Keith Baker - Son of Khyber

We cannot allow that, Steel whispered. His voice was clear in Thorn’s mind even over the cheering crowd.

“Tomorrow we will destroy a forgehold of House Cannith. Each of you will have a role to play. Some will join me on the assault itself. Others will engage in acts across the city that will help to distract the house from our efforts. And the remainder will stay here, ready to defend, to tend to the injured, or to evacuate should the need arise. But make no mistake. As of this moment, you are soldiers. The War of the Mark begins anew. Together, we shall avenge every child of Khyber unjustly slain, and save Khorvaire itself from its deadliest foe!”

Daine raised his sword as he spoke, and his mark burned with brilliant light. The crowd roared and shouted, brandishing weapons and stomping their feet. Thorn rose with them, cheering with the crowd. But it was a show for those around her. Behind the mask, her thoughts were racing. And Steel’s whispers confirmed her fears.

He has to die, Steel said. Tonight.

The Undercity Lharvion 20, 999 YK

Many of the Tarkanans remained in the common room after the speech, drinking and discussing the challenges the morrow would bring. Others had retired to the barracks, choosing to rest for the exertions that lay ahead. Thorn wandered the halls until she found a quiet corner. Drawing Steel, she crouched on the balls of her feet, her back set against the wall. There was a chance someone might come this way, but she wasn’t worried. When she thought back to Zae and her rats, it seemed unlikely that anyone would question a new girl muttering to her dagger.

“So why does he have to die?”

Don’t start this again. Tomorrow they plan to destroy a Cannith forgehold. Aside from the lives that would be lost in such an action, House Cannith is a strategic partner of our nation.

“And Karrnath, and Thrane, and Aundair…”

All the more reason to prevent this attack. The goods produced locally are those most likely to reach Brelish markets. Suppose that Karrnath launches an attack against us. Even if we haven’t alienated the house, if their production facilities within Breland have been destroyed, Karrnath will likely receive the greater share of their goods.

“So Daine was right,” Thorn said.

About what?

“‘The kings of this land are so afraid of each other that they dare not challenge the true threat.’”

Since when did House Cannith become a threat?

“The moment it started producing human warforged.”

I’m still unconvinced that what you saw was what it appeared to be. And you are not one of these people. They are murderers.

“And I’m not? Barely a day has passed since I killed a Deneith Sentinel. By touching him, let me remind you. He said I deserved to die for my tainted flesh, and he almost killed me. So he wasn’t my enemy?”

He was fooled by Fileon and the false mark you wear on your face-

“And would have killed me because of it.”

He was fooled by your mark. He was indeed your enemy. And perhaps Merrix is as well. But House Deneith is not. House Cannith is not. You are an agent of Breland, Lantern Thorn. The parameters of this mission have always been clear. Learn what House Tarkanan is planning. Identify their new leader. And if necessary, eliminate him. It has become necessary. It’s not simply a question of stopping tomorrow’s attack. For years House Tarkanan has been content to play a minor role in the criminal underworld. This Son of Khyber has turned them into soldiers. If he is removed, the will to fight may die with him. Will you fulfill your duty?

Thorn sighed. As much as she hated it, he was right. This was her mission. “Yes.”

Your evaluation?

“I’ll have to act alone. I’m sure I could get away from here. But they’ve got a strong defensive position at the main gate, and there’s an evacuation plan in place. As you say, the primary goal has to be to kill Daine, and a frontal assault would surely give him time to escape.”

Agreed. And truth be told, I don’t entirely trust the commanding officer of the Sharn Dark Lanterns. You have a plan?

“I believe I do,” Thorn said. “But before I get started… what about what he said? Returning from the dead? Is it possible?”

It seems unlikely. There are a few cults that claim that the Keeper saves the souls of heroes from Dolurrh so they may be returned when they are needed. But there’s no documented evidence of it ever happening. Although…

“Yes?”

There was a Daine who fought for Deneith in the War of the Mark, a master swordsman and commander of troops. But the accounts of the battles say that he was killed by Halas Tarkanan.

Thorn frowned. “Whose records?”

Almost all accounts of the War of the Mark were recorded by scribes of House Sivis.

“Who surely wouldn’t have any interest in skewing the story to avoid any mention of an officer developing an aberrant dragonmark and shifting sides.”

There was a pause as Steel considered this. I see your point. Nonetheless, I suspect it’s just a story he’s using to influence his troops.

“Good. Because if he has been pulled back to this world after being dead for fifteen hundred years and charged to change the course of history…”

Yes?

“I’d imagine history won’t be so pleased when I spoil its plans.”

Perhaps he has been chosen to change the course of history, and you’ve been chosen to change it back.

Thorn shook her head. “I hate prophecies.” She stood and spun Steel in one hand. “Let’s see if we can cut the threads of fate.”

Two guards stood on duty when Thorn finally made her way to Daine’s chambers. She did her best to ignore them, fixing her eyes on the hallway ahead, and as she’d hoped, the two sentinels barely acknowledged her as she walked between them.

Well done, Steel whispered. The dagger was in her hand, but thanks to the glamer she’d woven, he appeared to be a bone throwing wheel. Thorn’s skin was pitch-black, while her blackened mithral vambraces now appeared to be made of opalescent chitin. The guards didn’t see a half-elf recruit. As far as they could tell, she was Xu’sasar, the one person always allowed in Daine’s personal quarters.

It was a calculated risk. Odds were good that the dark elf was already down below. But even if the guards had seen her pass earlier, Thorn was trusting that they wouldn’t question the drow. Given the talent for stealth Xu’sasar had displayed when dealing with Thorn, she hoped that the guards would just think that they’d somehow failed to notice when Xu had come up from below. Thorn focused on mimicking Xu’sasar’s graceful gait. Her spell might give her the appearance of the dark elf, but it was a challenge to match her unusual movements.

She was carrying the sack she’d been given up on the surface-the bag she’d used to transport Fileon’s corpse and the Cannith child down to Khyber’s Gate. The plan was simple enough. Kill Daine, Xu’sasar, and anyone else she found below, then take the body of the dark elf with her. Once clear, drop the disguise and dispose of the body, leaving the “escaped” dark elf to take the blame for the murder.

No torches lit the hall below, and Thorn’s vision shifted into the gray tones of darkvision. She moved as quietly as she could, sliding slowly along the edge of the wall. What surprised her was just how far the passage went. She’d assumed that the commander’s quarters would lie directly below the rest of the fortress. Instead, the tunnel led away from the halls above. Veins of smooth basalt ran through the rougher stone. The passage had been carved through the rock itself. But for what end? Why push away from the rest of the base?