by T L Ford
Angela and Corishm arrived in the Guildmaster's chamber. She ripped off the ring, snapping back into her normal form, and handed it to Corishm. "No time to spare. You get to be the Guildmaster at Court until I arrive back, and then you meet us here again."
"I what?" Corishm choked.
Angela, rummaging around in one of the Guildmaster's cabinets, answered, "You're the decoy. He and I have some business to take care of." She withdrew a large satchel.
The Guildmaster arrived. "Wear the ring," he instructed Corishm, grabbing his hand and slapping it to his cheek. Corishm transformed into the Guildmaster. "Don't abuse it or I'll kill you. And if I ever hear you spoke of this to anyone, outside of your Master, I'll hunt you down and kill you. Go sit in Court, Boy."
"I understand, Guildmaster," Corishm answered, his now-Guildmaster eyes wide.
"Try to at least act like a Guildmaster," Angela advised Corishm as they parted.
Angela and the Guildmaster exited through his private passage while Corishm returned to sit in Court. As they worked their way through the traps, Angela explained what was going on.
"It's not possible. He's geased," the Guildmaster hissed quietly.
Angela shrugged and continued forward. "As Lord Behr said, 'I expect we'll find out how it was done eventually.'"
"He always was more patient than me," her Master muttered.
* * * * *
The Guildmaster and Angela arrived at the Seer's house, a one-room shack on the far side of the residential district. Davies was still there, along with Hands and Mic Evans. Oddly, Davies was tied to a chair. The Seer was not present. The Guildmaster and Angela crept to the wall and listened. They could barely hear through the closed window.
"We can't wait on the mage. You two will have to take him down," Davies said. "I can bring him out tomorrow."
"I'm telling you, we have to kill those two from Behr first," Hands grumbled. "I'm sure that cloaked one that's been hanging around the inn is working with them, too. Their arrival was too well-timed."
"I agree," Mic said. "But it all needs to be done tonight while the moon is full and all three of us are able."
"You know I can't go near my Master right now," Davies said.
The Guildmaster quietly opened his satchel and withdrew a scroll. He waved Angela away and she quietly retreated across the street. When she was out of range of the spell, the Guildmaster read the scroll. He'd always hated the way the magic words burned through his veins before launching outwards in a great energy force, but at least he was skilled enough to handle it. Mentally, he added getting Angela scroll experience to his task list. The sleep spell wrapped around the room and settled on its occupants. As one, they slumped into a sound sleep.
"Fetch a cart," he told Angela when she came back over. "This interrogation will be done out in the woods."
"Yes, My Lord." She ran back toward town. By the time she returned, pulling one of the fish seller's wagons, the Guildmaster had tied all the traitors. They stacked them, still sleeping soundly, into the wagon. The Guildmaster pushed while she pulled as they forged down a path into the woods. They struggled with the wagon as the path deteriorated, but continued on.
"This is going to leave an obvious trail. For all this lack of secrecy, we might as well have dragged them into the market at high noon, instead," Angela commented, giving the wagon a good shove over another fallen branch.
"Ok. Far enough," Lord Merryweather decided when they arrived at a tree that had fallen across the path. There was no way they would have been able to lift the wagon over it, short of unloading and reloading the bodies. One by one, they secured each to nearby trees using ropes, webbing, and chains. When they finished, they sat and waited. The spell would wear off soon enough. They did not talk. Instead, only the sounds of an owl hooting in the distance broke the silence.
* * * * *
Hands began to rouse, his arms pulling against his bindings before he was completely awake. His eyes opened and seeing them, he swore.
"Exactly," the Guildmaster agreed. "Angela tells me you are plotting against me." Angela sat quietly at his side, pale and wide-eyed. Kevin could tell by her utter stillness that she was trying hard to distance herself from the situation. That disturbed him. What had happened to his future Dauphin? She ought to be demanding explanations, stronger from her ordeal.
