by T L Ford
Angela nodded. "My Master has told me how to prepare letters."
"He hasn't shown whoever wrote the other one though. Why don't you tell me what is really going on? And then you can give me a real demonstration of your knife throwing."
"In short, I was kidnapped."
"How?"
"It was choreographed and staged on the murder of..." Angela inhaled, "My mother. They killed her just so I'd be distracted. They managed to wrap a cloth soaked in a sleeping potion over my face and I was too disoriented to defend myself. I awoke on a ship too far out to sea to swim back."
De Loren absorbed this quiet, unadorned recitation with amazement. What strength of character she had to admit to such a failure and what a rare gift to witness such candor particularly in the lair. "They should have killed you."
"I'm certain our Guild traitor instructed them to, but the sailors were greedy and thought to blackmail my father instead. Those sailors are dead now."
He nodded. "That's just. And you know who the Guild traitor is?"
"Not yet, but I have several ideas. I'll take care of him and any of his allies. They won't be able to hide from my Master's ring once he knows the right questions to ask."
Guildmaster de Loren agreed, satisfied. "Now, then, let me see your real knife skill. The one you will show off in Siedes. No more pretend aiming."
"Get me some more challenging daggers. Yours is magnificent, but it is too perfectly balanced."
He laughed. He hadn't truly laughed in years. Her offhand confidence and implied conceit were incredible. No one else would have dared in his presence and she didn't even seem to think that was strange. What fun! She made him feel young again, reminding him of a very long time ago when he and his mates had bragged and challenged each other.
He went over to his door, opened it. His Dauphin was standing guard, as expected, although leaning against the wall in boredom. "Bring me a collection of throwing knives, please. At least twenty of varying quality." He didn't even wait for the "Yes, Master." He shut the door and turned back to find the girl inspecting his vial collection on his shelf. She leaned close to see the intricate designs, but did not touch.
When he walked over, she commented, "These are extraordinary. There is nothing remotely like them in my Master's collection."
This pleased De Loren. He had hand-picked each little bottle and was quite proud of them. No one else ever really seemed to look at them past a glance, mostly hesitant to be caught staring at his treasure. "They contain some of my more valuable poisons."
"I've heard of your poisons, Guildmaster. I like the vials. Each seems to have been made by an artist."
"I like them, too. I doubt my Dauphin even notices their beauty. I had this one commissioned," he slowly lifted one with a floral etching. He held it up to the light and turned it. Then he handed it to her.
Angela held it more gently than she'd ever held anything in her life. She also lifted it toward the torch and looked through the glass. The etching sparkled and danced, darker on the lower half, where liquid dimmed the light. "Exquisite," she breathed. She gave it back, very, very carefully.
De Loren showed her several more, explaining where the containers had been acquired. Why was he showing her these? Was it her innocent appreciation? Her lack of guile? That she wasn't trying to seduce him or use him or get something from him? That she wasn't terrified of him? All of those, wrapped in her youthful naiveté? Maybe it was her deep blue eyes that held a depth he didn't think anyone could touch. The dress conformed to her curves, but was cut conservatively, particularly around the neckline. No hint of seduction there.
A knock announced De Loren's Dauphin, who brought in a box filled with knives. "My Dauphin, run court tonight for me. I shall not need you this evening."
Dauphin de Loren's eyes grew wider, but he merely said, "Yes, Master," and bowed and left.
Angela pulled the box as far away from the target as possible, checked the thickness of the target board, and over the next hour, she showed the Guildmaster de Loren something of her true skill. No dagger missed its exact pre-announced target. If he hadn't known precisely what to watch for, the Guildmaster would have thought the knives magically launched from her hands. She tested the knife's balance as she picked it up so it didn't even look like she was doing it and she never seemed to aim at all. The knives had to be pulled from the thick board using considerable strength, and he knew she was throwing at a reduced strength to avoid crushing the tips against the stone wall behind it. He would need a new target board. He also suspected she still wasn't showing him her true ability.
