In Defence of the Crown (The Aielund Saga Book 2)

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “Thought so,” he muttered as he cleared enough away to reveal something protruding from the stone. “Pressure plate. If you’d stepped on this, something unpleasant would have happened to you, probably involving sharp implements.”

  “I see you’ve still got your wits about you, Nighthawk,” came a deep, rough voice from the shadows nearby. Aiden and the others whirled around to face the newcomer, but saw only a tangle of rusty metal pipes on the wall. “Can’t figure why you’re down here, though.”

  “Just missing the good old days,” Ronan replied cautiously, glancing around sharply to try and spot their observer.

  “So life in the navy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?” the voice mocked. “Or maybe you find the company of royalty not to your liking.”

  “Yeah that’s it,” Ronan agreed. “Can’t stand all the money and power, and the women, I mean, a man needs some time to catch his breath. Why don’t you open the door and I’ll tell you some more about it?” To Aiden’s surprise, that’s just what the unknown speaker did.

  A section of wall behind all the pipes opened inwards, and it became instantly obvious that the pipes were merely a disguise, for they had been sawed off to match the edge of the door, and swung inwards with it, revealing a shadowy man wearing a longcoat and gloves, whose face was obscured by the hood on his coat.

  “Perry has been expecting someone from up top, but he’s gonna be surprised when it turns out to be you,” the thief remarked, amusement in his voice.

  “Perry’s the guild master now?” Ronan asked as he stepped through the door.

  “You got a problem with that?”

  “Nah, I have warm fuzzy feelings for the little guy,” Ronan deadpanned, “I just forgot to bring a basket of puppies and kittens.” The thief bellowed with laughter that echoed off the walls.

  “Oh, it’s good to have you back ‘hawk,” he chortled, “Sorry about the accommodation. Things have been a bit tough of late. Just watch your step around here.”

  “We’re in a sewer - of course I’m watching my step,” Ronan remarked, drawing another laugh from the thief. Aiden allowed the ladies to go first – Valennia, more specifically – and then brought up the rear just before the door was closed behind him.

  A short passageway wended through a series of thick pipes and opened out into a large, open chamber with decaying foundation columns rising to the ceiling. Light streamed in through grates above, and Aiden realised they must be located right beneath one of Fairloch’s streets.

  The chamber was only a hundred feet across, yet a few dozen people were lying around on shabby bedrolls and chairs - some sleeping, some leaning against the wall smoking short cigars. Aiden and his companions were the subject of mild scrutiny by the more alert occupants as they walked through, but for the most part, the people here seemed uninterested in their arrival.

  The exceptions to this were the more visibly dangerous members of the guild, who wore numerous daggers and short swords on their belts and glared at Aiden and his companions with obvious mistrust.

  The smell of the sewers was less intense here, but it had been replaced with the odours of unwashed bodies, barely masked by a pall of cigar smoke that wafted up to the ceiling to seep out of the grates above. If this was the headquarters of the guild of thieves, they didn’t look like they were doing all that well with the ‘thieving’ part.

  “I smell disease in here,” Nellise whispered to Aiden. “Some of these people are quite ill.”

  “Can you do something about it?” Aiden replied in equally hushed tones. “It might help ingratiate us to their guild leader.

  “I have some herbs that will help mild cases, but from the intensity of the smell, I think many of them are too far gone already.” Aiden couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he kept his silence. He’d had a glimpse of life in the wealthier sections of the city that was far above the simple country towns he’d grown up in, but the flip side of that opulence was here before him. An underclass of poor, struggling to scrape by on whatever they could find left over from society.

  A little girl, her long dark hair matted and dirty, ran up to them as they approached the centre of the chamber. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, and her large eyes looked up at him with tarnished innocence.

