Reign of Madness (Revised Edition) (17 page)

Quey whimpered as he slid to the floor. Rezkin frowned. “You
are a large man, Quey. I do not want to have to move you. You are in the wrong
place.”

“Y-You w-w-want me t-to go over there just s-so you can
k-k-kill me!” Quey stammered in a panic.

“Of course, Quey. This is your execution,” Rezkin stated
coldly. “Did most of your victims not walk to their own deaths upon the
gallows?”

“Th-That was different! They were found guilty!” Quey
whined.

“I find
you
guilty, Tanning Quey. Now, get up and
walk over here, or I will make you, and it will be needlessly painful,” Rezkin
ordered as he drew his stiletto and twirled it around his fingers in the
lantern light. He had found that, for some reason, stilettos were always more
intimidating than a normal dagger. At least, that had been his experience with
those he had tortured under his masters’ supervision. Torture had been one of
the
Skills
Rezkin found most distasteful, but he recognized the
occasional need. It was really only useful, though, for gaining information
that could be confirmed, since people will say anything to escape the pain. The
simple threat of torture worked on the mayor, though. He shook and cried as he
crawled on hands and knees across the floor to kneel at Rezkin’s feet.

Looking up at Rezkin imploringly, he begged, “P-P-Please,
you do not have to do this!”

Rezkin smiled cruelly for effect. In truth, he felt nothing
for the man’s sniveling or for the deaths. He did have a small sense of
satisfaction over ridding the city of these filthy predators. These were some
of the worst kind.

“No, you are correct. I do not
have
to do this, just
like you did not
have
to kill your victims. But, I am going to do it
anyway, just like
you
,” Rezkin replied, “except that
your
victims
were innocent, while
you
are a murderer. But, I will make you a deal. If
you can land one hit to my face, I will let you live.”

The idea was absurd, but the desperate man clung to the
slightest hope. The portly mayor dragged himself to his feet and then swung at
Rezkin. Rezkin blocked as he had with the magistrate, but the mayor was not so
easily deterred. He swung again with his other fist. After several attempts,
Rezkin decided the man’s knuckles were sufficiently split and bloodied. Rezkin
punched the mayor in the face hard enough to make him stagger.

The warrior examined the facial wound. Satisfied, he drew
the dagger from Quey’s belt. The man had not even thought to draw it in
self-defense. Rezkin decided neither of these men had a very strong survival instinct.
Rezkin propped the magistrate across the desk and then yanked the dazed mayor
back into position. Standing aside, Rezkin drove the dagger into the man’s
chest. Blood sprayed over the body of the magistrate and across the desk as
Quey gasped and clutched at the hilt. Jiruthis’s bloody body slid to the floor.
Rezkin’s strike was slightly off, as planned, so the mayor did not die
instantly. The man teetered and staggered and then stumbled toward the door
before he fell face down on the floorboards. Rezkin walked around the scene
observing with a critical eye. He dabbed a bit of blood across Jiruthis’s hand
so it looked like he had been holding the dagger when it plunged into the
mayor’s chest.

An outsider would interpret the scene as though the mayor
and former magistrate were involved in a struggle. Jiruthis got one good hit on
the mayor, and then Quey pummeled the magistrate. Quey backed the magistrate
over his desk, at which point Jiruthis drew Quey’s knife from his belt and
stabbed the mayor in the chest. The mayor grabbed the decanter and smashed the
magistrate in the head before stumbling toward the door and dropping dead. No
evidence could be gleaned of Rezkin’s presence.

Rezkin shook his head. The scene had only been easy to set
up because both of the men were so inept. If either of them had bothered to
practice any of the
Skills
it would have been much more difficult for
Rezkin. The young warrior had considered turning the men in for an official
trial, but he wanted to make sure things were done right. He did not want
either of them using their pull to escape justice. The young warrior collected
the book and rifled through a number of papers on the desk before clearing the
lock and leaving the room.

Rezkin really wanted to investigate some of the guards, but
he did not have the time. He considered that maybe some of their information
would be found in the book, and he could come back at a later date to deal with
them. The warrior moved through the darkness until he reached the building
where he stowed his gear. He climbed to the roof and changed his clothing.
Although he had checked himself over for blood spatter before leaving the
office, he could not be sure of his face since he did not have a mirror at the
time. The young warrior kept a small mirror for such purposes and for signaling
in his pack, but there was not yet enough light to use it. He wiped a damp
cloth over his face and neck and combed his hair before once again tying it
back into a queue. He then laid back on his pack and rested his eyes for an
hour before he had to return to the inn.

