A Dance Of Death s-3 Page 11

  Finished, she stashed a small sum of silver in her pocket, belted a dagger to her waist, and went to Zusa’s room. It was still dark, and she heard heavy breathing from the bed. Alyssa shook her head. She’d have welcomed the company, but whatever the faceless woman had endured the night before had taken a hefty toll. Let her rest, she thought. Come nightfall, she’d need Zusa’s strength to keep her promise to the Watcher. She closed the door, pulled her hat lower over her face, and headed to the servants’ back entrance.

  Torgar was waiting there as she’d requested.

  “Got somewhere secret to be?” he asked.

  “Just take me to the gate,” she said coldly. “And remember how much I paid you.”

  He patted his pocket, rattling the gold within.

  “It’ll be hard to forget, not for many glorious nights of drinking and whoring. My tongue’s yours, milady.”

  She hated his lecherous grin, but she bowed her head and gestured for him to lead the way. Following behind as if she were a simple servant on errand, she kept her head low and did not make eye contact with any of the other guards patrolling the area.

  “Stay safe,” he said when she was at the street, and he shut the gates. “It’s a scary place out there for lonely ladies…especially ones who ain’t looking like they should.”

  Alyssa ignored him, and with as much speed as she could muster without looking suspicious, she hurried toward the outer sections the city. The streets grew less crowded as she moved further away from the docks and into the slums of Angelport. Most ignored her, only a few tossing her strange looks. Glancing down at her clothes, all spotless and clean, made her realize how naive she’d been. Simply wearing their clothes would not make her look like one of them. Desperately wishing she’d waken Zusa, she continued on, her jaw clenched to hide her growing fear.

  She reached her destination without incident, and sighed with relief. It seemed no one had recognized her. She knocked twice, waited, then twice more. From the opposite side, she heard a click, and then the door swung open. Stepping inside the small building, Alyssa removed her hat and bowed.

  “My, my,” said Graeven, bowing in return. All around him, the gathered elves glanced their way. “For what reason does our gracious hostess come to pay us a visit?”

  Alyssa looked about, counting the number of elves in the two-bedroom home. At least thirty, if not more.

  “Are the accommodations sufficient?” she asked, smoothing out her shirt, which had wrinkled from her walk, the cotton inferior in quality to what she was used to.

  “Cramped, but we cannot complain,” Graeven said. “I doubt Lord Ingram would have given us anything as welcoming. Lice-ridden beds and rat-infested walls do not suit me, nor would staying outside the city like unwelcome invaders.”

  “Though we are unwelcome,” said a lady elf, who came and gracefully curtseyed to Alyssa. “Lady Gemcroft, I assume?”

  “Indeed,” Alyssa said, returning the curtsey despite her lack of a dress. “May I have the pleasure of your name?”

  “Laryssa Sinistel,” she said, her voice oddly beautiful, like the soft sound of glass chimes. She wore a green dress shining with sapphires shaped like a hundred raindrops. Alyssa had to hide her shock upon hearing the name of the elven princess.

  “Your Highness,” she said, bowing low. “I am honored to be in your presence.”

  “You are one of the few in this city,” Laryssa said. “Words of welcome are not what your people gave to us as we entered the walls.” She glanced to Graeven, who sported a swollen cut above his right eye. “No, they hurled stones and curses. I once thought my people were rash to condemn humans, to be so eager for a cleansing war. Now I wonder.”

  “They are merely scared,” Graeven said. “They know little beyond what they are told. It is the human leaders we must convince, and they’ll make the rest of the populace follow.”

  “Perhaps,” Laryssa said, and she smiled again at Alyssa. “But we will discuss this all too soon with Lord Ingram and his various puppets. Let us not worry on this now. Why have you come, Lady Gemcroft?”

  Alyssa swallowed, and tried to remember every lesson she’d ever been taught. She’d have one chance at this. Originally, she’d thought to pitch it to the elven ambassador, but with Laryssa there, it was clear who would be in charge.

  “A friend of mine has been wrongfully imprisoned by Ingram,” she began.

