A Dance of Cloaks (51 page)

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Authors: David Dalglish

BOOK: A Dance of Cloaks
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From there he leapt a nearby tree, slid down, and vanished in the mob.

H
e’d thought it’d be harder to locate a member of the Spider Guild, but it ended up rather insultingly easy. Torgar caught sight of a gray cloak while riding east through the city. The man was clearly in a hurry, so much so that he wasn’t taking any precautions to avoid being followed. Torgar laughed as he rode after him down the narrow alley. The Spider turned at the sound of hoof steps, but far too late. Torgar leapt off, cracking him atop the head with his fists. The rogue crumpled like an unhooked straw man.

Torgar dragged him further out of view from the main road, then pushed him against a wall. He pinched the man’s nose shut and then slapped him a few times until he lurched awake.

“Hush now,” Torgar said, putting a hand over the man’s mouth and then using it to shove him hard against the wall. “I don’t want to start cutting pieces off you already.”

The Spider paled a little and nodded. Torgar chuckled.

“Good,” he said, drawing his sword and resting it across his knees. “You just remember I got this, alright, and things will go well for everyone involved.”

“What do you want from me?” the man asked as Torgar removed his hand.

“Your name, first off,” Torgar said.

“Tobias.”

“Well, Tobias,” Torgar said, “now that I know your name, how about I get to know a few more things? For starters, where you were rushing off to in such a big hurry?”

Tobias shut his mouth and purposefully looked away. Torgar rolled his eyes. He struck the Spider with his fist, grabbed his arm, and then buried his sword through the palm of Tobias’s hand. As Tobias screamed, Torgar shoved his hand over his mouth and slammed his head back.

“Listen closely, dumbass,” Torgar said. “You ever heard of the Blood Riders? They’re stationed out of Ker, carry quite a reputation in the west?”

Tobias’s eyes widened at the mention of their name.

“Oh good, you have heard of them,” Torgar said. “You know what their favorite method of torture is? They take four of their horses, one for each arm and leg, and then tie a rope securing you from saddle to wrist or ankle. After that, it’s off to the races. You should see how much blood can splatter into the air when those ropes pull tight.”

Torgar shoved his face into Tobias’s and then grinned.

“I used to be a Blood Rider, you goathumper. See my horse over there? I may have only one, but you’d be surprised what I can do with a little bit of rope.”

Cold sweat covered Tobias’s body. Torgar ground his sword around a little, then pulled it out. Then he removed his hand and asked his question again. This time he got an answer.

“Soldiers attacked us at Connington’s,” Tobias said. “I was outside the complex when they came. I hoped to find Thren and warn him.”

Torgar glanced east where a giant plume of smoke stretched to the night sky.

“I think he might already know,” Torgar said. “Let’s try for something that I wouldn’t find out on my own in the next five minutes. Your guildmaster has someone special, very special. Do you know who I’m talking about?”

Tobias’s look showed he clearly did.

“Don’t ask,” the Spider said. “Please, don’t ask. Thren will kill me if I tell.”

“I’ll kill you twice as bad,” Torgar growled.

Tobias actually laughed.

“You think you’re more frightening than Thren?” he asked. “Go ahead. Use your damn horse. I won’t tell.”

Torgar sighed. He’d thought for a moment he’d avoided torture. Oh well. At least it was something he was good at.

All it took was ten minutes. He left Tobias holding his intestines in his hands.

“You’re right, Thren may kill you,” Torgar said as he mounted his horse. “But you really should have talked.”

He rode back to the main street and then hurried east, the clomp of his horse’s feet on the dirt a soothing pattern. The directions were simple, the safehouse plain and poorly guarded. From what Tobias had told him, Thren didn’t have any men to spare on his glorious night. Torgar snorted. Well, he’d play his part in tarnishing that old bastard’s glory. So far the smoke seemed focused on Connington’s. Hopefully his own master’s place had survived intact.

The house appeared the same as any other, with a small door in the front center, no windows, and a slanted roof of wood and clay. Torgar rode a few more houses down, dismounted, and then tied his horse’s reins to the handle of a door. The mercenary captain drew his sword, kissed the blade, and ran. He slammed into the door at full speed, throwing his shoulder into it. The wood cracked and splintered.

“Shit!” Torgar heard a man shout from within. Knowing he had little time, he flung his weight against it again. The door burst open, revealing two men of the Spider Guild standing with their daggers drawn. Madelyn lay slumped in the corner, unmoving. Another woman lay beside her. Torgar desperately hoped neither were dead. He had no intention of falling on his sword, but by the gods, he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days fleeing from Laurie Keenan, either.

“Come on, then!” Torgar roared, swinging his sword in a wildly exaggerated arc. “Let’s have a fight, eh?”

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.”

29

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.

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