"You'll do just fine at Siedes." He noted dryly. The rumors were far too mild. He'd never seen anyone with skill even half hers and she didn't even seem to be trying.
"I just want to do justice to my Master's training. I want him to be proud."
"I'm sure he already is." He debated for a moment. How could she be so naive? "What is it he's done to deserve your loyalty? He's an evil man."
She shrugged. "He's always treated me fairly. He took me in and gave me a job. And training. And for that, I bring in coins and run errands as he directs. I'm not naive, though. He does what he has to do to remain Guildmaster and not all of those things are nice."
Guildmaster de Loren drank the rest of his wine. Did she really understand that the Guildmaster position and the man could be different? Could she truly see him? No one had actually seen him beyond his position in years.
Angela confessed quietly, "Sometimes I'm afraid I'm dangerous and evil too." She actually sounded forlorn.
Suddenly he laughed again. "Come, let us have more wine and toast to your dangerousness."
* * * * *
De Loren couldn't believe he was pondering seducing not only a near-Master thief and likely assassin, but a future Guildmaster, and the apparent adopted daughter of a very deadly man. The potential complications were beyond comprehension. But here was a young lady of wit and beauty who wasn't afraid of him, of whom, in fairness, he should probably be wary. Every woman he'd had since becoming an apprentice to the previous Guildmaster had been a little afraid of him, if too afraid to show it openly. And most of those tried to wield sex to bribe him. What would it be like to be with someone his equal who wouldn't try to use him? Or would at least only try to use him in the same way he might try to use her - in Guild negotiations to their mutual benefit.
"I have a proposition for you, Milady," he said at last.
"Oh?"
"Yes, but I don't want you to misinterpret it or get upset. And I don't want you to think of it as coming from 'Guildmaster de Loren', but rather as just a man. You can say no and I will not hold it against you or even bring it up in the future."
"You have me puzzled? What is there that your Dauphin cannot do? You have an entire Guild at your whim."
He leaned forward and kissed her. Startled, she pulled back a moment. His gaze smoldered as he looked her over from her head to her toes and back again. "You are exquisite," he said. "May I?"
Thoughts swirled in Angela's head - a million reasons to stand up and politely leave. She silenced them with a brutal mental club and kissed the man back. Perhaps physical closeness would fill the emptiness that tormented her? Here was an opportunity for her first time to be enjoyable and he was handsome enough, if older, with a strong personality she found attractive. Someone who would not try to use her to twist her Master. Someone who could keep his own counsel, and most importantly, who wouldn't find anything she'd done a horror. That last part was the deciding point. She desperately wanted to be with someone who knew what she was and would still accept her.
When she kissed him back almost immediately, De Loren was surprised. He'd expected a lot more negotiation and seduction on his part and had already planned out those steps. He would have let her refuse, but he was also quite skilled at getting ladies to bed and he had expected her to require more convincing. Luckily he was used to adapting plans instantly.
So for a while, they were just
a man and a woman, not guildmembers, with no past and no future. He was young again and unburdened by his position, and she found solace in being close to someone who knew who and what she was and still wanted to be near her. He used the skills his experience had given him, and she tried to match him, exploring new sensations. He was himself startled to discover her virginity entirely too late for it to matter.
Afterward, Angela stretched on his bed, nude, never having felt so incredibly beautiful and powerful in her life. A bit of reality began to slip in. "We can't do this again," she said.
"I know. Probably shouldn't have done it in the first place." He wasn't particularly repentant.
"That was magnificent."
"You are magnificent." De Loren did not comment on the fading, large bruise on her side, but it did make him wonder.
She blushed and yawned. Then she perplexed him by asking, "May I sleep?"
"If you like."
"Will you watch over me? I've not felt truly safe since that night."
"You'd feel safe here?"
She curled up next to him, putting her head on his shoulder. She whispered, "If you'd watch over me. You are strong and powerful and dangerous." As she drifted off to sleep, she concluded, "You can protect me."
