David Dalglish - A Dance of Cloaks

“Gerand, however, had other plans. The Trifect has gotten to the king somehow. Troops surrounded my home after you left. When Gerand informed me of his plan, I struck him with my cane and then released Aaron. That is my tale. I am an old advisor doing the will of his king, and though you may call me a traitor to your name, I was betrayed all the same. Do to me what you will.”

Robert and Thren stared eye to eye, neither flinching. Aaron watched the clash of wills with a growing feel of anxiety. He had never felt so helpless. It wasn’t like Robert had been exceedingly kind, but he had known things, and out of all his teachers, he had been the one to truly treat him like an adult. Robert had expected greatness. He had tested him with the darkness of his room, not frustrated him with beatings and curses like some of his teachers.

Aaron wanted to say this, but he knew his father would not be swayed by pity or requests for mercy. He would do what was best for the guild; he always did. Thren looked from the teacher to the student, and all there could see he had reached his decision.

“While in my services, you betrayed information about me and my son. I have killed men for less.”

The words hung in the air. Aaron fought down an impulse to shout in denial. Something about the way his father stood, without any anger or fury, hinted at something more. Thren looked far too pleased with himself.

“However,” he continued, “you also saved the life of my son knowing the punishment you would receive in turn. So now I face a dilemma, for anyone who saves the life of my son I reward greatly. How do I reward a man whose life is forfeit?”

Robert sensed the opening being given and took it.

“Let me swear what little remains of my life to you,” he said. “I shall be your slave and do whatever tasks you set before me, however difficult or demeaning.”

Senke winked at Kayla. Aaron saw it and felt his heart soar.

“A worthy suggestion,” Thren said. “For the sake of my son, I grant your request. You will have food and lodging here in my estate, and you shall train my son when you are not aiding with various duties that Senke will set up for you.”

Robert bowed low.

“Thank you,” he said.

“To your feet,” Senke said. “I’ve got a room near Aaron’s that should do nicely. Clothing might be a bit rough, but the former occupants left a few extra outfits they couldn’t cram into their wagons, so we’ll make do.”

Aaron turned to follow them as they left, but Thren cleared his throat. At the sound, the boy paused.

“Leave us,” Thren said to Will and Kayla. The two quickly obeyed. Thren shut the door behind them, then turned and crossed his arms over his chest. Aaron fought an impulse to lower his head. He was with his father; he would not show fear or weakness.

“You wish to speak with me?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

“You spied on our proceedings,” his father said.

“It is what you train me for.”

“You misdirect me with your answer,” Thren said, his eyes narrowing. “Trained or not, that does not explain your actions. Why did you listen in? Is it because of Robert? You were with him only a day. He cannot mean enough to risk my wrath.”

“I want to know,” Aaron blurted, his voice no longer a whisper. He pressed on before he lost his nerve. “What we do, what we are. I train and train, but I am still treated as a child. I know so little of the city, and if it weren’t for Kayla, I’d be in a dungeon, or dead, father.”

“That still does not give you permission to spy on my activities!”

Thren expected his son to cower. Grown men felt the pale touch of death when he shouted in his full anger. Aaron blinked, tilted his head, and then spoke so softly.

“But spying on you is how I saved your life.”

The battle-hardened guildmaster was struck by the simple pronouncement. He looked at the young man before him and remembered when he had been just a child, a child that could stab a man with a dagger to protect his father.

He killed so young, Thren thought. Yet I coddle him from the bloodshed raging around us. I fear for his safety, yet he is fearless before death, before injury, before even me…

“Though you disappoint me with your trespass, perhaps part of the blame is mine,” the elder Felhorn said. “From now on, you will be at my side at all times. My life is not safe, Aaron, and you will soon know that. But know that regardless the risk, I will bring you with me.”

“I’m not scared,” Aaron said.

“A foolish boast. Even I am sometimes afraid, as will you often be.”

The boy let a smile creep at the corners of his mouth.

“Scared or not,” he said, “I’ll never show it.”

Thren believed him.

V eliana stormed toward the back of the tavern, so mad she didn’t care if anyone saw her. An unmarked door suffered her wrath as she kicked it open. Inside, several men sat around a badly worn table. Two jumped at her entrance, simple thugs playing at guardsmen. When they reached for their blades, another of the men shook his head and slapped an open palm atop the table.

“No bloodshed,” the man said. “Put your swords away. Veliana did not come here to slit our throats.”

He saw the rage burning in her eyes and thought perhaps he was wrong, but he would not admit so openly. His thugs sat down, their hands lingering on their hilts. Veliana remained standing, though she at least had the decency to close the door behind her before she continued talking.

“What game do you play, hawk?” she asked him.

Kadish Vel, master of the Hawk Guild, smiled at the question. It was no secret he liked games; he would let the puppet of the Ash Guild explain further lest he reveal more than what she already knew. When he smiled, his teeth flashed red in the dim light. His underlings claimed it was from the blood of women he dined upon in the waning hours, though the rest of the city knew it was from his addiction to chewing crimleaf.

“I play many games,” Kadish said, winking. Veliana slammed a fist atop his table, scattering dice to the floor.

“Though you seem distraught,” he said, ignoring the outburst. “Did you lose? I must say, I don’t remember playing with you, and that is a game I feel I would remember.”

Veliana glared. Kadish had a narrow face and elongated nose. He wore an eyepatch over his right eye, though she was certain it was only for looks. The guildmaster seemed to feel himself the dashing sort, though in her opinion he looked more the castle mummer than a city pirate.

“I play no games with you,” Veliana said. “Your men have pushed into our territory. Everything south of Iron Road is ours, yet daily I find the bird’s eye scrawled over our ash.”

“You know the manner of guilds,” Kadish said, waving a dismissive hand. “The strong take from the weak. If you are so worried about the lost homes and bazaars then defend them.”

“Not here,” he added when he saw her reach for her daggers.

“That’s the game,” Veliana said. “You aren’t the stronger. We could bury you in days if war broke out between us. Why the sudden confidence? You’re as spineless as a snake. Where did this newfound courage come from?”

Veliana expected the insults to rankle the proud man, but instead he laughed as if she had tickled him.

“Courage is a funny thing,” he said. “What you see as courage I see as wisdom. You aren’t as strong as you once were. James Beren’s ego has defeated you. You would not storm in here red with rage if this were just a simple loss of a few pitiful homes and merchants. But wait! Don’t tell me, otherwise you spoil the game. The Serpents have moved in as well, haven’t they? And I bet the symbol of the wolf covers plenty of your ash in the east.”