  “Please sir, I’m so sick and hungry,” she spoke with a weak voice. Although she was covered in shabby clothes, Aiden had the distinct impression she was a tiny waif underneath. “Can you spare a coin or three? I haven’t eaten anything all day and I’m so cold.” Aiden’s heart went out to the little girl, and he reached down to his coin pouch and pulled out a silver noble. Before he could pass it to her, Maggie put a restraining hand on his and pushed it back.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” she crooned, stepping in front of Aiden to stand practically eye-to-eye with the girl. “How did you come to be living down here?”

  “My parents went away on a trip, and I didn’t have anyone to look after me so I had to steal food to survive,” the girl explained, sniffling.

  “Your parents abandoned you?” Nellise asked, aghast at the thought.

  “No! They’ll be back soon, they promised,” she assured them with eyes as round as saucers. “I just need a little money for food and medicine until they get back.” Aiden felt terrible about her plight. Once more, he tried to hand her some money, but Maggie stopped him yet again. She had her arms crossed as she gazed straight at the girl, who looked like she was on the verge of tears under such scrutiny.

  “You’re really good, you know that?” Maggie finally remarked. “I mean, have you ever thought of taking up acting? I’m sure you’d make a lot more money than this nonsense brings in.”

  “There are precious little acting jobs to be had for raelani in Fairloch,” the girl sighed in a much stronger voice. Aiden blinked in astonishment as her entire body language changed from ‘waifish castaway of society’ to ‘confident woman who happens to look like a little girl’. “I wouldn’t have bothered trying if I’d seen you first, but can you blame me? Look at this one - he’s from the country, wearing his heart on his sleeve, ready to help the oppressed with that fat sack of coins on his belt. How could I resist?”

  “You’re posing as a little girl?” Aiden stated incredulously. He felt a dark stab of anger in his gut at almost being duped into handing over money.

  “My my, he really is a little slow, isn’t he,” the girl continued with an impish grin.

  “Not as slow as you might think,” Maggie warned. “I can’t say I approve of what you’re doing, but if you underestimate people like this, you’re going to run into trouble sooner or later.”

  “Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle myself,” the girl winked, pulling aside her oversized clothes to reveal a nasty looking dagger in her belt. Ronan, who had missed the entire exchange, stepped back in at this point.

  “Okay, I think that’s enough of that, Sparky,” he ordered. “These people are here on important business, and they like their money right where it is.”

  “Nighthawk!” the woman apparently called ‘Sparky’ cried. “I knew you’d be back some day.”

  “Just visitin’,” Ronan replied flatly. “Come on, Aiden, I’ll introduce you to the boss.” Aiden gave Sparky a dangerous look, but she just laughed at him.

  “Your name is Sparky?” Maggie asked her.

  “Simone, actually. And you are?”

  “Margaret. Why did he call you Sparky just now?” the raelani druid pressed.

  “Why does everyone call him Nighthawk?” Sparky countered, pulling out a small cigar from a pocket. “I can’t hang around here all day answering questions, sweetie, I have to go make a living.”

  “Doing what, exactly?” Aiden asked.

  “Crime, of course,” Sparky shrugged, raising a fingertip to the cigar, from which a small tongue of flame burst. She took a few puffs and the magical flame vanished again. “So if you’ll excuse me…” the raelani thief disappeared into the crowd of society’s c
ast-offs, leaving Aiden and the others bemused from the encounter.

  “I know what you’re all thinking, but she does not represent my people,” Maggie muttered as Ronan gestured them onwards. “Why do they call you ‘Nighthawk’, Ronan?”

  “I see real well at night,” he replied. “Eyes like a hawk, y’know.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep.” A long moment went by without further embellishment.

  “The rest of you go on without me,” Nellise said, looking around her at the sea of humanity. “I’m going to do what I can to help some of these people.”

  “I think I’ll give you a hand,” Maggie offered.

  “Okay, just be careful,” Aiden advised, receiving a perfunctory nod from the two women as Nellise knelt down to talk to a sad looking woman wearing little more than rags. Aiden’s attention was caught by the sound of someone nearby clapping very slowly.

