“One way to find out,” Hallic told her. “Let's check Darlheim's quarters.”
They walked over to the door and the rogue leaned up against it, listening for any sounds.
“It's quiet,” he said. “Not that that means anything.”
Mel watched anxiously as Hallic slowly pushed down on the door handle and gave it a gentle shove. The door opened with a faint squeal and both rogues stepped back and waited.
Inside of the guildmaster's office, a single light was glowing on the wall behind the desk. The room was a mess. Books and pieces of parchment littered the floor, as if someone had searched the shelves frantically looking for something.
“What in the Seven Hells happened here?” Mel asked as she gaped at the mess.
“Myler, or more likely Corbin, wanted something that Darlheim had,” Hallic replied as he slowly entered the room. “Something hidden. What it was is anybody's guess. He kept secrets from everyone, including me.”
They carefully stepped over the piles of books, searching for any traps or other dangers.
“The room's clear,” Hallic said once they had reached the desk. “I'll ask Rendin to examine this whole place more carefully, see if he can make sense of it. Maybe he'll get lucky.”
Mel nodded absently as she walked past him and reached the open door that led into the bedchamber. She peered through it and sighed loudly.
“I was right,” she said as she glanced back at her father. “Myler never left Darlheim's quarters.”
Hallic looked over and then moved quickly to join Mel at the doorway.
Inside of the bedchamber, another dull light lit the room, illuminating a chaotic scene.
Bodies. Bodies everywhere. Mel counted at least six dead dwarves sprawled here and there in the room. Their faces were twisted into expressions of agony and fear. There was dried blood staining the floor and walls and several bodies had been almost torn to pieces.
“On the bed,” Mel told Hallic with a nod toward the large four-poster.
Hallic moved past her and entered the room. He stood for a moment and looked around, searching for any traps.
“Looks safe enough,” he said over his shoulder. “But don't bother coming in, Mel. It's a charnel house now. A room for the dead.”
Myler's corpse was lying face-up, its eyes staring blindly at the ceiling. His throat had been cut and his last expression was one of complete surprise.
“If this is how Corbin and his witch reward others for their service, I doubt that they will have a lot of people flocking to their banner,” Mel said, her voice thick with loathing. “Myler did their bidding and was killed for it.”
“Don't underestimate the stupidity of others,” Hallic told her as he stared at Myler's body. “No one will know about this except for us. Corbin will probably tell a tale of his brave followers dying in his name deep in the bowels of the evil rogues guild. Or some such nonsense. As we've learned, he is smarter than we ever would have believed.”
He turned away in disgust and left the room. Mel followed him and they left the guildmaster's quarters.
“I doubt that the prince is the smart one,” she told her father as they moved past the bodies of the guards. “That witch, Cindra, is the real leader of this movement now, I believe.”
“You may be right.”
They walked back to the elevator and Hallic pushed the button next to the shaft.
“Our people are in charge again,” he said as they heard the machinery in the shaft rumble to life. “We'll double the security at all entrances and I will speak with Larin to see if he has any magical means to further seal the guild. We must make sure that our people are safe before we can take the fight to Corbin, wherever he may be now.”
“I agree,” Mel replied as she watched the elevator car descending toward them. “But you know what the others really want, don't you? You as guildmaster.”
Hallic grimaced and she laughed at his expression.
“Come now, Father. You know I'm right. Reassure the guild members that the leadership is secure and they will be more willing to fight back against the threats to us and to the empire.”
The elevator stopped and the gate opened. Inside, Rendin and a handful of others were standing there, smiling at Hallic and Mel.
“Good news, I take it?” Rendin asked as the group piled out of the elevator car.
“I suppose so,” Hallic said. “Myler is dead, as is his small group of traitors.”
“And the trap that killed the two young rogues?”
Hallic exchanged a look with Mel.
“We neutralized it,” he said evenly. “The guildmaster's quarters are safe now. Rendin, assign some volunteers to clean up the mess in there, please. There are about a dozen corpses that have to be disposed of. And the office has been torn apart. See if you can tidy it up and try to figure out what they were looking for, won't you? If you can, let me know.”
“Certainly,” Rendin assured him. “And will you step into Darlheim's shoes now and take the title of guildmaster?”
Mel smiled at her father and gave him a subtle wink.
Hallic sighed and seemed to slump in defeat.
“Fine. Fine,” he told the group. “I'll accept the post.”
There was a cheer from all of them and Hallic held up his hands to quell the celebration.
“But I only accept the position on the condition that we now come together as a guild and work to secure the headquarters and defend the empire against Corbin and any other traitors. Will you all agree to that?”
Rendin looked at the others, many of whom were nodding enthusiastically.
“We agree,” he told Hallic. “And speaking for myself, I'd say that it is about time. I do not want to totally give up my independence, but while we are all rogues, we are also patriots. We will follow your lead, Hallic.”
