Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) (18 page)

The young warrior led the Sneak to an upscale inn where many
of the more affluent nobles resided when they were traveling through the great
trade city. He pointed to a dark second floor window and informed Benni that
the young man’s job was to collect any correspondence he could find within in
the room. He was to enter and leave without being detected.

Rezkin monitored the young man as he scaled the building and
pried the window open. Benni was out of sight for several minutes before he
reappeared in the same window. Benni made his way down the building and crossed
back over the dark road to where the Master waited. What the young Sneak did
not know was that his new Master had followed him up the building and had
observed the young man’s every move. Rezkin spent the next several minutes
detailing the thief’s mistakes and giving him the opportunity to suggest ways
he might improve.

The Master looked over the documents the young man had
obtained, made several mental notes and then sent the young man back into the
building to replace the documents from whence they came. Rezkin also instructed
Benni to correct the mistakes he had made within the room ensuring that it was
put back in order so that no one would ever suspect the room had been
compromised.

The young man was a decent Sneak, Rezkin supposed, but far
from a Master. He would make a good apprentice and had the potential to one day
become a master in his own right. Rezkin did not have the time to teach the
young man, however.

“How is it that you are the best Sneak the guild possesses?”
Rezkin inquired.

Benni ducked his head in embarrassment that he had not lived
up to the Master’s standards. He was still astonished at the Master’s knowledge
and abilities. He had never seen anyone so skilled – or rather,
not
seen him. “Well, it’s the guild, Master. The Diamond Claws ain’t known for
Sneaks. We’re more of a
business enterprise
, as the old Master always
said. You know, the Enforcers…they go ‘round collectin’
taxes
from the
shop owners and such. The really skilled Sneaks is in the Serpents.”

“Yet, you belong to the Diamond Claws,” Rezkin noted.

“Well, yeah. They got me and marked me when I could barely
walk,” he said as he pulled up his sleeve. The tattoo was faded and slightly
stretched and distorted from Benni’s growth. “I’ve always been small. Weren’t
no good for bein’ an enforcer. I was always runnin’ and hidin’ from the bigger
boys. Turned out it did me some good. Rom convinced that Master I’d make a good
Sneak.”

Rezkin nodded understanding. It seemed Rom had a soft spot
for the underdogs. He had taken an awkward girl and a scrawny runt under his
wing and helped them find a place in the guild where they would be relatively
protected from the violence and terror the others endured – those like
Broken, Cracker and Ash.

It was quite late, and Rezkin had only a day before he was
scheduled to leave Justain – one day to secure his power over the
underworld of Justain.  Rezkin handed Benni a few coppers to cover the
cost of another meat pie and ordered the young man to meet him at dawn at a
designated location on the docks.

When Rezkin returned to the inn late in the night, his
innocuous roommate, Tamarin Blackwater, was sound asleep. The young warrior
decided that Tam must have a very poor survival instinct to sleep so soundly,
especially knowing a stranger would be sharing his room. The young man could
probably sleep through a stampede of northern bison. Luckily for Tam, Rezkin
held no ill intent toward the young man. In fact, Rezkin had every intention of
providing Tam and Frisha, both, with the protection he had promised, the
protection he was obliged to extend under
Rule 1
.

The following morning, Rezkin rose early, as usual. He cut
his morning training routine short, only practicing his various combat
techniques and weapons skills for an hour. He fed and watered Pride and then
rinsed the sweat from his body and donned his armor, securing as many concealed
weapons on his person as he could fit. He departed before Tam awoke, leaving
only a note indicating that Tam and Frisha should stay together at all times
and remain near the inn. He mentioned that he had heard rumor of a war breaking
out amongst the criminal elements of the city, and implored his two
friends
to
remain safe while he secured their travel supplies and arrangements.

When Tam read the missive, he was more than happy to remain
in the inn and was once again grateful that he and Frisha had found someone so
capable with whom to travel. Frisha was a little disappointed because she
wanted to see more of the city. She had heard that several of the gardens near
the governor’s grand estate were quite lovely. While the two travelers were
taking their breakfast in the common room, however, a town crier stopped not
far from the open windows. From their vantage, Frisha and Tam were able to see
and hear the crier clearly. He was telling of a large number of corpses
belonging to members of one of the larger thieves’ guilds being lined up along
the river.

The other patrons at the surrounding tables quickly took to
gossiping and speculation. Most agreed that it must be a war between guilds.
Some of the more optimistic flibbertigibbets wanted to believe it was the
governor or even the king’s doing. What all agreed upon, though, was that it
seemed someone was sending a message. Some said the message was a warning,
others claimed it a promise.

What the patrons only discussed in fear-filled whispers was
the fact that each of the victims wore a fresh tattoo upon his or her forehead.
Each was marked with a black raven. In myth and legend, the raven was the
symbol of the deliverer of the dead. The winged creatures collected the souls
of the deceased and delivered them to the Afterlife. Although the birds were
often referred to as scavengers, anyone who had seen them hunt knew they were
just as effective as birds of prey as were kites and hawks. While most agreed
the stories of them collecting souls were mere superstition, almost everyone
secretly harbored weariness for the dark birds – just as most men scoffed
at the idea of ghosts and still trembled in the dark when alone.

