The girl Afia snarled something in her native tongue. Ilanna didn't need to understand the words to recognize the fury.
Ria translated. "She wants to know what you will do with the…" She rattled what sounded like a vicious curse and pointed to the Bloody Hand thugs.
Ilanna grinned. "Once we have questioned them thoroughly, they will either be turned over to the law or disposed of. Either way, they will suffer for what they have done."
Ria repeated this to Afia, who spat and retorted something angry.
"She says those three deserve a fate far worse than death for what they've done." She continued to translate Afia's words. "They were the cruelest of the lot, beating us for no reason, forcing themselves upon us. When any of us tried to resist, they forced the white powder down our throats. They stuffed us in those filthy, cramped rooms, filled with our own filth. When it was our turn to service the hyenas who came to have their way, we were thrown into the river to wash. Two of my sisters drowned while they laughed."
Her eyes filled with tears as Afia continued speaking. "I-I…" She swallowed. "I will spare you the rest." She squeezed Afia's hands and said something in the Issai language. "I told her that you would not let them go unpunished."
"You were right," Ilanna said, nodding. "Ask her which ones did that to her."
Afia stabbed a finger at the three men lying on the far end of the line.
Ilanna turned to Jarl, who had returned to stand protectively behind her. "Bring them here."
At Jarl's nod, three Bloodbears cut the ropes holding the three men bound, hauled them upright, and dragged them over to where Ilanna stood.
Ilanna studied the captives. Common as mud, the three of them, with features that would blend into a taproom at any Lower Voramis tavern. She'd half-expected leering, grinning villains, but they looked as bland and ordinary as anyone she'd met. And yet, hearing what they'd done to the girls, she wanted nothing more than to hack them down where they stood.
She forced herself to speak in an even tone. "Take them to the barge."
The Bloodbears hesitated, puzzled.
Ilanna pointed. "Tie them to the wooden barrels."
The three men complied, dragging the shrieking, pleading men along. One actually managed to break free and darted toward the edge of the pier. A pair of Hounds brought him down, pinning him to the wooden planks until he ceased his struggles.
Ilanna followed the captives out onto the quay. Arms folded, she watched the Bloodbears lash the men securely to the barrels of Bonedust stacked high on the barge.
"Bring lanterns, lamps, and whatever fuel you can find," she ordered one of the Hounds watching the spectacle.
Hounds and Bloodbears brought oil lamps and alchemical lanterns from within the warehouse. At her direction, they poured the fuel onto the boat, dousing the bound men as well.
When the last of her men had left the barge, Ilanna reached into her pouch and produced a firestriker. "Burn it."
Jarl took it with a satisfied nod and strode toward the boat. The captives' eyes grew round as they watched Jarl's slow approach. In vain, they struggled against their bonds and screamed against their gags.
Jarl struck a spark to the fuel. A line of fire raced toward the center of the boat, where it caught alight the oil and alchemical lantern liquid dumped there. Flames exploded into the night sky, reaching hungry fingers toward the bow and stern of the barge, the wooden barrels, and the men bound there.
The light of the burning barge reflected off something lying on the dock. Ilanna stooped to retrieve it: a slim fencing sword, well-crafted, with an ornate hilt and a crest of arms etched into the steel pommel. The same crossed battle axes and raven crest found on the barrels of Serenii fire in the previous raid.
Her mind raced. He must have dropped it when Ria tackled him. Immediately, she cast around for the mask the man had hurled away. It lay in a heap against the warehouse exterior. Picking it up, she marveled at the texture—so soft and pliable, almost like real flesh. She turned it over in her hands. Something about it was familiar, but she couldn't place it.
The screaming began. The fire had burned away the cloths gagging the bound men but not their vocal chords. Their wails of agony filled the night.
The sound brought a sense of satisfaction to Ilanna. She turned to watch the boat burn. There was a horrible beauty to it, like a fire that burned away the Bloody Hand's taint on Praamis. It rankled that the leader had escaped, but she'd won a great victory tonight. They had Lord Stonecroft. They'd rescued over a hundred girls. That was enough.
