will either take the robes of a priestess or leave to whatever fate you have in store, she gave her customary response.

As the lady likes it. Nathaniel got up and strode out with the rest of the congregation. He’d be back tomorrow with more news.

~*~*~

Nathaniel kept a small room at the Rogue’s Lane guard house. It had always served as the acting captain’s lodgings, and it was a good way to save coin on rent and food. It had a lock and only one key, which he kept in a secret pocket inside his captain’s tunic. Some other men lived in the guard house as well, mostly bachelors saving up for a house when they eventually married. They slept far enough away from the captain’s room that Nathaniel didn’t worry about them listening to what went on in his chamber.

The captain fit his key into the lock and pushed his way in, whistling a four note tune as he opened the door. He carried a candle from the clerk’s desk, giving some light to the area, and lit the wall torch with his candle. The room was sparsely furnished, holding a bed with a straw mattress, a bedroll on the floor, and a chest with four drawers for his cityman clothes and extra uniforms was pushed up next to the door. His desk and bookshelf were in the office next to his room. As Nathaniel placed the candle on his dresser, a figure crawled out from under the bed.

I am not a fan of hiding like a runaway, Thom said. Marcus’s right-hand man was tall, too tall to be hiding under a bed all day, but there wasn’t much Nathaniel could do about that. Since returning to Glenbard, Thom had shaved his head and grown a beard to mask his identity as best he could. His brown trousers and gray shirt were covered in dust.

Until His Grace halts this insanity, you are still a wanted man, Nathaniel replied, kicking off his boots.

Thom sat on the bed, much to Nathaniel’s disdain. He had wanted to sit there. He said nothing, though. After all, the man had been cramped under the bed all day.

You are a strange one, Thom remarked. One day you are forcing us thieves to pay high bribes so you can bleed us dry, and now you’re hiding us from being arrested.

I don’t believe in abusing the law to get what I want. Nathaniel stripped off his jerkin, glad to have the weight off his back. I planned to catch Marcus and arrest him, but I wasn’t about to do it on a false warrant and false charges of murder. Nathaniel bristled with memories of the events that led to his advisory’s arrest. Although the murder charges were dropped, the false charges of treason remained. In his leniency, Robert of Escion only sentenced the man to hard labor, but Nathaniel knew that most died within three months on Nareroc. This irked the captain. He hated corruption, and it wounded him to see it so rampant in his city.

Whatever your reasons, Thom said, this time with less contempt in his tone, I thank you for at least saving Ridley from this mess, and for keeping me safe.

I feel that if I were the one being hunted, the Thieves’ Guild would see me hidden, unless I have misjudged Marcus all these years.

Nah, Marcus would take a guard under his protection, if only for the joke of it all. Thom rubbed his legs, kneading the muscles with his long fingers. No one has stepped up to take his place yet?

A few tried, but they are swinging by their necks now. The Duke Robert will not allow it. Some of my informants say that no one dares take the king’s place while he still lives. Your lot has an odd honor system.

A new king is usually only ‘crowned’ when the old one is dead. There have been a few exceptions, but Marcus was too well respected. If word comes to us from Nareroc that Marcus has died, there are a few, Ridley among them, who will vie for the throne, but now they fear he’ll come back and slit their throats for daring to usurp him.

You don’t have designs on the throne? Nathaniel sat on the bedroll, stretching his legs out in front of him.

Me? Gods no! Thom laughed. Nathaniel was beginning to like this thief’s easy nature. He heard stories that Thom was the ears of Rogue’s Lane, and that he knew people’s fortunes before they did. Nathaniel wondered if he could send Thom out to spy around, if the man would even agree to it.

Thom continued, I am loyal to Marcus but should he die, I am still no leader.

Nathaniel shrugged. Things would go a lot smoother on Rogue’s Lane if Thom stepped into Marcus’s place. At the very least he would keep the protestors in front of the guard house down. Nathaniel was tired of walking out in the mornings and dodging the rotten cabbages being thrown at him.

Well, I wish you were a leader. I could certainly use an ally on the streets. He shook his head. I never thought I’d say that to a thief.

Thom got up from the bed. These are strange times, indeed. Martial law has never been issued in Glenbard before, and the duke is not a man I like to see at the helm. He’s making a lot of folk angry and nervous. Who can say what sort of allies any of us will need by the end?

