by RG Long
A few of the answers he had given had been a stretch of the truth. He was glad not to have to explain himself as he entered the city. Almost equally so, he was glad not to have to produce the necessary coins to pay for his and Silverwolf's passage either.
The section that this gate led to was the large residential district of the city. Small buildings two and three stories tall held three or four families each. Thoran's capital was built of stone buildings and wooden tiled roofs with thirty thousand to its name. Beaton was a huge metropolis with hundreds of thousands of residents living in clay houses with flat roofs, mostly made of clay tiles.
Stone was for the extremely wealthy or, at times, buildings constructed by the Red Guard.
Busy streets ran north, south, east and west and intersected every ten or so buildings. It was easy to get lost in the Glorious City. Each clay building looked like the next. Street names blurred together until they all sounded alike.
Ealrin was prepared to wind his way through the city with Silverwolf, hoping that she knew the landscape better than he did.
He did not, however, prepare himself for the sight that met his eyes as they shoved the giant door open enough to allow them to squeeze through.
The city was in chaos.
Entire blocks of houses burned with violent flames. Rows of troops marched down streets to meet a rioting crowd of armed and masked attackers. Families with small children fled, while other youths, who could be no older than fourteen, ran headlong into ranks of the Red Guard to engage them.
It was terrible.
“Come on,” Silverwolf said as she sped along the inside wall, towards the west.
Beaton sat upon an enormous sea that provided a great deal of fish to be consumed by the population, as well as a means to evade the scrutiny of the Red Guard if you wished.
The best place to be outside of the watchful eye of the guard was down by the Lower Docks.
Silverwolf ran in that direction, not stopping to watch the carnage that played out around them.
Ealrin was still trying to formulate the best way to ensure the tall and beautiful assassin took up his job. It was his idea to pay her to kill off the general and, in essence, leader of the Southern Republic, Androlion Fellgate. A terrible genocide had been the result of his prophesying of an apocalypse that can only be stopped by the extermination of every race on the continent of Ruyn, save for the humans.
For all Ealrin knew, there was not a single dwarf or elf alive in the southern peninsula.
His plan was to have the madman killed and hope that, without the leader to unite them under a banner of hate, the war that had been sparked would end.
It was a desperate hope.
But, as the flames of Beaton reminded him as he ran to follow Silverwolf to the Lower Docks, these were desperate times.
Ealrin had found her after she had made her most recent kill: Verde.
He was apparently sent by Androlion to the north. For what purpose, Ealrin was still unaware.
The one who paid for the kill obviously knew something very important about his quest.
Silverwolf was sure that her payment would land her an early retirement.
Unfortunately, she had been silent about who her client was and why they had paid her to kill him.
The only thing Ealrin knew about them was that they were from Beaton.
And that was a dangerous place to be at the moment.
They ran for what felt like the entire morning. Past skirmishes and full out battles of masked instigators and neatly uniformed defenders they flew.
At last, they reached the Lower Docks gate and found that the closer they got to the docks, the quieter the battle became.
Fewer fires raged here.
The streets were nearly deserted.
“Where is everyone?” Ealrin asked, stunned to see the place almost empty.
It wasn't somewhere one would go to casually stroll. The area was known for its black market and less than desirable inhabitants.
Most of them a part of the gang called “The Silver Suns.”
“Man,” Silverwolf said as she huffed and stopped walking long enough to catch her breath. “You must be really thick.”
"Everyone knows that the Suns own the Lower Docks," she said to him as they made their way through the winding streets. The cobblestones under his feet felt much different than the smooth walkway they had just left in the main city.
"Guess they finally got fed up with the Guard and got enough people on their side to do something about it."
Ealrin agreed that the way the Guard and the governor tried to run the city was ineffective at best. But was a violent uprising really the solution?
Now was not the time for getting the answer to that question.
It was all Ealrin could do to keep up with Silverwolf as she maneuvered through small streets and back alleys.
Eventually, he found himself on a street that looked familiar.
"I've been here before," he said, recognizing the pipe and smoke weed store to his right.
Silverwolf gave him a look of surprise.
"What brought you so close to Silver Sun territory?" she asked inquisitively.
Ealrin looked around at the seemingly abandoned street with its two occupied businesses.
"What's so special about this place?" he asked.
Silverwolf shook her head at him.
"You are thick," she said. "This is the middle of their base of operations. What do you want them to do? Put up a sign?"
She turned and walked into the very same inn Ealrin had found himself sharing a drink with Bertrom and Wisym only a few short weeks ago.
Instinctively, he put his hand to his sword as they crossed over the threshold.
3: The Council of Seven
The air smelled of ale and pipe smoke.
Pretty standard fare for the Inn of the Masked Witch.
Not that anyone read the name on the weathered sign outside. That thing had long faded in the sea breeze and hot summer sun.
