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Traitors' Fate

Page 2

by Andy Peloquin


  Ustin complied, his expression grim.

  "Now," Ilanna snarled, "imagine that was your mother, your sister, your daughter."

  "Don't have no daughter," Ustin muttered, a weak attempt to argue.

  "But if you did, is that a fate you would want for her?" she snapped, her voice rising in anger. "Enslaved, mind ravaged by Bonedust, body sold to any man with a few copper bits?"

  Ustin dropped his eyes.

  "Look at them, Ustin!" Ilanna shouted. Though the Bloodbear towered head and shoulders over her, he flinched at the intensity of her fury. "Is this worth a few thousand golden imperials? Condemning these innocent girls to this manner of suffering? Surely even you are not that cruel."

  Ustin shook his head. "I-It's just that—"

  "Or could it be that you just don't care?" Ilanna glared up at him. "Has the Night Guild turned you into an unthinking, unfeeling monster who would rather earn a few coins at the cost of these girls' dignity?"

  "Dignity don't put gold in our pockets," the Bloodbear muttered. "Dignity don't pay our dues to the Guild or put food in our bellies."

  Ilanna fought back the urge to lash out. The huge man was ruled by the same mercenary greed she'd tried for years to stamp out. Her efforts had led to the improvement of the Night Guild, but some men never changed.

  "Then take this." She drew a purse and hurled it at his face. "This will more than cover the cost of your services."

  Face bright red, Ustin stared at the floor. He made no move to retrieve the fallen purse.

  "You may not agree," Ilanna said, her voice low and dangerous, "but remember who is the Master of the Night Guild and who is the Journeyman."

  Ustin lifted his eyes to meet hers. Momentary defiance flashed there, replaced a moment later by grudging acceptance. "Of course, Master Gold," he replied in a submissive tone. "Your orders will be carried out immediately."

  "Good." She gripped his arm as he moved away. "Remember, Ustin, the old House Bloodbear—the ruthless, self-serving, violent thugs who once were—is gone. Your mission is to serve and protect the people of Praamis. Especially people like these women who cannot protect themselves."

  "Yes, Master Gold," he said, bowing.

  She released his massive bicep, and he disappeared down the staircase.

  A Journeyman wearing the white-trimmed robes of House Hound slipped through the shadows of the warehouse toward her.

  "Did you get them all, Henley?" Ilanna demanded.

  The Hound's eyes slid away. "No, Master Gold. One managed to escape in the chaos. Killed Eskal in his flight."

  Ilanna clenched her fists. "Damn it!" She allowed her anger to show, but kept her sorrow hidden—they'd have time to mourn later. She'd tried her best to minimize casualties on her side. In eight years of raids, they'd lost fewer than twenty Journeymen. Every loss stung. She was the reason Eskal was dead. Worse still, his death meant one of the thugs had escaped.

  "But I've already dispatched half a dozen of my best Hounds to track him down," Henley said. "Master Fox has provided squads of Foxes to watch the city gates. Wherever he goes, we will find him."

  Ilanna nodded. "Good." She hoped he didn't hear the grief in her voice. "Journeyman Darreth will settle your accounts once it is done. Day rates, of course."

  "As you say, Master Gold." Henley bowed. "You've always treated House Hound fairly."

  And how did House Hound treat me not too long ago? Ilanna bit back the angry retort. During her years as a Journeyman of House Hawk, a Hound had blackmailed her, lied to her, and ultimately betrayed the entire Night Guild by siding with the Bloody Hand. He had paid for his treachery with his life—the memory of the night she killed him still haunted her nightmares—but even now she couldn't truly forget the fact that the entire House Hound had joined forces with the Bloody Hand. Neither could they, which explained their eagerness to curry favor with the Guild Master.

  "What should we do with them?" Henley motioned to the girls huddled against the wall.

  "Bring clothing, food, water, blankets, anything else they need. Get the ones in dire need of care to Tyman now, and bring the rest to the Guild before dawn."

  Henley frowned. "Such a large group will surely be noticed by the Praamian Guard. Certainly word of tonight's activities has reached Duke Phonnis by now."

  Ilanna shrugged. "Duke Phonnis and the Praamian Guard will not interfere with us. After all, we are doing their job for them."

