by AC Cobble
At the far side of the room was a staircase covered by a curtain. As Rew watched, one of the working girls stopped by one of the men and spoke a few words into his ear. Then, they both disappeared through the curtain up the stairs. A working girl and client going to complete a transaction, or were they going to inform someone that two armed men had arrived at the bar? The ale came, and Rew sipped his while Jon lifted a glass of spirits. The senior ranger raised an eyebrow.
“I need something strong,” muttered Jon.
“Keep your wits about you,” advised Rew, still leaning against the bar so he could survey the room.
It was several moments before the woman who had taken the man upstairs returned, and now she had another man with her who walked down from the stairs and found a couch to lounge on. The woman bent near the man, as if to kiss his cheek or to hear some instructions, then went back to circling the room, eventually finding her way to Rew and Jon.
“How are you doing today, gentlemen?” she asked, putting a hand lightly on Rew’s wrist, a floral scent wafting around her. “My name is Rachel.”
“The truth, it’s been a wild day,” responded Rew. “We got tangled up in the mess by the gates. I’m not ashamed to admit I needed something to steady my nerves. You heard about the attack by the Dark Kind? Several hundred narjags, it was.”
The woman bit her lip and nodded. “Terrifying. You fought them?”
“We did,” acknowledged Rew.
The woman shuffled closer, moving her hand from his wrist up his arm. “I’m glad you were here in Falvar, then. It looks like you were injured. Is it painful? A man like you, I bet you didn’t even notice. Why don’t we go to the baths? I can help clean you up and get you to relax a little. You feel so tense.”
“Maybe later,” said Rew. He tilted his ale mug so they could both look in and see it was half full. “I don’t want to waste a drop of this. Not sure I’ve ever wanted an ale more in my life.”
He winked at her and laughed. She smiled back at him, her lips curling, but her eyes looked like short bits of broken glass.
“Mind if I keep you company while you drink?” asked the woman, Rachel. “It’s quiet today, and I don’t want to let a man like you slip into the clutches of the others.”
“Sure,” said Rew, taking a sip of his ale.
“How’d you get drawn into the fighting?” wondered the woman. “You don’t have the look of merchant’s guards, and you’re not soldiers.” She let her hand drop from his face down to the hilt of his longsword. “A man doesn’t carry a blade like this unless he plans to use it. You don’t think you’ll need it in here, do you?”
Not answering her question, Rew raised his mug and quaffed the rest of his ale. “Maybe it’s time we find somewhere private. I’m aching for something to take my mind off the day, and you’re just about the prettiest thing I’ve seen since we got to Falvar.”
The woman smiled, turning away coyly, but there was no flush in her cheeks, and the glint in her eyes did not change. “To the baths?”
“Do you have a room upstairs?” asked Rew.
“For six silver an hour I do,” she said, turning back to him and leaning close. “Four if you bathe first, but either way, I’m worth every coin, I promise you.”
Rew turned to Jon, meaning to ask the younger ranger to stay downstairs at the bar, but the other man spoke up. “Is that six silver for both of us?”
“Both of you?” wondered the woman, looking back and forth between the two men.
Seeing no way to back out without raising suspicion, Rew simply shrugged.
“Fourteen for the both of you,” said the woman.
Rew frowned. “Come now, Rachel. That’s more than twice the rate for one. How about twelve, and we’ll buy you a drink?”
The woman eyed Jon up and down with a professional’s appraisal. She pursed her lips, put a finger to them, and then turned back to Rew with a wink. “Your friend doesn’t look like he’ll take long. Sure, twelve silver and a drink.”
Rew paid the barman for the most expensive glass of wine he’d ever bought and followed Rachel to the stairwell, Jon tight on their heels. From the corner of his eyes, Rew could see that a few of the other girls and several of the men in the room were watching them, but two men accompanying one girl upstairs wouldn’t be unique in such a place, even if it was unusual. The woman who was leading them gave no indication anything was wrong, so none of the watchers moved to stop them as they walked up the stairs and the curtain fell behind them. They reached the second floor of the place, and the woman turned down the hallway.
