The Blackguard (Book 2) (10 page)

His father was still wiping up the wine he had spit out upon his robes and he looked at Luthian clearly trying to regain his composure.
Henrick’s tone was cautious, clearly not swayed by this act of his uncle’s. “I am sure, Brother, you will find that the Daezun did most of Alador’s training. He is quick to learn, deadly with a bow, and already able to practice simple cantrips.” Henrick toasted his brother with his wine. “He is also my son, too quick with his tongue and often has to
eat
his words.” Henrick glanced at Alador and the warning in his gaze was clear.

Alador looked between the two men, both were handsome by any maiden’s standards.  His uncle had a porcelain quality to him, as if carved from smooth white marble. He had a chiseled face and his eyes, a mixture of lavender and silver, were captivating even to Alador. His father sat in stark contrast, with jet black hair and dark robes that accentuated his swarthier complexion. He was more muscled than Luthian and seemed more at ease in his skin. Both men, however, shared one factor that Alador could not miss: they both exuded an air of
insidious danger that was palpable. His father seemed more lethal to Alador at that moment than he ever had. He doubted that any would be able to stand against these two if they were ever united in their purpose. 

“Well then, a good foundation to start with.” Luthian set his glass down. He clasped his fingers together, steepling them as he looked to Alador. He leaned forward slightly, a
calculating smile on his lips as he asked, “Let me ask you Alador, what do you want?”

“What do I want with what, Uncle?” Alador asked respectfully. He was being careful and trying to follow his father’s advice to stick to the questions posed. That one had seemed rather broad.

“With your life, Alador. What do you want to do with your life?” Luthian’s long fingers continued to move together.

Alador’s first thought was to live. He swallowed hard. “To return to my people and for them to accept me back, but that seems a little far from my reach. Given that, I would like to learn to be an enchanter so at least I could travel amongst them.”  Alador had thought about
this a great deal of thought and this seemed the easiest way to be close to Mesiande and his family.

Luthian’s fingers stopped moving. He tipped his head curiously and frowned. “That is it?  Nothing more…” Luthian was clearly searching for a word, “...aspiring?”

Alador smiled at the wine in the glass. He had been twirling it slightly and the wine was close to the top. “I can think of nothing more aspiring than to be able to protect and assist those I care for at home.”

Luthian leaned forward and picked up his own glass from the table. “Interesting. Most of those cast out as you have been speak of owning a plot of land, finding adventure or amassing a great deal of wealth. I would remind you, also, that this is your home now. Your people cast you out.” Luthian’s tone held his contempt for the Daezun.

Alador looked back up at his uncle. He felt something cold and dark shift within him as he looked to the High Minister. It was an uneasy feeling and it must have hit his face as well for he heard his father whisper, “Alador…” Henrick’s hissed warning had no effect as Alador sat his glass down and leaned forward, as well.

“I have enough slips to keep me. No one owns the land, it’s the gods’ gift to all the people of the isle, and I’ve had enough adventure with fire breathing dragons to last me a lifetime. Why am I here, uncle? If you really saw me as family, I would have had a letter or word from you, yet I’ve seen nothing all these years. Two can see through lies as easily as one: you didn’t give a damn about me till I harvested that stone.”

Alador was startled at his own confidence. He could feel his father’s gaze on him, the heat of it was tangible even though he didn’t break eye contact with his uncle. “You said truth between us,” Alador reminded Luthian coldly. He was not going to play these politics his father spoke of; he was going to learn and be rid of these cruel people. Alador sat back in his chair, his eyes boldly meeting his uncle’s.

Luthian chuckled
with amusement. “That I did. I fear I may have opened a box that I will want to shut with that one.” Luthian looked at Henrick. “I like this lad. He has spirit.” He winked at his brother with what appeared to be genuine good will.

He looked back at Alador, his tone lighter than what had passed between them just moments before. “Then let us be candid, nephew. Your father and I are well aware of the size of the stone you sold for the merchant tried to sell it to me. A stone that large holds a great deal of power and someone untrained with that much power could be a threat to himself and even those he might care about. As your uncle, I would see you trained so that you do not accidentally explode. As the High Minister of Lerdenia, I would see you trained that one day if needed, you could be called upon to protect the isle.”

Luthian gestured towards the windows across the room. “The world across the ocean is filled with war. One day, it may come to our shore or we may need to take it to theirs. Is that enough truth for you, Alador?” There was a bit of sarcasm in Luthian’s tone. He toasted Alador with his glass.