~*~*~

Another week passed, and the air in the city was like a pot ready to boil over. Nathaniel heard people mumbling about the duke’s ironfisted rule. Even his own men made their share of comments.

Each morning and each night Nathaniel went to the storage house with a cart and five guards, all armed. Nathaniel rode alongside the cart to the merchants and inns, delivering their official rations. They were the only ones allowed to take out the Lane’s meager rations. Even after a few men had their skulls broken for trying to steal food off the cart, people continued to try to take from it. But as they got hungrier, they became too weak to put up a fight. Nathaniel was horrified to see the hollow-faced children, all skin and bones, while the soldiers who guarded the food stores stood by, healthy and fit.

Almost no one in the city was lucky enough to have their own supplier bringing in grain or oil. Anyone who kept private gardens saw them raided, but at least fish was relatively plentiful. Some game could be gotten from the woods surrounding Glenbard, but the duke saw to it that only those with certain permissions were allowed to hunt. Anyone without his written consent was flogged near the boar fountain in the market area. Any ships that came in were logged by the new harbor master, one of the duke’s cronies.

Sera, through trade with the prince, sent two ships laden with food to Glenbard. Nathaniel had rushed to the docks to see it unloaded. Sera had a bountiful year and was being generous with those who hadn’t, but the duke saw to it that every bit of the food from Sera was locked away in the castle. The food could save the people from a hungry winter, but because the duke planned a spring offensive, no one was allowed to touch it. Nathaniel bristled at the thought.

There’s nothing to be done for it, Captain, Nathaniel’s friend and the official Rogue’s Lane desk clerk, Jeffrey said one night when Nathaniel returned with the cart. Maybe you should petition His Grace again.

To what end, Jeffrey? Nathaniel took off his cloak and slung it over his arm. "He has ignored both petitions I’ve sent already. I told him the food from Sera, no matter that they’re our

‘enemies’, he added sarcastically, could save the city. He replied that if I bothered him again with my treasonous ideals, he would throw me into Redbank Prison for my troubles."

Maybe you and the other captains ought to approach him together?

Captain Erickson is firmly in the duke’s pocket. Nathaniel shook his head in disgust. At one time, he thought Erickson was with him; that together they could stamp out corruption and make a more peaceful city. But as it turned out, the captain of Serenity Place was not immune to bribes, and for the honor of arresting Marcus he was willing to let the law be doctored. Captain Vimes of Seafarer’s Way is a useless drunk who says the sailors are well fed from all the fish they haul in. Yuli of the Merchant’s District might step forward, but only if he is certain it is a fight we can win and not be thrown into prison for. Brach on Golden Road is with me, but only two against a duke, and with no magistrates to back us anymore? It is not exactly a fight we can win.

Jeffrey sighed. He looked tired and spent. He had always been such an energetic man, and Nathaniel hated to see him wasting away. They say King Marcus used to have a hidden store tucked away. The clerk licked his lips at the thought.

Already raided by Erickson’s men, and who knows what they did with it.

Nathaniel patted Jeffrey on the shoulder and went to his office. In the early morning hours, he helped Thom sneak out under the cover of darkness. The thief wanted to feel around the city and see if anyone planned to take Marcus’s seat of power, and if so, if they would protect the people of Rogue’s Lane. Nathaniel couldn’t afford to have someone step up who wouldn’t quell the uneasiness of the Lane.

About an hour passed before Thom burst into the office, Jeffrey hot on his heels. I told the knave he was a wanted man and we was bound by law to arrest him! Jeffrey held Thom with a leather tie they used to secure prisoners. Thom looked wild eyed, but not from fear of Jeffrey arresting him.

Did anyone else see him, Jeffrey? Nathaniel asked, pushing aside his paperwork.

No. I was alone when he came barreling in.

Close the door, Jeffrey. Nathaniel hoped he could trust the clerk. Jeffrey did as he was told and leaned up against it, waiting confidently for his captain to issue the order for an arrest. Thom is under my protection and has been for some time.

Jeffrey straightened up. You puttin’ him up as king?

Trying to, Nathaniel said. He wanted Thom to step up, but knew it wasn’t happening.

