David Dalglish - A Dance of Ghosts

“So, what brings you here?” Victor asked, his own drink going untouched.

“Insanity,” Antonil said, thudding his glass back down onto the wooden table. “Insanity brings me here. Insanity in my king, insanity in his advisors, insanity in the streets, the guilds, everywhere. The whole damn world’s gone insane.”

“Since entering Veldaren, I’ve often wondered if I’m the only sane person left,” Victor said, grinning.

“That, or the only one insane enough to fight against the way the world is moving,” Antonil said. “But in the end, it doesn’t matter.” He glanced over his shoulder, to the man guarding the door. “What I speak, no one but us must hear. Are we safe?”

Victor nodded.

“My men are loyal. Whatever you need to say, say it.”

Antonil took in a deep breath, drank a bit more from his glass, and then let it out.

“I’m here to commit treason, Victor.”

To his credit, Victor handled the news well enough.

“Go on,” he said.

“Muzien and his Sun Guild have gotten to the king, and he’s given them complete immunity in all things. My guards aren’t to touch them, aren’t even to give them strange looks no matter what crimes they commit. I swear, this whole city’s rotting beneath me, and no matter how hard I try, the wood keeps peeling, the stones keep cracking. I won’t let this happen. I won’t sit back and watch my beloved city break. Not without a fight.”

Victor pushed aside his alcohol and leaned forward on his elbows.

“What are you telling me?” he asked. There was no denying the eagerness in his voice, in the way his eyes shone.

“I can’t fight Muzien, not openly,” he said. “But I have men who are loyal, and access to the king’s armory. If you’ll stand against him, I will ensure you have soldiers and weapons for them to wield. Our nation has not fought a war in over a decade, but I feel this is the closest we will be in my lifetime. I have no intention of losing.”

Antonil stood.

“You marched into this city proclaiming to cast out the men hiding in the shadows. By Karak, you even swore to remove the shadows themselves. Well, the city’s only darkened, Victor, and I need all the help I can get. Will you accept? Will you put your neck on the line where I cannot?”

Victor pushed aside his own chair as he stood.

“You are a rope thrown to a drowning man,” he said. “Give me soldiers, and I will save our city. I swear it upon my life and the honor of my family.”

Antonil could hardly believe the words he was saying, but it felt good. Terrifying, but good.

“When do you need my men?” he asked.

Victor scratched at his chin as he thought, his eyes staring into nowhere.

“Not yet,” he said. “I’ll come to you when I am ready. There is one more ally we need, and with your promise, I feel I can at last win them to my side. We must be strong, and when we strike, it must be overwhelming. Right now, Muzien views us as ants, insignificant to his plans, and we must keep him thinking as much. By the time he realizes his error, I pray we’ll be hoisting his head on a pike over the walls of the castle.”

He offered his hand, and Antonil clasped it and shook.

“Good men like us,” Antonil said, “we are the only hope this city knows.”

“This city doesn’t want good men,” said Victor. “I’ve watched it chew up and spit out dozens of men who thought themselves good, who thought they might bring about change. We commit treason and plot death in the shadows. We’re no longer good, but we’re what this city needs.”

Harsh words, but Antonil could not deny them.

“May it be enough,” he said, and with a salute, he exited the tavern and made his way back to the castle, to inform the soldiers of the city that until further notice, the Sun Guild ruled the streets.

The hour was early when Zusa heard word of Victor’s arrival at their gates.

“I can send him away,” she told Alyssa, who was lounging in a warm bath beside her.

“He will only come with the same promises as before,” Alyssa said, eyelids closed and head tilted back so her long red hair was fully submerged. “Gods, I am tired of listening to it. I’m not sure there is a more stubborn man alive on the face of Dezrel.”

Zusa sat at the edge of the tub, dressed in her elaborate dark wrappings, and she drummed her fingers atop the hilt of one of her two daggers.

“I can make him stay away forever,” she said.

“He’s stubborn, not dangerous,” Alyssa said, and she laughed.

“I merely meant to frighten him.”

Alyssa turned her head to the side, and Zusa easily recognized it as the equivalent of a glare ever since her mistress lost her eyes.

“Is that so?” Alyssa asked.

Zusa scratched at her neck.

“Maybe?” she said. “He is rather annoying…”

Alyssa laughed again, and it warmed Zusa’s heart to see her do so. They were in an extravagant washroom, full of mirrors, white walls, and gold-tinted frames, and the air was heavy with the scent of lilac. Alyssa was nearly hidden by the steam, they’d heated the bath so hot, but it was one of the few things that could truly relax the lady in charge of the Gemcroft fortune.

The door cracked open, and a female servant stepped in and bowed with her hands behind her back.

“Milady,” she said, “Lord Victor refuses to leave the gates and insists I relay another message.”

“What is it?” Alyssa asked, her good humor replaced by annoyance.

“He says he must speak with you, and it is most urgent.”

“He always insists that is the case,” Zusa said.

The servant woman blushed.

“Yes,” she said, “but-but this time he said to tell you that he has spoken with Antonil Copernus, and that he has learned of matters most urgent to the well-being of this city … and of a potential ally.”

It was the clear the woman knew she was relaying information that was both private and dangerous, and she grew more nervous with every word. Alyssa let out a sigh, and at her nod, Zusa rose from her seat at the tub and gestured for the woman to go.

“Bring him, and put him somewhere he can wait,” Zusa said. “Alyssa must first dress appropriately for the meeting of a man of such … high regard.”

The servant curtsied again, then hurried out of the room. At the shutting of the door, Alyssa rose from the tub.

“My towel,” she said, holding her left arm out and waiting.

Zusa retrieved one from a cabinet, then sat patiently as Alyssa dried herself. She pondered over what Victor had come for this time, how it might change things.

“If Antonil has sworn to help Victor against the Sun Guild, it may only make matters worse,” she told Alyssa.

Alyssa pulled the towel from her body and wrapped it about her head. That done, she reached out and waited for Zusa to take her hand and guide her from the tub. From there, Zusa led her from the room into the adjacent bedroom, where atop the bed, the maidservants had already laid out her clothes for the day, a simple enough dress the color of grass. A younger girl waited patiently in the room to help, but Zusa dismissed her with a wave and began dressing Alyssa herself.

“Muzien’s left us alone,” Alyssa said, and she sounded troubled. “Compared to the other guilds, he’s almost … civilized.”

“You fool yourself if you think it will last,” Zusa said, lacing up the back of the dress. “We will be next, I assure you.”

“We don’t have to fight him,” Alyssa said, and Zusa’s deft fingers stopped their weaving.

“I fear I misheard you,” she said.

“No, you didn’t. We don’t need the Watcher’s truce. There was a time we merely endured the thief guilds, accepting their take as a part of doing business. Why not return to that? Muzien may seek the same. It was Thren who sought to unite them, to lift up the underworld as if it were a conquering army.”