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City of Daggers (The Iron Teeth Book 2)

Page 42

by Scott Straughan


  The hobgoblin quickly began telling his boss all about his plan to take out the assassins and how it had worked perfectly! He grinned and made suggestive hand gestures as he recounted the daring escapes and close fights that had taken place as he’d dealt with Malthus and the other two dozen assassins with him. There might also have been a trio of enemy mages.

  “…but now I’m so wounded. Ow, the pain-ss is everywhere inside of me,” Blacknail finished melodramatically. The bandit chieftain rolled her eyes, and a small grin appeared on her lips as the hobgoblin spoke. When he was finished, she shook her head in disbelief.

  “Since you’re so wounded, I guess you won’t be able to get your reward for a while,” Herad remarked. Visions of blue cheese and meat pies flashed through Blacknail’s head, and his stomach grumbled loudly in response.

  “I can still eat!” Blacknail exclaimed quickly as he sat back up.

  “Somehow, I thought that might be the case,” Herad remarked dryly as she started to walk away. After a second, she seemed to hesitate and then spoke again without looking back.

  “Oh, and Blacknail… good job pulling Saeter’s ass out of the fire,” she told him before leaving. When she was gone, Blacknail relaxed and collapsed back down onto the stretcher in relief.

  “What-ss are you two waiting for? Get moving!” he growled at the porters.

  After returning to base and getting his own injuries patched up, Blacknail curled up on his big comfy bed and took a nap. When he heard the sound of someone trying to wake him, he did his best to ignore it. Unfortunately, that proved difficult, and he soon had to roll over and open his eyes so he could glare at Khita.

  “Wake up, Blacknail. You’ve already slept for over a day, and Herad wants you,” the young woman said as she reached over to shake the hobgoblin.

  “Touch me, and I’ll bite you.” Blacknail hissed as he rolled away from her.

  “She wants you to follow her to a meeting with the other chiefs in Daggerpoint,” Khita explained.

  Blacknail grunted vaguely in reply but didn’t move. That sounded really boring. He was in no hurry to get off his wonderful bed and out from under his soft sheets.

  “She wants you there to scare everyone and intimidate them,” Khita added.

  The hobgoblin’s eyes opened again as he thought her words over. That actually did sound like fun. He could practice making scary faces. With a deep sigh, Blacknail sat up and looked back at Khita. “Fine, I’m getting up. Go away.”

  “Hurry up. You don’t want to keep Herad waiting,” Khita replied as she walked out the door.

  A few minutes later, Blacknail was dressed in his usual clothes but without his mask. He was fairly sure he wouldn’t need it, and it was still in the bush where he’d thrown it anyway. He would have to remember to get it later. He then dragged himself out of his room and joined Herad and her hulking bodyguards at the main entrance to the base. Herad was dressed in a fancier version of her usual black leathers, and the shadows under her eyes seemed darker as well, but she smirked when the hobgoblin arrived. Either the effects of winning the battle had yet to wear off, or she was really looking forward to this meeting, because she was still looking unusually cheerful. She wasn’t even glowering, and it didn’t look like she was about to kill anyone at all! Weird.

  With Blacknail in tow, the two dozen bandits headed out toward the central district. They passed by the guards that stood watch over the border without incident and entered the better part of the city. After a brief walk past increasingly better maintained and larger homes, they arrived at the mansion at the center of the city. More sentries like those that guarded the central district stood outside of it, but Herad ignored them. She strolled right past them, and they quickly shuffled out of her way without comment. A few of them noticed Blacknail and scowled, but the hobgoblin just threw them a toothy smile, and they didn’t say anything.

  As they approached, the doors to the mansion were thrown open, and they marched inside. The room on the other side impressed Blacknail. It was the fanciest room he had ever seen. It was much fancier than even Luphera’s or Avorlus’s homes. The walls were smooth, pearly white plaster and long, wispy white curtains framed the large glass windows. Intricate silver chandeliers hung from the roof to provide lighting. Even the tables and chairs looked like pieces of delicately crafted art.

