Queen of the Night Guild, page 32
part #3 of Queen of Thieves Series
“Nothing, my lord,” a Praamian Guard said. “Not so much as a weapon.”
“You think I’d be foolish enough to bring it here?” The tapestry muffled Ilanna’s words.
The Duke snapped his fingers, and the Praamian Guard released his grip on her head.
Ilanna straightened her clothing and glared at Duke Phonnis. “Outside, hiding in plain sight of Watcher’s Square, one of my friends is waiting.”
The Duke opened his mouth, no doubt to order his men to find the man, but Ilanna didn’t give him time to speak. “You’ll never find him. He’s wearing the same plain clothes of every other man in that square. But he watched your men drag me in here, and he has strict orders of what to do if I don’t come back out in the next hour. He’ll go to the man who has that piece of paper proving my words. Within days, thousands of copies of that paper will flood the city. Everyone—from the poorest beggar to the wealthiest noble—will know the truth, Duke.”
The Duke’s eyes narrowed. “Lies,” he growled. “You couldn’t possibly have the proof.”
Ilanna raised an eyebrow. “Are you willing to risk this particular secret getting out?” She leaned forward. “The Bloody Hand killed my friends. The rest are standing on your scaffolding awaiting execution. I have nothing to lose, Duke Phonnis. You, on the other hand, have everything to lose.”
The Duke licked his lips, his gaze darting to the Praamian Guards around him.
“Take me to the King, Duke Phonnis,” she said, “and your secret will remain precisely that: secret.”
Her confident grin belied the nervous roiling in her stomach. She stood before the Chief Justiciar, surrounded by Praamian Guards, and with no one to help her. Her contingency plan would do nothing for her if the Duke decided her death and that of the Night Guild was worth the damage to his political reputation. Her entire plan hinged on her belief that Duke Phonnis held his honor and his desire to protect his brother against all else, even his duties as Chief Justiciar.
A single bead of sweat trickled down the Duke’s forehead. After a moment that seemed to last an eternity, he nodded. “So be it. You will stand trial before the King. And when I present him the evidence I have accumulated, he will have no choice but to proclaim your guilt. You will join your comrades on the gibbet, and Praamis will be rid of your kind once and for all.”
Ilanna inclined her head. “You are nothing if not fair, Duke Phonnis.”
He tensed at the mocking tone of her voice. The muscles in his jaw worked, and his spine straightened.
Ilanna met his distrustful expression with a placid smile. “Come, Duke, my trial awaits.”
* * *
All eyes in the Throne Room turned to regard her as the double doors swung open. Expressions of curiosity and confusion mingled on the faces of the ten men sitting on either side of the room.
King Ohilmos looked up from the tome in his hands and raised an eyebrow. “Brother? What is this?”
The Duke spoke in a tight, clipped voice. “Another traitor to Praamis to stand trial before the throne, my King.”
The King frowned. “I thought we had already concluded the trials earlier. Why are you…?” He narrowed his eyes at Ilanna, and his rasping breath caught in his throat. “Oh!”
“My King.” Ilanna swept a bow. “It is truly a privilege to stand before you today.”
“Indeed,” the King said. He scratched at the circle of scar tissue twisting his lips upward. “I must admit my…surprise at your presence.” He narrowed his eyes at the Duke. “From what my brother told me, he had tried all living members of the Night Guild.”
“Night Guild?” An older man with wispy, grey eyebrows rose to his feet. “This is another of those vermin?”
“Not just another one, my Lord Vorrel,” the Duke said, a hint of anger tingeing his somber voice. “She is the worst of the lot.”
Lord Ralston, a tall, lean man with a drooping moustache and teeth stained yellow from tabacc smoke—a habit she had encountered first-hand the night she broke into his home—sat back in his chair. “Then by all means, let’s get on with this.”