Kai noted Rezkin’s arrival in the room as the sky began to
lighten just before dawn. From out in the corridor, Rezkin swept the bar from
the door with practiced skill and such force that the dagger Kai had jammed
over the bar spun end over end into the air. The young man slipped in and
caught the dagger effortlessly before closing and barring the door once again.
He quietly stuck the dagger back into the hole Kai originally made.

“Done that a few times, have you?” Kai grumbled quietly so
as not to wake the mage.

Rezkin grunted and remarked, “Everyone needs a hobby.” It
was a phrase he had heard Tam mutter a few times with regard to his occasional
whittling.

The warrior made his way to his bed and tugged his second,
smaller bag off the floor. Rezkin went through his normal ablutions –
well, as normal as they were for
Lord Rezkin
. He stepped behind a
dressing screen that stood in the corner, not for any sense of modesty but so
that the locations and number of weapons he carried were concealed. He donned
dark brown breeches, a fresh white shirt, and a doublet of emerald green silk
with dark brown and beige embroidery. His hair was braided in the manner common
with the nobles and tied off with a gold silk ribbon. Stepping from behind the
screen, he pulled on his polished knee high boots and began repacking his
belongings.

Kai had already risen and dumped the used wash water from
the basin out the window into the alley. The older man refilled the basin and
set about washing as much of the blood, dirt, and grime from his face and body
as he could with such a small basin. Rezkin strode over and placed his shaving
kit on the table. Kai dumped the filthy water again and used a bit of fresh
water to address his facial hair. He did not remove it completely, but rather
cleaned it up until it resembled a respectable beard. Rezkin tossed the man a
clean, white shirt. Kai grunted as he noted the sleeves were slightly long,
since Rezkin was a bit taller with a longer reach.

When they were finished dressing, both men turned their eyes
to the sleeping mage. The man slept like the dead. They shook their heads.
Journeyman Wesson would have to learn to sleep lighter. Rezkin approached to
wake the mage but paused a few feet away when he felt a tingling crawl down his
spine.
Maybe the mage has survival instincts after all
, he thought.

“Mage,” he barked loudly. “It is time to wake. Dawn
approaches.” The journeyman still did not stir.

Kai strode over with a grin and said, “I will show you how
this is done.”

Rezkin grabbed the man’s shoulder and held him back. “Go no
further,” he said. The young warrior looked around and spied a dinner roll on
the tray left the previous night. The roll was hard, now, and perfect for waking
slumbering mages. He lobbed the roll at the journeyman’s head.

Wesson immediately woke and sat up with a start. Something
had struck him in the head. Or…he thought something had. Maybe it had been the
dream. He blinked a few times to clear the sleep and then noticed the two
rather large, imposing men staring at him. Kai’s hairy face split into a
massive grin.

“Did you throw something at me?” the mage asked in
disbelief.

The older man shook his head and stuck a thumb at Rezkin.
Rezkin said, “It is time to wake. First light will be here soon.” Frowning, he
said, “This is an ineffective shield if it will allow people to throw
projectiles at you. What if it had been a knife?”

Confusion crossed the mage’s face before he replied, “Oh,
well, it works on intent. I assume you did not
intend
to injure me
with…” he looked around and found the hardened bread, “…a roll?”

“Why would you design it in such a way?” Rezkin queried.

“It takes less energy to maintain while I am sleeping,”
Wesson explained.

“And if I
intended
to wake you with a crossbow bolt?”
Rezkin asked.

“The spell would hold. It would read your true intent to
cause me harm,” the mage replied as he ran a hand over his face in an attempt
to wipe away his grogginess.

“What if I was firing at Kai and missed?” Rezkin inquired.

“Oh, well, then I would be having a very bad day,” Wesson
conceded.

“Get dressed and packed,” Rezkin demanded. “We will return
within half a mark. Kai has an appointment with the baron. The others are
usually punctual, but you might check on them as well. Some of us had a late
night.”