“Hold on,” said Rew, pointing to a door he was certain hid another flight of stairs. “What’s up there?”
“More rooms, more girls,” said Rachel, “but my room is on this floor.”
“Mind if we go and look?” asked Rew. “I’m curious if we can see the town gates from up there.”
“It’s just a bunch of rooms,” said the woman, stepping back toward him. “All of the girls on the third floor are asleep. They work late nights, and if we wake them, they’ll throttle me. Come on, you two. The hour started when we left the bar. If you want your coin’s worth, we’d better get started.”
“Just a peek upstairs,” said Rew. “I promise I won’t wake any of your, ah, colleagues.”
The woman shook her head and looped an arm around his waist. “The only thing you need to see is beneath this dress.”
“Are you worried about the thieves?” asked Rew, wrapping his arms around her.
The woman gasped and tried to wriggle out of his clutches, and when he didn’t let go, she screamed.
“Upstairs!” barked Rew, shoving her away and spinning toward the door.
He and Jon flung open the door and charged up the stairs to find a second door, this one a heavy, iron-bound barrier at the top. Rew shook the handle and found the door was locked.
“W-We could…” stammered Jon, as if saying the first part of the sentence would lead him to a solution. It didn’t. Lamely, he offered, “They’re probably all fleeing now. Maybe if we go outside, we can—”
Rew shook his head, hearing the sounds of stomping feet coming from below. “Getting out isn’t going to be easy. They’ve been watching us since we walked in here, ready to close the noose if necessary. With just the two of us… I’m hoping they’re curious who we are and will take the risk to question us.”
They didn’t have long to wait, as several men appeared below them on the stairs, compact iron crossbows in hand, deadly quarrels pointed directly at the two rangers.
“You boys have a key to this door?” asked Rew.
The thieves raised their crossbows, their fingers shifting near the triggers. None of them proffered a key to the door.
“Zaine sent me,” claimed Rew. “Said she’d found out something in the keep after the job was finished earlier today. She said the guild needed to know immediately.”
Behind the door, a bolt slid, then another, and another, and finally, the door swung wide open. A man was standing in the entrance. He commented, “That’s a lie.”
“It is,” agreed Rew, looking the man up and down.
He wasn’t one of the thieves they’d seen earlier, but he was dressed in similar attire. He was an older man, but his back was straight, and he held himself with the confident assurance he could still move quickly when he needed to. His appearance was unremarkable, which Rew assumed was the point. The man asked Rew, “What do you know about the job that took place earlier today?”
“Same thing that everyone does,” responded Rew. “Zaine helped your men inside. They killed two guards at the private gate. They killed Arcanist Ralcrist and shattered the crystal on his table with his own staff. That allowed high magic to be cast again in Falvar, which facilitated a spellcaster attacking the baron’s family, killing the baroness and scores of guards, and abducting the baron. Oh, and the spellcaster trapped a handful of wraiths as well before escaping by portal. Five of your men were killed in the operat
ion.”
“That’s the same thing everyone knows?” questioned the white-haired thief. “Not even I know all of those details.” He paused. “I suspect not even the leader of the job knows all of those details.”
“It sounds like we have something to talk about then, don’t we?” drawled Rew.
The man’s jaw bunched, as if he was chewing the thought over. Finally, he stepped back and gestured. “Come inside.”
They walked onto the third floor of the Two Eggs and found it was a giant room that extended the entire length of the building. There were a score of people there. They were mostly men, all dressed like burghers of Falvar, with a few women who could have been housewives of shopkeepers in the city. There was a rack of arms, a wall of closets Rew guessed were filled with supplies and disguises, a large table with several chairs arranged around it that could be used for guild meetings, and a woman in the center of the room bound to a chair.
“They’re going to kill you!” Zaine shouted to the rangers when she saw them enter. “Run!”
Beside her, the thief that Rew had seen in the arcanist’s tower turned and smiled at them.