Alador weighed his uncle’s words. There was truth to what he said. He didn’t know how to use whatever the stone had done to him. He would protect the isle if war came to it; if war approached the Lerdenians, it was bound to find the Daezun, as well. “For now,” he conceded.  Alador could feel Henrick’s tension and finally looked at him. His father’s eyes were filled with reproach, and in that moment Alador hoped he’d be sent to the guard that night. He suspected if he left together with Henrick, he’d get an ear full all the way home.

The door opened and a man bowed low before his uncle. “Dinner is served whenever it pleases the Minister.”

“Come gentlemen, I have quite the dinner and entertainment planned. A few friends and council members are awaiting us.” Luthian downed the last of his wine and stood.

Alador did the same and rose. He liked feasts. He hoped the boards, well, tables here, were as well laid as the feasts at home. Alador suddenly realized he was ravenously hungry and nodded. He wasn’t concerned about guests; most feasts or gatherings involved a lot of people. As they made their way to the dining room, what Alador saw was not what he had expected.  There were two long tables filled with people all dressed as finely as or more so than he and his father. As they entered the room, all conversation stopped and everyone rose almost as one.  Alador looked at his father wide-eyed.

“Privilege of power, son. A respect for the position and for some the man.” Henrick’s words were soft as his uncle had stridden ahead to a table that was raised above the others.  Henrick indicated that they should follow him.

“Why is our table away from everyone?” Alador asked curiously.

“Why? So the food at our table is not handled by any but the most trusted and so that all eyes are drawn to the High Minister and those he chooses to display.” There was sarcasm in Henrick’s voice. “Alador, you will do better to stop comparing.  Lerdenia is as different from the Daezun as apple is to a prickleberry. They both might bring forth fruit, but neither will ever taste like the other.”

Henrick climbed the few steps, and Luthian indicated that he should sit to his left and Alador to his right. Alador didn’t like being out of the line of sight of his father, but sat down uncomfortably as instructed. When his uncle sat, the rest of the room sat down as well and the conversation resumed. “Is it always like this?” He asked his uncle.

“A little intimidating, I imagine, yes?” Luthian put a hand on Alador’s shoulder as he leaned over at Alador with an understanding smile. When Alador nodded yes, Luthian continued his answer in a slightly more comforting tone. “I actually find it rather droll and usually take meals by myself. However, given your arrival and the declaration of another blood kin in the Guldalian line, many wished to lay eyes upon you. Look around the room carefully. Note those who look to you, and how. There are some out there that are gauging if you are someone they can sway favor with, so as to gain my ear. There are others out there who will hate you just because
you have Daezun blood. There are still others out there who want to kill you just to hurt your father or myself.”

Alador surveyed the crowd before him carefully. His uncle’s words rang true to him, there were some amongst those dining that did not hide their animosity. Others, when they felt his gaze, waved or nodded back. “Why do you not put a stop to it?” He asked curiously. “All the squabbling and killing seems hardly an orderly system to manage.”

Luthian waved a woman over, and suddenly they were surrounded. Everywhere Alador looked, there seemed to be beautiful women about his age leaning across the table. One filled his glass, while another leaned across in front of him to slide a plate of steaming food before him. Her dress, leaning as she was, exposed most of her breasts to him and he found himself almost not hearing his uncle’s answer. Other women attended his father and uncle.

“If they squabble amongst themselves, they are less a threat to me.” Luthian answered smoothly.

Alador found himself caught in the most beautiful pair of emerald eyes he had ever seen as the girl straightened back up. She caught his admiring gaze and smiled shyly. He found himself unable to look away from those eyes as he answered. “Why not just kill off the traitors and make it a law to stop the killing?” he murmured.

Luthian followed Alador’s gaze and smiled. “Yes, you are definitely are our kin.” He chuckled softly and leaned over to Alador to murmur softly. “You find this one appealing?”

Alador nodded smiling at the girl. “Who wouldn’t?”

“You have good taste. She is yours.” Luthian sat up and picked up his glass.

“Wait, what? Mine? What do you mean mine?” Alador looked over to his uncle in confusion, back to the woman, and then right back to his uncle.

“You may have her. When you are bored with her, let me know and I will replace her.” Luthian did not seem to find this conversation the least bit appalling.

“Have her for…” The realization that his uncle was offering her for his bed filled his face, and the flush of embarrassment must have been written clearly, because his uncle laughed aloud.