For tonight. She fingered the sword hilt, tracing the crest. Tomorrow, the hunt for the man behind the operation would begin in full force. Whoever had done this to the innocent girls within the warehouse would suffer.
Chapter Four
"My brothers and sisters of the Night Guild, tonight we mourn."
Ilanna faced the crowd of hooded figures assembled before her. Close to three hundred Journeymen and apprentices stood in the Menagerie—their numbers had swelled in the last two years. Yet she saw only the faces of those who were not standing among them. The pale, lifeless faces of the eight men and two women lying on wooden biers in the heart of the Menagerie.
She clasped her hands behind her back much as the former Master Gold had. She lacked his eloquence, but she would do what she could to honor those who had fallen in the name of her crusade.
"Eight years ago, the Bloody Hand made the mistake of trying to wrest Praamis from our control. They sought to bring bloodshed, chaos, and cruelty to our fair city. By the Watcher's grace, we defeated them and reclaimed the Night Guild."
She imagined the hate-filled glares many of the assembled Journeymen directed at her. They had stood in Watcher's Square, prepared to swing from the hangman's noose. Thanks to her. She had brought the Duke's forces into the tunnels in a desperate attempt to drive out the Bloody Hand. They might have seen fit to elect her their Guild Master, but they would never forgive or forget all the deaths she had caused. These ten only added to her tally.
Her gaze fell on Errik. The Master of House Serpent sat on his ornate chair at the front of the assembled Journeymen, the other House Masters seated beside him. His face was hard, revealing nothing, but his nod encouraged her.
Swallowing, she squared her shoulders and held her head high. "Since that day, we have waged war on the Bloody Hand—a war fought in the shadows, one few in Praamis knew of." She raised a clenched fist. "Yet today, we triumph! The last stronghold of the Bloody Hand has been uncovered, and the rats driven from the nest. Better still, we have uncovered their ally in Praamis. Even now, Lord Mayharn Stonecroft stands in chains, and I have no doubt King Ohilmos will deliver the justice and retribution he so richly deserves."
Shocked mutterings ran among the crowd. Though few knew of the special relationship between the Guild Master and the Crown, the fact that Ilanna had earned a pardon from the King himself eight years earlier—not just for herself, but for every one of them—had given rise to plenty of rumors. Ilanna made little attempt to quash the whisperings. Ria had listening ears among every House in the Night Guild that would warn of any plotting or betrayals.
But tonight was not about politics or power. Tonight, they assembled to honor the slain.
"We have all suffered losses." She spoke in a quiet voice, one heavy with emotion. "Friends, comrades, and allies have fallen in our efforts to drive the Voramians from our city. These ten, our brothers and sisters, join the ranks of those who sacrificed for the good of Praamis."
A lump rose in her throat. She drew in a deep breath and fixed her gaze on the seated figures arrayed before her. "House Masters, step forward and speak the names of those we will honor this night."
Errik stood first. He stood between two biers, upon which lay a middle-aged man and a woman barely in her twenties. "Journeyman Verys and Journeyman Swaia of House Serpent."
Eden, Master Fox, joined them next. Despite her grey hair, her back remained straight, her shoulders
broad, and she spoke in a strong voice. "Journeyman Cernal, Journeyman Rillick, Journeyman Ingen, and Journeyman Lerold of House Fox."
Shaw, Master Hound, was a tall, lanky man with sallow cheeks and sunken eyes. "Journeyman Byl and Journeyman Imdris of House Hound."
Poltor, Master Bloodbear, towered a full head taller than her, and he spoke in a coarse voice thick with emotion. "Journeyman Huall, Journeyman Llir, and Journeyman Dellum of House Bloodbear."
Ilanna knew the names of every one that had fallen; the ceremony was for the rest of the assembly. Once, the deaths would have gone unnoticed, unmarked even by the Houses of the fallen. But she had striven for change, for a better Night Guild. Death came to all eventually—the least she could do was honor those who had died to protect the innocent.