After hearing the news, Frisha made no more complaints about
staying at the inn for the day. She and Tam could only wonder as to how Rezkin
heard the news before the crier had delivered it. They decided their mysterious
companion had probably spoken to one of the city guards before heading out for
supplies. Tam and Frisha were both still anxious about having offended their
new friend the previous day. They had not seen him since their confrontation
regarding his treatment of the riverboat manager. Frisha, in particular, hoped
to apologize soon. She truly did not wish for the object of all of her latest
fantasies to change his mind about traveling with them.

Rezkin arrived at the docks slightly before dawn. He had
observed the guild’s handiwork lying along the riverbank and was curious about
the marks left on the foreheads of the bodies. When Benni arrived, though, the
warrior had thoughts only for the mission. This morning, they would visit the
Serpents’ Guild. Rezkin had donned the worn brown cloak over his armor, and he
pulled the hood low over his face as he approached the “abandoned” storehouse
the Serpents’ Guild was currently using as a headquarters. All of the guilds
moved their headquarters every few weeks to prevent the city guard from
organizing against them. Many of the city guard members were actually on the
various guilds’ payrolls, though, so it was unlikely anyone would develop an
effective anti-theft initiative.

Benni stood several paces from the Master as he approached
their rival guild’s hall. He could not believe the Master would be so reckless
as to show up in the open at the Serpents’ headquarters basically alone. The
young Sneak knew he would be essentially no help if things went bad.

Rezkin strode up to the guild house where two sentries, brawlers
by the looks of them, lounged casually against the weathered wooden planks of
the storehouse. They gave the appearance that they were simply sitting around
bored with nothing better to do, but Rezkin knew otherwise. He also noted the
crossbowman on the roof. It seemed the Serpents were taking no chances after
the attack and takeover of the Diamond Claw Guild the previous night. The
cloaked warrior stopped several paces from the steps leading into the
storehouse and waited.

“Who are you? What do ya want?” asked one scruffy man as he
clutched the handle of a dagger at his waist.

“I am here to see the Guildmaster,” Rezkin stated.

“Yeah, and who’re you ta be askin’ ta see the Master?” the
second guard asked.

“My name is unimportant. I have a proposition for the
Guildmaster,” the warrior replied.

“Well, I gotta proposition fer yer momma!” said the first
guard as he clutched at his crotch in a crude gesture.

“Your words mean nothing to me. I
will
see the Guildmaster.
Whether or not you live to witness it is up to you,” Rezkin responded.

“Ain’t nobody getting’ in ‘ere without our say so, so you
best bug off, you gutterbred bastard,” guard two said.

Rezkin cocked his head and replied, “Perhaps you should inform
the Guildmaster that I am here before you make your demands…or do you believe
that
you
speak for your Master?”

The first guard scowled angrily, but the second looked
unsure as he glanced to his partner for reassurance. The first made a slight
flicking motion with his finger just before the crossbowman on the roof
released a bolt. Rezkin felt a flood of the familiar battle energy he usually
experienced before serious combat. He spun with the speed of the bolt,
snatching it out of the air. On the return spin, he lobbed the bolt back at its
sender, striking the man in the throat. The young crossbowman reached up and
grabbed at the protruding object as he struggled for breath. Losing his balance
he fell over the lip of the roof and struck the cobbled street with a crunch.
With the guards’ attention on the dead man only a few paces away, Rezkin
flicked two daggers into his hands. He took several steps forward and spun the
daggers for no other reason than to make their presence known and intimidate
the offensive men.

“Would you like to join him, or will you be informing the
Guildmaster of my presence?” Rezkin asked, his voice deepening to a dangerous
pitch.

The second guard did not even glance at his partner before
he jerked the door open and disappeared into the dark interior of the
storehouse. Benni was stunned when he saw the ease with which the Master dealt
with the rooftop crossbowman. He had thought for certain their lives were
forfeit when he saw the ranged weapon pointed at them.

The first guard stood with his sword half drawn as he fumed
with anger, his nostrils flaring and jaw clenched. He took a step forward and
then thought better of the action and stepped back again. It was obvious he
wanted to attack Rezkin but feared the odds of surviving.

A sensibly dressed man who looked more like a profitable
businessman than a thief emerged from the door followed quickly by the second
guard. The man was of average height and well groomed with smooth features and
a sturdy build. He wore a dark grey and charcoal colored suit with silver
buckles. Overall, he looked completely out of place in the broken down dockside
storehouse.

“So, are you he? You are the one they call The Raven?” the
man asked in a well-bred accent.

Rezkin raised a brow and answered, “Am I? Perhaps. You are?”

The well-dressed man stood with one hand clutching his lapel
in gentlemanly fashion and the other arm casually resting behind his back, no
doubt holding a weapon of some sort. “I am Adsden, Second of the Serpent
Guild.”