“You have had a woman before, yes?” Luthian’s voice was louder than Alador appreciated.

“Yes, but how can you just hand one off like property?  What if she doesn’t want to… you know.” Alador looked at him, clearly upset.

“If she doesn’t want to participate in the tasks assigned to her, she is welcome to return to the lower tiers from where she came. Most of these beautiful young women do not have a mage’s power and, therefore, use other favors for a higher place.” He watched Alador as he picked up his fork, waving at the women about them. “They are not prisoners, my dear boy. They can come and go as they please.” Luthian’s tone held a quiet tone of finality and he began to eat.

Alador looked at the young woman who had served him his plate. She was taller and thinner than the women he was used to, and her dark black hair was braided and coiled back to hold the rest of the length still as she served. She glanced back, catching his assessing gaze, and smiled shyly again before hurrying off to someone’s bidding.

He looked down at his food and saw a wonderful array of vegetables and a large piece of fish. The aroma was amazing, but Alador’s appetite had faltered. Henrick
asked his uncle a question, and though Alador couldn’t hear it over the din of the populace gathered, it gave him time to reflect on the things he had learned.

He nibbled at the food before him as he watched those below. There were many older men, their hair as white as his uncle’s. There were women as well, most dressed in more finery than he had seen on any woman, even on a house
-mating day.

There was one man that kept drawing Alador’s eyes, because of his lack of embellishments. He was dressed simply and sat without talking to his peers around him. He sipped the wine, but his plate appeared largely untouched. His hair was golden as harvest wheat. But it was the coldness in his eyes that bothered Alador; it reminded him of the way Trelmar had watched him. His uncle was right. Alador hadn’t been here a day, and he already had enemies.

Chapter Eight

Aorun waited for Sordith and Owen in his office, fingering a gilded invitation to the High Minister’s dinner. It seemed the man had gone and found himself a nephew. Aorun hated the political dinners he was sometimes given the opportunity to attend, but good information could usually be found there. Aorun’s largest trade item was information. He thought about sending Sordith, but suspected that his right hand was not as forthcoming in his observations as Aorun would like. He dared not send Owen. It would be like letting a flight of lexital into the warehouse: nothing would survive.

The door opened suddenly, and reflexively Aorun’s hand went to his blade as Owen sauntered in. He had a black eye and a split lip. Aorun raised a brow as he looked him over. “You had best hope that the other man looks worse.” He knew that Owen had a penchant for fighting in the rings for a split of the take.
 

Owen just grinned in that big easy manner of his. “Dead.”
 It seemed all that needed to be said as he moved to his spot on the wall, leaving the door open. Owen leaned back, arms crossed.  “Something important to get you up so early, boss?”

Aorun nodded. “I was looking over reports and found a note that the new merchant up on the second tier refused to pay his protective due. We are going to go pay him a visit.”
 The man they were going to see was a jeweler who specialized in the enchantments of rings and pendants. If he was expecting to get jewels to his shop, he had to bring them through the trenches to do so. His supply line had just dried up. Aorun knew Owen took joy in the breaking of things: windows, goods, bones.  It didn’t seem to matter much to his henchman.

Owen grinned. “I love my job.” He pulled out his dagger and set to it with a stone as he leaned against the wall.

Sordith walked in at that moment, his cat-like movements as silent as ever. His face held the usual bland expression it had until something displeased him. It was that silence that endeared him to Aorun. If he needed eyes in difficult places, Sordith knew how to see it done.  “Have a fun evening?” Aorun teased eyeing his second.

“Very relaxing,” Sordith answered, moving to stand beside Aorun. “Interesting to see you ready so early.”

Owen grinned at Sordith. “That is what I said.”

Aorun just shook his head. “I am not always late to rise.” Both of his men just looked at him. “What? I’m not.”

Sordith gave a simple smirk. “Alright, not always. We must not discount the tenth day of the nine out of ten, Owen.” He laughed more and Owen joined in.

Owen moved to Sordith and clapped him on the shoulder. “So how was the farm wench last night?”

“She was a bit hysterical at first but she came around,” Sordith replied.

“Good! I want a piece of that,” Owen said with a cruel grin.

“Afraid I can’t let you do that, Owen,” Sordith answered.

“Ah,
come on, I always offer to share with you.” Owen frowned. The big man wore the expression of a child that had been denied dessert.

“How often do I take you up on that?” Sordith asked levelly.

“Well…um…never, actually.” Owen paused and looked at Sordith, puzzled.

