She supposed that they might have been confident that their security would account for any entry. And they had every reason to expect that the thief who had stolen from Dane Eyrris would be much too frightened to come out of hiding, and would never be bold enough to come after them again. But there was another factor Catelyn considered as well, mainly that the Dane’s were almost certainly more concerned with the Empire and the response that the Sado Sexual Elite were no doubt expecting any day now.
The truth was, since they had turned away the Empire’s man and ignored his request that they cease their search, the Dane’s had much more pressing concerns at the moment than to anticipate a slip of a girl traipsing around their rooftops.
And that’s exactly why she had chosen to come, so directly and so unexpectedly.
The open window on the third floor of Dane Callum’s estate yawned beneath her, and she could feel the heat of the interior escaping into the cooler night air, carrying the wafting smells and sounds of the house to her bubble, filling in some small parts of the mental map of the interior of the estate. The house beckoned to her, and she answered the call by slipping from the ledge, legs dangling, and placing her feet and hands delicately, she crawled spider like along the frame and inside without touching the glass.
From the window frame, Catelyn dropped silently onto all fours on the floor of the room she was in, extending her bubble to all sides, mentally gathering a strategic view of her surroundings. Within a breath, her bubble informed her that she was in what she presumed must be a sitting room of some kind. She gleaned this from the smell of leather furniture and tobacco, as well as the lacquered and polished floor tiles she felt underfoot. The room was walled on three sides, with the fourth being partially walled with an open archway in lieu of a door. Catelyn felt exposed and searched for a place of safety, and sighed in relief when she detected the distinct shifting airflow of heavy wood beams near the arched ceiling.
She sensed a desk a few paces away, and heard the barest rustle of sheaves of papers as the heat of the house was pulled toward the window, disturbing a small pile on the corner of the desk. She admitted to being curious about what the papers might be, and what information they might contain, but she couldn’t afford the delay or the noise it would surely make to collect them this time. Extending her senses outward, along the floor she was on, she could sense four sleepers and three alert guards in nearby rooms. She silently crept to the wall and crouched, reaching out to snuff a candle that she could hear guttering on the table beside the wall.
With the flame extinguished, she moved lightly on the balls of her feet, sprung toward the wall, and then pushed off against it, using her momentum to propel her to the wooden beams she had sensed above her head. She pulled herself up and over one, gripping the heavy thick oak with her arms and legs, waiting.
Within a few whispers, she heard one of the floor guards stumble slightly as he entered the room, clearly expecting the room to be lit with the candle that Catelyn had snuffed in the corner of the room. She smelled his nervous energy, but he wasn’t alerted as much as he was surprised by the darkness, and after recovering and adapting to the dim light in the room, he cursed the wind from the open window and walked to the candle, intending to relight it with a flint in his pocket.
When the guard passed below her, she tensed, waiting for him to spot her clinging to the ceiling beam, but he simply walked on, rummaged in his pockets for his portable torch and relit the candle. Catelyn froze, knowing that she was now completely exposed, if the guard decided to turn around and look up, but he didn’t. He started whispering to himself, some sort of hymn it sounded like, and then proceeded to exit the room and resume his patrol elsewhere. Catelyn waited for several breaths after he left, then eased herself over the beam and down onto the floor.
She lightly stepped to the archway leading out to the hallway, pressed her upper body to the wall and extended her bubble. She could not sense anyone else patrolling on this floor in the hall, but she still heard the sleepers, all occupying rooms to her left. One of them was alone, snoring lightly in the room just one down from where she stood, while the sounds of three slumbering individuals emanated from the room two doors down on the right.
She didn’t need to guess which room housed the Dane. Even the threat of an imminent encounter with Imperial forces for their open defiance of orders from the Emperor himself had not seemed to dampen the appetites of the Sado-Sexual Elite.
Catelyn stood at the threshold into the hall, listening to the sounds of the three guards she could sense who were still active. She heard the one whom she had encountered patrolling, another sat seemingly bored and half asleep in a chair at the top of the stairs at the end of the hall, and the last was standing sentry near the balcony entrance.
Catelyn had already made the decision before arriving that she would not touch the guards. Not only was she pessimistic about her ability to last very long if it came down to a physical confrontation with trained guardsmen, but she wished more than anything to make this night go as fast and as smoothly as it was possible for her to pull off. That would be more likely if she avoided confrontations. She stood up straight and tall and stepped into the hallway with her back to the wall, feeling the shift in temperature as the airflow changed, and listening sharply for the patrolling guard as she edged along slowly towards her goal.
Expanding her bubble along the hallway, first to one side, then the other, she discovered that the patrolling guard was approaching his task halfheartedly, leaving large sections of the upstairs unwatched, which was perfect for her needs, but rather surprising given the circumstances. Her hackles raised, and she wondered again if this was some sort of lure to draw her in, or if perhaps she’d ended up in the wrong chamber somehow.
Why are there no guards here? she thought. Why is there no one close to the man they’re supposed to be guarding?