Kai grunted. “Some more than others,” he muttered under his
breath.

“Wait!” Wesson called, but the men were already gone. One of
his questions had been answered, but it only opened up a dozen more. He sighed and
pulled himself from the bed.

When Rezkin and Kai entered the common room, Captain Jimson
and Lieutenant Drascon were already waiting. They all agreed to break their
fast after the proceedings, so they headed to the inn where the Baron was
staying. When they arrived, the baron’s son, Waylen, was partaking of his own
breakfast with a couple of guards in the baron’s service. Waylen stood and
greeted the party.

“I will go tell my father you are here,” the young man said
and then hurried from the room.

The guards nodded greetings to the soldiers and saluted
Rezkin with a “
my lord
” as they eyed the prisoner suspiciously. Only one
other patron graced the common room, and he was taking his meal in the corner
near the front window. He glanced their way occasionally, but otherwise seemed
fit to stay out of whatever business was going on with the soldiers. Only a few
moments passed before the baron descended the stairs with Waylen on his heals.

“Ah, Lord Rezkin,” the baron greeted, “good day to you.
Captain, Lieutenant.” He nodded to each of the men in greeting. Both soldiers
saluted and bowed slightly. “I apologize for the delay, but it has been an…
interesting
morning. We can get to that later, though. I trust you have come for the
impromptu trial you requested.”

“Yes,” Rezkin replied. “And, good day to you, Lord Nasque. I
do not expect this to take long. On behalf of the accused,” he nodded toward
Kai, “I request that all charges be dropped.”

“Dropped?” the baron asked in surprise. “This must be
interesting, indeed, if charges against the man who killed the mayor’s son are
to be dropped.”

“Yes, but first allow me to properly introduce the accused.”
Rezkin held a hand toward the prisoner and said, “This is
Striker
Zankai
Colguerun Tresdian, servant of the king.” Eyes widened and jaws dropped all
around.

“Striker?” the baron repeated.

Kai bowed slightly in greeting and replied, “Yes, Lord
Nasque, that I am.”

The baron grumbled as he motioned to a table set with
several chairs. “This sounds like a story I should like to hear. Please, let us
sit.” The men settled at the table, but Waylen stood a few feet back from his
father’s seat, looking on with wide-eyed interest.

“I am afraid there is nothing you will like about this tale,
Lord Nasque,” Kai informed. “You see, I have been on a sort of personal
sabbatical from my duties, and I was sitting in the Winding Vine having had a
bit too much ale…” Kai said as he continued the story. All of the men’s faces
turned dark when they heard of what Preson Quey had done to the tavern girl.
Their anger was only aggravated when they learned of Kai’s confrontation with
the man and the subsequent beating and
trial
.

“Why did you not mention you were a striker last night?” the
baron asked.

“Oh, I did, to Preson. But as I said, I took a few kicks to
the head and was dragged through the streets by my throat. Speaking and
producing coherent thoughts was a little beyond me at the time of the so-called
trial. Besides, neither the magistrate nor the mayor were exactly in a
listening mood,” Kai remarked. “If Lord Rezkin had not intervened, I would have
been buried or thrown to the wolves by now.”

“You knew he was a striker?” the baron questioned.

“I recognized him for what he was, but I would have
intervened in that farce of a trial regardless. I must say I worry for the
safety of the tavern girl. I fear the magistrate and mayor may have designs on
revenge,” Rezkin remarked with concern and compassion written across his face.

“Then, you have not heard?” the baron asked. “No, you would
not have. Jiruthis and Quey were both found dead only about an hour ago.”

“Dead? Someone killed them?” Kai asked in surprise. He
pointedly did
not
glance at his new liege.

“No, no,” Lord Nasque replied. “I had some of my own men examine
the scene once I was informed. It is pretty clear that they killed each other.”
The two guards at the table nodded solemnly, and Rezkin assumed these were the
two that had investigated.

“With this news, I think it is safe to assume they got into
a row over the scandal incited by Preson Quey and the magistrate’s subsequent
removal from office. It ended badly for both of them.”

“Well, I, for one, will admit to feeling no sorrow for their
passing. They defended a child rapist while sentencing an innocent man to
death,” Rezkin announced vehemently. “My only disappointment is that they will
not be tried, flogged and hanged publicly. They should have had to endure the
same treatment as did that poor girl and the striker.”