“There is a reason for that, Owen. I like my women warm, willing and clean. Let us just say I have more discerning tastes.” Sordith grinned at the large man, his tone casual.

“Can I at least look her over?” Owen asked with a frown. He was fairly sure he’d just been insulted, but was struggling to find out where.

“I fear I sent her home,” Sordith answered.

Aorun had been following the exchange with a grin to the last, but the smile dropped at the word “home.” He felt his face flush with anger as he turned to Sordith. “Sent home?”

“Yes, sent home.” Sordith met Aorun’s angry gaze evenly.

“Why, by the gods, would you send such a comely lass home?” Aorun’s nostrils flared. “She couldn’t have been that bad in your bed?”

“I wouldn’t know, I didn’t press her to it. I sent her home last night.” Sordith shrugged.

Aorun raised his gauntleted hand to strike Sordith and was surprised when Sordith caught the arm as he pulled back. Aorun had barely seen him move. They stared eye to eye through their own arms.

“Before you do that, remember that you gave your word that I could do with the girl as I pleased,” Sordith whispered softly. His eyes were hard as they met Aorun’s.

“That is not what I meant,” Aorun growled angrily.

“You did not ask what I wanted, merely gave me full leave to do as I willed. I willed to send the girl home with a pouch for her fears and trouble.” Sordith had not yet let go of Aorun’s hand. Owen stood beside them both, out
of harm’s way, his hand on his sword hilt. It was clear he had no idea what to do if they came to blows.

“You clearly heard me say I wanted her trained in the brothels.” Aorun’s eyes danced with anger; he was obviously taking this as a slight.

“While you stand there, considering whether or not you will kill me for doing only what you, yourself, allowed me to do, I would have you add to my list of sins that I will help in the trenches anywhere you ask. I will never,” Sordith emphasized firmly, “be a part of kidnapping innocent people from their homes outside of Silverport again. If that is a requirement of my service, kill me now.” Sordith slowly let go of Aorun’s hand. “There are enough whores and destitute for you to prey on here. You don’t need to ruin the lives of those that actually managed to find a life outside this shite hole.

Aorun stared at Sordith in disbelief as his second drew his sword. Aorun reacted instantaneously, the hiss
ing of the two swords freeing from sheaths echoing in deadly concert. “Surely you do not wish to die over some little trollop.” He had no sooner uttered the words than Sordith tossed his sword gently to Owen, who caught it in surprise. Sordith followed it with six daggers that swiftly flew across the room, burying themselves in the half-beam on the far wall. They were neatly lined up and quivering, one below the other. Aorun hadn’t even known Sordith carried six daggers.

“I am giving you the opportunity to send me to the gods now. Choose wisely, Aorun, knowing full well that I will not be party to hunting and selling free women.” Sordith put both his hands out to either side of him. “You and I know that there is no going down for me. I rise or I die. I have no desire to kill you. Therefore, if you cannot accept my terms of service, kill me now.”

Owen stepped back. This was between the two of them. His eyes were wide as he stared between the two deadly men. He held Sordith’s blade like it was a vile object, out away from his body. He wasn’t the only one staring in disbelief, Aorun also stared wide-eyed at Sordith.

“By the gods, man! I knew you had some stupid sense of honor, but this is a bit much.
 We deal in illicit goods every day!” Aorun waved his sword about them.

“I have no problem stealing the fools in the tiers blind. I do not mind keeping the peace such as it were in this foul hole. I do not prey on innocent people trying to earn an honest wage,” Sordith stated firmly. He still had his hands out. “I barely tolerate the muscling of those that live here. However, it is your realm to lead, not mine.”

“What would you do different to lead this hole, as you call it?” Aorun asked. There was a deadly edge to his tone.

“Tell that bastard Veaneth that if he wants Lerdenian woman, he can hire them. We are done. We are not slavers of our own people.”

“I see. Anything else you seem to think I am deficient in?” Aorun asked bitterly, wounded that his second was turning on him.

“Bugger it, Aorun, ever think that it’s not all about you?” Sordith let out an exasperated sigh.

Aorun’s answer was swift and honest. “No.”

“I’m not saying you need to change anything. I’m saying leave me out of it,” Sordith countered. He still held Aorun’s gaze without fear.

“That is all you want, me to leave you out of any of this trafficking?” Aorun considered that. He really didn’t want to lose Sordith. He trusted him for this very reason. The man had principle, and…well, he could manage numbers. Aorun made the decision and slid his sword home.  “Done.”