Only those who had real business there knew the moniker and could name the Silver Suns’ meeting place.
And since the headquarters of the Council of Seven could be up and moved on any given cloudy night, Silverwolf was glad to see that the place hadn't changed since she last walked through the door.
Secrets and blackmail. Bargaining and doublespeak. Those were the ways of the dreaded Silver Suns. But they paid well and, surprisingly so, Bryne had given her an excellent reason to kill Verde from the Southern Republic.
The safety of the entire city wasn't something Silverwolf took lightly.
Bryne was one of the voting members of the Council. Seven votes ensured that there would always be a vote to swing towards one decision or the other. Unfortunately, it also meant that a council member's life expectancy was lower than the average citizen of Beaton.
Voting on Silver Sun action was risky business.
But apparently, they had finally decided they were finished operating underneath the watchful eye of the Red Guard and the impossibly slow bureaucracy of the Governor's Office.
The fires outside spoke out openly enough to see that.
“That guy was there last time,” Ealrin said quietly, pointing to the man lying with his head on the bar, seemingly in a drunken state.
Silverwolf rolled her eyes at him, though he was behind her and couldn't see.
This one is too clean to understand much about these people, she thought to herself. People like me.
Of course he was supposed to look like he was sleeping off a hangover. A sentry guard for a secret society couldn't exactly ask for your name and city of origin.
But the innkeeper could.
"Need a room, miss?" the young lady behind the counter asked as she cleaned out a glass with a dirty rag.
"If I did, I would have asked for one," Silverwolf replied.
"No need to be rude, miss," she answered back.
And with that, everyone in the bar knew that s
he was there on official business for the Silver Suns.
Secret codes and trickery, thought Silverwolf. It was the way of life for one who worked closely with a gang.
With all the excitement going on out in the city, Silverwolf didn't expect there to be a lot happening here. The only ones on the bottom floor were the guard pretending to be asleep at the counter, the innkeeper and the one shady character who sat in the far corner of the room, nursing his mug.
Even though his hood was up, she could tell it was Jerrick, another voting member of the council. He was also the one who was drunk the most.
A half elf, half human was probably going to be drunk more days than not.
He didn't even look up at her as she walked past.
There weren't going to be any pleasant words between them anyways.
She walked past him and climbed the small stairs that went up to the second floor of the inn.
Just down the hall was the Room of Meeting, the place where the Council deliberated and planned. The smell of ale and smoke weed followed them up to the second level. The stairs continued up to a third story to actual rooms with beds in them. Silverwolf thought for a moment that she might need the rest. She hadn't slept since taking on four hounds covered in scales and writhed in purple flames just that last night.
Coins first, Silverwolf reasoned. Then a well-deserved nap.
She looked over her shoulder at Ealrin, who seemed to be studying every aspect of the hallway as they walked down it. He had been clawed by one of the demons. His shoulder was still bandaged from the wound, though it had finally stopped bleeding.
As much as she wanted to just ignore him or leave him for another client's offer, he intrigued her.
Not because he had shown her an amazing wit or superb tactical prowess. He had managed to drive off the demon hounds, but that was with luck and the spear he still carried.
He wasn't handsome.
But he was kind of cute.
You're getting too soft, she told herself as she came to end of the hallway.
She would definitely find an excuse to get rid of him. Right after she got paid.
Whatever the reason he had for giving her a job, she wouldn't need to take it. In just a few moments, she'd have all the coins she could carry and more.
"Wait out here," she told him as she put a hand to the door.
"And," she added as she turned around to look at him. He had one hand on his sword and the other carrying the spear as well as his pack still on his back from their travels.
"I wouldn't explore if I were you," she finished.
His green eyes met her own and he smiled.
"I'll stay put," he replied.
She turned back to the door and almost smiled.
Ok, she told herself. Maybe I'll hang around long enough to see if he stays cute.
She knocked twice, paused, knocked once, paused, and then knocked three times.
A click told her that the door had unlocked.
Silverwolf pushed open the door and stepped inside the room behind it.
TWO GUARDS DRESSED in plain clothes stood silently by the door in front of her. Both were armed. The one who rested an axe on his shoulder held out his hand, signaling her to stop. The other, a female with a slender blade at her side, motioned to the small table to Silverwolf's right.
The small foyer was cramped, as always, and Silverwolf shuddered a bit at the tight space.
Give me the open country any day, she thought as she removed her many swords, knives, and daggers and placed them on the table.
A substantial pile lay before her when she turned to face the guards yet again.
Both wore masks common to the Silver Suns. These were not worn out in the open. Not until today. Metal faces that were featureless, save for eye and mouth slits. An emblem of a small white sun encased in a larger sun was painted on the forehead.
A symbol of how they operated: in the faces of every man, woman, and even children who sympathized with their ideals and lived under the light of the suns.
