The Fall of Ventaris by Neil McGarry, Daniel Ravipinto, Amy Houser

to take her along.
    “Even far outside the city I could see the fires up and down the hill, little lights in the fog. The gangs were out of the Narrows by the time I got there, rampaging across the city, so the Deeps were safe...or as safe as you could expect. There were more than a few folk on the city side of Broken Gate, and Shara and I traded our hams and grain for their tales and a bit of coin. And that’s when we heard about...well, you know.”
    “And you never tried to get into the city to see if it was true.”
    He flushed, dropping his gaze. “None of us knew what was going to happen! We knew the...” he lowered his voice, looking about uneasily, “...we knew your father was at the center of it, and we’d had no word from Lord Marcus in weeks. I had myself to think about, and the rest of the staff. We heard that the house had burned, that the master was dead and his children with him...what were we to do?”
    He looked so plaintive that she almost wished she had some sympathy, but it was not Ahmed’s father who had died. It was not Ahmed who’d been left alone in a burning house.
    He sighed. “We turned back to the Freehold as soon as we could, and nearly lamed the horses getting there. We knew with your father dead that the war was over, and that the winners might not be kind to the losers. So we decided it best to just disappear. Last I saw Shara she was headed south to the Duchies — she was Nerrish, still had family in Verge.” He sighed. “I crept back into the city, figuring I could lose myself in the crowd, and so I did. I moved from inn to inn and district to district, never staying in one place too long, listening for news. I thought I might get word to Savant Terence, but it never seemed safe...”
    That caught her attention; only high-ranking scholars were called savants . “Terence? Who’s that?”
    “Your father’s closest friend. You don’t remember him? He used to bring his daughter to visit the Freehold now and again. Darley, I think her name was.” He smiled faintly. “You two used to fight just about any time you were left alone. I remember one time you came running to me after you pushed Darley in the mud. Well, pushed wasn’t the right word; you dug a hole and filled it with mud, and then chased her into it. When she climbed out you booted her right back in. I told you Lord Kell would give you Ventaris’ own wrath, but when we brought you to him you just explained precisely why you had to kick her.”
    She searched her memories. “I think I remember a tall man in blue robes, but this Darley...no.” Some things about that time were so clear, but this story meant nothing to her.
    “He was as close to your father as anyone I can remember. A good bit older, though it always seemed to me that he deferred to Lord Marcus in everything. Later I heard he personally shut down the Freehold and wrapped up the affairs. Seemed we’d done the right thing, leaving, after all. The tenants were allowed to remain, but there was no more need for house staff.”
    “And it’s still there?”
    “The Freehold? As far as I know. I haven’t heard that anyone bought the place, and I would, given my position with the baron...” He trailed off suddenly, as if only now realizing what he was doing. He stepped away from her, no longer her father’s master of horse but the majordomo of House Eusbius. “The baron and Lady Agalia will be wondering where I am, and they don’t need to see me with you. Your father was a good man, and for his sake I’ll forget that I saw you today, but that’s as far as I’ll go. Since I left the Freehold I’ve known some hard times, and I owe Gallius more than I can say. He gave me a chance when few would and I’ll not have that taken from me. Not for you.”
    Duchess nodded. She knew about opportunities lost, and safety wiped away by the whim of chance. “You don’t have to worry,” she said. “I won’t bother you again.” Though even as she said the