  Looking ahead, he saw a number of heavily armed men in longcoats standing around a male raelani, sitting on an oversized chair adorned with exquisite carvings. It was the small man who was clapping, a sound filled with mockery and derision.

  “So, you finally made it here,” he called in his small voice, smoke issuing from a cigar in his mouth. “Full marks for completion, but a big fat zero for effort, longshanks.”

  “This place wasn’t exactly easy to find,” Aiden replied as they walked over to his ‘throne’.

  “That’s no excuse, ‘cause you’ve had someone helping you out,” their diminutive leader said. “Long time no see, Nighthawk.”

  “Hi Perry,” Ronan answered, coming to a stop with one foot placed on the dais the chair rested upon. “I like your new home. It’s got a certain lack of charm about it.”

  “I gotta admit, you’ve got guts standing before me and showing me no respect,” Perry growled in a voice that would have been more threatening if he wasn’t so small.

  “Yeah well, village idiots like you scare the hell out of me,” Ronan continued mildly. “If you start doing cartwheels and telling ribald jokes, I’m out of here.” Perry visibly tensed, and the three armed men by his side put their hands on the hilts of their weapons.

  “Glib, as always,” Perry said, his voice little more than a terse whisper. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you killed right now.”

  “I’ll give you one,” Aiden stated. “Ronan is helping me out with an important investigation, so if you try to kill him, I’ll let my friend here break most of your bones.” He hiked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at Valennia.

  “I would like that,” she remarked while cracking her knuckles, towering over the raelani.

  “I don’t like being threatened in my own house,” Perry observed, peering up at the akoran woman without a much enthusiasm. “But I’ll let it pass this time, so long as you watch your mouth, ‘hawk.”

  “I can do that,” Ronan replied, licking his lips as the bodyguards eased away from their weapons. “Oh hey there, Vaughn. Has he got you shining his boots now?” he asked of one of the bodyguards.

  “He shines his own boots, I’ll have you know,” Vaughn replied with a chuckle. It was hard to see any details on the man, for he was mostly obscured by his hood.

  “What’s with all the cigars?” Aiden asked.

  “They stink less than the air around here,” Vaughn answered with a shrug. “You best get to the point, ‘hawk. You know how impatient he gets.”

  “Yes, and also how much I hate it when people talk about me as if I’m not sitting right here,” Perry growled.

  “Just catching up with an old mate,” Ronan assured him, then inclined his head in Aiden’s direction. “This here is Aiden, and he wasn’t lying about working on an investigation before. I was hoping you could help us out with some information.”

  “Information is a commodity, friend,” Perry said to Aiden, puffing on his cigar thoughtfully. “Ordinarily I’d be happy to take your money and send you on your way, but I think I know what you’re going to ask of me, and I can’t help you.”

  “How do you know if I haven’t asked you any questions yet?” Aiden protested.

  “I have eyes everywhere, mate, and some of those eyes saw Princess Criosa being attacked in an alleyway a couple of nights ago. She was carried to the castle by a noble-minded young man fitting your description. You’re here to learn the whereabouts of the assassins who have returned to the city, but I’m afraid you don’t have enough gold in your pouch to get that secret out of me.”

  “Sounds like you’re scared,” Ronan remarked.

  “We have a deal with them - we don’t bother them and they don’t bother us,” Perry snapped. “Can’t be crossing an organisation of hired killers and expecting to still draw breath, you see. It’s not good for business, or continuing to draw breath, for that matter.”

  “And no amount of coin will change your mind?” Aiden pressed.

  “It’s hard to spend money when you’re dead,” Perry shrugged. “Look around you, Aiden. Half of the people in this chamber are hiding from the law for petty crimes like stealing food, breaking into people’s houses, and only one or two have ever actually killed someone. The other half are just beggars and runaways, or abused women with nowhere else to go. I love the princess as much as the next man, but if I tell you where to find the people you’re looking for, the lives of everyone in this room are forfeit.”

  “I hear the words of a coward coming from your mouth,” Valennia stated, “You threaten us at every opportunity, yet behind all that bluster you are weak. Tell us where to find those we seek and I swear to you that they will not live to threaten anyone ever again.”