"These ten brave men and women fell in honorable service." Her words were measured, her tone somber. "Not in the pursuit of coin, but to protect those who are unable to protect themselves. There is no cause more noble, no death more worthy. By their sacrifice, these ten have made Praamis a better place for the rest of us. For our children…"
Her voice cracked. She had nearly lost her son to the Bloody Hand. Ria, too. No one else would die, not if she could help it. She'd do whatever was necessary to ensure the Voramians left them alone for good.
She cleared her throat and tried again. "For our children, and for those who remain to mourn them. We honor them this night. We honor them with our silence."
She bowed her head, and everyone in the Menagerie did likewise. The silence stretched on for a full minute before she spoke again.
"We honor them with our blood." She drew a small knife from her belt and cut a thin slash along her forearm. She stood over each body in turn, letting a single drop splash on each cold forehead. The House Masters added their blood to the bodies of their fallen Journeymen.
"We honor them with our wrath." She raised a fist. "Death to the Bloody Hand!" she shouted.
Every person in the Menagerie took up the cry, until the walls rang with the force of their collective anger.
When the shouts died down, Ilanna continued in the same solemn voice. "We honor them with our memories. For though they are with the Long Keeper, they will never be forgotten." She pointed to a brass plaque set into one of the earthen walls of the Menagerie. "Their names will be inscribed alongside the rest of the fallen, where they will look down upon us with pride at all that we will achieve because of them."
Twenty-six names were carved into the metal, each belonging to a Journeyman or an apprentice slain in the war on the Bloody Hand.
She placed her hands on the foreheads of the two fallen Serpents and bowed her head. "May you find rest and comfort in the arms of the Long Keeper."
* * *
Ilanna toyed with the mask the Bloody Hand leader had discarded. The funeral services had left her in a somber mood, but she couldn't get the odd-textured thing off her mind. She marveled at its lifelike feel, its malleability, even the coloring. It felt and looked exactly how she imagined skin would.
She racked her mind. The familiar feeling nagged at her, but no matter how much she poked and prodded it, she couldn't figure out where she'd encountered it before.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Enter," she called.
Darreth strode into the room, his eyes heavy and ringed with dark circles, as if he'd stumbled out of bed after too few hours of sleep. "Master Gold, I wish you would have told me of your return."
She dismissed his complaint with a wave. "Watcher knows you've got enough work for four Journeymen, so I figured you could use a few more minutes of rest." Truth be told, she'd been so consumed with the funeral and the mystery of the strange substance she hadn't given him a thought at all. "But the fact that you're here means you want or need something."
Darreth pursed his lips. "Aside from the payments requested by Houses Fox, Bloodbear, Hawk, and Hound, there's still the matter of what to do with those recovered in the recent raids on the Bloody Hand." He glanced at his ledger. "By my count, there are one hundred and fifty-seven souls depending on us to feed, clothe, and house them. Then, of course, there's the matter of those who expressed a desire to leave. You promised them coin and supplies."
Ilanna nodded. "I did. And that promise will be honored."
"Indeed. And Errik…er, Master Serpent delivered the funds generously contributed by Lord Illiran, but that was for the initial thirty-three recovered two nights ago. The fact that…" He consulted his list. "…eighteen have chosen to join our ranks means the coin will cover the cost of sending home many of those recovered last night, but not all."
"So be it," Ilanna replied. "If my stipend as Guild Master is insufficient to cover it, you have full authorization to access my personal funds."
Darreth winced. "Master Gold, I must counsel against—"
She cut him off. "Until such a time as we find alternate methods of financing this endeavor, I will do what I must to see these girls made whole. If I cannot protect them here in the Guild, the least I can do is offer them coin to speed them on their way home."
Despite Darreth's clear displeasure, he bowed. "As you say, Master Gold." He tapped his lips. "Perhaps Master Serpent could pay another visit to Lord Illiran? I'm certain he can be convinced to make another charitable contribution to such a worthy cause." His eyes twinkled the way they always did when he had a clever idea. "His family is renowned for their generosity to the House of Need and the Sanctuary. Surely he would see the benefit of this investment."
Ilanna nodded. "See it done."