Ilanna’s eyes took in the rest of the Royal Council. Lord Kannassas, the King’s third cousin, sat at the King’s left hand, his ample belly straining at the gilded buttons on his blue crushed velvet vest. The twitchy man with a patchy beard and a prominent hook nose could only be Lord Illiran, the noble whose herds of cows and horses and flocks of sheep and goats grazed most of the land beyond the limits of Praamis. Lord Draidan, Lord Athir, and Lord Untler—the three nobles responsible for most of the commerce that flowed in and out of Praamis—occupied the rest of the table.
Opposite them sat Lord Vorrel, the owner of the only silver mine in the entire south of Einan. A man wearing the colors of the House of Auslan sat in Lord Auslan’s seat. Lords Unvar and Brayl, masters of grain and corn, filled two more chairs. The fifth, on the King’s right hand, stood empty. Duke Phonnis strode toward the massive chair and lowered himself into its plush depths. With head held high and a voice that rang out loud and clear in the hall, the Duke proclaimed, “Let the trial of Journeyman Ilanna of the Night Guild commence.”
Chapter 42
King Ohilmos leaned forward in his chair, slim fingers steepled beneath his chin. “Present your evidence, Brother.”
The Duke raised an eyebrow at the King. “What is there to say? She herself has admitted to being a member of the Night Guild.”
“Which means what, precisely?” Amusement crept into Ilanna’s voice. “What is the Night Guild?”
“A group of cutthroats and thieves,” Duke Phonnis growled.
Ilanna folded her arms. “Is that so? Or is it simply that a few members of the Night Guild have committed crimes, for which they face execution in the Watcher’s Square.”
The Duke’s expression darkened.
Ilanna lifted her head. “My King, I put to you the question: what is the Night Guild? Some would claim a criminal organization, but what proof is there that the Night Guild even exists?”
“You yourself have just said you are a member!” Duke Phonnis rose to his feet, his face flushed.
“Indeed, which begs the question, member of what?” She was surprised to find her voice held no quaver. Her knees, however, threatened to buckle—the hurried journey to the palace had sapped the last of her energy.
Ilanna hid a smile as the Duke’s frown deepened. “A band of criminals, Watcher take it!” he snapped.
“But what proof have you of their existence? Beyond my claim that I belong to the organization, of course. More, what proof is there that the organization is comprised of, as you say, criminals and cutthroats?”
“Yes!” Duke Phonnis’ voice rose to a shout. He strode toward her, stabbing a finger at the window. “Out there are over a hundred of those who belong to your organization.”
“Show me the proof, Duke Phonnis.” Ilanna allowed herself to smile now. “Prove that the Night Guild exists.”
The Duke’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide as if unable to believe the nonsense she spouted.
King Ohilmos chuckled. “I believe I understand what you are saying, girl.” He spoke in his quiet, rasping voice. “A man could claim to be a descendent of the Serenii themselves, but what is that claim without proof?”
Ilanna gave the King a half-bow. “And no matter how many claim to be Serenii-born, the claim itself does not make it true. Truth is proven through evidence, through facts.” She turned to the Duke. “Prove to me, Duke Phonnis, that the Night Guild exists. Until you do, you cannot simply accuse me of crimes by virtue of my association with them.”
The Duke’s jaw muscles worked, his eyes narrowing. Uncertainty mixed with the anger in his expression.
“I put it to you, King Ohilmos, lords of the Royal Council, that there are no documents to back up the claims of the Night Guild’s existence.” Her eyes fell on the bespectacled figure seated beside and slightly behind the King’s throne. “With your permission, my King, might I address the Royal Scribe?”
Surprise showed on the faces of both Duke and King, but none looked more shocked than Ellara.
“You may.” King Ohilmos gave a magnanimous wave.
“Thank you, your Highness.” She turned to the woman. “I ask you, Mistress Ellara, how would one prove the existence of, say, a silversmith’s guild?”
Ellara blushed, her eyes dropping, and shuffled the papers in her lap. “I-I…” She cleared her throat, clearly discomfited by the attention. “I would search the Royal Records for the guild’s application and the certifications granting them royal approval to operate as a guild within the city of Praamis. And, of course, the official charter and bylaws governing said guild.”
“And do any such documents exist for the Night Guild?” she asked.
