“Councilman Arkrest,” she said, her voice muffled by the thick door, “I have a question.”
“Yes,” he said, low enough for his ears only, “as do I. One you will answer, alright, but to my guards.” Then he frowned as he realized for the first time that he hadn’t seen any of them. Probably all sleeping, the worthless bastards. He would have a talk with them as well, once all this was sorted. Faden Arkrest was a man who knew well the power of coin, and he had paid plenty to have the guards accompany him.
“Guards!” he yelled, moving away from the door and the continuous knocking and further into the room. “Ianden!”
No answer, save for the resounding thumps on the door. He frowned at the surreality of it all, beginning to believe that he must surely be dreaming. Then there was the sound of a flint being struck and a moment later a light bloomed in the hallway, leading to the rooms his servant and the guards occupied. The light was dazzling after being in darkness for so long, and Faden held up a hand, wincing. “Ianden, is that you?” he said, unable to make out anything of the figure holding the light. There was no answer, and his worry gave way to anger. “You listen to me, you worthless commoner scum, I pay you good coin—the gods know more than you deserve—and in return, I expect you to do your job. And where are all those worthless guards? What’s the point of paying for guards that don’t actually guard anything?”
“Oh, they’re all tied up, at the moment.”
Faden frowned. That voice hadn’t sounded like his servant’s. Not at all. It was a coarse, uncultured voice. Little more than a growl, really, and he felt his heart speed up in his chest. “Ianden?”
“Not quite,” the voice answered, and the light rose, revealing the grim expression of a man Faden didn’t recognize. All thoughts of punishing his servant vanished as he was abruptly covered in a cold sweat.
“W-who are you?” Faden sputtered.
“Doesn’t matter who I am,” the big man said. “What matters is who sent me.”
Faden swallowed hard. “And who…that is, what can I do for you?”
“You can tell me, Councilman, about Avarest’s troops. Why are they still here, in Perennia?”
Faden scowled, trying to order his confused thoughts, then realization struck, and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Oh, he sent you. Well, why didn’t you just say as much?” More confident now that he knew what he was dealing with, he walked toward a small cabinet against the wall, retrieved a glass, and began to pour himself a drink. “I hope you didn’t hurt my servant,” he said, inwardly outraged that these men should dare to come into his house in the middle of the night. “It is no small thing, training a servant to be even halfway acceptable. If you have done him any harm, I will be adding it to my fee.”
“I have a question, Councilman Arkrest,” the man said, echoing the words of the woman outside the door.
“Oh do you?” Faden sneered, turning and taking a drink of the liquor. “So do I. For instance, I wonder how pleased your master will be when I send a letter telling him, in detail, how you accosted me within my own house. As for the troops, they will leave the day after tomorrow—that is the soonest it can be done. Unless, of course, I have many more interruptions such as this one, in which case I will make my aggravation known in my fee. You may tell your master as much, the next time you speak with him. I am Councilman Faden Arkrest, and I am no man to be trifled with, do you understand me?”
“My master?” the man said, as if he’d never heard the word before.
“Oh, do not be any more ignorant than you need to be,” Faden snapped. “You know well of whom I speak, and you tell your master, also, that for all his ancient powers, it is not he who can remove Avarest’s troops from Perennia, only I can. And the price of me doing so has just doubled.”
“You mean Kevlane.”
“Of course I mean Kevlane,” Faden growled, out of patience. “Who else, in the name of the gods, could I mean, you fool?”
The man nodded, his visage shadowed in the darkness, but he said nothing, and Faden was just about to ask him what he was about when he heard the door opening. He spun to see the woman—if the term could be applied to one such as she—stepping inside his house as if she owned it, closing the door softly behind her. “I have a question, Councilman Arkrest,” the woman said.
“Oh, you will pay for these theatrics, I promise you,” Faden hissed.
“How much,” a voice said, and this one came from directly beside him, so close that he could feel the touch of breath on his neck, “was the price of your betrayal? How much is your soul worth?”