  Henley raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  "Get them back to the Guild, Henley. All of them. See them taken care of."

  With a bow, Henley hurried away to comply.

  "So one got away, eh?" said a voice behind her.

  It took all of Ilanna's willpower not to flinch.

  "Hounds are tracking him," she replied through gritted teeth. She hadn't heard Errik's arrival; the Serpent had an uncanny knack for moving in utter silence. "But we got the rest."

  "Thugs, pimps, and hired hands." Disgust filled Errik's voice. "The real leader was probably the only one clever enough to escape."

  Ilanna nodded. "Bring them all to the Viper-Pit and get them to talk."

  The Serpent shrugged. "Doubt they'll know much, but I'll extract what answers I can."

  "Good," Ilanna said. "One of the girls upstairs said something about an antidote. At least, I think she did. She's in bad shape."

  "Antidote?" Errik raised an eyebrow. "For the Bonedust?"

  "That's my best guess."

  Errik's brow furrowed as he studied her.

  Ilanna glanced down at the blood spattering her clothing. "It's not mine."

  His face relaxed. "Ria?"

  "Upstairs. She's doing what she can to keep the girl alive until Tyman works his magic." She gave him a feral grin. "And, by the Mistress' own luck, a prize fell into our laps."

  Errik's eyebrow rose. "Oh?"

  Ilanna chuckled. "You're going to love this." Motioning for him to follow, she climbed the two flights of stairs to the upper room.

  Lord Illiran climbed to his feet as she entered. He'd managed to buckle his trousers and regain some of his composure. His chest puffed up in the pompous air nobility in his position adopted when speaking with the “common rabble” and he stared down his long hooked nose. "Now, see here—"

  Ilanna slapped him, a blow meant more for insult than injury. "What did I say, Lord Illiran?" She drew her dagger and waved it before his face. "I told you I had no intention of killing you, but I feel my mind changing."

  Hand pressed to his cheek, the nobleman stared at her, stunned.

  "I can, however, be convinced to let you walk out of here with everything left intact." The blade of her knife pointed toward his crotch. "In fact, I'm willing to be very reasonable. Or, as reasonable as you will be generous."

  "G-Generous?" Lord Illiran stammered.

  Ilanna nodded. "What is it the priests of Garridos tell us, my lord? 'The Apprentice rewards those who give to the needy with a pure heart free of avarice.' There are close to thirty of the truly needy gathered below. I believe a donation of five, no ten, golden imperials apiece would bring the Apprentice's most bountiful reward on your house."

  The nobleman's eyes went wide. "B-But this is extortion! Blackmail of the foulest sort!"

  Ilanna shrugged. "Call it what you will. I like to call it 'payment to keep my mouth shut and not tell King Ohilmos that Lord Illiran was working with the Bloody Hand.' You know his feelings on the matter."

  Lord Illiran blanched. "Working with…" His jaw dropped, and fear filled his eyes. "I will admit to taking pleasure here, but certainly not—"

  Ilanna's fist to his jaw cut off the rest of his sentence. "I'm certain you'll have a chance to plead your case before the King, Lord Illiran. Unfortunately, something tells me you'd rather this matter remained a secret. And I fear a formal trial is such a public affair." She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Who knows what other secrets would be uncovered?"

  Lord Illiran swallowed hard and gave a jerky, des
perate nod. "Very well!" he cried. He took a step back and bumped into the wall. "You will have it."

  "How truly kind-hearted of you, my lord," Ilanna said in a cheerful voice. "My friend here will be happy to escort you safely home and see that all the required funds are delivered to their destination. Alas, despite our best efforts, we have yet to drive out all the truly vile elements from Praamis."

  Illiran's eyes darted to Errik. The Serpent stood with his back against the wall, twirling a pair of throwing knives between the fingers of each hand. The nobleman's gaze followed the blades until Errik tossed them up, caught them, and sheathed them in his belt with one smooth motion. Illiran flinched as Errik stepped forward.

  The Serpent only gestured toward the door. "This way, my lord."

  With a venomous glance at Ilanna, the nobleman left. Errik shot her a mischievous grin before following. A moment later, jeers and shouts echoed from the warehouse below. The Journeymen had clearly recognized Lord Illiran.

