David Dalglish - A Dance of Cloaks

One of the Spiders fell for the bait, lunging inward when Torgar should have been vulnerable. Instead a meaty fist crushed his face, his movement anticipated. When he collapsed, the longsword pierced through his shoulder and tore free, severing bone and spilling his blood across the floor. The remaining man glanced at Madelyn, clearing thinking to use her as a hostage. Torgar never gave him the time. He rushed the thief, not at all afraid of his small dagger. He had range, skill, and sheer brute strength.

Accepting a stab to the shoulder, Torgar returned the favor. His sword punched through the Spider’s chest and out his back, pinning him to the wall. The mercenary captain grabbed the man’s head with his hands, headbutted him, and then twisted violently. When he yanked his sword free, the man fell to the ground dead.

“Gyah,” Torgar said, yanking the dagger out of his shoulder and examining it. The side was serrated, and sure enough, he’d felt it. “Mean little prick,” he said, tossing the dagger back atop the body. Taking in a deep breath, he turned and lifted Madelyn’s body.

She was breathing.

“Must be my lucky night,” Torgar said. He stole a long kiss from Madelyn, then exited the home. He untied his reins, slung Madelyn over his shoulders, and then mounted his horse. Sighing, he dismounted and retrieved the other unconscious lady. She looked highborn, so he figured Laurie could puzzle out who she was. No matter what, Torgar felt confident he was ruining Thren’s plans, and that alone made it worthwhile. The stranger on his shoulder, and Madelyn curled in his lap like a child, Torgar snapped the reins and rode back toward Keenan’s wagons, hoping to catch up before they gained too much distance between them and Veldaren.

“Happy fucking Kensgold, Thren,” Torgar said as he rode out the city gates and into the night air.

“Hope you had as much fun tonight as I have.”

T hren had seen the smoke rising as he and Kayla returned from watching the Kensgold to ensure its disbandment. By the time they reached the city, there was no questioning its source. The Connington estate was on fire.

“What would have made the damn fools start so early?” Thren wondered, his voice carrying a hard edge. “Leon isn’t anywhere near the city!”

“Perhaps they encountered more resistance than we did at Maynard’s?” Kayla asked.

Thren shook his head.

“Whatever the reason, we need to hurry to the Gemcroft estate. If Connington’s is already burning, there’s little we can do there. Damn it! I had such wonderful plans to make him pay for Will’s death. At the very least, I need Maynard to die tonight.”

They ran side by side, both panting from the exertion. When he reached the mansion, he saw a few of the Wolf Guild scattered about, keeping an eye on the roads. Cynric stood in one of the windows of the nearby homes. He cupped his hands to his mouth and howled.

“That man needs his head nailed tighter to his neck,” Thren mumbled. The two of them hurried through the door to find the guildmaster waiting.

“We’ve seen the smoke,” Cynric said. “Do you know anything about it? We hoped for a runner or two to clarify, but no one’s showed.”

“We know as little as you then,” Thren said. “Damn. At least we know their mansion is destroyed. Have you seen anything here?”

“Not a hint of prey,” Cynric said. “Rather boring, really. We almost went to join the feast at Connington’s. Hopefully you’ll remember that when the killing starts. We deserve a leader’s share.”

Thren left the house, Kayla trailing after him. He walked through the open gate and into the mansion. Kadish was waiting for them.

“I was wondering when you’d return,” the man said. “I’ve been wanting a straight answer about what to do with him.”

He pointed to where James Beren lay slumped against a wall, his arms and legs bound tight. His eyes were open, but his mouth was gagged. Thren tilted his head as he thought.

“Is the Ash Guild broken?” he asked.

“We’ve killed all but a few,” Kadish said. “We’ll hunt down who we can, but most will just sign on with other guilds, including mine. They’re done.”

“Good.” Thren turned to James and drew his sword. Kneeling down, he removed the gag from his mouth and smiled.

“Do you see what happens when you resist me?” he asked. James nodded, his face bruised and purple. Thren stood and looked to the many members of both the Spider and Hawk guilds standing about. “Do you all see what happens when you resist me?”

They nodded. In response, Thren turned and rammed his shortsword through one of James’s eyes. His face locked in a vicious snarl, Thren twisted the blade and then yanked it free. Gore splattered across the floor.

“Do you see now?” he asked them.

He cleaned the blade, sheathed it, and then turned to Kadish.

“Get your men ready,” he said. “The Wolf Guild will surround them and cut off any retreat once they’re within the outer gate. We’ll crush them between us, all of them. We end this tonight!”

Kayla followed him back outside as he walked toward the gate’s exit.

“Where are you going now?” she asked.

“To get my son,” he said. “The priests should be done with him by now. I want him to watch our victory.”

“But Maynard may already approach,” Kayla insisted. “We don’t have time for you to go looking for him.”

Thren snapped to a halt and turned. Kayla felt her heart stutter as she realized the mistake she’d made.

“Why would I need to go looking?” he asked. “Or do you know of some reason he would have left their compound?”

Kayla tried to think of a lie, any lie. But Thren was staring at her, his eyes fierce and unflinching. She felt her resolve breaking. The whole night had been one nightmare after another. Before the Spider Guild, she might have watched the night’s events and passed them along for coin. Being involved was a wholly different beast, and she hated it.

“Aaron broke out,” she said, deciding truth was her only chance to live. “He resisted their attempts and met with me on the rooftops.”

Thren stepped closer toward her. She noticed the subtle drop of his hand toward the hilt of his shortsword.

“And you never told me this why?” he asked.

“He’s dead to you,” she said. “He told me so. You’ll never see him again.”

“Why did you not tell me!” he screamed, not caring that the different guilds were watching.

“Because he deserves better,” she whispered, a tear running down the side of her face.

“Better?” asked Thren. “Every living man and woman would soon quake in fear of his name. He would be a killer even greater than I. He was so close to perfect, so close, but now he’s gone. Not your place, Kayla. It was never your place.”

Please, Kayla prayed as she stood straight and waited. Make this mean something, Haern. I beg you.

Thren cut her down with a single stroke of his shortsword. He stood over her body, his shoulders slumped and his jaw trembling. Everything was crumbling. The fire at Connington’s. His son’s betrayal. He still had the naked bell’s attempt on the king, plus Maynard. The night was not a total loss, not yet.

He returned to the mansion to wait. There was no point in searching for Aaron, not then. When things calmed, he’d scour the city, search under every rock and look into every hole if he must. But not yet.

“What in Karak’s name did she do?” Kadish asked when Thren returned.

“She hid things from me,” Thren said. “Now see to your men. The Kensgold ended not long ago. They should return within the hour.”

Kadish shrugged.

“Alright, then. Shame about that bitch, though. She was a cute one.”