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Soldiers of the Crown

Page 20

by Stephen L. Nowland


  “Is he otherwise okay, though?”

  “He is in high spirits,” Nellise assured him, “and it took some convincing to persuade him to remain at rest. I am confident he will be on his feet again by tomorrow, more than ready to serve.”

  “Alright Ronan, why don’t you take the lead on this one?” Aiden offered as he stood up, with the rest of the ladies following suit.

  “Is this likely to be a dangerous journey?” Maggie asked as she checked her small sword.

  “We’ll only run into trouble if Ronan left the guild on bad terms, right?” Aiden suggested, looking to Ronan for an answer. The sailor gave him a blank look for a long moment before speaking.

  “Yeah… yeah that’s right. Don’t worry, these people are thieves, not thugs,” he finally answered. For some reason Aiden wasn’t entirely convinced.

  * * *

  The day was clear and cold as they walked along the snow-covered streets of Fairloch, and Aiden was forced to squint against the intense light from the cloudless sky. Ronan led the way through the crowded streets, but managed to keep Sayana close by so he could point out features of interest.

  Despite rebuffing his earlier attempts, the wild girl seemed to be more relaxed in his presence, so the cunning sailor might actually be making some headway in his campaign. After nearly ten minutes of walking, it occurred to Aiden that they could probably have gone down one of the numerous drainage covers they’d passed.

  “Are we taking the scenic route?” Aiden asked of Ronan.

  “Not on purpose, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he shrugged. “Think of it as a fortunate coincidence.”

  “We’ve passed plenty of entrances.”

  “The information I was acquired is quite specific,” the sailor explained, “and we have to start from the correct location, or it’s worthless. Don’t worry, we’re nearly there.”

  Satisfied, Aiden dropped back to walk alongside Maggie, although part of him desperately wanted to listen in on what Ronan and Sayana were discussing.

  They passed through the gates leading into the docklands, and then took a sharp left turn down a narrow alleyway, ending the unofficial tour of the city. The clamouring noise of thousands of people receded into the background as they moved in-between buildings, most of which seemed to be as old as the city itself.

  After a few minutes of moving through the maze of alleyways, Ronan brought them to a stop at a large grating on the stone ground. It was larger than the others they had come across, and looking through the tight metal bars Aiden could make out a narrow ladder descending into the darkness below.

  “This is the place,” the sailor declared, looking at the unassuming grate with his typical mild interest.

  “How can you be sure your contact didn’t lie to you?” Aiden inquired cynically. “Maybe he just wants you to waste your time.”

  “He tried that at first, but I wasn’t fooled,” Ronan explained casually. “It took a bit of doing, but trust me — in the end, I got the truth.”

  “I don’t think I like the sound of that,” Nellise remarked sourly.

  “Then don’t listen,” Ronan advised in the same even tone, then crouched down and lifted the grate, propping it up with a short metal pole that was sitting just underneath the surface. He then stepped onto the ladder and made his way down into the darkness.

  The sounds of rushing water filled his ears and the noise echoed off the tunnels into the distance, but it was the stench that caught Aiden’s attention and flooded his senses. He had expected it to be bad, but not quite this bad. The unique aroma, combined with his pounding headache and unsettled stomach began to react in new and interesting ways, and he promptly threw up into the river of waste, conveniently located only a few feet away.

  “Don’t worry, I did plenty of that when I first started moving around down here,” Ronan confided, his breath misting in the chilly air. Aiden was a little too preoccupied to respond, but he appreciated the sentiment. By the time he had finished, the ladies had descended and were gathered nearby, waiting for him.

  “Sorry about that,” he apologised. “If I’d known I’d be coming down here today, I would have eased back on the liquid refreshment last night.”

  “I find your weakness amusing, Aiden,” Valennia stated. “You remind me of the young warriors from my tribe, pretending to be men.”

  “I’m not paying you for your opinions, Val,” Aiden growled, in no mood for her bluntness.