  Ilanna turned to Ria. "How is she?"

  The dark-skinned girl shook her head. "I do not believe she will live to see the morning." She pressed a hand to the girl's forehead while checking her pulse with the other. "The Bonedust has weakened her heart."

  Ilanna came to stand beside Ria and squeezed her shoulder. "How long?"

  Ria didn't look up. "Soon." Tension knotted her muscles, and she spoke in a voice of controlled fury. Ilanna had rescued her in a place much like this one. Clearly, she still wrestled with the memories.

  "We will stay with her, then."

  With a nod, Ria sat on the bed and leaned over the emaciated figure. She sang, the same haunting melody she had sung to Kodyn when he was a child. Though Ilanna didn't understand the words, in Ria's native Ghandian, the mournful tune needed no translation. She clasped Ria's hand and closed her eyes, waiting for the dying girl to take her final breath.

  Chapter Two

  Ilanna sank into the plush chair with a tired sigh and rested her feet on the massive wooden desk that had belonged to her predecessor, the former Master Gold. She needed a few minutes of rest before—

  "Ah, there you are, Guild Master." The grating voice of Darreth, her aide and former Journeyman of House Scorpion, cut into the silence of the office.

  Ilanna opened her eyes to see the slim, sharp-featured man rushing toward her, a stack of parchments and a leather-bound tome clutched in his long fingers. She held up a hand. "Darreth, I've had a bloody long night, and haven't slept in two days. I'm not going to stare at another of your Keeper-damned ledgers until I get some food, rest, and something strong to drink."

  Darreth tsked and fidgeted with his spectacles. "But Master Gold, there are important matters to discuss before the Guild Council meeting tomorrow."

  As ever, his eyes failed to meet hers, instead hovering just over her right shoulder. His body quivered with a nervous energy and his fingers never stopped moving. He had his quirks, but they didn't stop him from being a capable administrator. On the contrary, he was the real mind that kept the Night Guild running smoothly, the ledgers balanced, and the coins flowing in and out of the Guild's coffers. Sadly, he insisted on trying to get her to do her job as Master Gold—a damned inconvenience at the moment.

  "Does it have anything to do with that coat-of-arms-looking symbol I sent back?"

  Darreth shook his head. "I've set a few Scorpions to digging, but it'll take time. I can tell you straight off that if it is a crest, it doesn't belong to any noble of Praamis I know of. Perhaps a member of a minor house, or from another city. Either way, I won't have an answer for you immediately."

  "So be it." She rubbed her eyes. "These 'important matters', then, are they something you can handle for me?"

  The Journeyman harrumphed. "I've already handled everything I can, Guild Master. If I could distract you from your play long enough to pay attention…" He trailed off, making no attempt to hide his displeasure at her lackadaisical attitude toward what she considered the "mundanities" of her position.

  She raised an eyebrow. "You know, Darreth, for an aide, you've got a lot of attitude."

  Darreth snorted. "For a Guild Master, you seem to find an awful lot of ways to distract yourself from your true duties." He sighed and set the stack of parchments on the table in front of her. "I've made notations on everything truly vital for you to know. Read over these and sign them. Before your next adventure, if you please."

  Ilanna gave a theatrical groan.

  Darreth rolled his eyes. "If you need me, Master Gold, I'll be right outside. Perhaps some food and drink would improve your mood?"

  "My mood was just fine until you brought me this bloody paperwork." She waved him away. "But yes, do have food and drink sent in."

  "As you wish." With a bow, Darreth shuffled from the room.

  Five minutes of mind-numbing work later, Ilanna wished for the thousandth time she'd never accepted the position as Master Gold. She'd done so with the hopes of improving the Night Guild, but who knew there would be so much drudgery involved?

  Her eyes wandered the finery filling the office: the colorful oil painting of Praamis hanging in an oak frame, the plush couch, thick carpet with its intricate details, and the ornamental sconces that almost made her forget that the walls were hard-packed earth. The trappings of Guild Master came with too heavy a burden.

  She shoved the paperwork aside. If I have to deal with one more Keeper-accursed balance sheet, I'm going to murder someone. Thankfully, she had a few Bloody Hand captives she could vent her anger on.