“What is the meaning of this?” Faden demanded, stumbling away from this third, shadowed figure, fear making it past the anger now.
The big man sighed. “I never said I worked for Kevlane.”
The councilman frowned, confused, and he was still trying to order his jumbled thoughts when the knife slid across his throat, taking his life, and his questions with it.
***
“How much is your soul worth?” Urek said, echoing Shadow’s words as he regarded the hawk-nosed man standing over the corpse.
The other man shrugged, the gesture just visible in the poor light, and if he felt any sort of emotion at just having killed a man, he showed no sign. “Seemed like the right thing to say at the time.”
Sure, Urek thought, just the right thing, if you want two people in the crew called Shits. He grunted and lifted the lantern higher, illuminating the councilman’s dead form. “You’re one cold-hearted bastard, you know that? And what about you?” he said to Beautiful. With all this ‘I have a question’ nonsense?”
The woman grinned. “Shadow’s idea. Still, you have to admit, it was a bit theatric, wasn’t it?”
“Sure,” Urek said. “If you two ever decide to leave the streets, you can always find work in some actors’ troupe.”
“Shame about the rug, though,” Shadow said.
Urek glanced at where the councilman’s blood pooled on a rug that, he suspected, cost more than most people made in a year. Cold-blooded bastard is right.
“Just grab him—the job’s only half done. Now, we’ve got to make the fella disappear before the guards come back. Shits, get his shoulders, Shadow his legs, and Beautiful, grab the fuckin’ rug, would you?”
“Aw, boss,” Shits said, “why do I have to grab his shoulders? Why, he’s leakin’ all over the place.”
“Just do it, you bastard,” Urek growled. “That Seline woman seemed to know what she’s about, leadin’ the guards away, but they’ll be back sooner or later, you can count on that.”
“I-I ain’t never seen nobody move so fast,” the youth said from the corner of the room, pointedly keeping his gaze away from the body. Osirn had done well enough for unlocking the door, but the lad wasn’t cut out for the bloody parts of the business. But, then, Urek was beginning to grow certain that he wasn’t cut out for it himself.
“Neither have I,” he admitted, still a little sour that they hadn’t gone with his plan. “Now, come on. Let’s get this thing done.”
CHAPTER
TEN
A full night’s sleep had done Aaron good, and as he walked toward May’s office in the castle, he felt better than anytime in recent memory. Which was to say almost human. He nodded to the guard stationed outside May’s door—Adina’s precaution against any further treachery, and one the club owner complained about incessantly. “Good morning. Is May in?”
“Y-yes sir, General sir,” the young guard said, sketching an awkward bow, his eyes wide with surprise as if Aaron hadn’t been coming to May for the last several days to hear the latest information on Grinner’s men.
“Well,” Aaron said after a minute, glancing over the man’s shoulder at the door. “can I see her?”
The guard’s face reddened, and he practically jumped out of the way. “O-of course, sir. Forgive me, sir.”
Aaron frowned. “I got something on my face, is that it?”
The man blinked, appar
ently only just realizing he’d been ogling Aaron like a bar of gold had just fallen from the heavens to land at his feet. “N-no sir,” he said, giving a nervous, breathy laugh. “And, that is…General, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so…I sure am glad you’re on our side, sir. If there’s anything me or the other lads can do, anything we can help you with, all you have to do is ask.”
Aaron grunted. What in the name of the gods is going on? “Sure,” he said, giving the man a grin, “got any answers for a headache?”
The guard considered, a panicked desperation on his face. “Sir, forgive me, I don’t know much about headaches, but I can run and get a healer if—”
“I’m joking, man,” Aaron said. “Everything’s good. I uh…I appreciate it, though.”
The guard breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Of course, General. Sorry, sir.”