Hands cursed Davies. "I shouldn't have trusted him. I knew he wasn't smart enough," Hands muttered.
"Tell me what you were planning, Hands." The Guildmaster's authoritative voice had a harsh edge.
"He promised he'd make me his apprentice and name me his Dauphin."
"No doubt."
Mic Evans stirred. He didn't swear when he finally opened his eyes and looked around. Instead, he started to cry.
"It's hardly a crying matter, Mic," Kevin said, unkindly. "Tell me, how was it to be done? I'm curious."
"Davies was going to call you out of the den. We hired three excellent bowmen and gave them poison for the arrows. Simple, really. And Hands and me would come in just after you were hit to help Davies."
Kevin nodded. "It might have worked." He knew only the most potent poisons could affect him, but he didn't need to share that. However, he did think that maybe if Davies, Hands, and Mic were completely coordinated, they might have been able to overpower him. Kevin shrugged.
Mic turned on Angela. "We even got you out of the way! How can you be here? You're supposed to be dead. We all knew you were his favorite. Bet he names you Dauphin, too."
Angela didn't respond. In fact, she looked rather like a statue, gray in the colorless night.
"So after you killed me, then what?" Kevin prompted.
"Davies was going to make us his apprentices."
"Yes, tell me about Davies. He's still geased. I even asked him if he had done anything to help with Angela's disappearance."
"Yeah, that cursed ring of yours. You think you can trust it, but Davies found a way around it."
"How did you three 'get around' my ring of truth?" When Mic didn't respond, the Guildmaster whispered enticingly, "No point in hiding anything now, Mic. I might pay you for the information with your life." Might not, too.
"The Seer can put people in a trance and give them suggestions. Davies merely had her make him only remember what he was doing when the moon was full and he was away from you. He was always telling the truth about not planning to take over the hall when he spoke to you. We've been doing the same thing. Even our bowmen."
"Very smart." Kevin knew the Seer had been treating people; he got a cut of the payment. "How long have you been working on this?"
"A year. We only got the opportunity when those idiotic sailors arrived looking for the seamstress. We knew Angela was normally with you whenever you left the den and she would have protected you."
Kevin nodded. His future Dauphin would have protected him. She had a remarkable sense of duty.
Davies finally began to move. He opened his eyes and revealed nothing at all: Not even a look of fear, just one of resignation.
"So, Davies, I think we all know you aren't going to be the next Guildmaster. Tell me what you've done and how you did it."
Kevin watched Davies fight with the geas and fail. He affirmed Mic's story, adding some detail on how he'd chosen and recruited the five others. He'd discovered the Seer's talent when he'd heard she was treating people's fears by merely suggesting to them that they need not be afraid. He also related how he'd seen the sailors asking after Angela's mother and immediately seized the moment to get rid of Angela.
Angela spoke for the first time, quietly without emotion. "You killed my mother just to distract me."
"I did. It worked, too. I didn't expect it to be as fun as it was. She begged and cried," Davies taunted. "And you fell right into it."
Angela clutched her stomach in pain.
Davies continued, "You had no right to take my inheritance. I was supposed to be Dauphin. But no, you come along, get better training, more time to practi
ce. You sleep with him and suddenly he wants to give it all to you."
"Oh, shut up," the Guildmaster commanded, and so forced, Davies fell silent. Davies had said more than enough. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Angela shaking.
* * * * *
"They have to be killed," Angela's Master said, as if he was discussing what to have for dinner. Angela could barely see with the tears in her eyes. This whole mess was her fault. If she'd never joined the Guild, never gave anyone cause to think she was a threat, her mother would still be alive, and her father would have returned to find them... starving and her mother a prostitute, Angela concluded, anguished. This was the life that had been created for her, through a symphony of horrible events - this black, hateful truth in the dark of night.
She looked over at the tied men and then at her Master. Could she really create her own life as Jamil suggested? Create something different? She didn't want more nightmares and this was surely one. "I can't. Please don't ask me to," Angela begged, aching inside.
