David Dalglish - A Dance Of Death

“Because Taras Keenan was a kind, worthy heir to his father’s legacy, and that Wraith split him into pieces and left his newborn child sobbing amid the gore. I brought you here for vengeance.”

“And that is all you see of me, then, a weapon at your disposal?”

“Of course,” she said. “Is that not what you are? Dezrel’s greatest killer?”

He settled back down on the bench, shifting so his bad shoulder would be comfortable. He thought of the awesome skill the Wraith had displayed in their fight. How easily he’d won.

“I don’t know anymore,” he whispered.

What in Karak’s name is happening to my city? wondered Ingram as he took his seat in the expansive meeting hall of his mansion and waited for the rest to arrive. Egar sat beside him, with Yor purposefully misled to the time so he’d come late.

“Laurie’s resistance to your men sets a dangerous precedent,” said Egar as he sampled from a bowl of fruits set between him and Ingram by one of the servants.

“Yeah, well he’s dead now,” said Ingram. “Good to know at least one of the gods has a sense of justice.”

“There’s still the matter of his wife, and if they’re hiding the Watcher. If the masses start thinking you aren’t in control…”

“Enough,” Ingram said, waving his hand. “I’ve another round of hangings coming tonight, all to goad that bastard out. Never had such a wonderful excuse to clear my dungeons, either. All those bodies swinging will make sure the people know who runs this city.”

“But still, you should press Madelyn to turn them over, or at the least allow an inspection of her mansion. It’s shameful enough the Watcher escaped your dungeons, let alone with the Wraith openly mocking you.”

“Enough!” Ingram roared. “Do you think I’m daft? Traitors house elves, mercenaries are accepting coin to fight against me, a vigilante openly defies my rule, and it seems every night some new lord or lady dies in their bed. Worst part is, I can’t send my damn soldiers after any of them. Too many cowards, all. At least the elves have the courtesy to admit they’re the ones killing our people who enter their cursed woods.”

He took a drink to calm himself. When he drained it, he held it out for a servant to refill. As he did, the first of their guests arrived, and it was not who he expected.

“Lady Madelyn,” Ingram said, standing. “You surprise me.”

Madelyn lowered her head in greeting. She wore dark mourning clothes, but her face was uncovered, and even sported a hint of rouge. Her long ponytail was wrapped about her neck, as if it were a collection of necklaces. Escorting her was a large mercenary, enormously muscled and with a greatsword on his back.

“There will be time to grieve, but not now,” she said, taking a seat. The mercenary remained standing behind her.

“I’d prefer all weapons be left outside,” Egar said, raising an eyebrow.

“Given recent events, I go nowhere unless Torgar is with me to keep me safe.”

Ingram let it drop, for he had far more pressing things to discuss.

“I’m more surprised you would come given your…aggressive stance toward my investigation,” he said, taking his seat.

“A regrettable event, I assure you. Indeed, that is one reason why I must speak with you. The Watcher did come seeking succor, but he is with us no longer. Alyssa Gemcroft is the one who brought him from Veldaren, and it was her mercenary who freed him from your prison.”

“Is that so?” Ingram asked, feeling his heart race. A leader of the Trifect blatantly helping a wanted criminal? Could he have any better excuse to take those egotistical bastards down a peg? “Then you must hand her over at once.”

“I would, but she escaped my guards, and I do not know…”

“Milord, Laryssa and her escort,” a servant announced at the door moments before the elves entered. This time neither Egar nor Ingram stood, for they both had tired of treating the elves with such dignity. Only Madelyn rose, and only just.

“Welcome,” Ingram said, his voice cold. “We are pleased to once again be in your company.”

“As are we yours,” Laryssa said, no doubt lying right back. They took seats, with the ambassador Graeven on her left, Sildur on her right. Ingram sort of liked Graeven. That elf seemed to see reason at times. Sildur, however, looked ready for war with every word he spoke, with only Laryssa keeping him in check. Behind them stood two bodyguards, ornate daggers in their belts. Ingram tried to shove the business with the Watcher out of his mind. After the meeting was done, he could question Madelyn more about Alyssa’s involvement, as well as where they might have gone.

The elves had hardly settled in before Ulrich arrived representing the Merchant Lords, only this time he was accompanied by his brother, which was mildly surprising. The two bowed as a servant announced their presence, then took a seat opposite the elves at the long table. Ingram offered them greetings just as cold as he had the elves. The elves would one day go home, and leave his city in peace. The same could not be said for the Blackwater brothers.

“Do you speak for your husband?” Laryssa asked, noticing Madelyn.

“My husband is dead,” she said. “I speak for myself.”

“My apologies,” Laryssa said. “I am sad to hear.”

“As are we,” Ulrich said, butting in as Yor finally arrived, taking a seat at Ingram’s left. “Such a true shame, but I am glad to see you remain strong.”

Ingram ignored the clear mockery in the words. They had everyone assembled but for Alyssa, and given what Madelyn said, he doubted she would be making an appearance for the rest of the discussions.

“Thank you for coming, all of you,” Ingram said, standing. The rest fell silent. “To begin, I’d like to share grim news I’ve received by messenger early this morning. Two days ago, a group of twenty-three loggers from the village of Redgrove were assaulted, their bodies filled with arrows and dumped outside the village grounds. Twenty-three. I hope all of you understand my rage at such an action.”

“We have made it clear to all villagers what risks they take setting foot in our lands,” Sildur said, interrupting the ambassador, who had begun to apologize. “If what you say is true, then those humans have no one but themselves to blame.”

“Yes, only themselves to blame for the arrows stuck in their sides, which I’m sure shot all on their own,” Egar said with a dramatic rolling of his eyes. “That lumber is the only means to their survival, after all, so without it they may as well take their own lives.”

“You act as if we are butchers,” Graeven said. “We are a sovereign nation, and may seal our borders. You humans have done this before.”

“Only in times of war,” Yor said, his words casting a dark pall across the table.

“We have not come here for that reason,” Laryssa said, straightening in her seat. “We wish to avoid such a conflict, otherwise we would have remained in Quellassar. It is not our goal to cause strife, nor unrest within your city.”

“We’ll see what unrest you cause when word of those twenty-three loggers hits the streets,” Egar muttered. Before any could continue, Ulrich burst into laughter, so absurd and out of place everyone stopped to stare.

“Not your goal to cause unrest?” Ulrich asked, a huge grin across his face. “My, my, that sounds amusing, especially with you protecting a wanted murderer.”

Every elf froze as if they’d been struck. Ingram’s jaw dropped, and it took a moment before he could compose himself.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Explain yourself.”

“Saw it with my own eyes,” Ulrich said, leaning back in his chair, looking incredibly smug. “That Watcher you were going to hang? He and Alyssa came to the elves, and it sure looked like they were welcome guests.”