No one will ever mistake me for Lord Anglion looking like this.
Pulling up his hood, he strode to the picture window beside the massive bed, slid open the steel-framed glass door, and stepped out onto the balcony. Thick ropes of green vines snaked their way along the metal railing and up and down the stone walls.
This was why he’d purchased this particular mansion. The balcony offered him easy access in and out of the mansion. He simply needed to descend the vines and drop into the narrow alley that ran between the opulent mansions of The Gardens. A metal-covered grate at the far end of the alley opened into the sewers, and a rope ladder he’d placed himself gave him access to the rooftops.
The Hunter of Voramis has come to Praamis, he thought. This city may have its secrets, but they cannot hide from me.
With a grin, he leapt over the railing of the balcony and plummeted toward the alleyway below.
Chapter Seven
The nobleman charged forward, swiping at Celesa with his ornate belt knife, but his blade slashed only empty air as the Issai girl flowed to one side. She moved with the grace of a Yathi dancer and struck with the force of a greatcat. Her left hand snapped out to deflect a wild dagger strike, and she stepped forward, wrapped her right arm around the nobleman’s neck, and took him to the ground in a grapple he never saw coming.
“My lord,” the girl growled into his face, her knee driving into his chest, “do not continue this folly, or else—“
“Guards!” The nobleman managed to choke out a shout, and a moment later, three club-wielding men with the man’s insignia etched into their tunics burst through the front door. Their eyes narrowed as they took in the sight of their lord on the floor with Celesa crouched atop him. With a snarl, the guards hefted their truncheons and raced toward the Issai girl.
The room exploded in a flurry of motion. The three serving women drew concealed daggers from beneath their trays, and the guards found themselves with bared steel at their necks. The women had moved with such speed the guards could do nothing but freeze in place.
At that moment, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. The fierce, broad-shouldered woman took in the scene at a glance, and a little smile played on her lips as she strode toward the prone nobleman.
“Baronet Wyvern, why am I not surprised?” Ria’s tone was a polite as her smile, bordering on pleasant, but Ilanna had known the Ghandian woman long enough to hear the sharp edge in her voice. The Baronet’s life depended on the next few words out of his mouth.
Ilanna knew the name. Baronet Wyvern was a minor nobleman who’d made a fortune trading with Shalandra, a city far to the south. The shalanite stone he imported from the Shalandran quarries had proven highly popular in Praamis, among both the nobility and stonemasons.
“Master Phoenix.” Baronet Wyvern swallowed, but struggled to keep a brave face. “I demand you let me up at once.”
Ria shot a glance at the bouncer. “He tried dodging again, Celesa?”
Celesa nodded. “Reason didn’t seem to work on him. Too much to drink, perhaps.”
Ria strode around the downed nobleman, crouched beside him, and plucked the dagger from his hands. “Drawing steel in my establishment, Baronet?” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “You should know better than that.”
Baronet Wyvern’s face reddened, a mixture of anger and embarrassment. He tried to straighten his clothes—Ilanna caught a glimpse of black dots marring the flesh of his shoulder, doubtless a birthmark, though perhaps a tattoo he’d prefer to cover up—but Celesa’s weight on his back stopped him from moving.
Good, Ilanna thought with a smile, and took a sip of her Snowblossom wine. He ought to be embarrassed, given his defeat by a girl half his size.
Ria pointed to the mural painted in bright colors over the front door. “Do I need to remind you what that is?”
The Baronet’s eyes snapped to the painting, which depicted a long-necked golden bird with a vast wingspan and fire trailing from its four tails.
“Just in case drink or drugs have addled your wits, let me refresh your memory.” Ria’s fury cracked through her calm demeanor. “That is the sign of House Phoenix, one of the eight Houses of the Night Guild. My House.” She scowled and placed her face a hand’s breadth from his. “One word from me will have the Night Guild’s finest killers sitting on your bed tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or every night from now until your last. Which, given the enthusiasm with which my friends ply their trade, will probably come sooner than you expect.”
The Baronet actually swallowed, which proved harder than he’d anticipated thanks to Celesa’s elbow pressed against his throat.