The white-bearded man pointed for Rew and Jon to walk farther into the room, and they followed the instructions without complaint. The crossbowmen came up as well and spread out, keeping their weapons trained on the rangers.
“Axxon,” called the thief beside Zaine, “in a lucky turn of fortune, these are the only two men who can identify me. It seems as if our problems are all congregating here, begging to be solved.”
“Your problems,” murmured the older thief, Axxon. The guild leader, Rew guessed, from the easy way the man carried himself and the way the rest of the people in the room turned to follow his movement. “Though, it seems I have a problem as well. Everyone who is looking for you is coming directly to the right location. Why do you think that is, Balzac?”
“They found us, but they won’t get a chance to tell anyone about it,” claimed the thief beside Zaine.
Axxon turned to Rew. “How did you find us? Who told you the location of our guildhall?”
Rew smirked. “Finding you was simple luck. I’d seen your men traipsing through the market earlier today on the way to the keep. We started there and walked back, looking for a likely location.”
Axxon’s lips pressed tightly together.
“I have a few questions for you,” added Rew.
“And I a few for you,” replied Axxon. He put his hands behind his belt, tucking his thumbs into it, his stance tense. “First, who are you?”
“I’m the King’s Ranger of the eastern territory,” answered Rew.
“The King’s Ranger?” guffawed Balzac from beside Zaine. “A bit far away from your territory, are you not? The King’s Ranger has no authority in Falvar. Shouldn’t you be hiking in the wilderness or something?”
“I’ve taken temporary control of Falvar’s garrison in the absence of Commander Broyce and Baron Fedgley,” replied Rew calmly. Ignoring the startled reaction of the thieves, he walked in front of Zaine and told her, “I asked you to stay in the keep.”
“Perhaps I should have,” murmured Zaine, unable to meet his gaze. “Maybe that would have kept us both alive.”
Balzac chuckled, glancing around at his companions.
Rew looked to him and said, “Balzac, yes? I witnessed you murder two soldiers of the king as well as Arcanist Ralcrist. I’m afraid the penalty for those crimes is death, whether under the king’s law or the baron’s.”
Balzac grinned, pointing at Rew. “Is anyone else hearing this?”
“Did you come alone?” wondered Axxon from behind them.
“Just the two of us,” confirmed Rew.
“A rather bold plan, is it not, coming alone and threatening my thieves within our own guildhall?” questioned Axxon.
Rew met the man’s gaze. “I didn’t think I needed anyone else. Give me the girl and this man Balzac, and I’ll leave you in peace. I’m only taking command in Falvar until things settle and security can be reestablished by the proper authorities. I have no interest in your petty thefts, but I’m afraid I must respond to someone killing the baron’s arcanist as part of a plot to abduct the baron himself. At the moment, I only have proof that the Balzac was involved. He’ll hang for the crime, but until the baron’s soldiers are able to investigate the matter thoroughly, the rest of you will have time. I suggest you use it to flee.”
Axxon gestured to the trio of crossbowmen that were arrayed beside him, still pointing their quarrels at Rew. “I think you’ve miscalculated, Ranger.”
“The job did not go as planned, did it?” asked Rew, crossing his arms over his chest. “The spellcaster tricked you, as he did everyone. I’m guessing you had no idea the baron would be kidnapped, no clue the amount of attention this job would bring.”
Axxon tilted his head and acknowledged, “It did not go as we were told it would.”
Rew watched the man, seeing how he maintained control, breathing evenly, his gaze steady. The thief’s spine was straight as a rod, but his arms trembled slightly from the tension of clasping his hands behind his back. Rew was certain, beneath the thief’s still exterior, he was roiling inside. It was a familiar feeling. The leader of Falvar’s thieves’ guild would be uncertain, thrown off by a situation he’d never found himself in before. To survive the day, the ranger needed to keep the man off guard. He needed time to let the thieves’ tension eat at them like acid, clouding their minds, helping them make a mistake.
Rew told Axxon, “You said you had questions for me. Go ahead and ask them.”