  “Greetings, mistress Herad. If you would please follow me, I will take you to the conference room,” a sharply dressed servant explained with a bow.

  Herad nodded in reply, and the man immediately led them through a side door and into a short hallway. He then pulled open another door and motioned them inside. The room on the other side of the door was dominated by a large round table. A dozen men and women were seated around it while a few dozen more stood around the edges of the room. Herad motioned for her minions to take up position along the wall behind her as she swaggered over to a chair and sat down at the table.

  Once again, Blacknail drew a lot of attention, and no one seemed happy to see him. The hobgoblin ignored them. He was busy trying to find somewhere to sit down. Whoever had set up this room had been very inconsiderate in not including chairs for everyone, so Blacknail had to do a bit of problem solving. There was a small stand up against the wall, and the hobgoblin simply took all the junk on top of it and placed it on the floor before sitting down. During the process, a few of the decorations, including a silver candleholder, may have somehow inexplicably ended up in his pockets.

  “Ahem, now that everyone is here, let’s get this meeting started. As you all know, several important and unusual events have recently taken place in this city,” a well-dressed, older man with a gray goatee announced. Blacknail was fairly certain the man was studying him out of the corner of his eye.

  “That’s a bloody understatement, Governor,” one of the rougher looking men at the table replied as he threw Herad an annoyed look.

  “It’s a small miracle that most the city’s still standing. Some people have a lot to answer for,” someone else added.

  “Ha, who are you referring to, Raelan?” Herad replied with a scornful chuckle. “I was simply defending myself, and I wasn’t the one that brought a mercenary company into the city with the intention of conquering it. Also, anytime you want me to answer for something, you can feel free to challenge me to a duel. I’ll gladly accept either that or a larger fight. With Zelena gone and Fang dead, I have the largest force in the city.”

  “Indeed, we are not here to reprimand anyone,” the governor interjected. “While I have no say in what you do amongst yourselves in the outer parts of the city, I myself don’t consider Herad to have broken any of the rules we agreed to when I invited all of you into the city. However, Zelena’s actions require some… discussion.”

  “What do you mean by discussion?” another chieftain asked.

  “I mean that I’m hoping we can agree to some clarifications about the rules. In particular, I’m talking about Zelena’s use of mercenaries. There is presently no rule against hiring such forces, but I think we can all agree that in light of recent developments, that it’s unacceptable,” the older man explained.

  “I have no problem with that. While everyone is here, I’d also like to remind them that most of my band is operating down south right now, and anyone else who enters my territory will be handled without mercy,” Herad added.

  “And what about Herad’s new pet there? That thing should be put down. It certainly shouldn’t be roaming the city, let alone allowed in this room!” a large ugly-looking female chieftain exclaimed.

  Blacknail turned and glared at the speaker. He was pretty sure she was talking about him. He wasn’t a pet though. The woman was obviously not that smart, but Blacknail still didn’t like being insulted. Well, Herad had brought him here to be scary, so he doubted she would care if he spoke up.

  “Like that weak fool Malthus, you insult-ss me. I’ll be seeing you later,” he growled in his most sinister voice as he glared at the woman. The woman fl
inched away from him as he spoke, and she wasn’t the only one. Several other people in the room appeared more unnerved by his ability to speak than his looks. Herad laughed.

  “I’d like to see you forbid Blacknail from anywhere or anything. Several people who used to sit around this table learned the hard way that he goes where he wants. Even running would be futile. If you think he’s dangerous in this city, then you haven’t seen anything yet. He was trained to hunt and track by Saeter himself, and he’s a bloody hobgoblin! There's nothing he enjoys more than hunting people through the forest. I’m sure that if you apologize he’ll forgive you though,” she remarked cruelly.

  Blacknail did his best to look threatening. He scowled at the men and women at the table and around the edges of the room. If that didn’t get a reaction, he smiled at them and licked his pointy needle-like teeth with his long, agile tongue. That seemed to be what disturbed them the most.