Aaron nodded to the man, doing his best not to break into a run as he went to the door, eager to escape the strange encounter. As he shut it behind him, May looked up from her desk. “Ah, Silent. It’s good to see you.”
“Thanks,” he said, sighing. “Hey, have you noticed anything strange about the guard out there?”
“Sure,” May said, frowning, “such as, maybe, the fact that he’s there at all. I’m no child in need of a babysitter, Silent, and no matter what Queen Adina seems to think, I can take care of myself well enough.”
“No,” Aaron said, shaking his head and sinking into the chair in front of her desk. “It’s not that, it’s…forget it. I just wanted to come by and get the latest on Grinner’s men.”
“The latest,” May said, “is that it’s done.”
He frowned. “Done?”
“That’s right,” the club owner answered. “Leomin and Darrell are rounding up the last of them now. I tried to send Sergeant Wendell with them, but for some reason neither of them wanted him to come.” She frowned, shrugging. “Anyway, if there are any more of Grinner’s men left in the city, they’ve got their heads buried so far in the dirt they won’t be able to come up in time for air, let alone give us any trouble.”
Aaron grunted. “Well. That’s good then. What else do you need from me?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Unless,”—a pause as she smiled wickedly—“you want to help me go through some of these reports.” She gestured at the stacks of papers on her desk. “Help me find out where some of these missing items are.”
Aaron cleared his throat, rising. “I’d love to, May, but I think I’d better go check on the army, see how things are coming along. If Grinner’s men have all been accounted for then we’ll need to be prepared to march as quickly as possible.”
“Mmhmm,” May said. “Right. Well, off with you then—I’ve got enough work to do without having you in here distracting me.”
Aaron grinned, giving her a wink. “Well, if you insist.”
***
He stopped to ask one of the guards where Captain Gant was, since he’d been in charge of the preparations of the armies, and in between his nervous sputtering—as if Aaron wasn’t a man at all but some god come to visit him personally—the guard finally managed to direct him toward the eastern wall of the city where the captain was overseeing preparation of the three armies.
Feeling as if everyone must have surely gone mad, Aaron left the bowing, scraping guard and hurried out of the castle, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. He ventured into the crowded city street, and had barely taken a step when men and women turned from where they were studying the merchants’ wares to stare at him, whispering excitedly to each other.
What in the name of the gods is going on with everyone? he thought.
I’m sure I couldn’t guess, Co said, but he didn’t miss the amusement in the Virtue’s tone.
He started walking faster, but a heavy-set woman stepped in front of him, holding a bundle in both hands and thrusting it toward him. Aaron only just managed to stop himself from reaching for his sword. “General Envelar,” the woman gasped, her face red as if she’d been running, “please, sir. Bless my baby.”
Aaron frowned, and a quick look around him showed others in the street watching. “Uh…sure,” he managed, looking at the baby who appeared moments away from breaking into tears. “So…bless you?”
The woman shouted in joy, seeming nearly to swoon, then rushed off into the street, people gathering around her to hear what had happened. What is going on? Aaron thought as he turned, hurrying toward the walls and barely restraining the urge to break into a run.
It seems, Co said in his mind, the amusement clear in her tone, that they have come to look at you as something of a hero.
Aaron shook his head in disbelief. He’d hoped that, given time, his suicidal stand at the castle gates when Belgarin and his men had attacked would be forgotten, but, it seemed, that if anything, the adoration had only gotten worse. “I’m just a sellsword, Firefly, that’s all. I’m not some knight or hero with statues made after me, and thank the gods for that.”
It seems, Aaron, that they disagree.
Aaron did his best to ignore the adoring, almost worshipful gazes of those he passed, breathing a heavy sigh of relief when he finally made it to the base of the city wall. Here, at least, there were few people, only the guards posted along the wall, keeping watch in case Kevlane or any of his creatures should come in view of the city. He saw Captain Gant and started up the stairs toward him.
He’d barely made it halfway up when the guards stationed along the wall begin chanting his name. “En-ve-lar! En-ve-lar!”