“You understand that if I am forced to do so, I will act.” Sordith’s words held a strange edge of promise.

Aorun waved his hands in dismissal. “Good as done. I have enough other things you can be a party to, and besides, even though he is a bit overeager, Owen seems to like that part.” Aorun turned and walked to his desk. “Pick up your weapons. We have work to do.”

Sordith moved to pull his daggers from the beam and slid them all back into their respective sheaths. His eyes met Owen’s with a withering look. “Any words?”

Owen snorted. “No, sir. I like this arrangement just fine,” he said with a large grin, keeping it even as Sordith glowered at him. “You turn them down and I will just console their broken hearts.” Owen paused for a moment and then leaned into Sordith to ask quietly. “You do like women though, don’t ya?” Owen handed him back his sword.

Sordith took the sword and slammed it back into its sheath. “Of course I like women. Don’t be daft.” He moved over to Aorun, who still had his back to him.

Owen grinned. “Okay, okay…Just checking.” Owen went back to his spot, watching the two cautiously.

Auron was staring at his desk, deep in thought. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt him to see what Sordith would do. He would go with them, but Aorun would have him make the demand. Aorun turned and regarded the two. “As I was telling Owen, that new jewelry merchant on the second tier has refused to pay his dues. I need to explain how Silverport works to the man. I have decided
Sordith that you will do this instead. You say there are better ways to do this then ‘muscling,’ as you call it.” Aorun crossed his arms in challenge. “Let me see how you would handle such a situation.”

Sordith eyed Aorun. “I see this as a losing situation. If I do well, you will see it as a slight to your methods. If I do poorly, I will have confirmed that your approach is best and you will mock me with it.”

Aorun grinned. “True, I would mock you with it.” Aorun considered this a moment. “An agreement, then. If your way does not work, I get to mock you with it.” Aorun grinned again in playful mischief, as if the confrontation just moments ago hadn’t occurred. He became more serious after a moment, though, looking at Sordith. “If your way does work, I will agree to at least try your suggestions. I am not unreasonable, Sordith. I know you have a head for numbers, and I am for anything that brings more slips to our own coffers.”

Sordith considered his offer for a long moment.
 He offered his arm. “Agreed,” he said with his usual firm lack of emotion.

Aorun clasped his arm as they solidified their agreement. “What is the plan then to get this merchant to cough up his due?”

“You watch play muscle, and let me do all the talking.” Sordith’s eyes were shrewd, he was clearly already calculating.

Aorun nodded. “When we get there then, the task is yours.”
 Aorun strode out the room and his two men fell in behind him. They made their way through the trench to the first set of stairs to the upper level.  The stairs were widest here to accommodate for the great deal of goods that came up and down from tier to tier, be it laundry from the noble houses or simple foods going to the various markets. The guards were not as strict at this level during the day because of the amount of commerce, but matters tightened up at night. Aorun nodded to the guards.  He slipped them additional slips regularly. It was good to have the city guard’s good graces…Especially those guardsmen that might need to look another direction every now and then.

The trio entered the second tier with the same ease. They held up their merchant passes as a matter of routine: the guard knew them and waved them through.
 The three men were silent as they moved through the city. There was always someone in the trenches looking to move up, so when they were out of the manor, they were ever watchful.  People parted to go around them. Aorun liked this display of fearful respect, he didn’t mind ruling through fear. Actually, he rather liked it, and failed to see how Sordith would get this jeweler to pay up without it.

When they reached the jeweler’s shop, each of the three stepped in. There was no one in the shop at the moment, but soon the curtain parted and an older man stepped through. Owen turned and pulled the curtains closed, a sign that the shop was closed. He then leaned his large frame back against the door to keep anyone from opening it. Aorun moved to the right, hand on his sword, but took the position of the silent enforcer, a role he’d played often when he was not yet Trench Lord. His eyes, however, were on Sordith.

Sordith stepped up to the board that separated him from the jeweler. “Ah, good day...good day, Master Jespeth. How are you this fine day?” Sordith had a wide smile.

“It was a good day, but I suspect my fortunes may have just changed.” He eyed Owen and Aorun with distaste.

Sordith followed his gaze and waved in dismissal. “Pay them no mind, they are here for my protection.”

“So you say. What can I do for you? I fear you have me at a disadvantage, as you have my name and I do not know yours.” Jespeth’s eyes came back to Sordith, but he still looked wary. He was a small man with a balding head and daring eyes.