What had he done? De Loren watched her for a while. She began to snore softly. Gently, he lifted her head and put a pillow under it and slid out of the bed. He pulled his blanket over her, appalled at how protective he felt. How had she gotten him to care so quickly? How had she gotten him to care at all? He tried to banish the feeling, but failed.
Guildmaster de Loren wasn't the least bit tired. After all, this was his awake-time. He was jaded enough to wonder if she were merely faking sleep, waiting for him to leave, so she could have run of his room. Who had seduced whom here? For someone who claimed not to be naive, how could she sleep with an assassin in the room?
He went to the shelf and poured himself more wine and got some bread and cheese. He might as well finish some of the desk work he'd been avoiding. He moved his chair around the table so he could watch her sleep, unsafely with his back to the door. After a moment, he stood and locked the door and settled back into his chair. Concentration was difficult and just as he started focusing on the ledger, she rolled over, snuggling into his pillow, and snored louder, completely distracting him again.
* * * * *
After several hours, Angela stretched and woke up, somewhat disoriented. She looked around until she spotted De Loren over at his desk. He was fully dressed. What had she done? What time was it? Her father was going to be furious. She'd have to get the Guildmaster to kick her out as soon as possible. "How long have I been asleep?" Where were her clothes? Ah, there they were piled at the foot of the bed. He must have picked them up from where they'd scattered them across the floor. She reached for her under-corset and began tying it on.
"Several hours. If you're going to be the Dauphin de Merryweather, you're going to have to start being awake at night and sleeping during the day," he teased.
She grinned. "At the moment, I'm lucky if I get any sleep at all. My father's ship keeps day hours. Thank you for letting me rest. And well, for the rest."
He was relieved she wasn't going to blame him or become a clingy nuisance or make ridiculous demands; he'd had several hours to think of her potential bad reactions, some quite deadly. He tipped his head at her, "And you, Milady."
She finished dressing and walked over. "Your ledgers?" she peered over at the papers, knowing that such an action uninvited was usually a very bad idea, but she was in a hurry to leave, lest her father ask too many questions about her absence.
"Yes. A tedious bit of business. Has your Master let you look at his?"
"I do them for him. I've quite a knack for numbers."
That was unheard of. No Guildmaster would allow it. At his skeptical gaze, she added, "He checks them." She hesitated, wondering how far she could go, and asked, "Would you like help with yours?" There was a subtle distinction between 'get out!' and 'throw her in the dungeon!' and 'someone clean up that bloody mess on my floor'.
"No." He stacked the pages and put them away.
"I should be leaving, then. I've obeyed the forms, as commanded by my Master, and I'm sure you have business to attend."
For a moment, he thought she was trying to manipulate him, pretending hurt, but looking into her eyes, he knew she wasn't upset at all. A sad thought crept into his mind and he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Your Master commanded you to sleep with me?"
"No! I meant the knife throwing. What happened afterward was my own decision entirely."
"Not entirely. It was my decision, too."
She laughed. "Of course! I'm sorry to have implied otherwise." She walked around and perched on his desk - yet another bit of calculated familiarity to encourage him to send her on her way. "Speaking of decisions, do you allow your Dauphin to make any?"
"Sometimes. He's geased so I trust him for now."
"Do you often allow him to run Court?"
"This is the first time. I admit I'm curious how he's doing."
"Perhaps we should go see, then?"
De Loren noted her subtle persuasive tone. "Are you trying to leave?"
"In truth, yes. My father doesn't know I left the ship, nor about my guild affiliation. I'd prefer to keep it that way."
"Ah! So it's not me you are running away from, but rather your obligations that you are running to."
She nodded. "I'd rather stay through the night. It's good to be myself and not have to pretend I'm someone else."
"We are all pretending to be someone else," he commented, standing. "Come, let us go to Court."
