“But…," the king worked the permutations through. "Even the Tower, even the Oracle. It’s not enough. We held the Oracle for three years, it gave us an advantage, it didn’t give us the war. And Baed needed my army just to hold back the Night.”
“But the Army of Night is now leaderless and in disarray," Gwiddon said. "And there’s something else.”
The king feared more bad news.
Gwiddon took a deep breath. “My Lord, you’ll recall my report on the Green Order.”
The king frowned. “Yes?” It seemed a nonsequitur.
“It seems clear to me now that the bishop ordered the Green to stand down, so the urq could take Aendrim from the remnants of the Army of Night.”
The king put his hand to his head. This was straining even his ability to keep all the pieces in focus.
“Baed and his army and an army of urq?” The king asked. “They would never work together.”
Gwiddon shrugged. “Each army promised something different. Neither aware of the other. What other explanation for the events in the Wode?”
“Heden was right,” the king groaned. “We should have used the oracle.”
“In his defense; we all thought Cathe’s advice well-reasoned.”
“But Heden had actually talked to her.”
“You’ll recall I agreed with Heden, my lord.”
The king shot him a dark look.
“The bishop wants to be king of Aendrim,” the king said, unable to avoid the conclusion any longer.
“Such is my conclusion, my lord.”
“I don’t…he’s already the Bishop of Cavall. Even mastered by the Black Brothers, he’s one of the most powerful men in Vasloria. There’s nothing left of Aendrim!”
“We have more work to do, my lord,” Gwiddon agreed. “I think we can take it as read that we don’t yet understand the full scope of Conmonoc’s plan.”
“Maybe we should get out of his way,” the king considered. "Give Aendrim to him. Save a lot of bloodshed."
Gwiddon was struck by this. That the king would so quickly give up Aendrim spoke to his ambition, or lack thereof.
“My lord, you've asked a political question, but granting Conmonoc Aendrim only furthers his plan. A plan we do not understand. Duke Baed is one thing. He may live long enough to see Aendrim rebuilt, resettled. Conmonoc is an old man. He must have another goal.”
"How do we stop him?"
"We have many tools, my lord. The Hart, the Circle, the Darkened Moon."
"None of them appropriate to the task."
"I'm glad we agree," Gwiddon said, bowing. The king was well-prepared to hear Gwiddon's suggestion. "Because I believe we have access to such a tool, nascent though it is."
The king thought. "Are you...talking about reactivating the Shadowkillers?
"My lord, we’re looking for an organization with extraordinary experience."
"You obviously have someone in mind," the king said.
"As of now," Gwiddon continued, "this organization is newly formed and has only three members."
The king was confused. "What are you suggesting?"
“He failed us once, my lord. Through no fault of his own. If we give him the second chance he deserves, aid him in public and in secret?”
The king caught on. Gwiddon smiled, a wolfish, feral grin.
"Heden will not fail a second time."
Sine Qua Non
Most of Thief was written on a Sony Vaio T Series 15 Touch Ultrabook, for which I thank James Conrad for the discount.
Com Truise and Oneohtrix Point Never supplied the soundtrack.
Chris Ashton and Phil Robb kept me busy and well-paid during the day, allowing my nocturnal scribblings to flourish.
Thief: A Fantasy Hardboiled (Ratcatchers Book 2) Page 35