Night guild 3, p.19
Night Guild 3, page 19
“Then may I ask, Your Majesty, exactly who it was who your messenger spoke to in the Twelve Isles?”
“I believe he spoke to a member of the Night Guild Council. A woman by the name of Lera.”
Ronan was careful to make no sign of his reaction.
Lera. She had been Tarquin’s right hand, a most high-ranking member of the Night Guild, second only to the Guildmaster himself. She had taken the message that the King of Ghennet required the Night Guild to assassinate Kaishog and undermine the Silent Brotherhood, but she had not passed the message on.
It was just good fortune that Ronan and his friends had shown up when they had, carrying out the commission without having ever known the message had been sent.
Good fortune… or fate?
Who was Lera, really? A member of the Silent Brotherhood? A sleeper agent for them? Or someone else, working for some other organization that Ronan had not heard about yet?
Possibilities raced through Ronan’s mind as he processed this new information, but then he put the matter to one side. The king was looking at Ronan steadily, waiting. There was a knowing look in his eye.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Ronan said. “That is all I want to know.”
“Will you take the payment for the task?” the king said. “I have the gold put aside and can call my treasurer for it straight away…”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ronan said. “I bring word from the Guild that this job is our gift to you. We do not require payment. All we ask is that your kingdom maintains good relations with the Twelve Isles. It’s just possible that the Night Guild may need your help at some point.”
The king’s brow darkened. “This is a little irregular,” he said. “I would almost prefer to simply pay the gold, but I think there is something more to this that you are not telling me.”
Ronan looked sharply at him. “What do you mean?”
The old king gave Ronan a shrewd look. “I may be old, but I am not deaf. I can recognize a voice as well as the next man, and probably better than many, Ronan Renzo. I say there is more going on here because I think I recognize the voice of the man who took out Kaishog for me, when the cursed gold skull was going to choke the life from me. I recognize you, young assassin. I know something of the Night Guild, you see. Old Tarquin is a friend of mine, and when I was younger, and still just crown prince, I spent time in the Twelve Isles. I learned some swordsmanship at a fighter guild, and by special arrangement, I even learned a thing or two from the Night Guild, strictly on the quiet, you understand. I spent a year there as an honorary trainee, and I learned to keep my eyes open. I’m sure you’ll agree that such things have a way of sticking with a man.”
The king chuckled at Ronan’s look of chagrin. “Don’t worry,” the old man said, grinning. “I won’t tell Tarquin… probably. And most men would not have recognized you out of context. You’re doing well, though you’re surprisingly young for such a high-end mission. Can’t be much above Sinew, can you?”
Ronan’s eyes widened as he heard the king refer to the secret internal grading order of the guild apprentices. “Skin level, actually,” he said, “but how do you…?”
“Like I said, I trained at the guild informally for a while, due to my connections to the old guildmaster. But how is Tarquin? And what’s this all about? I hear rumors — rumors of dragons! Surely that cannot be so?”
“It is,” Ronan said. “And it’s part of a much bigger story. How much do you want to know?”
The king looked at him steadily for a long moment. “I believe,” he said at last, “that you would tell me the whole story if I asked you. But I do not ask you. I appreciate your trust, but sometimes it is best not to know. What I don’t know, I can deny. I am not a good liar. That is one thing that the Night Guild never did manage to teach me, and it’s a weakness in a king. Don’t tell me all, but tell me this: what of the dragons? Can they really be coming back into the world? There were rumors for a long time that the Silent Brotherhood were trying to bring them back, but toward the end — when it was too late — I realized that the opposite was true.”
“The dragons are returning,” Ronan said. “The prophecy of the dragons is coming true, and the fates are aligning to bring certain people into situations where they can help to bring about that fate. I am one of those people.”
The king nodded. “I believe it would be a good thing,” he said. He leaned forward in his chair. “Between ourselves, this exclusive Mala worship never seemed healthy to me. I prefer the way of the Twelve Isles or Oretum, where the worship of many gods is permitted, and people can get help from whatever deities they need, whenever they need. Now that the brotherhood is no more, I hope that in time Ghennet may get back to that more tolerant stance in the world.”
“That would be a very good thing,” Ronan said. “Have you heard the news from the Twelve Isles, then?”
The king shook his head.
“Tarquin has been imprisoned,” Ronan told him. “For treason.”
The king gasped in shock. “Treason? My old friend Tarquin? Impossible!”
“It is indeed impossible,” Ronan agreed. “He has been the victim of a plot by those who would stop the return of the dragons. They have infiltrated the highest echelons of the Night Guild. In truth, that’s why I wanted to know who your messenger had spoken to. I have… or had… a way of communicating with Tarquin from a distance. I learned from him that your message never reached him. The only explanation is that Guildswoman Lera, Tarquin’s close confidant, is a traitor.”
“The Silent Brotherhood,” the king said, smacking his balled fist into the palm of his hand. “Curse them and their dirty tricks!”
