The sound brought a sense of satisfaction to Ilanna. She turned to watch the boat burn. There was a horrible beauty to it, like a fire that burned away the Bloody Hand's taint on Praamis. It rankled that the leader had escaped, but she'd won a great victory tonight. They had Lord Stonecroft. They'd rescued over a hundred girls. That was enough.
For tonight. She fingered the sword hilt, tracing the crest. Tomorrow, the hunt for the man behind the operation would begin in full force. Whoever had done this to the innocent girls within the warehouse would suffer.
Chapter Four
"My brothers and sisters of the Night Guild, tonight we mourn."
Ilanna faced the crowd of hooded figures assembled before her. Close to three hundred Journeymen and apprentices stood in the Menagerie—their numbers had swelled in the last two years. Yet she saw only the faces of those who were not standing among them. The pale, lifeless faces of the eight men and two women lying on wooden biers in the heart of the Menagerie.
She clasped her hands behind her back much as the former Master Gold had. She lacked his eloquence, but she would do what she could to honor those who had fallen in the name of her crusade.
"Eight years ago, the Bloody Hand made the mistake of trying to wrest Praamis from our control. They sought to bring bloodshed, chaos, and cruelty to our fair city. By the Watcher's grace, we defeated them and reclaimed the Night Guild."
She imagined the hate-filled glares many of the assembled Journeymen directed at her. They had stood in Watcher's Square, prepared to swing from the hangman's noose. Thanks to her. She had brought the Duke's forces into the tunnels in a desperate attempt to drive out the Bloody Hand. They might have seen fit to elect her their Guild Master, but they would never forgive or forget all the deaths she had caused. These ten only added to her tally.
Her gaze fell on Errik. The Master of House Serpent sat on his ornate chair at the front of the assembled Journeymen, the other House Masters seated beside him. His face was hard, revealing nothing, but his nod encouraged her.
Swallowing, she squared her shoulders and held her head high. "Since that day, we have waged war on the Bloody Hand—a war fought in the shadows, one few in Praamis knew of." She raised a clenched fist. "Yet today, we triumph! The last stronghold of the Bloody Hand has been uncovered, and the rats driven from the nest. Better still, we have uncovered their ally in Praamis. Even now, Lord Mayharn Stonecroft stands in chains, and I have no doubt King Ohilmos will deliver the justice and retribution he so richly deserves."
Shocked mutterings ran among the crowd. Though few knew of the special relationship between the Guild Master and the Crown, the fact that Ilanna had earned a pardon from the King himself eight years earlier—not just for herself, but for every one of them—had given rise to plenty of rumors. Ilanna made little attempt to quash the whisperings. Ria had listening ears among every House in the Night Guild that would warn of any plotting or betrayals.
But tonight was not about politics or power. Tonight, they assembled to honor the slain.
"We have all suffered losses." She spoke in a quiet voice, one heavy with emotion. "Friends, comrades, and allies have fallen in our efforts to drive the Voramians from our city. These ten, our brothers and sisters, join the ranks of those who sacrificed for the good of Praamis."
A lump rose in her throat. She drew in a deep breath and fixed her gaze on the seated figures arrayed before her. "House Masters, step forward and speak the names of those we will honor this night."
Errik stood first. He stood between two biers, upon which lay a middle-aged man and a woman barely in her twenties. "Journeyman Verys and Journeyman Swaia of House Serpent."
Eden, Master Fox, joined them next. Despite her grey hair, her back remained straight, her shoulders broad, and she spoke in a strong voice. "Journeyman Cernal, Journeyman Rillick, Journeyman Ingen, and Journeyman Lerold of House Fox."
Shaw, Master Hound, was a tall, lanky man with sallow cheeks and sunken eyes. "Journeyman Byl and Journeyman Imdris of House Hound."
Poltor, Master Bloodbear, towered a full head taller than her, and he spoke in a coarse voice thick with emotion. "Journeyman Huall, Journeyman Llir, and Journeyman Dellum of House Bloodbear."