  The chieftains soon started to argue amongst themselves, and eventually, even acting scary started to grow boring. The humans just kept talking and talking! Blacknail was about to get up and wander around the room when the meeting finally came to a close. After what seemed like hours of arguing, the only thing the bandit chieftains had agreed upon was the governor’s proposal to ban mercenaries. If Herad had to deal with people like this all the time, it was no wonder she wanted to kill everyone.

  After a brief walk back to their base, Herad was greeted at the entrance by Saeter. Blacknail was glad to see his master up and about. The bandit chieftain dismissed her guards and turned to the old scout as they walked deeper into the building.

  “What do you want, Saeter?” she asked him.

  “I thought I should inform you of a discovery I made while looking over the loot Zelena left behind when she fled the city,” Saeter explained forebodingly.

  Herad frowned at his words and tone of voice. “I take it that this isn’t the kind of discovery that can be converted to cash?”

  “Depends on what you mean. One of the things in the storeroom was an oak chest,” he told her.

  “I remember it,” Herad replied impatiently.

  “Well, I thought it looked familiar, so I tried to open it. The good news is that there were several small bags of silver inside. The bad news is that I opened it with this. Blacknail took it from Persus when the man's caravan visited our camp.” Saeter held up a familiar golden key. There was an ominous silence as Herad absorbed the old scout’s words, and then her lips tightened into a scowl.

  It took a few seconds for Blacknail to remember what Saeter was talking about. Persus had been that crooked merchant who had visited Herad’s camp back when Blacknail had been a goblin. He had belonged to a tribe called the Broken Wheel Company, or something.

  “Maybe they just buy chests from the same locksmith,” Herad replied a second later as she stared menacingly at the key.

  Blacknail’s master opened his mouth to say something, but Herad cut him off.

  “Shut up, I was being sarcastic, Saeter,” she hissed at him.

  The old scout closed his mouth and looked grim.

  “Demons and damnation, that fucking weasel! Well, at least this explains why Werrick seems to have unlimited funds,” the bandit chieftain exclaimed darkly as she glowered. “The Broken Wheel Company owns half the border lords and has more money than any of the southern kings.”

  Blacknail had no idea what they were talking about or why they were upset. It was just a key. He kind of wanted to ask for his cheese now, but it seemed like a bad time.

  “Yes, if they’re backing Werrick, then our war with him has just gotten started,” Saeter told Herad as he met her gaze. There was silence as the old scout and the bandit chieftain stared at each other. The usual animosity they shared was completely absent, and they both looked grim.

  “Oh, good! That sounds like fun,” Blacknail exclaimed happily. He walked over, threw an arm around Saeter’s shoulders, and beamed at Herad. He couldn’t wait for the next battle! This Werrick fellow wouldn’t know what hit him. All the shiny coins in the world wouldn’t save him from Blacknail.

  Chapter 44

  The plain-looking man passed his coat off to the waiting servant. He was middle-aged, and his brown hair had begun to recede. His jacket was of the finest quality, but you wouldn’t have noticed at first glance. It was tailored in a subdued style and had a simple design. As the servant stepped away, the man calmly adjusted the collar of his shirt and walked down the mansion’s hallway. He didn’t bother to say anything to the servant or even acknowledge his presence. He even ignored his surroundings as he moved, even though the inside of the building was lavishly decorated. His face remained absolutely expressionless.

  A long, red carpet muted the sound of his footsteps as he walked. Night had fallen hours ago, and it was pitch black outside, but an abundance of bright oil lamps lit the man’s way. The light from them glinted off the expensive silver and bronze items that were on display around the room. When he reached the end of the hallway, he unhurriedly pulled the door there open. There was a lavish but cozy room on the other side, and it had three occupants. They were all seated around a small, intimate table in the center of the room. All three of them looked up as the newest arrival entered and closed the door firmly behind himself. It clicked shut as the mechanism within sealed the room.