  “Who?” asked Graeven, interrupting her.

  “A friend,” she said, struggling not to glare. “I have tried to convince Ingram to turn him over to me, but he refuses. He’ll execute him tonight, and I fear I can do nothing to stop him. I know the skill of your warriors, it is almost legendary to us humans. I ask that you free my friend and bring him to me for safety.”

  Laryssa’s oval face remained perfectly still as she listened, her blue eyes staring. Alyssa felt like the young child she was before the ancient elf. When she finished making her request, she crossed her hands behind her back and lowered her head, the best show of humility she could think of. Laryssa brushed aside the bangs of her hair, so blonde it was almost white.

  “What you ask could spark a war,” she said. “This friend must mean a lot to you.”

  “He once saved my son’s life. This is the least I can do in return.”

  “So honorable,” Graeven said, and he sounded amused.

  “And foolish,” Laryssa said. She gestured to the many other elves who lingered about in chairs and cross-legged on the floor. “We come to prevent a war, yet you would have us openly invite it? Freeing your friend would risk the deaths of my beloved friends and family, whom I have known for hundreds of years. Should Ingram’s guards die in the attempt, war could consume us all, and thousands more will perish on both sides. Is your friend worth that? To you, perhaps, but not me. We are thankful for your hospitality, Lady Gemcroft, but we will not perform such madness in payment.”

  “Surely the risk is not so great as that,” Graeven said, turning to his princess. “We could easily dispatch a handful of guards, and if done right, no one will know of any elven involvement.”

  “And what will we say if caught?” Laryssa asked. “That we did so at the request of a friend? We do not know this man, and have no interest to him. Any lie we offer will ring hollow, and I refuse to be put into such a position. I am sorry, Alyssa, but we can offer no aid.”

  Alyssa nodded, first hesitantly, then more firmly.

  “I understand,” she said. “Forgive me for wasting your time.”

  “Time with you is never wasted,” Graeven said, bowing low.

  “Hurry to your home,” Laryssa said. “Our first meeting with Ingram is soon, and I would wish you there to help us as promised.”

  “Of course.” Alyssa curtseyed, put her hat back on, then exited the home. Barely three steps out, the door reopened, and Graeven appeared.

  “Do not give up hope just yet,” he said, walking beside her. “You are a powerful woman with many resources. I lament Laryssa’s hesitance, but we may still help if only in secret. Should you rescue your friend, and need a place for him to hide…”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” she said, trying to disguise her impatience. “Now please, I don’t want to draw any…”

  “Say no more,” the ambassador said, offering her a wink. “Pleasant nights, milady.”

  With him gone, Alyssa returned to Laurie’s mansion. Waiting at the gate, Torgar shot her a pleased grin.

  “Did anyone notice my absence?” she asked.

  “All lips are sealed,” said the mercenary, opening the gate so she could enter. “Now hurry. Laurie’s already left for the meeting, and I think he’ll be quite unhappy if you’re not there with him.”

  9

  The dark void of Zusa’s sleep slowly filled with dreams, at first calm, then terrifying. She ran through the streets of Veldaren, lions giving chase. Fire consumed their enormous bodies, their roars thundering in her ears. High above shone a blood-red moon. Twice she turned to figh
t them, but she was naked, and held no weapons. At last she stumbled, and knew with absolute certainty they would fall upon her. She cried out, desperate for someone to save her, when the dark-red world turned bright.

  Zusa opened her eyes to see her door cracked open, allowing a sliver of light to lance across her face. She sat up, suddenly aware of her full bladder.

  “Who’s there?” she asked.

  The door opened further, and Alyssa stepped inside.

  “Let me light a lamp,” she said, closing the door for a few moments. Zusa took the time to relieve herself, then replace the chamber pot underneath her bed. Alyssa returned with a thin punk, the tip burning. She lit two separate lamps, giving a soft gold glow to the room. With the door closed once more, she sat down on the bed beside her.

  “How long did I sleep?” Zusa asked, rubbing her face with her hands. Normally she could awaken fully alert, but this time, it felt like sleep clung stubbornly to her mind.