“The brotherhood may be no more here in Ghennet, but their influence is still strong back in Trentum. They may not be able to stop the return of the dragons, but they will take their revenge on the Night Guild and on Tarquin if we let them. But a Guild commission is sacred. If we can prove — through your testimony and the testimony of your messenger — that Guildswoman Lera deliberately withheld a Night Guild commission from the King of Ghennet to the guildmaster, then we will be well on our way to proving a charge of treason against her and freeing Tarquin.”
“You will have my help, of course!” the king said with feeling. “I am glad things are more open between us, Ronan. What will you do now?”
“I must get back to the Twelve Isles without delay,” Ronan replied. “Once I get there, I will set myself to hunt down and expose the true traitors and clear Guildmaster Tarquin’s name.”
The king nodded thoughtfully. “I will call my scribe and also the messenger who went to the Twelve Isles with the message. We will have a document made up immediately, in which I will sign and seal a statement to the effect that I sent the message and that my messenger spoke to this Guildswoman Lera. You will take that signed statement away with you, so you can produce it when you need proof. If you need any other proof, send me a message or come yourself.”
He thought for a moment, then reached to his neck and removed a gold chain with a red jewel pendant from around his neck. “Take this,” he said. “And if you need to send me a message, include this stone. I will know that it’s truly from you then and not a forgery. These are deep waters, and we cannot be too careful.”
Ronan took the stone and the chain and bowed his head in thanks.
“And I’ll do something more for you,” the king said. “I will give you a letter of credit, in my name, that you can draw against if you need money. When you get back to the Twelve Isles, you may find yourself isolated from friends and in need of funds. You may portray yourself as a man on a mission from me. And one other thing. I will arrange your transport to Twin Mountain city and a ship to take you from there to Trentum.
“No,” he said, raising a hand, “don’t protest. It’s the least I can do. I have ships in Twin Mountain harbor that will take you swiftly and discreetly to Trentum City and will wait for you there if you need to leave again quickly. Now, you have friends here in Saon City?”
Ronan nodded. “Yes,” he said, “there are five of us: myself, two other Night Guild Assassins, and two more travelers who we have allied with on the road.”
“You shall all come and stay here at the castle. It will be safest that way. It will take me a day to make the arrangements, but it will save you many days of travel. You’ll go by swift riverboat down the Round River through the mountains, and that way you’ll avoid any bandit trouble on the roads and reduce a journey of three or four days to a day and a night. You’ll be at Twin Mountain city before you know it and in the Twelve Isles again before the end of the week.”
Ronan could only accept the old king’s generosity. He had not expected any of this to happen, and yet, when he thought about it, the events did have a pleasing symmetry. He had saved the old king’s life, and his kingdom, from Kaishog the gold skull and his diabolical organization, and now the consequences of those actions were coming home to reward him.
A swift and discreet message was sent to the others, calling them to come up to the castle. Within the hour, Ronan, Eric, Diana, Tanya, and Emelia were all sitting together in a comfortable suite of rooms the king had set aside for them, looking out over the view of Saon.
The king called his scribes and had the letter made up, confirming that he’d sent the message to the Night Guild asking for Kaishog’s assassination and that his messenger had spoken to Guildswoman Lera. The documents included the dates, and the very specific testimony of the messenger, including exactly when and where he’d spoken to Lera and what had been said.
It was a damning document, and with the king’s seal attached, it would be impossible to deny.
The king greeted all Ronan’s friends cordially, but then he made himself scarce, speaking only to Ronan when they made up the letters. Ronan understood that this was because the king did not want to get drawn into a conversation about the wider happenings in the world. He valued discretion and knew that it was essential that he remain aloof from the gritty details.
After that first night, they saw little of the king. Their quarters were luxurious, and they all benefited from the rest. There was no doubt that the discretion of staying in the castle was very useful. There was no possibility of being recognized here, and the five friends could, for once, completely relax.
It did not last long, of course. They spent two nights and one full day in the chambers at the castle, but in the morning after the second night, a messenger came to deliver the news that their transport was ready.
The king had stabled their horses for them, and when it became clear that they would have no further use of the animals, he had insisted on purchasing them at a very fair price. He had his treasurer come to the rooms in the morning and hand over a generous bag of gold to Diana.
Armed with the gold from the horse sale, and the letter of credit from the king, Ronan felt that, at least, they would not have any money worries when they got back to the Twelve Isles. It was true, of course, what the king had said: they had no idea what kind of resources they would have available to them when they got back there.
The Night Guild would almost certainly be closed to them, and there was a strong possibility that they would be hunted as fugitives if it were known that they were in the city. For the hundredth time, Ronan wished that he still had his farseeing ability.
“No point in that,” Diana said when he mentioned his complaint to her.
“You are right,” he said. “Let’s just concentrate on the next stage of the journey.”
That next stage turned out to be smoother than any of them could have hoped for.
When they had come north this way, they had taken the mountain road, and there they had been attacked by bandits. That had almost ended in disaster, and they had been lucky to escape. However, people traveling south could take advantage of the swift-flowing river that ran in the deep gorge right through the mountain range and out the other side.