“Is that what you want, Baronet Wyvern?” Ria asked in a low, cold voice.
“N-No,” the nobleman stammered. Sweat stood out on his forehead, and his face had gone three shades paler.
“Then pay my girls and piss off!” Ria snarled.
At Ria’s nod, Celesa removed her arm from Baronet Wyvern’s throat and stood. The nobleman let out a little groan as the pressure on his chest eased. His hands trembled as he reached into his cloak, pulled out a purse, and counted out two golden imperials.
“Better throw in a bonus.” Ria’s face grew hard, cold as ice. “Double the price of Krystal’s time.”
Baronet Wyvern’s eyebrows shot toward his receding hairline. “Double? That’s extortion!”
Ria held up two fingers. “One imperial for disrespecting my girls, and one to stop word of this from getting back to the Night Guild. I’d hate to find out how the Guild Master reacts when I mention your poor decisions today.”
Baronet Wyvern blanched, and he quickly dug another pair of golden coins from his purse. “There!” He shoved them into Ria’s hands. “Now let me go!”
Ria stepped aside and motioned to the door. “You are free to leave, Baronet.” She nodded, and the three serving girls removed their knives from the guards’ throats.
Baronet Wyvern stood, straightened his dull brown clothing—a strange fashion choice, given the Praamian nobility’s love of bright, garish colors—and drew himself up into his full lordly height.
A dagger appeared in Ria’s hand far too fast for the Baronet to see, and he recoiled in fear. Ria made no move toward him, simply rolled the throwing knife in her fingers—a trick she’d picked up from Errik. “Before anything foolish passes your mouth, my lord, I advise you to leave while you still possess a shred of dignity. And I hope I don’t need to remind you of what will happen if you think of taking any action against The Gilded Chateau or any of my people. Perhaps you might look to the example of Lord Arenne for advice.”
If common sense couldn’t win out over Baronet Wyvern’s desire to retort, to lash out at the women that had humiliated him, fear of the Night Guild certainly did. His face went ashen and he gave a stiff nod, then spun on his heel and stalked from The Gilded Chateau. The three guardsmen fell in behind him, eyes narrowed at the serving women that had so deftly entrapped them, rubbing at the tiny nicks left in their throats by the sharp daggers.
Ria nodded at Celesa. “Well done.”
“Thank you, Master Phoenix.” Celesa’s lips quirked into a little smile as she bowed and returned to her place by the door.
Ria’s eyes brightened as she caught sight of Ilanna at the bar, and motioned to a doorway at the rear of the room. Ilanna finished the last of her wine, tossed a coin to the girl behind the bar, and followed Ria through the door.
The office beyond lacked all the finery and ostentation of the rest of the brothel. Indeed, it had nothing more than a desk, chair, and shelves laden with the financial records of The Gilded Chateau. Plus a lengthy dossier of blackmail-worthy information obtained from drunk, drugged, and coitus-befuddled clients, of course.
“Celesa’s good,” Ilanna said as she closed the door behind her. “She actually tried to talk that idiot Wyvern down rather than beating the snot out of him like I would have.”
Ria actually laughed. “I love you with all my heart, Ilanna, b
ut even I know that you would have made a terrible bouncer. Too brash, too willing to kick someone in the teeth.” She settled into the plush armchair and pulled a bottle of wine from one of the desk drawers. “Though a good teeth-smashing is handy every now and then. Especially with arrogant pissants like Baronet Wyvern.”
“Think he’ll try something?” Ilanna accepted the cup Ria offered her and sat in the chair across the desk.
“Maybe.” Ria shrugged. “I’ll have a few more of House Phoenix’s apprentices and Journeyman handy, just in case.” She drained her glass in a single pull and refilled it. “Though, given how well the girls are taking to Errik’s training, I doubt it’ll be necessary.”
“Good.” Ilanna smiled and sipped her wine.
House Phoenix had been Ria’s idea, a solution to help the girls rescued from the Bloody Hand traffickers years earlier. Some of the girls—Aisha, Celesa, Afia, and many more—hadn’t wanted to return to their home country of Ghandia or its neighbor, Issai, after their ordeal. They’d accepted Ilanna’s offer of a place in the Night Guild, and when Ilanna had returned from hunting Lord Torath in Voramis, Ria had broached the subject: a House dedicated to the protection and management of Praamian brothels.