“Good. Then let's get started. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”
For the next several hours, the rogues guild buzzed with activity. Hallic sent runners out to all corners of the guild to inform the residents of the change in leadership. He also ordered that the guards be doubled at all of the entrances.
“What story should we tell our people about Darlheim's death and the rest of it?” Rendin asked him.
They had returned to Hallic's quarters. He wanted to try to rest a bit and work out his strategy for the future. Mel and Rendin were the only other people who were with him.
“Tell them the truth,” Hallic replied absently as he sat in his favorite armchair, scribbling notes on to a long piece of parchment. “He was murdered by Myler and his cronies in an attempt to seize power. And now they're dead. End of story.”
Rendin and Mel were sitting on the sofa across from Hallic. They exchanged a quick glance and Mel leaned forward, elbows on her knees.
“And that's all, Father?” she asked. “Seriously? It's going to get out quickly that Myler and the others were slaughtered. You know how rumors fly around here. You have to get ahead of the stories quickly and tell our side of things. If you don't, the others will remain unsure and doubtful going forward.”
She looked at Rendin again and smiled wryly.
“Of course, we can leave out the part about the fight with the daemon,” she added.
Hallic had waited until they were alone to tell his old friend about his confrontation with the daemonic entity that had been stationed outside of the guildmaster's quarters. He hadn't wanted to start a panic.
“I agree,” Rendin said. “Our people still aren't familiar with magic and evil powers and all of that. They once were, according to old texts, but that was back in ancient times. Now? Now we have to catch up with the new reality.”
He shook his head in disbelief, his gold earring glittering in the warm light of the room.
“Daemons. Imagine that? And witches and dark spells and the gods know what else. It's like we are suddenly living inside of a children's fable, isn't it?”
“More like a horror story if you ask me,”
Mel replied.
She looked over at her father, who was still frowning down at the parchment in his lap.
“Well?” she asked him.
Hallic finally looked at the both of them. He raised an eyebrow and tapped his chin with his pen.
“Well what? What exactly would you like me to do?” he asked them.
“Lead, damn it!” Rendin exclaimed. “No offense, Guildmaster, but sitting here on your arse isn't going to inspire your people. You need to be doing something.”
Hallic made a face when called guildmaster, but remained silent. He locked eyes with Mel, who frowned back at him.
“What is going on in that devious mind of yours, Father?” she asked him. “I'm sure that you aren't just tired from your run-in with that daemon. You're planning something, aren't you?”
“Of course I am. You know, the two of you really need to learn patience,” Hallic told them. He sounded a little exasperated. “I can't just go tearing around the guild as if my hair was on fire. That wouldn't exactly inspire the others, now would it?”
He raised the long sheet of parchment and shook it slightly.
“If you want to know what I'm doing, I'm mapping out a plan for the guild going forward. Once this place is secure, we are going to have to send out messengers to all of the guild-houses across the empire, informing them of the change in leadership. And we have to warn them that magical forces are being used against us.”
He looked down at the parchment, running a finger across it as he murmured to himself.
“All of the masters that I have listed here are to be contacted,” Hallic said as he scanned his notes. “Personally. Rendin, I want our most senior members to travel to each guild-house, understood? No apprentices, no juniors. Experienced rogues only.”
“Right,” Rendin replied with a nod. “Leave it to me.”
“And none of them is to travel alone,” Hallic added, giving his friend a dark look. “They will be prime targets for Corbin and his witch, so all of the messengers must have someone with them to watch their backs.”
“Understood. And what message would you like them to pass on?”
Hallic stood up and stepped forward. He handed the parchment to Rendin and returned to his seat.
“I've written it down beneath the list of masters. Have it copied out exactly as written. And encode it. You know how.”
Mel looked at the two dwarves and pursed her lips.
“Darlheim mentioned this special technique for passing along secret messages,” she said to her father. “Why haven't I ever heard of it?”
“Because you didn't need to,” Hallic replied with a grin. “You are a master rogue, Mel, but aside from training a few apprentices, you've avoided accepting more, shall we say, onerous responsibilities. You hate paperwork and all of that, so you never needed to learn the technique. Well, you'll have to learn it now, I suppose, if we're going to be passing secrets among the leadership. About time, I'd say.”
Rendin was smiling widely at her and Mel rolled her eyes.
“Fine then,” she said irritably. “I'll do that. You are right, though. I'm not someone who spends time writing notes and reading lists. I'd rather be working out in the field, not in some dusty office.”
“You'll be doing plenty of that,” Hallic assured her. “The next few weeks and months will probably be hectic, to say the least. Rendin,” he said as he looked at his friend. “Go ahead and get the messengers organized. You have full authority to assign anyone you wish and, if they start whining, tell them that they can come to me and complain face to face. I'll sort them out.”
Rendin stood up and laughed.
“With a threat like that, I doubt that any of them will be whining long.”
He rolled up the parchment and slipped it into an inside pocket of his tunic.