  “About ten hours,” Alyssa said. “It is late afternoon.”

  Something gnawed at her, and then Zusa figured it out.

  “Where is Haern?”

  “Captured,” Alyssa said. Zusa felt a lump build in her throat, and then she saw her mistress’s hands were shaking. “Ingram has him in his dungeon. He plans on hanging him tonight, come sundown.”

  Zusa tried to think, and she bit down on her tongue to focus through the use of pain. It had to be remnants of Violet, she decided. Seeing Alyssa’s troubled mind, she thought of what else must have happened. Ten hours gone…that meant…

  “What of the meeting?” she asked. “Did that go well?”

  Alyssa sighed.

  “There are so many there. Laryssa and the elves, Ingram, his petty lords, and of course the Merchant Lords made sure their presence was felt. Nothing but an hour of shouting and accusations. Twice I swore it would turn to bloodshed. My head still hurts after that nonsense.”

  “Anything resolved?”

  The question evidently amused Alyssa immensely, and she laughed like one reaching the end of her sanity.

  “Ulrich and his Lords demanded concessions of land and a halt to the killings, Ingram implied he agreed without ever saying so, and the elves threatened war should they lose a single acre of forest. Laurie and I were the only ones who even knew the word compromise. Perhaps tomorrow will go better. I hope so…”

  “Forget about tomorrow,” Zusa said, wrapping her arms around Alyssa and pulling her close. Resting her head atop Alyssa’s, she stared into the flickering shadows of her room. “Haern hangs tonight, and I know that troubles you. Give me the word, and I will go.”

  “I can’t. I won’t let you get yourself killed trying to break into Ingram’s dungeon.”

  Zusa let her go, then removed her dress. She still felt weak, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if her fever remained. None of that mattered. Sitting naked on the bed, she began to put on her dark wrappings. Alyssa watched for a while, as if debating, then stood.

  “Let me get you something to eat,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  By the time Alyssa returned with a tray of bread and meat, Zusa had covered all but her face. She tore into the bread, relishing the taste of butter on her tongue. When she had first woken, her stomach felt cramped and angry, and she hadn’t thought she could eat much. Smelling the meat, and tasting the bread, had awakened a hunger that shocked her. She devoured the entire meal, wiped her lips on her wrist, and then began to cover her face with the last of her cloth wrappings.

  “Don’t get yourself killed,” Alyssa finally said, stepping behind Zusa and taking the cloth from her hands. “I’ll hate myself forever if you do.”

  “You’ll hate yourself even more if you do nothing,” Zusa said, smiling underneath her mask. When Alyssa finished tying the last strand, she gave her a kiss on the forehead.

  “Guards are nothing to me,” Zusa said. “Rest, and learn what you can about the Violet. I’ll return with Haern. I promise.”

  “I’ll show it to Laurie,” Alyssa said. “And I’ll hold you to that promise.”

  Zusa shot her a wink as she put on her cloak.

  “I’ve defeated dark paladins, mercenaries, and even fought the Watcher to a standstill. I fear no dungeons, Alyssa, no jailors. When I return, it will be with Haern, my promise unbroken.”

  Without another word she grabbed her daggers and dashed down the hall.

  In pure darkness Haern sat and listened to the distant moans. He could see their vague shapes through the bars of his cell, lit by light of slender windows that he now lacked. Not long after Alyssa’s departure, the jailor had come with a few bricks to jam into the window.

  “Consider yourself lucky,” the jailor had said. “They just want it dark. No clubs or pins for you. Damn shame. I’d have loved to make you sing.”

  Haern had given him no reply, for he had no fear of torture. He was the King’s Watcher of Veldaren, son of Thren Felhorn. To think a single lowly jailor could break him in a day was insulting.

  Hour by unknown hour, time passed. Haern tried praying to Ashhur, but each time he thought of the kid he’d killed in Veldaren, and of those who’d swung from gallows, his name on the lips of their executioner. His prayers stumbled and ended. Worse was Senke’s amulet of the Golden Mountain. They’d taken it from him before chaining him to the wall. He would have given anything to have that meager comfort hanging from his neck. Thinking of Senke only opened old wounds, and he tried to push the memory away, no easy task in the suffocating darkness. All the while, the wound in his shoulder ached with steady throbs.