They were still chanting when he made it to the top of the wall, and he hurried to Brandon Gant who watched him approach with a wide grin on his face. The bastard. “How do you make them stop?” Aaron said, desperate now.
The captain raised a hand and the shouting cut off. “Alright, that’s enough out of you—you’ve all got jobs to do so get to them!” The guards who’d begun to gather around the wall broke off and went on about their business, and Aaron heaved a heavy sigh of relief.
“Thanks for that. I don’t know what’s gotten into everybody today, but I’m starting to think maybe I’m losing my mind.”
“Ain’t easy, I reckon,” Brandon said, still grinning, “bein’ a living legend.”
Aaron frowned at something in the man’s tone. “What do you know, you bastard?”
The captain shrugged, his face full of feigned innocence. “Not much more than you do, I’d guess. Tell me, Aaron, you been to any taverns lately, maybe stopped in to have a drink?”
“No. I’ve been too busy helping round up Grinner’s men to relax and have a drink. All I did was go back to the castle and go to sleep, then woke up to a world that has apparently decided to go fucking crazy.”
Brandon nodded. “Of course. Well, I’d avoid them in the near future, if I were you. Unless, that is, you like the prospect of being mauled by people trying to buy you a drink. See, from what I heard, there’s been some stories circulating around about you.”
“Stories?” Aaron demanded. “What kind of stories?”
The captain grinned at the sellsword’s obvious discomfort. “Well, all kinds I guess. The latest I heard was you killed a few dozen of Kevlane’s creatures all with your bare hands.” He frowned in thought, scratching at his beard. “Seems to me there was a bit in there about you savin’ a small child or somethin’. Can’t say I remember exactly. There’s another about you goin’ into the forest alone and rescuing a bunch of folks—Leomin and Queen Adina among them—who had been captured.”
“What?” Aaron said, incredulous. “That’s bullshit.”
“Oh?” Brandon said, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t go into the woods alone then?”
Aaron rubbed at his temples where a headache was beginning to form. “Yes, I went into the woods alone, and it was a fool thing to do but I was…well, I was angry. Anyway, I didn’t save them, I—”
“Didn’t happen to kill a few of Kevlane’s creatures, while you were on your little jaunt then?”
&nbs
p; The sellsword grunted. “Yeah, I did, damnit, but I wasn’t the one who saved them. We all would have been dead, if it hadn’t been for the Akalians—they were the ones that did the saving.”
Brandon nodded. “Oh, right, yeah that’s another one. Folks are sayin’ you’ve even managed to bend those demons, the Akalians, to your will.”
“They’re not demons for the gods’ sake,” Aaron hissed. “They’re just men like you and me, and they’re also the only reason why I’m breathing right now. Everybody’s got it all wrong.”
“Yeah? I’d say you could tell ‘em that,” he continued, leaning in close, “but I don’t think they’ll listen, lad.”
Aaron followed his gaze around the wall and saw all the guards stationed along its length had turned to watch him, as if at any moment he might do something heroic, and they didn’t want to miss it. “This is damned ridiculous,” he said, turning back to frown at the captain, “and when I find the person responsible for it, I’m going to have some words for him. We’ve got more important things to worry about than this.”
“Do we?” Brandon asked in the humoring tone usually reserved for someone that was being particularly dense.
“Well,” he said, “considering we’ve got an ancient mage working to build an army of creatures out of nightmare, bent on destroying the world, yeah. Yeah, I’d say so.”
“And you don’t think they know that?” the captain asked softly. “Sure they are. And what better time, Aaron, when things look so bleak, for men and women to have someone to look to for guidance, someone to trust in? Better they believe the stories than think there’s no chance of them coming out the other side of this thing. Better for them to have some hope, don’t you agree?”
“But they’re all lies,” Aaron said, grunting as the other man met his gaze. “Fine, they’re not all lies, but most of them are.”
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