David Dalglish - A Dance of Cloaks

They did not see any, for they did not look up. Crouched on the roof of the bakery waited Veliana and two of her men.

“This deep down Warden Street?” Veliana muttered as she watched them paint. “Have they truly grown so bold?”

“They’ve gone unchecked,” said Walt crouched beside her. His face was tanned and lean, his smile missing many teeth. By no means was she friends with him, but he was skilled in battle and reliable when it came to matters of stealth and shadow. For those reasons, she kept him close. Crouched shoulder to shoulder atop the roof, she wished the man would at least take better care of his teeth. Someday his breath would give them away, she just knew it.

“Unchecked?” Veliana said, her voice deeply bitter. “I’m surprised they haven’t encountered the rest of the guilds slicing through our territory. They’re like wolves fighting over a dead deer.”

“Tonight that changes,” said Walt. “Tonight the deer shows it’s not so dead after all.”

“They move,” said Victor, the other man atop the roof with them. He was young with short blonde hair and a scraggly mustache that failed to thicken no matter how long he went without shaving.

Veliana watched as the six men bolted around the sides of the buildings. She unsheathed her daggers as beside her Walt readied a crossbow.

“Six on three,” he said. “I’ll get two before they turn. That leaves two to one for you and Victor when you’re on the ground. Think you can handle that?”

“Don’t insult me,” Veliana said as she leapt off the roof. Her silent landing went unnoticed. High above her, a crossbow bolt whistled through the air. It struck one of the hawk thugs square in the back. He lurched gracelessly to the ground. The remaining five spun. A second died, a bolt piercing his throat. The others charged, weaving side to side in an attempt to thwart the crossbowman.

“Hurry,” Walt said to Victor. “Land behind them. The surprise will be their death.”

“You’re right,” Victor said as he drew his dagger. “Surprise usually is death.”

He stabbed Walt through the eye and then rolled his body off the roof.

The remaining four hawks were almost upon her when Walt’s body hit the ground. Her heart sank at the disgusting sound it made. She had only a moment to glance up and see Victor sneering down at her before daggers cut at her slender frame. She batted them away, but with four to her one, she was sorely pressed.

The hawks spread out further, trapping her in the center of a diamond. Desperate, she lunged at one of the men, thinking if she could kill him quickly she might escape. Her skill was great, and the man would have died under her assault, but then she felt a great weight slam into her back. Stunned, she looked down at the bloody bolt protruding from her shoulder. Blood poured across her clothes.

Her daggers faltered, her meager blocks batted aside like children’s defenses. Something hard struck the back of her head. She had just enough time to curse Victor’s name before blacking out.

W hen Veliana awoke, she was blindfolded and shackled to a wall. She felt uncomfortably warm, which made even less sense when she realized she was naked. As the rest of her senses came into focus, she heard the popping and crackling of a fire. That explained the sweat that covered her body. But where was she?

“Wake her up,” she heard a voice say. Hoping to hear anything she could use, she kept her body still and pretended to be asleep. To her left, she heard rustling, and then a horrendous heat pressed against her side. She cried out. The sound was just barely coming out of her mouth before a fist struck her. Blood dribbled down her lips. Her tongue ached from where she’d bit it.

Someone yanked the blindfold off her face. With blurred vision she looked at her captor. She saw the gray of his cloak and the shortswords swinging from his hips. She didn’t even need to see his face to know who had captured her.

“I was told you were a gift from guildmaster Kadish,” Thren Felhorn said.

“Forgive me if I’m not the present you were hoping for,” she said. She tried to turn her head to spit, but the shackles around her head and neck prevented it. Feeling horribly sick, she spat out the blood from her mouth. It dribbled down her neck and in between her breasts. Her stomach curled as she felt the blood trickle down her body.

“Whether wanted or not, no good man turns down a gift,” Thren said. A giant muscular man stood beside him. They were outside the city, somewhere near the north judging by the trees that grew within touching distance from the wall…the wall she was helplessly strapped to by buckles and shackles.

“Will, clean her off,” Thren said to the giant man. Will obliged, cleaning off the blood from her chest and neck with a clean rag. She expected him to fondle her breasts or let his fingers linger on her neck, but the man did no such thing.

“Thank you,” she said. She felt her head clear a little. Two torches were stuck in the ground on either side of her, and their light disrupted her eyes’ attempt to adjust to the dark. She thought she saw another form standing beside Thren. It made no sense, though. She thought she saw a young boy, just a child.

“I’ve been patient,” Thren said. He crossed his arms and stood directly before her. “I’ve given James plenty of chances to come to my side. Your Ash Guild is strong, and I hold more respect for it than any other guild. Yet you did something stupid, girl. You plotted against me.”

“No,” she said.

Thren’s fist smashed her face. Will’s rag was there immediately, soaking in the blood she spat. The rage coupled with kindness only confused her more.

“Don’t lie to me,” Thren said. “The Worm has already told me your plan.”

Gileas, Veliana thought as she felt her stomach sink. You bastard.

“What do you want with me?” she asked.

“I need the Ash Guild’s men. We cannot be fractured any longer. If any are to trust me, then all must join me willingly. The second I force loyalty, the other guilds will break away for fear of absorption and disbandment. James has proven stubborn. I will not kill him, though. Too many whisper of me doing such things as is. I cannot dignify those mad ramblings with a kernel of truth.”

“You want me to kill him,” she said, guessing where his thoughts were leading. “I’ll take over, and then bend my knee to you.”

“You’re smart, strong, and beautiful,” Thren said. “It would not be difficult for you to consolidate power.”

“Your plan is suicide,” Veliana said. “A combined attack against all three leaders of the Trifect during their Kensgold? We’ll be slaughtered and broken.”

Thren ran a hand through her long red hair.

“Do not let loyalty cost you everything,” he whispered to her. “Either accept my proposal or suffer the consequences. What is your choice?”

Any other guild member would have turned on their leader. Veliana was unlike any other member.

“James has saved me a hundred times,” she said. “Kill me or let me go. I will not turn traitor and knife him in the dark.”

Thren sighed.

“A shame. I will not kill you, Veliana. That was not part of the deal. Gileas required you as his price for telling me of your conspiring with Gerand. I had no intention of paying it, but then again, I never thought you’d refuse the position I offered you.”

A shiver of disgust ran up and down her spine. Now she understood why she they’d stripped her naked. They’d even healed the wound on her shoulder where the arrow had pierced clean through. She closed her eyes, trying not to think of the ugly man’s black teeth, twisted face, and stubby fingers lacking fingernails. She almost changed her mind. Thren paused, as if waiting for her to break. When she didn’t, he put his back to her.