Ilanna knew the names of every one that had fallen; the ceremony was for the rest of the assembly. Once, the deaths would have gone unnoticed, unmarked even by the Houses of the fallen. But she had striven for change, for a better Night Guild. Death came to all eventually—the least she could do was honor those who had died to protect the innocent.
"These ten brave men and women fell in honorable service." Her words were measured, her tone somber. "Not in the pursuit of coin, but to protect those who are unable to protect themselves. There is no cause more noble, no death more worthy. By their sacrifice, these ten have made Praamis a better place for the rest of us. For our children…"
Her voice cracked. She had nearly lost her son to the Bloody Hand. Ria, too. No one else would die, not if she could help it. She'd do whatever was necessary to ensure the Voramians left them alone for good.
She cleared her throat and tried again. "For our children, and for those who remain to mourn them. We honor them this night. We honor them with our silence."
She bowed her head, and everyone in the Menagerie did likewise. The silence stretched on for a full minute before she spoke again.
"We honor them with our blood." She drew a small knife from her belt and cut a thin slash along her forearm. She stood over each body in turn, letting a single drop splash on each cold forehead. The House Masters added their blood to the bodies of their fallen Journeymen.
"We honor them with our wrath." She raised a fist. "Death to the Bloody Hand!" she shouted.
Every person in the Menagerie took up the cry, until the walls rang with the force of their collective anger.
When the shouts died down, Ilanna continued in the same solemn voice. "We honor them with our memories. For though they are with the Long Keeper, they will never be forgotten." She pointed to a brass plaque set into one of the earthen walls of the Menagerie. "Their names will be inscribed alongside the rest of the fallen, where they will look down upon us with pride at all that we will achieve because of them."
Twenty-six names were carved into the metal, each belonging to a Journeyman or an apprentice slain in the war on the Bloody Hand.
She placed her hands on the foreheads of the two fallen Serpents and bowed her head. "May you find rest and comfort in the arms of the Long Keeper."
Ilanna toyed with the mask the Bloody Hand leader had discarded. The funeral services had left her in a somber mood, but she couldn't get the odd-textured thing off her mind. She marveled at its lifelike feel, its malleability, even the coloring. It felt and looked exactly how she imagined skin would.
She racked her mind. The familiar feeling nagged at her, but no matter how much she poked and prodded it, she couldn't figure out where she'd encountered it before.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Enter," she called.
Darreth strode into the room, his eyes heavy and ringed with dark circles, as if he'd stumbled out of bed after too few hours of sleep. "Master Gold, I wish you would have told me of your return."
She dismissed his complaint with a wave. "Watcher knows you've got enough work for four Journeymen, so I figured you could use a few more minutes of rest." Truth be told, she'd been so consumed with the funeral and the mystery of the strange substance she hadn't given him a thought at all. "But the fact that you're here means you want or need something."
Darreth pursed his lips. "Aside from the payments requested by Houses Fox, Bloodbear, Hawk, and Hound, there's still the matter of what to do with those recovered in the recent raids on the Bloody Hand." He glanced at his ledger. "By my count, there are one hundred and fifty-seven souls depending on us to feed, clothe, and house them. Then, of course, there's the matter of those who expressed a desire to leave. You promised them coin and supplies."
Ilanna nod
ded. "I did. And that promise will be honored."
"Indeed. And Errik…er, Master Serpent delivered the funds generously contributed by Lord Illiran, but that was for the initial thirty-three recovered two nights ago. The fact that…" He consulted his list. "…eighteen have chosen to join our ranks means the coin will cover the cost of sending home many of those recovered last night, but not all."
"So be it," Ilanna replied. "If my stipend as Guild Master is insufficient to cover it, you have full authorization to access my personal funds."
Darreth winced. "Master Gold, I must counsel against—"
She cut him off. "Until such a time as we find alternate methods of financing this endeavor, I will do what I must to see these girls made whole. If I cannot protect them here in the Guild, the least I can do is offer them coin to speed them on their way home."
