A Brother's Price

in charge all bowed and said ‘yes, madam’ to them.”
    Eldest nodded. “As Corelle said, nothing flashy but good-quality riding clothes, both about five foot seven, maybe about fourteen stones. Same build, same walk, like they were sisters. They rode up on bloodstock, a trim bay mare with four white socks, and a black mare.”
    “They wore executioner’s hoods,” Corelle added. “One in black silk and the other in red.”
    “They were still adjusting the hoods, so they must have pulled them on just as they rode up, before we noticed them,” Eldest said. “They came in snapping orders, not like they were scared, just in a hurry. At first I didn’t see the rhyme and reason to what they were doing.” Eldest frowned, apparently angry at her own lack of understanding. “And then you were nearly on the street and we were hemmed in. We backed out quietly as we could, but they spotted us and we exchanged fire.”
    Ren offered up a prayer of thanks that neither one of them had been killed.
    “I hit the one with the red hood,” Corelle boasted. “Grandmas told us to always aim for the commanders— you do more damage per bullet that way. I think I nailed her fairly good.”‘
    “Remind me to keep you on our side.” Raven said dryly.
    Ren leaned outside and called one of the troops to her. “Spread the word. One of the wounded or dead thieves was wearing a red executioner’s hood. I want her found.”
    The soldier saluted and hurried off. The Whistlers continued recounting their adventure, in greater detail. They had found the doors all guarded, but found a broken, unguarded window on the second story. They had moved quietly to a place where they could view the thieves. When the gentry arrived, the action shifted to in front of the doors, out of sight from their original position.
    Telling Corelle to stay put, Eldest had worked around to where she could see them.
    “Even then, there was a wagon blocking my view of the cannons themselves, or I would have figged to their plans immediately. When I heard them discussing the grapeshot, I realized it was a trap.” Eldest’s eyes went winter cold. “We’d given you our word not to take them on single-handed, or I would have tried to nail them. It felt wrong to just cut and run.”
    Corelle took over the explanation. “They spotted Eldest and started to shoot. I laid down some cover for her, taking out one of the commanders to throw them into confusion. After she was clear, I made myself scarce.”
    Eldest put out a hand and squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “You did good.” She turned back to Ren. “I came across the rooftops to warn you. Highness. I wish we could have done more.”
    “You saved myself and a goodly number of my women.” Ren said. “Thank you both.”
    A soldier appeared at the door with the news that the dead red-hooded thief had been found.
    The woman wasn’t lying where she had been hit. A trail of heel marks and blood showed where she had been dragged to a back corner of the mill, beside a trapdoor. The red silk executioner’s hood had been peeled back, revealing a smashed pulp of flesh and bone framed by short gold curls. A fist-sized hole had been punched through her chest, leaving her fine clothes a soggy red mass of cloth. Her silk-lined pockets were turned inside out, coins littering the ground like bright tears.
    Eldest shifted the woman onto her side, grunting at the deadweight. A small neat hole marked the entrance of the bullet that had caused the massive chest wound. “She was shot in the back, then in the face.”
    “I hit her in the back,” Corelle said, and then added defensively, “She was facing away from me, shooting at Eldest.”
    “You did right,” Raven murmured.
    “She was shot in the face so she couldn’t be recognized,” Ren growled. “Her sister searched her pockets, left the money, but took anything that would reveal her identity.”
    Eldest examined the trapdoor, then, satisfied that it was safe, flipped it up. A short drop into gurgling darkness. “Access to the river.”
    “So it’s a dead end,” Corelle grumbled.
    “Well, depends.” Eldest shrugged. “A dead sister is something. We hurt them, if nothing else.” Eldest glanced at Ren. “How long do you think a noble family could disguise the fact they’re down by one?”
    “Forever,” Ren muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Most families have shipping interests. They could say their missing sister is taking a prolonged