Her Master studied her a moment and observed, "If you can do this one night as a demonstration of your brutality, the rest of your life will be easier. It will create a reputation none will dare challenge."
"I thought I wanted revenge, but I don't. It won't bring my mother back."
"No, it won't. But it will assure your position in the Guild." Kevin Bennett studied the girl he'd come to think of as his daughter. Her spirit was broken. Her heart was still too tender to ride the Guild as its Guildmaster. They'd eat her alive if he didn't do something. "I think just the appearance of brutality might do the trick. Would you go for that? I could kill them and you could take the credit. Surely you don't object to them dying?"
Angela stared at Davies, who was still grinning dementedly, and thought of her mother begging for mercy. "I don't object. I'll do whatever you ask me to, My Lord."
The Guildmaster nodded and drew his dagger and proceeded to take care of the task. Angela did not watch and instead clung to a nearby tree, leaning on it. He burned the bodies, but not the heads, with a scroll of flame, and then went over to his future Dauphin.
"Angela?" he whispered. He stood next to her and put his hand on her shoulder which was shaking. "You mean everything to me. I never thought I could care about someone and then you came along and everything changed." She turned and hugged him, crying into his cloak. He returned the hug, holding her until her tears were done. "I want you to have all my wealth. You can do whatever you want with it. Rebuild the town if you like. If you can do to the town what you've done to my chamber and our halls and my clothes, you can make this place into somewhere your mother would have really liked. She sewed magnificent dresses. You can sew a magnificent town." He lifted her chin with his fingers until she was looking at his eyes. He wiped a streak of water from her cheek. "We've only a few more things to do to make sure no one ever threatens you or your family again."
Angela nodded and rubbed at her eyes. They went to find the three bowmen and then to geas the seer. After that was done, her Master explained the last chore to her, and she shuddered and swallowed, white-pale as she bowed her head in acquiescence.
Her Master put his hand on her shoulder and gently said, "Let's go see to your father's man? He must be worried by now. You did the right thing leaving him behind. He wouldn't have survived against Davies if we'd been forced to confront him."
* * * * *
Back in his chamber, the Guildmaster was able to swap places with Corishm without raising any suspicion, taking advantage of the usual 'Court intermission'. He sent Corishm to fetch Jamil from the inn while he and Angela discussed the strategy. Angela rolled the ring of disguise over her fingers, toying with it, still shocky from the night's activities.
Jamil, wary and concerned, entered the room. Seeing Angela safe, he burst out, "Oh, thank you! I was so worried!" Angela looked up at him. "Corishm said it's all over. You shouldn't have gone without me. It was too dangerous!" he reprimanded.
Guildmaster de Merryweather cleared his throat, stopping that lecture. He dismissed Corishm with, "You can return to your den whenever you desire." He gestured at Angela, "Wait outside, out of hearing distance. I wish to have words with your father's man."
"Yes, Master," she tipped her head respectfully, put on the ring, and closed the door behind her.
Guildmaster de Merryweather said to Jamil, "You have been of invaluable assistance to my Guild. Name your payment, Thief."
Jamil didn't hesitate. "Release Angela from the geas."
"How unexpected. All the treasure in my possession, including several magic items, and you ask me to release my Apprentice?"
He nodded, swallowing. He knew it wouldn't be granted, but she was the only thing he wanted from the criminal plunder of the Guild, and he only wanted that because he'd promised her father. He would rather have washed his hands of it all and left forever.
"Even if I told you that she won't leave the Guild? Or me?"
"She doesn't have much of a choice right now, does she? You twisted and corrupted an innocent."
He shrugged. "She was willing enough. She won't be happy about this."
"You're a monster."
He sighed, the sound of an older, wiser person about to give a young, foolish person their idiotic request, which he was. "Very well then." He opened his door and beckoned Angela over. He pulled the door closed after she entered, waited for her to change back to herself, and said to her, "From this moment on, I release you from your geas. You are free."