  A knock sounded at her door. "Come in," she called. The sight of Ria brought a smile to her face.

  The last eight years had treated Ria with a great deal of kindness. Her dark skin seemed to glisten in the soft glow of the alchemical lamp, giving her an exotic appearance further enhanced by her long nose, full lips, and kinky black hair. Thanks to Tyman's ministrations, the burn scars on her face—courtesy of the Bloody Hand's attempt on Ilanna's life—were only visible in direct light. She moved with a willowy grace that had grown more predatory in the last years, since beginning weapons training with Errik and his Serpents.

  "Am I disturbing something important, Guild Master?" Ria asked, her voice teasing.

  "Nothing is too important I can't take a moment with you." Ilanna stood and came around the desk, sweeping Ria into an embrace. The girl's strong arms held her tight for a long moment. "How are you?"

  Ria frowned. "I'm fine, Ilanna. You shouldn't worry—"

  "But I do." Ilanna gripped her hands. "That look in your eyes, back in the brothel, it's hard for you to go into those places."

  "It is," Ria admitted. "Every time I see those girls, it reminds me of…" She swallowed. "…of what was done to me."

  Ilanna squeezed, and Ria returned the grip with force.

  "But that is why I go," the dark-skinned girl continued. "Why I will be there every time until the Bloody Hand is driven out of Praamis. I will not let any more of these girls suffer as I did."

  "I know." Ilanna stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ria's lips. "I can't say I like the fact you're willing to risk yourself, but I know there's no sense trying to stop you.'

  "Risk?" Ria snorted. "Growing up on the grasslands of Ghandia, we feared the lion, the hyena, the night leopards. Those were true perils, and I braved them from the day I was born." She sneered. "These thugs are no more threat than the birds that feed on carrion, or the maggot that crawls on rotten fruit."

  Ilanna smiled. Ria had changed a great deal. Gone was the fearful young girl who slept with a dagger under her pillow. In her place was a strong woman, confident in her abilities, afraid of nothing. And that was half the problem. Ria's past, her suffering at the hands of the Voramians who had brought her in sexual slavery to Praamis, had taught her the price of weakness. She never backed down from anything or anyone. Ilanna worried that would one day get her killed. The Night Guild was not a forgiving place.

  Thankfully, Errik had agreed to train Ria, just as he had Ilanna. That much
brought her a sense of peace—Master Serpent was unrivaled in his House, and in the Night Guild. Some whispered that his skills surpassed even the Hunter, legendary assassin of Voramis.

  Ria slipped her hands free. "The girls are all in the Menagerie, and Tyman and his Scorpions are caring for them."

  "Excellent." Ilanna beamed. "Errik should be back from Lord Illiran's soon, and with him enough gold to give them at least a chance at a future."

  "You will speak to them, then?" Ria asked.

  "Of course, but tomorrow. Give them time to rest, recover." Her hands went around the girl's trim waist. "And I can think of nothing I'd like more than a few hours abed."

  Ria's eyes twinkled. "I suppose we could both use some sleep."

  Ilanna leaned forward and nuzzled Ria's neck. "Who said anything about sleep?"

  Ilanna pulled the silk robe, one of her few luxuries, tight around her body and kissed Ria's forehead. The dark-skinned girl didn't so much as stir. The previous night's raid had taken an emotional and physical toll on her.

  Pushing open the door to her chambers, she padded barefoot toward the Guild Master's desk—her desk now—and served herself wine from the carafe Darreth had delivered. She lifted the goblet to her lips, but hesitated. The previous Master Gold had been poisoned and stabbed, and she had been blamed for the murder. She would always think twice before drinking from a bottle she didn't uncork herself.

  Sighing, she downed the goblet's contents. Darreth was as much her minder as administrator; she doubted any but the most determined Scorpion would get poison past him. As far as she knew, she was on good terms with Tyman and House Scorpion.

  Keeper knows I've sent more than a fair share of business his way, what with these raids.

  Thoughts of the previous night's raid shattered her brief moment of happiness. They'd captured enough of the Bloody Hand's thugs to make it worth the effort. Then there were the girls they'd freed. She counted the night a success, yet it galled her that one man had escaped. If he was the ringleader, as she suspected, the Voramians' incursions into the city had been stymied but not halted.

 

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