She stopped at the door. "Please, one last kiss to remember before we must return to our roles?"
"I think you understand me better than anyone," he said and kissed her thoroughly.
"I'll see you again in Siedes," she promised and they returned to their roles.
* * * * *
The moon and stars indicated that most of the night had passed already. Stevenson and Jamil were on watch, and sadly, they spotted her before she thought to slip into shadows. She'd been too busy musing over that last kiss.
"Milady, what are you doing? Weren't you asleep in your cabin?" Stevenson asked, rushing over to help her up the plank lightly secured to the floating dock.
"I went for a walk. I'm unaccustomed to long periods aboard and the stars were so very pretty tonight."
"The log doesn't show you leaving," Jamil admonished.
"You shouldn't be walking alone. This is not a safe place." Stevenson instructed, clearly upset.
"I grew up in a seaport town. I know to avoid sailors," she said arrogantly.
"How is it you aren't in the log, Milady?" Jamil asked pointedly.
"It's not the sailors you have to worry about!" Stevenson sputtered, insulted. "These places have thieves who would kill you for your clothes!"
"Nonsense. My clothes wouldn't fit them."
Goaded, Stevenson went beyond what was gentlemanly to say, "Milady! There are men who would force themselves..."
"Stevenson!" Jamil interrupted, shaking his head at Stevenson. "We'll just note your return here in the log, shall we?" he said to Angela.
"Clearly, I was unaware of the danger, Stevenson. I promise to take an escort in the future." She reached over and lightly rested her hand on Jamil's. "As for the log, I'd prefer you didn't, Jamil. It would unnecessarily upset my father, don't you think? And there's been no harm done. I'm back safely. I just wanted to feel solid ground under my feet and see the stars."
Jamil watched her walk across the deck and duck inside. She moved with an agile grace and confidence, not at all like the young lady of refinement the captain seemed to think she was. Not suggestive like a prostitute, either. Something else. Something familiar that made him very uneasy. If what he suspected was true, it would wound his friend through the heart. Jamil noted in the log: 4:15a, Crew returned and boarded.
; * * * * *
Morning arrived entirely too soon for Angela. She was groggy, mildly achy in her female area, with a headache she recognized from potent wine. She rubbed her temples, trying to shake off the mental fuzz. Twenty gold coins for her head!!! And she'd been out walking alone? She took some water and wiped her face. Did she just have sex with the local Guildmaster? She couldn't have been that drunk on a couple glasses of wine, surely! And showing off her knife throwing like that? What had she been thinking?
She dragged herself to the galley. The sun was unnaturally bright. The morning crew, already eating, stood upon her entrance, and she gestured them to sit back down. Her father was not present. She took a bit of thick oatmeal from the cook, smiled her thanks and went over to the table. She nodded to those near her and ate quietly, listening to the crew's conversation. It seemed the ship would sail the next morning. She felt a little better after drinking some coffee to wash down the oatmeal, but she went back to bed anyway, feigning illness. She awoke mid-afternoon much more rested. She pulled on some fresh clothes and went topside.
The crew was busy loading crates bearing labels of the town's finer breweries and wineries. Her father spotted her and came over.
"Good morning," she smiled.
"Good afternoon is more accurate. Are you well?"
"Yes, I was just battling with a headache. It's gone now, thank you."
"I'm glad. The purchases you made yesterday arrived."
What? She hadn't made any purchases.
"Did you have enough coins to get everything you wanted? I can give you more and send you with an escort."
"You are too kind to me. I have all I need." The twenty coppers he'd given her at the last port were still in her cabin, less the three copper she'd spent last night.
"What did you get?"
"Just a few things that caught my eye." She had no idea. "Where?"
Her father pointed and followed her over to a mid-size box. She glanced over at the shoreline, searching the more discreet places. The Dauphin de Loren nodded to her from an alleyway and disappeared back into it.
She pulled the lid off. Fine silk material in several colors held a small note card that said simply, "With my compliments."