She doubled over in pain with an anguished cry. Jamil reached for her. He knew precisely how painful the ripping of magic was when it had been part of one's skin. She straightened, shaking off Jamil's hand.
"Master? Why?" she asked, bewildered, and then the light of understanding shown in her eyes. She looked at Jamil, with anger and then with pity. "What have you done? That was a stupid thing to ask for. It doesn't change anything." To her Master, she said, "I'll see you in Court as planned." She donned the ring, transforming into Corishm, and exited.
Guildmaster de Merryweather watched her go. "The young. Always so ungrateful." He shrugged. "You've been paid, Thief. Do you know your way out?" He didn't wait for the answer. He turned to his wine collection.
Jamil hastily retreated and found his way back to the hall. Corishm (or maybe Angela) was there, already playing a game of cards. Jamil bought himself a drink and moved to pretend to watch the game. After a while, the Guildmaster de Merryweather returned to his hall, appearing as casual as ever.
CHAPTER 7: Dauphin
Not wearing the ring, but completely covered by a cloak, Angela made her way to the public entrance to the hall. She had collected a large platter and arranged its contents as her Master had directed when he'd told her what needed to be done.
The tray was obnoxiously unwieldy and appallingly heavy, but she carried it low to her waist, using both hands, as far away from her nose as possible. Even from beneath the heavy material covering the items, the tray's contents smelled rankly unpleasant.
Kent Grey was on greeting duty which meant he was short on coins again. She tossed her head, throwing the hood back. "Angela! I'm so glad you're back!" He seemed like he genuinely meant it.
"Hey, Kent. Announce me, would you? My return requires something special, I think."
"What's that you are carrying?"
"A gift for my Master."
"I can't let you in with that without seeing it first. It's the law."
Angela nodded. "I'm glad you obey the law, Kent," and she genuinely meant that, too. "I'll leave it here until I need it. Please don't touch it." She shuffled over to the wall, counterbalancing the tray's weight with her body, and set the tray on the floor out of the walking path. Straightening, she dug in her pocket and flipped Kent two coppers. "For announcing service."
"I'll do ye a fine job of it, too." He went over and hit the drum once. He waited until its deep echo faded and shouted out over the general room chatter, "Angela Thomas, Apprentice to
our Guildmaster, returned from the dead!" Every conversation went silent. She strode forward, whipping off the cloak, revealing an emerald gown, the last dress her mother had ever made.
* * * * *
For a moment, Jamil even thought Angela was Amy, a strikingly beautiful ghost from his past. The walk was wrong. Instead of the demure grace of a lady, Angela moved with the silent prowess of a hunter. The guildmembers parted, hastily moving out of her way. She stopped at the audience line and dipped into a rough curtsey.
The Guildmaster stood, eyes alight as if hearing of her return for the first time. "Apprentice, speak," he commanded softly, his quiet words reached every part of the room.
Angela straightened out of the curtsey. "Master, my apologies for my extended absence. I have successfully completed the task you assigned."
"Tell me of your adventures later. Have you brought what I requested?"
"I have."
"Excellent, because it is tradition for a Dauphin to honor his Master upon his appointment with a gift."
A loud murmur rippled through the listeners. Those around Jamil nodded knowingly and one even leaned to the man next to him and said, "Told ya so." Jamil felt betrayed. She'd known. She'd known this was coming all along and had never said a word. Jason Thomas never had a chance at extracting his daughter from the Guild. Even his wealth would be paltry compared to the Guild's resources. Why be a mere cherished daughter when one could be a powerful queen? He knew she wouldn't even care that the very title merited powerful enemies. Enemies she could probably handle with all the skill of a Guildmaster, he thought bitterly.
The Guildmaster continued, "Hear this now, Guild de Merryweather. I willingly name my Apprentice, Angela Thomas, as Dauphin de Merryweather, to become Guildmaster upon my death." A cheer went up from their audience.