Rezkin nodded politely in greeting and replied, “I have come
to speak with the Guildmaster. I have a proposition for him.”

Adsden’s lip quirked ever so slightly. “This would not
happen to be the same proposition you offered to the Diamond Claw Guild, would
it?”

The young warrior smiled cordially and replied, “The very
same.”

“Many of their highest members now line the riverbank”
Adsden remarked.

“They rejected my offer. I was forced to ensure the Diamond
Claw Guild’s compliance. Things need not get messy provided the Serpent Guild
proves to be more…accommodating,” Rezkin replied cordially.

“You do not appear to be the rabid killer of whom I heard
tell,” the Second observed.

“A killer, yes. Rabid, no,” Rezkin replied without hint of
guilt or remorse.

“I respect a man who acknowledges his own dark deeds without
excuse. Martius was never the kind of man from whom one could expect even a
semblance of refinement. I am afraid you will find Urek to be much the same,
despite his upbringing. Please, come with me. I guarantee your safety at least
as far as Urek’s study. After that, you are on your own,” explained Adsden.

Rezkin was not about to trust the man, but at least he would
be permitted entry into the guild house. He did not relish the idea of fighting
his way into the facility just to reach the guildmaster. Thus far, it seemed
his newly minted reputation had fostered the kind of reaction he desired.
“Come, Benni. You are with me.”

The young Sneak was now shaking harder than he ever had in
his sixteen years of living amongst thieves, brutes and murderers. He could
barely move his feet as he ambled forward. When he reached the steps where
stood the Serpent Guild guards, he thought he might lose his bladder. He was
literally entering the serpent’s den, and he was certain he would not be leaving
alive. The young man did not imagine the Master would look kindly on his
failure to comply with orders. If he failed to do as the Master commanded, he
would likewise die.

Although at times the Master seemed friendly and perhaps
even compassionate, Benni had seen the man deliver death with cold
indifference. Even if the Master had a plan to survive this encounter, he
doubted the man cared enough to ensure he, too, would prevail. With heavy boots
and an even heavier heart, Benni stepped through the doorway into the Serpents’
lair.

Rezkin walked beside Adsden through the dark storehouse. It
was not unlike the storehouse inhabited by the Slink Den except that this one
was larger and actually contained goods and supplies, presumably black market
goods pilfered from cargo ships and caravans. This one lacked the dirty, smelly
small-men and women. Behind a large stack of crates sat several large men
around a table. They were chewing crass root and rolling dice as they shouted
and grumbled over the results. All action stopped as the hooded stranger and
the young man were led through their midst.

Benni shrunk into himself as he passed the table. He wished
he could slip into the shadows and disappear. The young Sneak had always hoped
to catch the Guildmaster’s attention and attain a higher position in the guild,
but he had never thought it would lead to this. This was complete insanity, and
he was not entirely sure, at this point, that the new Master was not insane as
well.

Beyond a temporary partition were a number of rough looking
men wielding sharp weapons. Every one of them was on edge, no doubt having
heard by now that the so-called Raven was in their midst. They all watched the
brown-cloaked figure as lions would assess a rival for their king. Each one was
sizing him up and essentially ignoring Benni, to the young Sneak’s relief.
Rezkin’s masters had impressed upon him the need to
live
each role he
played. He had to believe the ruse before others would. Once he held his belief
in his mind, he exuded confidence and practically willed others to accept him
for the image he portrayed. In this case, he was a man to be feared, a man to
be obeyed without question.

Adsden stopped beside an open door as the armed men
surrounded Rezkin and Benni. The young Sneak could not believe how calm and
unconcerned the Master appeared while surrounded by homicidal enemies. Rezkin
passed through the doorway leaving the men behind and strode to the center of
the room as he surveyed the surroundings. Benni entered and immediately slid along
the back wall in hopes of being forgotten. Adsden stood in the doorway leaning
nonchalantly against the frame. He looked surprisingly pleased, which made
Benni all the more anxious.

The
study
was larger than expected. It easily made up
for a quarter of the storehouse. The vast space was filled with luxury items to
rival any lord. The desk was hard kendlewood imported from Ferélle. Crystal
bottles, no doubt containing expensive liquors, lined silver trays upon which
also sat several crystal goblets. Thick silk and velvet drapes covered
paintings hung to look like windows through which one could view ethereal
landscapes, and a plush woven Channerían rug covered the fatigued floorboards.
In fact, the only element that was out of place was the man sitting behind the
desk.

Guildmaster Urek leaned back in a plush reclining chair with
his muddy boots discourteously propped up on the opulent desk. He was a
disgusting man. Nearing fifty, what was left of his greasy hair was combed over
in a futile attempt to cover his bald pate. His outdated, once luxurious coat
strained at the seam where it struggled to contain his rotund belly, and his
jowls and multiple chins jiggled with every movement of his full-lipped mouth.
Beady grey eyes glared hatefully at the intruders who threatened his inglorious
reign over the Serpent Guild.