  “And you are not paying me to walk around in excrement, either,” she countered. “We will have to renegotiate our deal if this is to be a regular occurrence.”

  “God, I hope not,” Aiden muttered. Ronan gave a short chuckle, then turned and started walking along the narrow path that ran beside the turgid waters. Nellise whispered a short prayer and a glowing nimbus of light appeared in the palm of her hand to light their way.

  Ronan carefully led them along the path, continuing straight past several intersections in the tunnel before deciding to turn left. This entailed jumping across the river to get on the walkway on the other side, something Aiden found was almost as frightening as facing the undead.

  “This place brings back some memories,” Ronan sighed after agilely leaping across the water. “Be careful — they’re not happy memories.”

  “I’m not even going to ask,” Aiden replied absently, focused on not slipping on the slick surface. Sayana and Nellise made it across without incident, but Maggie found the jump to be far more challenging.

  Their path wended back and forth, and they only had to perform a river crossing twice more. The shadows shifted and moved eerily as they travelled, and rats could be seen skittering around at the edge of the light which seemed to unsettle the raelani druid more than anyone else.

  “I thought you liked animals,” Aiden remarked as she gave a loud squeal at the sight of a particularly large rodent swimming through the water.

  “Except rats,” she replied emphatically, keeping as close to the wall as she could. “They’re dreadful things, not at all pleasant to be around.”

  “That one looked like it could eat you whole,” Valennia laughed, amused by her fear.

  “Don’t even joke about it,” Maggie hissed.

  “Keep it quiet,” Ronan said in a low voice. “Rats aren’t the only unpleasant thing running around down here.” That was enough to quell the conversation and redirect their attention to their surroundings, mindful for anything odd moving in the shadows. They’d been walking along the narrow walkways for nearly twenty minutes through this foul place when the tunnel opened out into a larger chamber filled with pipes of varying sizes, and Ronan finally stopped to look around as if expecting to find something.

  “This is the place,” he told them. “Look around for anything shaped like a door.” They began searching carefully on both sides of the channel for a door, but the filth-encrusted walls refused to give up their secrets.

  “Maybe there’s a hidden switch,” Aiden mused aloud after a few minutes of fruitless searching.

  “My source wasn’t too specific on that part,” Ronan mused. “But it’s worth a try.”

  “There are tracks in the dirt here,” Sayana observed, crouching on the ground for a close look. “Many tracks that go in all directions.”

  “Anything recent?” Valennia asked, moving in to look for herself.

  “It is difficult to tell, for there are far too many to discern any sort of pattern.”

  Ronan peered over at the area of the floor they were looking at, then knelt down and started pushing aside the muck to the stone underneath.

  “Thought so,” he muttered as he cleared enough away to reveal something protruding from the stone. “Pressure plate. If you’d stepped on this, something unpleasant would have happened to you, probably involving sharp implements.”

  “I see you’ve still got your wits about you, Nighthawk,” came a deep, rough voice from the shadows nearby. Aiden and the others whirled around to face the newcomer, but saw on
ly a tangle of rusty metal pipes on the wall. “Can’t figure why you’re down here, though.”

  “Just missing the good old days,” Ronan replied cautiously, glancing around sharply to try and spot their observer.

  “So life in the navy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?” the voice mocked.

  “Yeah that’s it,” Ronan agreed. “Can’t stand all the money and power, and the women, I mean, a man needs some time to catch his breath. Why don’t you open the door and I’ll tell you some more about it?” To Aiden’s surprise, that’s just what the unknown speaker did.

  A section of wall behind all the pipes opened inwards, and it became instantly obvious that the pipes were merely a disguise, for they had been sawed off to match the edge of the door, and swung inwards with it, revealing a shadowy man wearing a longcoat and gloves, whose face was obscured by the hood on his coat.

  “Perry has been expecting someone from up top, but he’s gonna be surprised when it turns out to be you,” the thief remarked, amusement in his voice.