Ronan had considered that they might be able to get passage on a riverboat, but he had not thought into it that deeply. Now, he found himself and his friends climbing aboard a swift, narrow boat piloted by men in the king’s livery. It was a bright, clear morning, cold for the time of year, but nowhere near as freezing as the northlands had been.
The boat was loaded with cargo, mostly metal ingots bound for the port at Twin Mountain city. There were a few other passengers, merchants from the mining towns, mainly, plus one or two folk who were travelling with bolts of cloth and small barrels that Ronan learned were filled with a certain blue dye unique to Ghennet. There was also a strong compliment of twenty-five armed soldiers. Ronan and his companions did not stand out among the passengers. The boat itself was a light vessel designed for speed, with a high prow and tall, narrow sides, but it carried a surprising amount of cargo and people.
They would not sleep in the boat. It was planned that the journey through the mountains would take about a day, and they would stop in one of the small towns on the other side of the mountains to rest. Then, they would take the boat down to the south coast of Lithia, where the river let out into the sea at Twin Mountain’s harbor.
At first, Ronan had wondered what role the armed soldiers would play. After all, there was not much change of the boat being raided by bandits on the swift-flowing, inaccessible river.
“They’re for the journey back,” a sage old merchant had replied when Ronan had posed the question. “The boat and us merchants must get back north somehow, and the guards travel south with us to help keep the bandits off when we travel back north to Ghennet on the dangerous mountain road. The crew carry the boat, and the soldiers – plus any mercenaries we can hire – guard the crew, the boat, and us merchants. The mountain bandits are cowards, and they only raid when they think they can get away without a battle. The cost of protection is why the trip is so expensive! But it’s worth it. The southerners will pay vast sums of money for Ghennetian ingots, and for the blue dye that comes from the riverlands, and so we make the transit and pay the cost.”
Ronan nodded, thanking the old man for the information. He and his friends, of course, had not paid a penny for the transit. The cost had been covered by the king. But he was not about to advertise that fact.
They took their positions in the back of the boat and got ready for the journey.
Ronan could never have hoped for such a swift transit. He thought back to their long toil north on the way to Ghennet. When compared to this rapid journey, it seemed incredible.
“What a pity that boats cannot travel north this fast,” Diana said. “The lack of a decent northward transit route must stifle trade a great deal.”
“At least the possibilities for export are still good,” an old merchant who was sitting nearby said, hearing Ronan’s comment. “We tolerate the road north, but the river transit south keeps us in funds, and we invest them in guards to keep us safe on the north road back.”
“But I have heard,” said an old woman who sat next to the merchant, “that the king intends to clean the bandits out of the northern mountains and set regular patrols on the roads.”
“Aye,” a younger man said with feeling, “now that the cursed influence of the Silent Brotherhood has been lifted, our king is able to take his own decisions again, and things will improve for the honest merchants and traders of Ghennet.”
There was a hushed silence in the boat. All the merchants and traders looked at one another fearfully for a moment and then broke out into smiles as they realized that the Silent Brotherhood were gone, and they could now freely express such sentiments.
“Praise Mala,” one of the merchants intoned. “The brotherhood is a thing of the past.”
Diana met Ronan’s eyes, and they shared a smile.
Chapter 13
The boat made swift progress through the mountains. There was no sign of bandits, and no trouble at all as they coursed through the deep, foaming waters of the Round River. On the other side of the wild lands, once the mountains were receding into the mist behind them, the travelers stopped at a small town where an inn catered to the needs of the south-bound transit boats, providing warm and comfortable bunks for the passengers and crew.
Then they took to the water again. The lands slipped by, with few people even giving them a second glance as they slid down the river. Towns, woodlands, and rolling pasturelands passed them by, and a little after the sun had passed its peak, they saw the squat towers and dark wooden buildings of Twin Mountain City.
By mid-afternoon, Ronan and his companions were walking up the docks together and looking for Ghennet’s Grace — the king’s ship that had been put at their disposal. The docks were busy and prospering, looking markedly wealthier than they had when Ronan and his friends had passed this way on their journey north. Ships from the Scattered Isles were docked up in the bay, and their captains and crews looked well-fed and healthy.
Clearly, Ronan’s gift of the reward money for Captain Rylic’s death had been put to good use, and without the pirate captain harassing trading in the isles, things were going more smoothly than they had for some time.
They found the Ghennet’s Grace waiting for them on one of the docks, a swift, handsome three-masted ship, built for speed.
Ronan was not sure how exactly the king had managed to communicate with the ship; perhaps it was always there, ready for orders from him. However that might have been, they found no obstacle in their way. The captain was a quiet, attentive man in his thirties. He took the scroll that Ronan offered him, glanced at the seal, nodded, then unrolled the paper and read from it. A moment later he looked at Ronan, clearly impressed. He folded the scroll and tucked it into this robe.
“Sir,” he said, saluting smartly. “The king holds you high in his favor. I’m to obey you without question and help you in whatever way I can.”
Ronan smiled. “Hopefully, my needs should not be too onerous. My main need is for discretion. Can you do that?”
The captain smiled. “I can, sir. The king has several ships here in the Twin Mountain dock, but not all are as well suited to… discretion… as this one. And not all the captains, either.”