Silverwolf knew they expected her to be completely devoid of weapons when she walked through that door. She had removed every weapon they could see and placed it on the table. She stared hard at them for several moments.
Finally, one of them grunted, and the other opened the door.
Before her was the Council of Seven's meeting room.
A cramped, smoke filled hall with three chairs on the left, three on the right, and a seventh in the back greeted her. A hodgepodge of small, ancient looking tables and desks made a U-shape. Curtains lined the wall, masking any windows that may have been beyond. The only light came from various candles placed throughout. She had expected the set-up, as it was her second time to visit the chamber.
The Council of Seven didn't believe in equality past the fact that each member only received one vote. Those of lower rank or stature sat further from the head chair. Two of the chairs were occupied. A man Silverwolf didn't recognize sat in one of them. Her client sat in another. Bryne was sitting in the middle and most prominent seat. It gave Silverwolf pause. That wasn't her spot when they had last talked.
Bryne looked up from her stack of papers and gave her a sly smile.
She had black hair, cut short in the back and down to her chin in the front. Her dark skin was in contrast to her white shirt and red vest. She was fair looking, not beautiful, but certainly not unattractive. Several earrings studded her ears and she wore a ring on each finger. Silverwolf knew that if she stood she would tower over her. Bryne was a tall, and merciless, woman.
"I hope you've brought what I was looking for," she said over her reading.
Silverwolf began to rummage in her side satchel for the two things she was told to acquire after completing her initial task.
First, she produced the ancient looking book. Silverwolf threw it to Bryne, who caught it with one hand and thumbed through it.
Her brow furrowed as she came to what she was looking for. Her finger ran over the page for a moment, then she ripped out the entire page and threw the rest of the book back to Silverwolf. She caught it in one hand.
"Keep it or burn it," Bryne said. "I've got what I want."
She looked at the page for another moment, and then added it to her stack. Her eyes stared hard at Silverwolf.
"And?" she asked.
After she put the book back into her bag, Silverwolf took out the amulet Verde was carrying. This she laid on the table gingerly, knowing that it was to be the true object of Bryne's desire.
With one glance, Bryne gave a great sigh and knocked on her desk twice with the largest ring on her middle finger.
The door behind her opened and both guards entered the room and stood by the door.
Silverwolf was beginning to feel very tense.
"I asked you to retrieve THIS necklace," Bryne said as she showed her the page she had torn from the book. On it was a drawing of an amulet that looked nearly identical to the one Silverwolf had just handed her.
Nearly.
The coloring of the stone was not quite right and the claw holding the glowing piece had a different look to it.
"You asked me to get you the necklace Verde carried," Silverwolf countered, trying to keep her nerves about her.
"That is the one he had," she said, pointing to the one laid out on the table before Bryne. "You owe me my pay."
"I don't owe you a coin," Bryne replied, snapping her fingers.
The guards both took a step forward.
Silverwolf's eyes narrowed.
She didn't take well to being crossed.
Both of the guards behind her raised their weapons to strike. With lightning reflexes, she produced from her wrist the hidden dagger and gracefully shoved it through the neck of the female as she turned and dodged their attack.
With her free hand she grabbed the slender blade away from her and ran the male guard through his stomach. He dropped his axe and groaned in pain.
For good measure, Silverwolf snapp
ed his neck.
She turned around to see that Bryne was no longer in the room with her. Some of the curtains on the right side rustled gently.
Hopping over the table and chairs, Silverwolf frantically searched for the part in the fabric. Unable to find it, she pounded the wall with her fists and shouted, "You'll live to regret this!"
She freed her blade from the skull of the former Silver Sun, and fled from the room.
EALRIN WAS LEANING up against the wall casually as she burst through the door. She panted with the effort of the fight before. Some other noises were coming from the surrounding rooms.
Guards would be on the way soon.
"Everything alright?" Ealrin asked. Then his eyes went wide as he saw the blood that stained Silverwolf's clothes.
"We're leaving," she said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him down the hall.
They now had a new and growing list of problems that had to be dealt with.
Immediately.
4: Alric's Decision
"On a scale of one to ten," Alric asked as he brushed some cobwebs off of his shoulder. "How well would you say that went?"
Both he and Bryne were squeezing through a seldom-used hidden passage behind the wall of the Council of Seven's chamber. Moldy boards were in front of them, and crumbling stones slid behind their backs as they sidestepped through the passage.
"I don't like numbers," Bryne replied, obviously irritated that her two guards had failed to dispose of the assassin.
Alric knew she never intended to pay up the incredible sum she had originally offered Silverwolf.
He had also advised her against the double-cross.
She would soon come to respect his wisdom. He would make sure of it.
Bryne came to a door and shoved it open. They stumbled into a small closet filled with buckets, mops, and towels. Shoving most of these aside, Bryne open the next door which led out into the hallway.
The pair ran down the stairs and into the dining area.
Jerrick smiled at them as they looked around.