  “Perry’s the guild master now?” Ronan asked as he stepped through the door.

  “You got a problem with that?”

  “Nah, I have warm fuzzy feelings for the little guy,” Ronan drawled, “I just forgot to bring a basket of puppies and kittens.” The thief bellowed with laughter that echoed off the walls.

  “Oh, it’s good to have you back ‘hawk,” he chortled, “Sorry about the accommodation. Things have been a bit tough of late. Just watch your step around here.”

  “We’re in a sewer — of course I’m watching my step,” Ronan remarked, drawing another laugh from the thief. Aiden allowed the ladies to go first — Valennia, more specifically — and then brought up the rear just before the door was closed behind him.

  A short passageway wended through a series of thick pipes and opened out into a large, open chamber with decaying foundation columns rising to the ceiling. Light streamed in through grates above, and Aiden realised they must be located right beneath one of Fairloch’s streets.

  The chamber was only a hundred feet across, yet a few dozen people were lying around on shabby bedrolls and chairs — some sleeping, some leaning against the wall. Aiden and his companions were the subject of mild scrutiny by the more alert occupants as they walked through, but for the most part, the people here seemed uninterested in their arrival.

  The exceptions to this were the more visibly dangerous members of the guild, who wore numerous daggers and short swords on their belts and glared at Aiden and his companions with obvious mistrust.

  The smell of the sewers was less intense here, but it had been replaced with the odours of unwashed bodies. If this was the headquarters of the guild of thieves, they didn’t look like they were doing all that well with the ‘thieving’ part.

  “I smell disease in here,” Nellise whispered to Aiden. “Some of these people are quite ill.”

  “Can you do something about it?” Aiden replied in equally hushed tones. “It might help ingratiate us to their guild leader.

  “I have some herbs that will help mild cases, but from the intensity of the smell, I think many of them are too far gone already.” Aiden couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he kept his silence. He’d had a glimpse of life in the wealthier sections of the city that was far above the simple country towns he’d grown up in, but the flip side of that opulence was here before him. An underclass of poor, struggling to scrape by on whatever they could find left over from society.

  A little girl, her long dark hair matted and dirty, ran up to them as they approached the centre of the chamber. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, and her large eyes looked up at him with tarnished innocence.

  “Please sir, I’m so sick and hungry,” she spoke with a weak voice. Although she was covered in shabby clothes, Aiden had the distinct impression she was a tiny waif underneath. “Can you spare a coin or three? I haven’t eaten anything all day and I’m so cold.” Aiden’s heart went out to the little girl, and he reached down to his coin pouch and pulled out a silver noble. Before he could pass it to her, Maggie put a restraining hand on his and pushed it back.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” she crooned, stepping in front of Aiden to stand practically eye-to-eye with the girl. “How did you come to be living down here?”

  “My parents went away on a trip, and I didn’t have anyone to look after me so I had to steal food to survive,” the girl explained, sniffling.

  “Your parents abandoned you?” Nellise asked, aghast at the thought.

  “No! They’ll be back soon, they promised,” she assured them with eyes as round as saucers. “I just need a little money for food and medicine until they get back.” Aiden felt terrible about her plight. Once more, he tried to hand her some money, but Maggie stopped him yet again. She had her arms crossed as she gazed straight at the girl, who looked like she was on the verge of tears under such scrutiny.

  “You’re really good, you know that?” Maggie finally remarked. “I mean, have you ever thought of taking up acting? I’m sure you’d make a lot more money than this nonsense brings in.”

  “There are precious little acting jobs to be had for raelani in Fairloch,” the girl sighed in a much stronger voice. Aiden blinked in astonishment as her entire body language changed from ‘waifish castaway of society’ to ‘confident woman who happens to look like a little girl’. “I wouldn’t have bothered trying if I’d seen you first, but can you blame me? Look at this one — he’s from the country, wearing his heart on his sleeve, ready to help the oppressed with that fat sack of coins on his belt. How could I resist?”