Ilanna was surprised the Night Guild had never thought of the concept before. Prostitution had and always would exist, the oldest profession on Einan as well as one of the most lucrative. However, turnover among the girls tended to be high when clients refused to pay, beat the women, or got them pregnant. None of that made for a prosperous business.
Ria, however, had proposed a simple solution: the Night Guild would control all prostitution in the city, just as it controlled every other vice and crime. A new House would be created for the sole purpose of improving the conditions of women who chose this profession. She would find a way to make it livable for the women who chose passion. No more enslavement to a greedy Madame or cruel pimps—the Night Guild would give the prostitutes control over their choices.
Ilanna had loved Ria’s choice of animal for her House. Phoenixes were creatures of legend, golden birds that burst into flames at the end of its life, dying only to be reborn once again. A fitting depiction of the once-enslaved young girls and women freed from the Bloody Hand.
Two years earlier, House Phoenix—with the backing of House Serpent, House Hound, and House Bloodbear—had seized control of every pleasure house in Praamis. Not without some fuss from their owners, certainly, hence the need for assistance from the Serpents and Bloodbears.
Yet Ilanna and Ria’s meticulous planning, combined with the copious amounts of leverage obtained by the Hounds, made the transition fairly painless—for the Night Guild and the brothels, of course. The pimps, madames, and pleasure-brokers unwilling to bend knee to the new regimen found themselves on the wrong side of a dagger or hauled before King Ohilmos to stand trial for crimes real or fabricated. Two public executions was all it took to convince the brothels that the Night Guild’s control was in their best interest.
All the while, the new Phoenix apprentices had undertaken martial training—a regimen that combined the Serpents’ weapons with the ferocity of Ria’s unique fighting style. Even Errik had grown wary of Ria’s assegai spear, which she wielded with speed and savagery. Before she’d been taken captive, Ria’s mother had taught her the Kim’ware war dance of her people, and no amount of abuse had broken the Ghandian woman’s warrior spirit. As the apprentices had demonstrated, they could more than hold their own in a fight.
Ilanna sipped at her wine and ran her eyes over Ria’s form. Even reclined in her armchair, Ria looked every inch a warrior. Hard training with Errik had filled out her willowy frame, and she had the powerful, lean muscles of a fighter. Her ebony coloring, coupled with her full lips and kinky black hair, made her even more beautiful to Ilanna.
She was about to speak when a knock sounded at the door. “Master Phoenix?” came a familiar voice.
Ria smiled. “Enter, Aisha.”
The girl who opened the door bore a strong resemblance to a younger Ria, with the same tight black curls, deep brown eyes, longer nose, darker lips, and lithe grace. After years of weapons and combat training with Ria and Errik, Aisha had developed a similar fighter’s build—albeit lacking the strength Ria had developed over more than a decade.
She hesitated at the sight of Ilanna, but only for an instant. “Master Gold.” She gave Ilanna a bow, which didn’t conceal her nervousness.
“Apprentice.” Ilanna inclined her head. She kept her tone carefully neutral, not letting any of her thoughts or feelings show on her face.
To her credit, Aisha’s voice didn’t waver as she addressed Ria. “I’ve just come from The Fire Lily, but no one can tell me anything.”
A stream of curses rolled of Ria’s tongue in her native Ghandian. Ilanna allowed a small smile to crack her stern demeanor—Ria had taught her those words first.
When the invectives trailed off, Ria drew in a breath and nodded to the young woman. “Thank you, Aisha.”
“I’ve still got The Flavored Delight, but I doubt they’ll have something useful to say, either,” Aisha said with a shake of her head. “But if I find anything, I’ll report at once.”
“Very good.”
Aisha turned to Ilanna and gave another bow, this time far less nervous. “Guild Master.”
“Aisha.” That was all the acknowledgement Ilanna gave.
Ria waited until the door was closed before letting a smile broaden her face. “That was too cruel, Ilanna, and for you, that’s saying a lot.”