  “You mean… you’re going to personally kill them all?” Perry exclaimed, and then began to roar with laughter. His guards joined in with him, as did many of the people in the chamber. Aiden crossed his arms and looked down at the raelani guild leader for a long moment as the laughter echoed around the room, waiting patiently for this little show to end.

  “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere,” he remarked loudly enough to be heard. Perry finally lifted his hands and the laughter began to die away.

  “It wasn’t that funny,” Ronan growled. “Val pretty much told you exactly what our plan is, although I suspect we might want to bring a few of the bastards in for questioning.”

  “Listen to you, talking like a watchman,” Perry chided. “The problem here, old friend, is that if you miss even one of them, people are going to die. People like me, for example.”

  “My violent friend here wasn’t lying about our plan to eliminate the assassins,” Aiden continued. “The Crown is furious about the attempt on her life, and they’re pulling out all the stops to ensure her safety.”

  “Which is why they hired a bunch of out-of-towners to do their work for them?” Perry remarked sarcastically. “I know for a fact that the City Watch has been compromised, so they’re not likely to get involved. Our mutual friend Mister Kinsey doesn’t have the resources to do anything at the moment, so really, it’s just going to be you bunch of gits against an organisation of killers.”

  “Perhaps a demonstration is in order,” Aiden offered mildly. “Sy? Could you give him a taste of what they’re in for?”

  “What, in amongst all these people?” Sayana queried.

  “Well, I do see a very high ceiling here,” Aiden mused. “Is this place located under a major street?”

  “No,” Perry replied warily.

  “Perfect,” Aiden answered, nodding to Sayana. The wild girl shrugged then lifted her arms, and a moment later a pillar of fire shot upwards and erupted in mid-air, bathing the entire ceiling in a swirling sea of fire for a long moment. Everyone present cried out in surprise and shock, but quickly settled down again as the fires faded away. Perry’s eyes were wide at this display of power, and Aiden managed to hide his smug grin as he awaited the guild master’s response.

  “Okay, you’ve got some talent, I’ll admit that,” he finally said, shifting about on his
seat and glancing at Vaughn with uncertainty. “I need to think about this a bit. Head back to your inn and I’ll send word up before the end of the day – that’s the best offer I can make right now.” Aiden nodded slowly, displeased with his hesitance but understanding the reason for it.

  “If it’s alright, I’d like to stay here for a while,” Nellise said from nearby. “You have a lot of sick people down here, Perry, and I want to do what I can for them.”

  “I’ve no complaints about that, dear lady,” he replied. “I’m sure they’ll be thankful for your efforts. Now, the rest of you, get out of my sight. That includes you, ‘hawk.”

  “What, no cuddles?” Ronan complained.

  “Don’t push your luck,” Vaughn counselled before Perry could speak.

  “See, this is why I left the guild in the first place - there’s just no heart,” Ronan added as he quickly moved away from the enraged Perry.

  Chapter Twelve

  Their journey back through the sewers was brief, a fact Aiden was silently grateful for. Maggie, who had re-joined them as they left, suggested they take the first ladder up to the streets, but Ronan didn’t want to be seen so close to the guild’s temporary base in case it led the authorities back there. Despite his verbal sparring with the diminutive guild leader, he clearly still had close ties to the organisation and its people in his heart, if not his mind.

  They emerged into the brilliant glare of the afternoon sun shining down on the snow-covered cobblestones, in a part of the city Aiden did not recognise. Few people could be seen on the narrow street they now stood upon, so he figured Ronan had chosen this place for its obscurity.

  “We’re in the southern part of the city, not far from the main gate,” the sailor explained to their inquiring looks. “It’ll take us about half an hour to get back to the inn from here.”

  “I think we can figure it out if we need to,” Maggie grumbled, rubbing her hands together for warmth. “The first thing I’m going to do is have a bath… and buy new boots.”