Catelyn’s review of her senses seemed to confirm that she was in the right section, at least as far as her analysis of the building’s floor-plan had detected, and her curiosity was piqued. The part of her that reveled in being a thief urged her to discover if perhaps there was some other reason that the guards were watching an area of the house away from the owner. But the other part of her, the pragmatic side, the one which reminded her so much of her cautious father won out, reminding her of the reason she had come here.
She was here to protect the innocent residents of the Seat who would be caught up in an Imperial Purge, which would be the inevitable outcome if she couldn’t convince the Danes to back down. She wondered if this plan of hers wasn’t the craziest thing that she’d ever attempted. She wondered if it wasn’t going to cost her life, but as she considered all of the alternatives, she realized that there was a method behind her madness.
She knew that approaching Dane Eyrris would only have had one result; he would have Catelyn killed on sight. But Catelyn had done some sniffing around of her own the past few spans while she had been laying low, and she had learned that Dane Callum had a reputation as being level-headed. A monster, yes, but not an unreasonable one, or so her sources told her. She didn’t honestly know how much to hope that she could persuade him to change the collision course they were on, but it was the best and only hope she had. She had no choice but to try.
Catelyn wasn’t sure that she could live with the consequences if she didn’t. The Empire would see to that.
Catelyn’s only direct experience with the Empire had been fleeting, since her brief exchange with the Imperial officer on the day that she had been abandoned twice. First by the murder of her parents, then a second time by the Imperial officer leaving her to die amidst the filth and detritus of the Seat.
She remembered the tales her parents had told, and the history of the early days of the Empire as detailed in the pages of the books she had surreptitiously read in her younger sojourns. And she had heard the tales in the streets growing up, both before and after her tragic rebirth. She had overheard tales of cruelty and malice,
had been forced to listen to the keening moans of loved ones who had lost someone to the Empire’s special attention.
And even more memorable, she had been an unwilling witness to the sound and fury of the Emperor’s last major Purge, as they were called when she was thirteen.
She would never forget the smell of cooking flesh and charred timbers, and the tortured screams of men, women and children as they were burned alive in their homes, barricaded from the outside by Imperial soldiers for no crime other than living in proximity to someone who had broken the law or defied the Empire in some way.
It was widely rumored that in his early sojourns, sometimes the Emperor enacted a Purge for no other reason than to simply to sate his own desire to cause mass death and destruction, and to remind the residents of the Seat that he could.
Catelyn felt her face flush with rage at the thought of that level of injustice, and she often wondered why more people didn’t stand up against the man and his army. Of course that army held a distinct advantage in power, but the people, if they could ever band together, would outnumber the Imperial army at least ten to one.
She smirked at the irony that there was a part of her which actually sided with the Dane’s in their stubbornness to rebel against the Emperor’s command, but she knew that despite their obstinance, their short-sightedness was never going to win out against a force the likes of the Empire.
Catelyn knew she wasn’t the type of person to lead such a rebellion, either. In fact she wished for nothing more than to simply run away, out of the Seat and away from this life, but she believed that was impossible. She could always travel to the outlying cities such as Brunley or Belkyn of course, but no matter where she went in the Empire, she knew that she would still be penned in behind the Walls. True escape was impossible.
As much as she thought about the acts that would be done to the people of the Seat in another Purge, she also knew that it would be done as a result of her actions. Not directly, of course; the Empire didn’t even know she existed, much less that it had been her actions which had begun all of this. To them, she was simply another one of the thousands of urchins and pieces of flotsam in a sea of unimportant faces. They had no way to know that her theft had sparked the Danes to go on their own spree of victimizing the Seat, which in turn had prompted the Imperial response. It all lead back to her one act, and she found that she was not willing to live with that on her conscience.
If I’d simply left the weapon where it had been, in the clutches of that madman Eyrris, then none of the rest would have followed.
As soon as she thought this though, she knew that it was foolish to try and take back her actions of the past. And just as foolish to hold herself responsible for the actions of criminals. She may have thrown a spark onto the pyre, but the Danes had done all the work of fanning the flames.
Still, Catelyn did see an opportunity to reverse the course by exerting some pressure of her own on the Danes. And it was her hope of this outcome, however slight such a chance might be, that turned her back toward the hallway and toward the sleeping Dane and his guests.
As she padded silently along the hall to the door of the room where she presumed he slept, she tried to work out what she might offer the Dane to relent and speak to Eyrris about giving up his foolish hunt and defiance of the Emperor. She was clearly not going to return the weapon, which she was sure would be a significant factor in any offer from Callum, but she had to be prepared to have something she could use to trade for his cooperation.
Catelyn felt a stab of fear when the thought crossed her mind that perhaps Dane Callum might suggest that she herself was worth trading, which in turn brought up many of Catelyn’s unresolved feelings about the things her mother had been forced to do to survive. No matter what happened here tonight, Catelyn knew that she would never let that happen, because of a promise that she had once made to her mother.
As she struggled to think of something else of value that she had to offer, she felt a wave of panic at her lack of forethought. But she pushed it down effectively, and said a prayer to the Divines to guide her and give her plan the chance it would need to work. She didn’t expect a response, or for it to actually help anything, but she reasoned that maybe it couldn’t hurt.