“Too cruel?” Ilanna raised an eyebrow, a matching grin twisting her own lips. “Impossible! I’m his mother, after all.”
“I’m his mother, too,” Ria said, “and you don’t see me toying with Aisha like that. The girl may know her way around an assegai, sword, and dagger like the best of House Phoenix, but when it comes to affairs of the heart, she’s as inexperienced as I was when we first met. Her feelings for Kodyn are genuine, I’ve seen it for myself. She’s my best apprentice, and I trust her with my life.”
“You trust her.” Ilanna shrugged.
“And you trust me.” Ria reached across the desk for Ilanna’s hand. “Which means that you will listen when I tell you that Kodyn will find few better companions in this world than Aisha. After all, she’s Ghandian, so the bravest, brightest, most loyal, most beautiful—“
“I get the point.” Ilanna chuckled softly. “It’s just so hard to think of him as anything but that little curly-haired child. It feels like just yesterday that we were playing in our garden, watching him with those little hawk figurines, curled up in that stuffed armchair reading the story of Agarre the Giantslayer.”
“A mother’s love knows no bounds, no time or distance,” Ria said. “Yet it also suffocates young men and women who need their freedom to test themselves, to make mistakes, to face hardships.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t come here for advice on how to care for our son.” Ilanna spoke in mock seriousness, which only made Ria grin wider. “I’m a very busy Guild Master, after all.”
Ria laughed, a warm sound that Ilanna still found so attractive, so comforting. Hard to imagine that she was once afraid of her own shadow.
She had found Ria enslaved in an illicit brothel and, after killing off all the pimps, had brought the young girl home. Ria had been a kindred spirit, her inner strength undimmed by the suffering she’d faced. It had been Ria who saved Kodyn’s life when the Bloody Hand burned down Ilanna’s house. The Ghandian woman had come to love Kodyn with a ferocity to match Ilanna’s, just one of the things that had made Ilanna fall for her in the first place.
“Did you find anything about Chantelle?” Ilanna asked.
Ria’s laughter died and her smile faded to a frown. “No.” She shook her head. “None of the girls knew anything about why Chantelle was away from The Gilded Chateau that night. When I asked Celesa and the other Phoenixes, none of them saw Chantelle leave.”
“And yet she did.�
� Ilanna tugged at her lip as she pondered the problem.
“Before you even think it,” Ria said, “none of my apprentices are to blame. The Phoenixes are loyal to the House, and specifically to me and you for what we did for them. If any of them knew anything, they’d say.”
“I know.” Ilanna gave a dismissive wave. “I have never doubted House Phoenix. I trust their Master implicitly.” She grinned at Ria. “But maybe one of the working girls knows something and is too afraid to speak up.”
“I thought of that.” Ria nodded. “I’ve told my Phoenixes to speak to each of the girls one at a time and get anything they can out of them. If any of them know something, we’ll find it out.”
“Good.” Ilanna let out a long sigh. “Duke Phonnis isn’t going to let these murders go. He doesn’t give a damn about dead prostitutes, but if he can use it to shut us down, he’ll sing the bloody hell out of that tune.”
“I’ll find out,” Ria said. Her face clouded. “It’s the least we can do for Chantelle.”
“Hey.” Ilanna’s voice was firm. “This isn’t your fault. You’re doing everything you can for them, Ria.”
“Not protect them, it seems.” Bitter remorse edged Ria’s words.
“You have, more than any of them will ever realize.” Ilanna reached across and squeezed Ria’s hand. “You’ve made all their lives better. They were living in filth and misery, virtually slaves to their pimps and Madames. Everything has improved since you created House Phoenix.”
Ria drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “You’re right.” She gave Ilanna a little grin, clearly forced.
“Let nothing stand in your way,” Ilanna said in a quiet voice. “Certainly not guilt or remorse over Chantelle’s death. Use it, let it drive you.” She stood and raised a clenched fist. “Nothing will stop us from finding the bastard that’s killing people. And when we do, we carve out his heart and shove it down his throat.”
Darkblade Justice: An Epic Fantasy Murder Mystery (Hero of Darkness Book 7) Page 6