David Dalglish - A Dance of Blades

“Does this have something to do with what Potts has been telling me about you hiring every mercenary able to lift a sword?”

“It does.”

Leon sighed and, shockingly enough, pushed his own plate away.

“Listen, you’re just a silly girl trapped in your position, so I’ll do my best to save you from this embarrassment. You can’t find them all, Alyssa. You’ll never win. You’d sooner drive out every flea from the southern district than bring the guilds down. Half those you’re paying will just sit in taverns and claim they killed a rogue or three before dinner. How will you know? How will you keep track? Every damn beggar you passed by on your way here might have been a Serpent, or a Spider, or a member of the Ash. Can you know for sure? Can you prove it? You’re throwing your money in the damn gutter. I’ve killed more thieves trying to sneak onto my grounds than I have actually going out and looking for them.”

She felt her neck reddening, but she pressed on anyway, his arrogance be damned.

“They want us to think that,” she said. “But it isn’t true. They act as if they’ll endure, but their organizations can crumble, their loyalties break. They threaten us with poison and razor wire, and they’ve convinced the city that they are the ones to fear, they are the vicious ones. It is our fault for believing the lie.”

A guarded look crossed Leon’s face as if realizing how far off his first read of her had been.

“What exactly are you planning?” he asked.

“We break into every building. We search every crack of every wall. I have many men skilled in interrogation, and the men we’ve hired are even better at it. We’ll find where they run, every time. These men have no pride, no honor. They’ll point us the right way until they run out of places to hide. Every guildleader will fall, as will their replacements. If they wear a cloak, they die, regardless of the color.”

Leon looked ready to explode.

“Are you out of your mind? We haven’t had that level of conflict since this started, not even during the Bloody Kensgold. You’ll get every single one of us killed, and all because of some…of some… bastard? ”

She stood and flung what was left of her cake into his face.

“Father was right,” she said as he wiped icing from his cheek. “Your cowardice is as big as your gut. I will not fear them anymore, and neither should you. Come the end of Nathaniel’s funeral, I will unleash my wrath upon the city that has sheltered the murderer of my son. Now if you would kindly request a servant to escort me to the door.”

He chewed on his lip a moment, his fat face blotched red. At last he clapped and did as she requested.

“Wait,” he said, just before she exited the room. “Just how many men have you hired?”

“Close to two thousand,” she said, and she felt a sense of victory at the way his jaw dropped. “As I said, Leon, I will destroy them. I will destroy everyone who dares try to stop me. Even the king. Even the Trifect itself.”

He muttered something, but she did not hear it. Still furious, she turned and followed the servant lady out, more than ever wanting to be home to plan with her mercenary captains. Hiding was no longer for her. It was time to act. Come the funeral, it was a lesson the whole city would learn.

*

A rthur looked about the room with total disgust. He’d worked with mercenaries before, but to invite them into his home? So disgraceful. They gathered in the dining hall, over twelve of them. They were the captains, the ones with at least a hundred men at their disposal. They chatted with one another, killing time until Alyssa returned. They were a motley bunch, wearing various combinations of armor, ribbons, and tunics to distinguish themselves. Arthur dared not imagine how much coin was flowing into their pockets for simply picking their teeth and eating Alyssa’s food.

“Not sure how much fun this’ll be,” said one, a bald man with a shaved head. “Proper fight is on a battlefield, not crashing into people’s homes and searching for rats.”

“Killing’s killing,” said another. “Since when you started getting picky?”

“I’ll take the money, but don’t mean I can’t want a nice open place to swing my ax.”

“Probably need that space, too, otherwise you’ll cut your own fucking head off.”

“Fuck you, Jamie. You probably can’t wait to start. Your men will feel right at home wading through open sewers.”

Arthur turned to leave and found Bertram standing behind him at the door, looking just as miserable.

“The stains they leave on the carpet…” he said, shaking his head.

“A price of doing business, I suppose.”

The old man nodded as he watched the captains bicker. Arthur joined his side, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Have you talked with Alyssa lately?” Bertram asked after a time.

“Just this morning. Her mood has soured the closer the funeral approaches. I’d hoped she might grieve like any other regular girl, but instead she’s out for blood.”

“She wants that boy’s killer found.”

“I’m working on it, but he’s proven an elusive little fuck.”

Bertram chuckled. “It seems that way, yes. There are a thousand thieves in this city. Finding one over another must be difficult. Still, you might look at it a different way. Knowing one thief from another is just as difficult.”

Just like last time, Arthur wondered if he were being tested. This time the wording seemed too strong to be coincidence. He decided to go out on a limb.

“I’m sure that even if we do catch the Watcher, it’ll be tough proving that’s who he is,” he said.

“No one seems to know,” Bertram agreed. “Though I trust you in these matters, and would vouch for your opinion.”

Arthur’s eyes lit up.

“Is that so?” he said. “I don’t think it will be long before I have a man to present to her. The city might be large, but there are too many eyes, too many mouths, for a man to hide. But I’m glad to know your trust in me is so great.”

“I trust you more than I would any of them,” Bertram said, waving a dismissive hand at the mercenaries. “The Hadfields have always been good friends of the Gemcrofts. I can only do so much. Alyssa needs help in matters such as these, a guiding voice amid her grief. If only you could talk to her, get her to listen…”

“I understand,” Arthur said. “I have my own matters to attend, but I should return before nightfall, or close to it. When I do, I’ll see if Alyssa will open up to me.”

“Thank you,” Bertram said, bowing low. “Now, if you will, I must try to convince those men that while the wine is a courtesy, it is certainly not free if you drink it by the barrel.”

“Gods give you luck with that.”

Arthur left the dining hall, retrieved his coat and sword, and exited the estate. Normally Oric would have gone with him, but he had headed north after bringing back Nathaniel’s supposed remains. Arthur was skilled with a sword, though, and he knew his way. Besides, once inside the Serpent’s territory, he’d be treated like a king.

Only minutes from Alyssa’s mansion, he noticed the first of many escorting him along the shadows. Their cloaks were green, so he relaxed. No doubt William Ket, leader of the Serpent Guild, wanted to protect his investments. Arthur couldn’t blame him. He took a few turns, vanishing deeper into the dark, dilapidated part of the city. Several more followed him, and for a moment, he swore he even saw someone along the rooftops. When he arrived at the guildhouse, his escorts came into view of its torches, and they motioned for him to enter.

Amid the emerald cushions and gold-framed paintings, Arthur sat and waited for William. A pretty lady wearing thin veils, and nothing else, approached and asked him his preference of drink. Normally he refused, always fearing some sort of poison or drug, but tonight he needed the help.