Despite Darreth's clear displeasure, he bowed. "As you say, Master Gold." He tapped his lips. "Perhaps Master Serpent could pay another visit to Lord Illiran? I'm certain he can be convinced to make another charitable contribution to such a worthy cause." His eyes twinkled the way they always did when he had a clever idea. "His family is renowned for their generosity to the House of Need and the Sanctuary. Surely he would see the benefit of this investment."
Ilanna nodded. "See it done."
Darreth bowed but made no move to leave.
"Is there something else?" she asked.
Darreth opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"In all the years we've worked together, Darreth, I've learned that the only time you hesitate to say something is when you would rather hide the truth from me. Either because of bad news, or because you're concerned I'll do something rash."
Darreth inclined his head. "If memory serves, you have been impetuous from time to time."
Ilanna scowled. "I'd like to think I was audacious, bold even."
"Call it what you will," Darreth replied, his face a blank, "but the results are the same. Given your current position as Master Gold, I'd hope you would—"
"Whatever it is," she said in an exasperated tone, "spit it out before I lose my patience. You have my word that I will carefully consider the information before acting."
With a sigh, Darreth produced a piece of parchment from within his ledger. "I believe I have uncovered the origin of the crest you sent me to study."
Ilanna bolted upright in her chair. "You did? Show me."
He placed the parchment on the desk before her. "This particular crest belonged to one Lord Torath."
Ilanna studied the image. Twin axes were crossed over a raven, emblazoned on a red oval-shaped escutcheon.
"These axes," she tapped the weapons, "they're not the same as the ones I saw on the Bloody Hand's barrels." The ones on the crest before her resembled woodsmen's axes, with a narrow blade and solid, flat butt. The axes painted onto the barrels were battle axes, with a longer, heavier blade and spiked butt.
"From what I understand," Darreth said, "these particular weapons are common among the barbarians across the Frozen Sea."
Ilanna raised an eyebrow. The thought of Darreth knowing anything about weapons surprised her.
He sighed. "Master Serpent was kind enough to point out the difference. But it lines up with the stories of Lord Torath. It is said that he earned his title as a reward for valor in the execution of his military duty, which is precisely the heraldic meaning behind the crossed axes." He tapped the raven with a slim finger. "In heraldry, the raven signifies knowledge and divine providence, but also is an homage to the Long Keeper, god of death. If the stories are true, Lord Torath single-handedly slew seven hundred Eirdkilr barbarians after they slaughtered his comrades."
Ilanna sat back in her chair. "Death-bringer, indeed."
Darreth shrugged. "Stories like that tend to be vastly overblown, but whatever the case, Lord Torath's actions earned him a patent of nobility from the King."
"But you said 'belonged' a moment ago. I take it that means Lord Torath's noble house is no more?"
"Correct," Darreth said, nodding. "Or so my sources have discovered. Twenty years ago, the last Lord Torath succumbed to the Bloody Flux, followed by his wife and only son. With no family members to take on the title, the properties and holdings of House Torath reverted to the Crown."
Ilanna frowned. "But you think this crest is the same?" she asked.
Darreth hesitated. "The similarities cannot be ignored." He tapped the parchment. "The red oval escutcheon could be reflected in the red paint used on the barrels. The battle axes could simply be a more modern reflection of the primitive barbarian axes used for the old crest. If I may hazard a guess, the rising position of the black raven is much the same and may indicate someone is trying to resurrect House Torath."
Ilanna considered the information. During her years as Master Gold, she'd been forced to learn more about the noble houses of Praamis. In many ways, they were her political equals. The Night Guild was as much a power in the city as any lord, simply one that operated from the shadows. They traded in theft, extortion, and murder rather than gold, silk, or cattle. She'd never heard of House Torath, but she trusted Darreth.
"Can you prepare a report for me to take to King Ohilmos and Duke Phonnis?" she asked. "They will want to know that one of their noblemen is…" She trailed off, her eyes narrowing at the sudden set of his jaw and stony expression. "What are you not telling me?"