  The man gave each of his compatriots a quick look-over, but his thin face revealed nothing of his thoughts. There were two other men and one woman at the table. One of the men was older than him and had a neatly trimmed beard, graying hair, and a smug twinkle in his eye. The other was younger, clean-shaven, and didn’t look to be in good shape. He had a pudgy cast to his features and looked like he was carrying extra weight.

  “Thank you for joining us, Ressarus,” the gray-haired gentleman said as the man pulled out a chair and took a seat.

  “Thank you for hosting this meeting, sir,” Ressarus replied politely but emotionlessly.

  “I hope your journey here was less eventful than mine.” The matronly looking woman was wearing a long plain dress that gave her a frumpy look and her long blond hair was carefully braided. All together, it made her seem older than she actually was.

  “I ran into no surprises, and I’m glad to see that you’re fine and still capable of continuing to fulfill your responsibilities to this company,” Ressarus told her.

  “Your concern touches my heart,” the woman told him dryly as she tinkered with a wine glass.

  “None of us are responsible for your travel plans or how spectacularly they went wrong. Maybe next time you won’t skimp out on hiring the necessary protection. We don’t control the North yet,” the younger man told her scornfully.

  “I never said you were,” the woman replied coldly. There were no servants in the room, and only a single bottle of wine on the table. Nor were there any windows in the walls. All the light came from a silver chandelier hanging overhead.

  “Wonderful, now that the formalities are done with, let’s get down to business. I have ventures of my own to get back to and a throng of lesser nobles that need to be kept in line,” the bulky man suggested impatiently as he reached for the wine bottle and poured himself a cup.

  He then set the bottle back down and took a sip from his glass. His comment earned him scowls of disapproval from the woman and Ressarus. The older, gray-haired man simply smirked as he folded his hands in front of himself on the table.

  “Oh, what’s with that stupid look on your face, Ressarus? You’re even less of a stickler for formalities than me,” the youngest member of the group remarked irritably.

  “Perhaps, but impatience is not something I approve of either, especially in business partners. I believe that the fact we went rushing in without proper preparation is the reason our plans have been recently delayed,” Ressarus explained.

  “Ah, you’re talking about that mess in Daggerpoint. That was unfortunate, but I would hardly even call it a real setback,” the older man replied.

&nbs
p; “But you’re probably right that our impatience is to blame for our failure there. We saw an opportunity to expedite our plans and took it. However, Zelena’s failure simply means we are back to our old schedule, and all it cost us was a small chest of silver,” the woman added as she shrugged without apparent concern.

  “Ha, even we don’t have unlimited funds. We shouldn’t get in the habit of accepting such losses. Investing so much money in that fool Zelena was a mistake on our part. We should have waited until Werrick could take things in hand personally,” the bulky man remarked.

  “Now now, we all knew this would be a complicated endeavor and we would face setbacks. Let us simply move forward from here,” the older man interjected calmly.

  “Agreed,” Ressarus commented. There were mutters of agreement from the other people at the table as well.

  “So, we underestimated both Herad’s pride and her competence, but that won’t happen again. Based on what Persus told us, we assumed she wouldn’t make a good… employee, so we chose to ignore her until it came time for Werrick to eliminate her. However, these latest events have shown that we must deal with her directly,” the bearded man observed aloud.

  “Yes, the next time we move, we must leave nothing to chance. For Werrick to control the North for us, the Black Snake must be eliminated. I propose we spare no expense when we move against her; she must be crushed with overwhelming strength!” the younger man told his partners.

  “Winter is almost here, so we can’t do anything until spring. I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen a proper northern winter, but it shuts almost all travel down,” the woman remarked.

  “That works both ways. Herad’s movements will be restricted as well. She will be stuck in Daggerpoint all winter. Come spring, she will assuredly then move south to reunite with the rest of her band. We simply have to get ready to strike once that happens,” Ressarus explained.

  “Won’t that kind of manpower draw attention to ourselves?” the woman asked.

 

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