“Who was the spellcaster?” asked the leader of the thieves’ guild.
“You did business with a man you did not know?” wondered Rew, shaking his head and looking at the other thieves in the room. “You risked everyone’s neck and you don’t even know who your client was? That does not sound like the thieves’ guilds I’m familiar with.”
Axxon grunted, and Rew saw his eyes flick toward Balzac.
Rew turned to Balzac, making sure all of the other thieves saw it. “Ah, I see.”
“Who was he?” questioned Balzac. “I was about to get that information from the girl, but—“
“She doesn’t know,” interjected Rew. He began walking, pacing in a wide circle around Balzac and Zaine. He didn’t come close enough to anyone for it to be perceived as a threat, but he wanted the thieves comfortable with his movement. As he walked, the thieves shifted, responding to him. Their hands stayed close to their weapons, but no one interfered. They wanted to know what he knew. “Zaine first met the spellcaster in the old mining tower north of here, the one that sits next to the Spine. He had traveled there on foot because he couldn’t portal into the Falvar. That crystal you destroyed in Arcanist Ralcrist’s chamber, it dampened high magic in the vicinity. It was protecting Baron Fedgley from men like this spellcaster.”
“What did you say the spellcaster’s name was?” asked Axxon.
Rew, still pacing, smirked at him. “The lass has only known the spellcaster for a few days. She only traveled with him down from the mining tower. I’ve known him for years. Almost my entire life, in fact.”
None of the thieves spoke.
“Let her go,” instructed Rew. “She cannot tell you what you want to know. She cannot tell you what you need to know if you plan to live through the night.”
“Are you threatening us?” snapped Axxon. “At my word, there will be three crossbow bolts sticking through your body, Ranger.”
“Maybe,” said Rew, “but I was not threatening you. I was merely pointing out that the man you are concerned about, the spellcaster, is exactly the man you should be worried about. He single-handedly killed forty of the baron’s soldiers earlier today in the keep. He blasted through the baroness’ defenses with ease and trapped the five wraiths the baron called. He portaled out of the throne room to escape, you know? If he can leave Falvar so easily, did it occur to you that he could return the same way? You are men beyo
nd the law. What would you do if you were elbow deep in a conspiracy and some of your associates still lived, and were talking to a man like me? Do you think the spellcaster will be content to let you keep his gold and spill his secrets, or do you think he’ll be back soon to tie up loose ends?”
The thieves as a whole shifted uneasily at that.
“Forty soldiers, the baroness who commanded substantial magic of her own, and the baron himself. Wraiths!” said Rew, still walking the slow circle. “The things I am telling you are easily verifiable if you do not already know them. Surely word has escaped the keep by now. Forty heavily armored soldiers are dead. The baron and his wife, both accomplished spellcasters. I see you have twenty men in this room. Do any of them happen to be exceptionally talented spellcasters? More talented than the baron himself?”
Axxon swallowed nervously.
“Everything I am telling you is true,” said Rew, forcing a smile onto his lips. “The spellcaster’s abilities are not in doubt. The only question I have is this. What do you think he will do once he’s locked the baron away somewhere safe?”
“Who is this man working for?” questioned Axxon.
“One of the three princes, of course,” replied Rew. He looked between Axxon and Balzac. “I was hoping you could tell me which.”
Both men stared back at him.
“How were you drawn into this conspiracy?” questioned Rew. “Who was your initial contact? An agent of the princes, I am sure, but I do not know which one. Not Prince Valchon. That’s who the spellcaster claimed he was working for, and he was lying. Was it Heindaw or Calb? Who hired the thieves’ guild of Falvar?”
“The—The princes?” stammered Axxon. “This is a conspiracy by the princes?”
“Yes,” said Rew, continuing his slow circuit of the room. “I’ve always felt it best to know who you’re getting into bed with, but I suppose with accommodations such as these…” He turned to Balzac. “You didn’t know who you were working for, did you? Someone contacted you, though. You must have a name. Who was it?”