Darreth sighed. "House Torath is not under the rule of King Ohilmos." He hesitated a moment before speaking. "It is a noble house of Voramis."
Voramis. The word echoed in her mind.
The Bloody Hand controlled Voramis; indeed, they ruled the city in all but name. Their city guard, the Heresiarchs, turned a blind eye to their crimes out of fear or was simply paid off. It was said nothing happened in Voramis that the Bloody Hand didn't orchestrate, approve, and profit from.
"I will remind you, Master Gold," Darreth said, "you promised not to make any hasty decisions."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"In all our years working together, I've learned exactly what that look on your face means. You're going to come up with a hare-brained plan that puts everything in danger."
Ilanna scowled up at him. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten how I ended up being chosen for Master Gold."
"Which is precisely why I'm saying this. I can already see you planning on gallivanting off to Voramis."
Ilanna couldn't hide a grin.
"Damn it!" Darreth threw his hands up. "The Bloody Hand would love nothing more than to get their hands on you, and yet you insist on dancing straight into the dragon's mouth?"
"How many others in the Night Guild know their way around Voramis?" she asked.
"Master Serpent, for one. Many of the older Hounds as well."
"Which is why I'm bringing them with me," Ilanna retorted.
Darreth glared. "And if the Bloody Hand gets their hands on you?"
Ilanna shrugged. "They won't." She sounded more confident than she truly felt. "They'll never know I'm there. I'll wear a disguise if I have to, or—" She stopped.
A memory flashed through her mind. Graeme, an apprentice alchemist, had led them through the Temple of Whispers, the temple of the Secret Keepers in Voramis. In exchange for guiding them to find the alchemical ingredients she'd needed to steal from Lord Auslan, he had insisted she help him break into a room so he could steal a clay-like substance.
She picked up the mask and toyed with it, remembering Graeme's words. "Looks and feels as real as your own skin, yet can be manipulated however you want. Let’s just say the right client is willing to pay a fortune for such disguises."
Could it be? Graeme had stolen such a small chunk, but perhaps he'd managed to replicate it and sold it to “the right clients”. It could be pure happenstance, but years as a thief had taught her never to discard anything, no matter how coincidental.
That settled it. She had to go to Voramis, if nothing else than to look Graeme in the eyes when
she asked him about it.
She stood and strode toward the door.
"Damn it, Ilanna!" Darreth called from behind her. "You promised—"
"No, Darreth," she said without looking back, "I promised I'd carefully consider the information before acting. I have, and now I'm acting."
"But what of the Night Guild?" he demanded. "You cannot shirk your responsibilities as Master Gold."
She stopped now and turned to him. "Why, Darreth," she said with a saccharine smile, "that's why I have you!"
Errik shook his head. "Not a Keeper-damned chance, Ilanna." He folded his arms and leaned back in his plush chair. "No way I'm letting you anywhere the Bloody Hand can get their hands on you. You remember what happened last time we went to Voramis?"
Ilanna grinned. "Of course I do." She toyed with the velvet arm of her chair, a twin to Errik's. "But what's life without a bit of danger?"
"A long, happy one," Errik retorted. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Things have changed since the last time, Ilanna." He reached for the snifter of brandy—an affectation he'd grown quite fond of since taking control of House Serpent—and drained the rich, heady liquor in a single gulp. "We're both older, and I certainly thought wiser. Do you really think this is the smart play?"
Ilanna paused with her own crystal goblet at her lips. "Truth be told, I don't." She took a sip and winced at the sting of the brandy. "But I can't figure out any other way to do this."
Setting down her glass, she stood and paced. "If Darreth is right, we need to find out more about that crest. That means visiting the Royal Archives in Voramis and doing a bit of digging."
"I’m certain we could send a Scorpion to handle that."
"Certainly," Ilanna agreed, "but then what?" She toyed with the ornate carpet, imported from the Twelve Kingdoms, drawing patterns in the fabric with the toe of her boot. "Once we find out who's using this mark, we have to find him."
"Assuming he didn't drown in the Stannar River, of course," Errik interjected.
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