  If he slept, he didn’t know it, but he must have. Something pressed against his shoulder, and he startled awake. He saw nothing close, but then a voice whispered in his ear. The sound chilled Haern’s blood, and for the first time, forced him to admit how vulnerable and helpless he was.

  “Greetings, Watcher,” whispered the Wraith. Haern could almost imagine his grin floating beside him. “I must admit, finding you chained like this disappoints me greatly.”

  “Why are you here?” Haern asked, keeping his own voice a whisper. He had no doubt the Wraith would execute him immediately should he try to catch the attention of the guards.

  “To talk to you, of course. Why else? I’ve given some thought to our last discussion, and I feel I judged you too quickly. I cannot have misread you so thoroughly after your domination of Veldaren. You see, Watcher, you’ve been dragged into a game with many pieces, yet you are ignorant of their positions on the board. There are few rules, and already you’ve broken one.”

  “And what rule is that?”

  “Never, ever let compassion blind you to the truth.”

  The Wraith chuckled. Something slender and sharp ran along Haern’s neck. When it pricked open a tiny cut, Haern didn’t even flinch.

  “Tell me, Watcher, do you know why the elves are here? How about the Trifect? Do you think Alyssa came here solely because of me? And what of the Merchant Lords? Have you wondered about their part to play in this, or do you even know who they are? You would condemn me for killing members from all parties, yet you know so little. You killed leaders of the Trifect and the thief guilds. The men and women I kill are no less guilty.”

  The side of the blade smacked the side of Haern’s face, and he felt blood trickle down his cheek from another cut.

  “Tell me, how am I different than you?”

  “I never reveled in my killings.”

  “You are wrong,” the Wraith whispered, his tone chilling. “These killings give me no pleasure, no joy. Perhaps with some of them I am amused by their deaths, but they are the truly despicable. Surely you cannot deny the same feeling as you slaughtered Veldaren’s worthless scum.”

  Haern turned toward the Wraith, and in the darkness, he thought he could see the faintest outline of the man’s hood.

  “Then why the grin?” he said.

  “In the face of such madness, what can one do but smile?”

  “And
kill.”

  The Wraith laughed.

  “Yes, and kill. Kill, as you have killed. Inspire fear, as you inspired fear. That night, I went to administer the same justice you have dealt out a hundred times. Why did you defend them, Watcher? I have tried to discover the answer, but nothing I’ve come up with seems satisfactory. Was it truly what you said?”

  “Innocents would die. I had no choice.”

  “Innocents always die. Do you think your little games in Veldaren harmed only the guilty?”

  “Not children!”

  A hand pressed over his mouth.

  “Quiet, fool,” the Wraith whispered. “Such outbursts…and why do we speak of children? Does your conscience suffer? Is that what prevents you from thinking clearly? Children suffer through the actions of their fathers and rulers. Nothing will ever change that. Would you let the faults of this world prevent you from fixing that which can be made better? You coated your swords with blood to end the struggle between the guilds and the Trifect. Why do you hesitate to do so again?”

  Haern closed his eyes and tried to think. Too much made sense. Too much of what the Wraith said struck home. Did he really think he’d been above it all when he slaughtered members of the thief guilds? He’d done it in the name of peace and safety. What of the Wraith? What guided his actions? The man was right; he knew far too little of the games nobles and merchants played in Angelport. Swallowing his pride and anger, he spoke words that tasted bitter on his tongue.

  “What is it you hope for? If I’m to help you, I must know the end you seek.”

  “The end is precisely what I seek. You’ve walked into a house of cards, Watcher. I will bring it all crumbling down. Every piece, every player, seeks to flood Neldar with drugs and war. Ask questions. Open your eyes. If I told you, you would not believe me, so hear it from their own lips. Then come to me, and try to tell me I am in the wrong.”