Darreth bowed but made no move to leave.
"Is there something else?" she asked.
Darreth opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"In all the years we've worked together, Darreth, I've learned that the only time you hesitate to say something is when you would rather hide the truth from me. Either because of bad news, or because you're concerned I'll do something rash."
Darreth inclined his head. "If memory serves, you have been impetuous from time to time."
Ilanna scowled. "I'd like to think I was audacious, bold even."
"Call it what you will," Darreth replied, his face a blank, "but the results are the same. Given your current position as Master Gold, I'd hope you would—"
"Whatever it is," she said in an exasperated tone, "spit it out before I lose my patience. You have my word that I will carefully consider the information before acting."
With a sigh, Darreth produced a piece of parchment from within his ledger. "I believe I have uncovered the origin of the crest you sent me to study."
Ilanna bolted upright in her chair. "You did? Show me."
He placed the parchment on the desk before her. "This particular crest belonged to one Lord Torath."
Ilanna studied the image. Twin axes were crossed over a raven, emblazoned on a red oval-shaped escutcheon.
"These axes," she tapped the weapons, "they're not the same as the ones I saw on the Bloody Hand's barrels." The ones on the crest before her resembled woodsmen's axes, with a narrow blade and solid, flat butt. The axes painted onto the barrels were battle axes, with a longer, heavier blade and spiked butt.
"From what I understand," Darreth said, "these particular weapons are common among the barbarians across the Frozen Sea."
Ilanna raised an eyebrow. The thought of Darreth knowing anything about weapons surprised her.
He sighed. "Master Serpent was kind enough to point out the difference. But it lines up with the stories of Lord Torath. It is said that he earned his title as a reward for valor in the execution of his military duty, which is precisely the heraldic meaning behind the crossed axes." He tapped the raven with a slim finger. "In heraldry, the raven signifies knowledge and divine providence, but also is an homage to the Long Keeper, god of death. If the stories are true, Lord Torath single-handedly slew seven hundred Eirdkilr barbarians after they slaughtered his comrades."
Ilanna sat back in her chair. "Death-bring
er, indeed."
Darreth shrugged. "Stories like that tend to be vastly overblown, but whatever the case, Lord Torath's actions earned him a patent of nobility from the King."
"But you said 'belonged' a moment ago. I take it that means Lord Torath's noble house is no more?"
"Correct," Darreth said, nodding. "Or so my sources have discovered. Twenty years ago, the last Lord Torath succumbed to the Bloody Flux, followed by his wife and only son. With no family members to take on the title, the properties and holdings of House Torath reverted to the Crown."
Ilanna frowned. "But you think this crest is the same?" she asked.
Darreth hesitated. "The similarities cannot be ignored." He tapped the parchment. "The red oval escutcheon could be reflected in the red paint used on the barrels. The battle axes could simply be a more modern reflection of the primitive barbarian axes used for the old crest. If I may hazard a guess, the rising position of the black raven is much the same and may indicate someone is trying to resurrect House Torath."
Ilanna considered the information. During her years as Master Gold, she'd been forced to learn more about the noble houses of Praamis. In many ways, they were her political equals. The Night Guild was as much a power in the city as any lord, simply one that operated from the shadows. They traded in theft, extortion, and murder rather than gold, silk, or cattle. She'd never heard of House Torath, but she trusted Darreth.
"Can you prepare a report for me to take to King Ohilmos and Duke Phonnis?" she asked. "They will want to know that one of their noblemen is…" She trailed off, her eyes narrowing at the sudden set of his jaw and stony expression. "What are you not telling me?"
Darreth sighed. "House Torath is not under the rule of King Ohilmos." He hesitated a moment before speaking. "It is a noble house of Voramis."
Voramis. The word echoed in her mind.
The Bloody Hand controlled Voramis; indeed, they ruled the city in all but name. Their city guard, the Heresiarchs, turned a blind eye to their crimes out of fear or was simply paid off. It was said nothing happened in Voramis that the Bloody Hand didn't orchestrate, approve, and profit from.
Queen of Thieves Box Set Page 119