Good, Jeffrey snapped. Here’s a man with a good head on solid shoulders. I’d have hated to arrest him. He untied the leather from Thom’s wrists.

And I’d hate to be arrested, but I come with important news, Thom remarked.

Of course, please, tell me what you learned today. Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, waiting for the worst.

I found a usurper, a young woman named Kara. She’s unremarkable in most aspects, but she strolled into the Emerald Tavern, proclaimed herself Queen of the Thieves, and dared anyone to challenge her.

Did anyone? Nathaniel asked quietly.

Their throats are slit and the night patrolmen will find them in the boar’s fountain in the market. She found two drunken lackeys to do her bidding. Thom frowned. I followed her after she left the Emerald. She went out alone, and didn’t even seem concerned that someone might do her in. I followed her all the way to the castle, where she disappeared over the wall and I dared not follow. Last time a thief did that, she witnessed a murder. Word is spreading fast about this so called ‘queen’. I went around to those who were always loyal to Marcus to see where their heads were at. Some have decided to just ‘retire’ from the Guild altogether, but others say they’ll throw in with her in the hopes she’ll see them through this winter.

What do you think of her, Thom?

Don’t trust her, and don’t plan to engage with her. You, captain, have always been an easy man to read. At this, Jeffrey snorted. Thom smiled a little. It’s easy to tell when you hate someone, and mark my words, Captain…you’ll hate this Kara.

~*~*~

The next morning, Nathaniel found Thom’s ominous words to be true. A Rogue’s Lane guard, one who was often among the thieves, was found outside the guard house with his throat slit. The gracious new Queen of Thieves left a note pinned to the man’s jerkin, simply stating that the guard was no longer needed on the Lane.

Nathaniel tried to make a plea to the duke, but found the door shut unceremoniously in his face. The duke had been so fastidious in eradicating others who sought Marcus’s title, yet this woman was allowed to stay. The captain wondered at this, but he also wondered why she would have cause to sneak onto the castle grounds where the duke lived.

Two

The storms on the sea nearly capsized the ship that transported Marcus from Glenbard to the Nareroc Islands. The prisoners bound for hard labor on the islands were given stale bread and dirty water, but Marcus found it hard to keep even that down. Two weeks passed and Marcus would have kissed the sand when he stepped off the ship, but his guards pushed him on. He felt like half the man he was before departing from Glenbard.

He looked as haggard as he felt. His head was shaved to discourage lice and his cheeks were sunken from hunger. He felt too weak to move, but somehow he mustered the strength. The King of Thieves was thrown into a large cell with inmates from elsewhere in Cesernan who had been found guilty of some infraction or another and were sentenced to hard labor.

The cell he was thrown into stank, and the heat of the islands penetrated the stone walls, making the air stuffy and nearly unbreathable. In Glenbard it was already cold as winter settled over the city, but here there was no winter. It was blazing hot and Marcus sweated through the gray linen tunic and trousers he was forced to wear. Everyone else did the same.

You’ll stay here until the governor’s deputy finds fitting work, a guard explained to the inmates. Until then, make no trouble and no trouble’ll find you.

Marcus looked around. There were about fifty prisoners locked in the giant cell. A handful were women, their heads shaved the same as him. The women were mostly hard faced battle axes and they stuck together. That was good. They could protect each other from the more lecherous inmates.

Marcus? a tall, burly woman shouted from the group. Gods, the bastards have you too?

Marcus instantly recognized her as Big Sal, a woman who beat her husband and children and assaulted one of Captain Moore’s men. Marcus always thought she needed something to work out her considerable anger; he just wished he wasn’t here suffering alongside her.

The fiends got the King of Thieves! What madness is Glenbard falling to that a loving mother and wife like me and a grand protector like Marcus are thrown in here?

At the mention of Marcus’s name, a huddled figure in the corner looked up. She, if a woman she could be named, sat shaking and muttering to herself. Marcus stepped closer, trying to get a decent look. Like everyone else, this one’s hair had been shaved off. Small gouges, red and scabbed over, decorated her scalp. She locked eyes with Marcus, unfolded herself from her ball of limbs, and got unsteadily to her feet. The woman was small, and with no hair left she could almost pass for a boy. Her eyes were a striking shade of gray.

Grace? Marcus didn’t know what to do.