First things first, she thought.
Catelyn needed to get into the rooms undetected, a feat given the age of the house and the heaviness of the doors. She could tell from the muffled sounds coming from behind them and the smell of the wood, that the Dane was behind a pair of heavy doors, two massive slabs made of carved oak which she knew would not be easy to get open noiselessly. Catelyn extended her bubble directly in front of her, trying to get a more complete picture of what lay on the other side of the door. Reaching out, her fingertips lightly grazed the surface of the wood, feeling the hewn grain of the wood, smooth to her touch.
She planted her feet cautiously as she sidled up to stand at the pair of doors, stepping them straight down as she moved to avoid scuffing her feet and causing any stray noise, as well as ensuring that if the floor was squeaky, she could withdraw each foot quickly before she committed her weight to each step. It was slow going, moving so cautiously, but she couldn’t afford a single mistake here. She was just a young girl and although she was skilled in her own way, she possessed no training in martial matters, in a house full of muscled professional sell-swords who could cut her throat before she even knew what was happening.
The three individuals inside the room were sleeping soundly behind the double doors, each one with their own distinct breathing pattern. She heard them clearly as she placed her fingers along the edge of the door frame, which was set solidly and carved with symbols and embossed with ornate panels. Catelyn tested the seal with a slight push and confirmed that the doors were latched shut.
She felt along the joints and ran her hands up and down the height of the doors, feeling the airflow. There was a good amount of exchange, so she knew that opening one of the doors would not disturb the pressure inside, and she could also tell that there was no swelling that would cause the doors to stick. Everything told her the doors were built well, and would open easily, with enough weight put behind the effort, but she wished she had remembered to pocket the jar of grease she brought for ensuring that the hinges wouldn’t squeak. But unfortunately, it was one of the oversights of her having rushed into this job.
She ran her hands over the handle of the right side door, a simple round metal knob that was cool under her fingers. She leaned down and smelled the handles, checking for rust or oil. Nothing stood out to her keen sense of smell, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she stood back up and gave the knob an experimental turn.
The noise it emitted when it clicked open sounded like thunder to her honed senses, but she knew that it was very likely almost inaudible to anyone else. Catelyn felt slightly nauseous, but it was a feeling she knew well. When Catelyn focused her hearing and smell to this fine a degree for this amount of time, it usually caused her to feel ill like this. She really didn’t know what it was about using her talents that caused her to feel this way, but she hadn’t spent time dwelling on it. She just adapted to it as a predictable side effect of her abilities, and was something she had learned to live with.
She ignored the queasiness she felt and turned the handle smoothly and as carefully as possible, and the door latch came free of the jamb. Catelyn tensed, ready to flee at the first hint of commotion, and she expanded her bubble back through the house to check on the guards, but she sensed nothing unusual. When no commotion followed, she refocused her bubble on her immediate surroundings and pressed against the door with her body, leaning into it slowly, and the door, despite its weight, swung inward smoothly and with no discernible noise. The sleeping people inside remained undisturbed.
Catelyn slipped her hand into her tunic pocket and retrieved the small wedge-shaped hunk of burnt wood she had brought with her. As deftly as she could, she wedged the wood under the door when it was just wide enough for her to s
lip through. She could smell the acrid tang of the block and knew she would easily be able to locate it again if needed.
She stood and stretched up on her toes as tall as she could, then edged her way through the slender gap and into the room, not touching either of the doors with her body. Once inside, she turned her bubble to encompass the entire room, and the mental image of her surroundings bloomed in her mind, filling in the gaps where her senses had been muffled by the heavy doors. Almost immediately, the room became as clear to her senses as it would be to someone who was seeing it with their eyes.
The room was about six paces on the long end and four on the short, and was windowless, which was not a surprise to Catelyn based on where it was in the house, though she still found it odd that the Dane had chosen a windowless room for his bedroom. Catelyn could only assume there was a reason for it, but she didn’t know what that would be. It complicated her plans, in that she would have preferred exiting the Dane’s room without needing to return to the hall again, but she would adapt, like she always did.
There was furniture along each wall; dressers, tables and shelves, although Catelyn wasn’t sure which was which...she could only ascertain their rough shape without feeling them with her hands, but she didn’t bother to do those things since those things were not of interest to her. Instead, she turned her focus on the large four post bed that stood in the center of the room.
It stood on a slightly raised section of floor, directly in the center of the room, like a stage or a platform. Catelyn wished she wasn’t imagining the variety of entertainments this bed was designed to showcase but she began to theorize why there were no windows in the room. What happened here was clearly for a very exclusive audience.
As she stood just inside the open door, taking in all of this information, one of the sleepers stirred, and she froze, tensing herself in case she needed to bolt back out and return again later. The sleeper shifted and moaned slightly, but did not fully wake. However, Catelyn heard something she hadn’t heard on the other side of the doors and the sound of it made her break out into a light sweat. It was a distinctive metallic sound she identified easily, the jangling of metal against metal. She knew that only one thing made that sound: heavy chains.
Bloodfire (The Sojourns of Rebirth) Page 17