“I'll get right on this,” he told Hallic. “And I'll let you know when everyone's been sent off.”
He left the room and closed the door behind him. Mel got up and bolted the door securely. At Hallic's curious look, she shrugged.
“Can't be too careful,” she said as she sat down again.
“True enough.”
“So, do you have an assignment for me as well?” Mel asked him.
Hallic sat back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. He sighed wearily and Mel was once again granted a look behind the mask that her father would never let anyone else see. And again she felt fiercely protective of him.
He may be the only hope we have to keep our empire together, she thought suddenly. Shandon may be the king, but it will be those of us working in the shadows who will secure his throne. I wonder if he knows that?
“Yes, I have a task for you,” Hallic said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. “An important one. I need you to head back to the palace and tell Shandon and Larin what has happened here. The king needs to know that the guild is still loyal to him, and Larin has to be told about the daemon that I faced and what Corbin and his witch tried to do here. Let them know that I've taken steps to warn all of the guild-houses and that the masters will begin searching for the prince all across the empire, as far as our influence will allow us.”
“You do realize that it's the middle of the night, don't you?” Mel asked him.
“My old bones do,” Hallic replied with a smile. “Once you're gone, I'm going to try to rest for an hour or two. I think that sleep will be a rare commodity from now on, so I might as well get as much as I can now.”
“Good idea.”
Mel stood up and walked to the door.
“Lock this behind me,” she told her father. “The guild may be secure...”
“But I shouldn't take any chances. Thanks, I know that.”
Hallic smiled at her and then his expression became more serious.
“Watch yourself out there,” he warned. “We don't know if any other forces loyal to Corbin are still operating within Kingstone. But if there are any, you would make a fine prize for him and his witch if they captured you.”
“Let them try,” Mel said, her voice edged with steel. “They still owe me for killing Darlheim and Ethen. And that debt will become due soon enough.”
She bid her father farewell and left the room, closing the door after her.
Hallic got up and slid the bolt shut. He leaned against the cold metal of the door for a moment and closed his eyes, fatigue washing over him.
“And now the real fight begins,” he muttered.
Chapter 13
It's amazing how quickly things can change in the space of a few weeks.
That thought occurred to Mel as she huddled behind a pile of crates in a back alley in Cindercore. Several hours before, she had arrived in the city to meet with Annia, the head of the local rogues guild. Now she was on the run and trying to survive.
Hallic had sent her personally because Annia had been the first master to inform Darlheim about trouble within the guild. That message had led to his death and to the death of Ethen, Mel's former apprentice. So when another note had been delivered to headquarters from Cindercore, Mel had insisted on traveling there herself.
Kingstone had been secured and word had been sent out to all guild chapters across the empire to step up security and to look for any sign of the traitorous prince. So far, the only lead that they had gotten was the message from Annia. All it had said was that she needed to meet with someone from headquarters face to face. Mel had volunteered for the assignment.
And now here I am, she thought as she crouched in the shadows and listened intently. Running from whatever creatures had been waiting for me outside of the guild-house.
Mel mentally kicked herself for being stupid. She had approached the entrance to the guild-house openly, like a witless child, and had barely managed to escape a surprise attack. Something misshapen had leaped from the roof of a building directly on top of her and only her trained reflexes had enabled her to break away from her assailant and retreat.
She would have tried to kill whatever ha
d jumped her, but the sound of two other heavy thuds somewhere behind her attacker had told her that it was not alone. And so she had run.
Whatever that thing was, it wasn't a dwarf, she thought with a shudder. Its touch had been icy cold and the stench that it emitted was the thick smell of death and decay. It was as though she'd been attacked by something long dead.
Just the thought of it filled her with horror. Surely she was imagining that. The light had been too dim for her to see her opponent clearly and it had radiated no body heat. It could just have been an underling of Corbin's, but whoever or whatever it was, it had friends and they were all after her.
Mel could hear nothing but the distant sounds of running water. Cindercore was unique in that it had a series of canals running through it, fed by underground streams. Many dwarves in the city could actually handle a boat and some could even swim. Such things were virtually unknown outside of the city.
Hallic had insisted that Mel learn to swim when she was very young. A useless skill as far as she had been concerned, but one she dutifully acquired nonetheless. There was a large cistern in Kingstone and Mel and her father had visited it several times at night for swimming lessons. Back then it had seemed like a waste of time to the young dwarf, but she'd had to admit that swimming was actually a lot of fun. She didn't tell her father that, but she was sure that he'd known.
I may need to use that skill soon, Mel thought as she slowly began to creep along the base of the wall beside her. There's a canal at the end of this alley and I may have to swim across it if I've been followed here.
The alley was only a dozen feet wide. The stone walls of two houses rose high above it. The walls were flat and featureless and Mel could find nothing to grab on to that would allow her to climb out of the alley on to a roof. No, she could either go back the way that she had come, or go forward. And going forward meant swimming.
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