  “You’re posing as a little girl?” Aiden stated incredulously.

  “My my, he really is a little slow, isn’t he,” the girl continued with an impish grin.

  “Not as slow as you might think,” Maggie suggested. “I can’t say I approve of what you’re doing, but if you underestimate people like this, you’re going to run into trouble sooner or later.”

  “Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle myself,” the girl winked, pulling aside her oversized clothes to reveal a nasty looking dagger in her belt. Ronan, who had missed the entire exchange, stepped back in at this point.

  “Okay, I think that’s enough of that, Sparky,” he ordered. “These people are here on important business, and they like their money right where it is.”

  “Nighthawk!” the woman apparently called ‘Sparky’ cried. “I knew you’d be back some day.”

  “Just visitin’,” Ronan replied flatly. “Come on, Aiden, I’ll introduce you to the boss.”

  “Your name is Sparky?” Maggie asked her.

  “Simone, actually. And you are?”

  “Margaret. Why did he call you Sparky just now?” the raelani druid pressed.

  “Why does everyone call him Nighthawk?” Sparky countered, raising a fingertip, from which a small tongue of flame burst, demonstrating the native magical talents of the raelani. “I can’t hang around here all day answering questions sweetie, I have to go make a living.”

  “Doing what, exactly?” Aiden asked.

  “Crime, of course,” Sparky shrugged, “So if you’ll excuse me…” the raelani thief disappeared into the crowd of society’s cast-offs, leaving Aiden and the others bemused from the encounter.

  “I know what you’re all thinking, but she does not represent my people,” Maggie muttered as Ronan gestured them onwards. “Why do they call you ‘Nighthawk’, Ronan?”

  “I see real well at night,” he replied. “Eyes like a hawk, y’know.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep.” A long moment went by without further embellishment.

  “The rest of you go on without me,” Nellise said, looking around her at the sea of humanity. “I’m going to do what I can to help some of these people.”

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Maggie offered.

  “Okay, just be careful,” Aiden advised, receiving a perfunctory nod from the two women as Nellise kne
lt down to talk to a sad looking woman wearing little more than rags. Aiden’s attention was caught by the sound of someone nearby clapping very slowly.

  Looking ahead, he saw a number of heavily armed men in longcoats standing around a male raelani, sitting on an oversized chair adorned with exquisite carvings. It was the small man who was clapping, a sound filled with mockery and derision.

  “So, you finally made it here,” he called in his small voice. “Full marks for completion, but a big fat zero for effort, longshanks.”

  “This place wasn’t exactly easy to find,” Aiden replied as they walked over to his “throne”.

  “That’s no excuse, ‘cause you’ve had someone helping you out,” their diminutive leader said. “Long time no see, Nighthawk.”

  “Hi Perry,” Ronan answered, coming to a stop with one foot placed on the dais the chair rested upon. “I like your new home. It’s got a certain lack of charm about it.”

  “I gotta admit, you’ve got guts standing before me and showing me no respect,” Perry growled in a voice that would have been more threatening if he wasn’t so small.

  “Yeah well, village idiots like you scare the hell out of me,” Ronan continued mildly. “If you start doing cartwheels and telling ribald jokes, I’m out of here.” Perry visibly tensed, and the three, armed men by his side put their hands on the hilts of their weapons.

  “Glib, as always,” Perry said, his voice little more than a terse whisper. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you killed right now.”

  “I’ll give you one,” Aiden stated. “Ronan is helping me out with an important investigation, so if you try to kill him, I’ll let my friend here break most of your bones.” He hiked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at Valennia.

  “I would like that,” she remarked while cracking her knuckles, towering over the raelani.

  “I don’t like being threatened in my own house,” Perry observed, peering up at the Akoran woman without much enthusiasm. “But I’ll let it pass this time, so long as you watch your mouth, ‘hawk.”

 

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