David Dalglish - A Dance Of Death

Yor’s mouth dropped open, and his confusion only worsened when Egar drew his sword. Before another word could pass his lips, the sword thrust through his throat. His body convulsed, and blood splashed across them both, dripping down to stain the floor. A twist, and Egar pulled the blade free, wiping the edge clean with a cloth from his pocket.

Ingram watched it all with a baffled look on his face.

“Have you lost your damn mind?” he asked, still in shock.

“I told you he was a traitor. What possible proof could be stronger than him willingly handing the city over to the merchants without a single drop of blood spilled?”

Ingram glanced at the corpse, then nodded.

“You’re right. How many men do you have with you?”

“About a hundred trained soldiers.”

“Bring them here.” Ingram hurried toward the door, and he began calling out for the captain of his guard.

“When they land their boats, we’ll be ready,” he said, glancing back at Egar. “I want every person at our disposal here, at the mansion. I don’t care how many ruffians they’ve given a sword. They’ll break against our walls.”

“And the rest of the city?”

Ingram shrugged.

“It can burn for all I care. When they’ve tried, and failed, to take over, we’ll come storming out. We’ll seize their boats and hang every last Merchant Lord from their ankles. They’ve pretended at power for too long. With your help, we’ll take it all back.”

“Of course,” said Lord Egar, bowing low. “I’ll begin immediately.”

Haern sat restless in the single room home Graeven had brought them to, nestled into a quiet section of Angelport against one of the inner walls.

“I did not think you would provide us a place to stay,” the elf had told Alyssa as they sneaked inside during the cover of night. “I had a human on friendly terms with us procure it for our use. When you agreed to house us, I felt it best to keep this place just in case something went wrong.”

“Something did,” had been Alyssa’s only response.

The windows were covered with curtains, leaving the interior dark despite the midday sun. They’d had little to eat, just a small loaf of bread Haern had purchased at the market. None of them seemed to have any real appetites.

“It’s painful to sit and just wait,” Zusa said from her position sprawled out across the only bed. Alyssa sat at the foot of it, looking very tired. She wore a fine dress of elven make, a shimmering silver to replace her dirty, worn clothing from the dungeon.

“What else is there to do?” she asked. “Ingram would imprison me, the merchants would kill me, and the elves would send me off for a mockery of a trial and then execution. We’ll wait and see what Graeven can figure out.”

“I don’t like relying on others for your survival,” Haern said, peering out the window to the dull street. “We should get you out of Angelport, tonight.”

“Graeven said they’d track us.”

Haern shrugged.

“I’m scared of no elf, and I doubt Zusa is either. We’re about the best bodyguards you can have. With just the three of us, we should make it back unnoticed.”

Alyssa lay down on the bed, Zusa sliding over to make room. With her hand across her eyes, Alyssa sighed.

“I know. You’re right. I need to be back in Veldaren, where I can deal with Madelyn appropriately. I miss my little boy, too. Let’s at least wait for Graeven. If he can get the rest of his kind to let us be, for even a few days, we should escape with little difficulty.”

Haern shrugged.

“If you insist.”

He stood and reached for the door.

“Where are you going?” Zusa asked.

“Out.”

He kept his sabers hidden with his cloak, his head low and his hood removed so he appeared like every other poor, tired worker of the city. At first, Haern didn’t know where he wandered, just let his instincts guide him. At one point, he’d promised the Wraith he’d investigate the city to learn its secrets, but there was nothing particularly striking or secretive about it. Everyone wanted power. Everyone wanted everyone else crushed underneath their heel. Even Alyssa wasn’t completely innocent, though her intentions seemed more noble than the norm with the wretched city.

To his surprise, when he stirred from his thoughts, he found himself staring up at the meager temple to Ashhur. His anger came and went, and despite himself, he entered. Logan was at the door, and he started to greet him until he saw Haern’s face. His skin paled, and he dropped the cloth he’d been using to clean the floor.

Haern held a finger to his lips.

“Not a word,” he said. “Go to Nole’s room, lock the door, and do not leave for an hour. Understood?”

The young man swallowed, and he nodded rapidly.

“Good.”

Logan scurried toward the back of the temple, with Haern following. Past the benches, Nole knelt, his head bowed in prayer at the altar. Normally interrupting such a private act would have bothered him, but Haern had no patience for the man’s piety, not this time. As Logan went rushing past, Haern hopped onto the bench beside Nole and leaned his weight on his heels. At the noise, the priest opened his eyes and looked up. His reaction was hardly any better than Logan’s.

“You,” he said, startling bad enough he fell to his rear. “Please, no, don’t kill me.”

Haern felt as if ice flowed in his blood, but at the same time, he felt so tired, so drained, that he could not muster the anger he thought the man deserved.

“Tell me,” he said instead. “Do you sleep well at night?”

Nole was breathing heavily through his nose, and he glanced around as if unsure whether or not the question was a trick.

“No,” he admitted. “Not since…you know.”

“You betrayed us?”

Nole swallowed.

“Yes.”

Haern stared at him, as if trying to see through the robes, the fear, and his own anger, to the man underneath it all.

“Why?” he asked. “We trusted you.”

“Logan told me of the bounty,” Nole said, sighing. “I thought if I sold those acres, I could rebuild this temple into something magnificent. Something people would feel proud to enter. And there you were, supposed criminals; all I had to do was turn you in.”

“You’d rebuild your temple with blood money?”

“Don’t you understand? Look around. This place is empty, broken. Every day I pray to Ashhur, yet all I feel is failure. The weight of a whole city lay upon me, and for once, just once, it seemed like I saw a way through. I did it for the souls of thousands, Haern! What does one little whispered word to a guard matter when compared to eternity?”

Haern’s fists clenched.

“You’d break your trust, and profane Ashhur’s ideals, all to serve him?”

“Are you any better? I’ve learned of you, heard the stories spoken since you came down. You keep the thieves in line in Veldaren. You kill to prevent killing. Whose blood is on my hands? Whose lives did I end? Yet I see it in your eyes, you are ready to draw that blade and cut my throat.”

Haern did feel that urge, but instead he shook his head.

“This city deserves better than you.”

Nole chuckled.

“In that, we are in agreement.”

As Haern headed for the door he stopped, and turned back to the priest.

“Did Ingram give you your acres of land?”

Nole shook his head as he slowly rose to his feet.

“Have you brought Veldaren any peace? Or does death and killing still plague its nights?”

Haern wished he had a better answer, but instead thought of his dead, nameless victim he’d given to the gravekeeper.

“No.”

“We’re not men meant to sleep well through the night,” Nole said. “For whatever it is worth, I wish I could take it back, and that you’d forgive my moment of pride. Even if I could haul in the rarest marble, and hang the finest silks from the ceiling, it’d still be just me, preaching to a small few in my weakness.”