Long had he wondered what he would do when confronted with Grace again. He raged at her betrayal of their oath, and even thought it would be beneficial to have someone sneak into Arganis and dispose of her. But he never could order it done. Grace was a good woman who lived by her own brand of justice. They were friends once, and in that time she had saved his life. Seeing her, broken and crazed, he had no idea how to react or what to do.

Grace made the decision for him when she strode confidently across the cell. People cleared away from her and she never stopped quietly muttering to herself. She stopped before Marcus, her lips moving, with unintelligible words streaming out. She reached up and grabbed him by the ears, forcing his head down.

Around them, people yelled that she’d infect Marcus with her madness. There was a great commotion, but Marcus heard Grace, her breath tickling his ears as she spoke.

They leave me alone because they think I’m mad. It was safer this way, she whispered. I am glad to see you.

Marcus felt her lips graze his temple. She released his ears and smiled briefly, then turned on her heel and strode away, muttering louder. She returned to her corner and resumed shaking.

~*~*~

Grace had tried to reach her family. She saw the castle in Arganis burning, but King Frederick’s men seized her before she could get to her family and brought her before the king. She assumed he would pronounce her an enemy of the crown and have her executed on the spot.

Instead, he offered her a job.

I am in need of those with stealth and skill. Since you outwitted my assistant, I feel you would do well in her place. He was referring to his assassin Kara; a talented young woman whom Grace had thwarted. I see that you take to the folk hero the ‘Death Dealer’ as many other would-be vigilantes across the kingdom do. It is a good cover, I think. He smiled like a wolf who had found its way into a flock of sheep.

Grace was glad he thought her black garb and executioner’s hood was only play-acting on her part. She didn’t want him knowing it was she who had originally brought life to the Death Dealer. He had taken her beloved Death Dealer, her rock in dark times, and perverted it, making the black dressed figure with the hood a thing of nightmares.

What say you, Miss Hilren? the king probed. I can forgive your transgressions of the past. I can forgive that you mocked my tournament by masquerading as your cousin, and that you thwarted my Dealer and rescued the traitor, Prince Drake, and his cohorts. Just agree to be my loyal servant.

I am no assassin, she responded. Kill me as an example if you like, but I make no vows to wicked kings.

Frederick slapped her and ordered her taken away, but the king came to see her once more in her little room next to the kitchens. Again he offered, and again she refused.

Perhaps some time doing hard labor on Nareroc will change your mind. And that was it. The king wanted her skill. Kara must have been undefeated in battle for Frederick to want Grace in his employ.

Her entire life, Grace was told the king hated to see women outside their appointed roles. She wondered if he just thought noblewomen belonged in certain places, and only fallen or common women were actually useful outside the home.

Frederick had Grace hauled onto a transport ship bound for the islands. As she boarded the vessel, her hair was shorn and she was chained to a few others. Some were Arganis guards, but many were men she didn’t know. Only one other woman was present. She was tall and bulky, built like a barrel. Her name was Celia, and she was chained by the ankle on Grace’s left side. She threatened anyone who looked at them. Some men within their reach tried to take liberties despite their confined quarters. Grace broke one man’s nose with her elbow and Celia broke another’s thumb.

The journey was rough on her stomach. Grace, like many of the others, vomited into a bucket that was passed throughout the ship. Eventually Celia began vomiting blood, and one morning she was nothing but a rigid hulk lying next to Grace. It was then, without the companionship and protection of another woman, that Grace began to act mad.

Some of the Arganis guards whispered that Grace’s mother was mad and she must have caught the illness. Grace didn’t know if they spread the rumors because they were trying to protect her from unwanted, violent advances, or if they actually believed she’d been infected by Lady Deidre’s mental illness. It didn’t matter. She muttered to herself, she shook, and occasionally she talked loudly to a man named Grayson as though someone by that name sat next to her.

Grace might have despaired, but she felt a drive within her, a need to find a way back. The goddess Diggery frequented her dreams. Grace didn’t know what had become of her family or friends in Arganis, and Diggery never revealed their whereabouts to her. At times Grace was angry and threw things at her, screaming and cursing. Other times Grace sat quietly on a dark woodland path in her dreams and let the goddess sit beside her. Grace used her waking hours to quietly blame the goddess for her predicament. Anyone who said being a gods’ chosen was a blessing had never experienced the abject