The baron nodded and said, “While I admire your passion and
sense of justice, Lord Rezkin, there is nothing to be done for it now. I will
have announcements made clearing the striker of any wrongdoing. The chargers
are dropped, of course. The truth will be known, except for the identity of the
girl. Where there is one occurrence of such an abuse of the legal system, there
are sure to be more. If the truth is revealed, people are more likely to come
forward. It saddens me to think of how much damage those two could have caused
over the years.”

“Lord Rezkin,” the baron said with a change of tone as he
focused on the young man. “I must thank you for bringing this matter to light.
It is not an easy thing to stand up to an angry mob and men of authority. I
realize you hold your own noble authority superior to theirs, but not every man
is willing or able to withstand such confrontation. You did so not even knowing
if the man for whom you spoke was innocent or guilty.”

“Thank you, Baron, for saying so, but your thanks is not
necessary. That the truth was revealed and an innocent man saved was enough,”
Rezkin replied graciously.

“Oh, but your actions show a strength of character not often
seen these days,” the baron remarked. “I think it is safe to assume this was
not an isolated incident, since you seem to have garnered the respect of both
the Jebais and Tieran Nirius – not an easy feat, that one.” The baron
rubbed his jaw as his eyes looked distantly into the past. “If I remember
correctly, that boy was somewhat of a terror in his youth – or perhaps
not even that long ago, from the rumors I hear.” He grinned sheepishly and
said, “I would appreciate you not telling him I said so, though.”

Rezkin laughed freely and remarked, “My first meeting with
the duke’s son was volatile, for certain. It began with him insulting my
Girl
Friend
and ended with me promising to kill him if he did not make amends.”

The baron’s eyes widened as he exclaimed, “You threatened to
kill the duke’s heir? How did that go for you?”

Rezkin smiled and said, “He apologized, of course.”

Lord Nasque’s brows drew together, and he shook his head in
disbelief. “Well, he seems to consider you a friend, now.”

The warrior shrugged. “Perhaps. If our business here is done,
then, we shall go. Kai will be traveling with us, and he needs to collect his
things. We must also collect our companions and depart. I believe the sun has
just risen.”

“So it has,” the baron agreed. “We will see you at the
docks.”

After the men left the inn, Kai assured Rezkin that he could
collect his belongings on his own and find his way to the docks.

“No, Kai. Your innocence has yet to be made known to the
public, and there may still be those who seek revenge. I will accompany you,”
Rezkin argued. “The captain and lieutenant may return to the inn.”

Jimson chuckled, “Between the two of you, I think you can
handle anything that might occur. We will make sure the others are ready to
leave on time.”

The room Kai rented was not far, and the two were able to
collect the man’s belongings with little more than a few angry or uneasy stares
and furtive whispers. They found themselves back at the inn with just enough
time to grab a quick bite to eat and collect their belongings. The others were
gathered in the common room when they descended the stairs.

Tam, Frisha and Millins watched Kai curiously. Reaylin
seemed surprised to see the man up and moving around in such good health. She
smiled slightly to herself, but when she realized Rezkin had witnessed the look,
she scowled and turned away.

“Kai, allow me to introduce Lady Frisha, Master Tam and
Sergeant Millins. You already know Reaylin,” Rezkin stated. Motioning to the
older man, he continued, “This is Striker Zankai Tresdian.”

Tam’s mouth dropped open, and Frisha’s lips pursed in an ‘o’
with surprise. Kai laughed merrily and said, “Please, just call me Kai. It is a
pleasure to meet you. Lady Frisha, you must be the girlfriend of whom Rezkin
speaks so highly.”

Frisha blushed and glanced at Rezkin whose face was
unreadable. “Um, yes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Kai. I assume the business
with um…you know…ah…the magistrate has been concluded?” she asked tentatively.

Kai chuckled, “The magistrate is dead and I am free, so,
yes, I would say it is concluded.”

Frisha and Tam were alarmed, and their worried eyes found
Rezkin. He shrugged and said, “The baron informed us that the magistrate and
mayor killed each other during a row sometime in the night. He also dropped the
charges against Kai since he was fully within his rights as a striker, but that
is a long story we may go into later. It is time we head to the docks.”