Ellara’s redness deepened. “I would need to…er…search the Royal Archives.”
“To the best of your knowledge, as the Royal Scribe officially tasked with keeping records on everything that occurs in the city, do such documents exist?”
Ellara hesitated and, with a nervous glance at the Duke, shook her head. “They do not.”
“Thank you, Mistress Ellara.” She nodded and bowed to hide her relief. She’d gambled that a criminal organization wouldn’t bother with royal documents, no matter its origins. She’d had to take the chance that no such documents would exist.
Swallowing a triumphant grin, she turned back to the Duke. “I ask you again, Duke Phonnis, where is your proof of the Night Guild’s existence?”
The Duke uttered a low growl. “You play with words well, little thief, but your deceit will not absolve you of your crimes.”
“And what crimes are those, Duke?” Despite the quaking in her gut, Ilanna met the Duke’s gaze with no sign of hesitation.
“Too many to count!” Triumph shone in the Duke’s eyes as he stalked around the Throne Room, counting off her crimes on his fingers. “Grand larceny and theft. Breaking into and stealing from the noble houses of Praamis, including my own mansion. Grave robbery and the desecration of sanctified remains. Absconding with the remains of Lady Auslan from the vaults of Lord Auslan’s home in Old Praamis, along with the gold and gemstone-encrusted sarcophagus that served as a repository for those remains. The brutal murder of four of my Arbitors.”
The King frowned, his expression growing somber. “Serious accusations, each and every one.”
“Men have been executed for even one of those crimes,” the Duke snarled. “Put them all together, and you have a truly heinous criminal, worthy of the harshest punishment the Crown can devise.” His face grew smug. “Fortunately, the Watcher is a merciful god. His justice is swift and sure. She will join her fellow—”
“It’s a beautiful list, I’ll admit.” Ilanna folded her arms, wincing at the pain in her chest. “But you’ve yet to prove any of it.”
Her words seemed to catch the Duke off-guard. “We have more than enough proof of your wrongdoings.”
“Then bring them forward,” she replied simply.
Confusion twisted the Duke’s face. “Them?”
“The witnesses.” Ilanna raised an eyebrow. “The people who watched me committing all those crimes. The ones who will swear before the King and the Watcher in the Dark that I was the one who broke into all the mansions of Praamis and stole your valuables. That my hands are stained with the blood of your Arbitors, and”—she gave a little chuckle—“that I lifted the golden sarcophagus of Lady Auslan from this vault in Lord Auslan’s manor and carried it away.” She flexed her biceps. “Quite the feat of strength, even for a dangerous cutthroat and criminal like myself.”
Smiles tugged at the lips of Lord Ralston and Lord Ulimar. Lord Vorrel actually gave a little chuckle.
The Duke flushed with anger. “I have the testimony of dozens of nobles accusing you of theft.”
“Me personally?” Ilanna’s eyebrows shot up. “Indeed?” She turned to regard the men sitting in their plush seats. “What of you? Do any of you recognize me?”
A few of the noblemen bristled, but none of them spoke.
She continued. “If I were to tell you that I had broken into four of your homes, which of you would believe yourselves to be the victims?”
Eight hands shot up. Only the dozing Lord Athir failed to raise his hand.
“You see? None of you can identify me, yet every one of you believes I have stolen from them.” Ilanna met the eyes of each nobleman in turn. “Perhaps you are victims of the Night Guild, but you have no proof beyond the fact that you are missing items of value.”
“Aha!” The Duke smiled, triumphant. “You admit to stealing their valuables!”
“Not in the slightest.” Ilanna shook her head. “Thieves wouldn’t steal worthless items, so it stands to reason that those who truly are victims of theft have been relieved of their valuables. But your answers serve to illustrate my point. You all accuse me of stealing from you, yet you have no proof that I am the thief. I’d dare say you have no proof that the Night Guild is even behind the thefts.”
“What of this?” Lord Ulimar drew out the skull-headed dagger and held it up. The ruby eyes glistened in the bright sunlight. “I found this beside my bed. A message from the Night Guild.”
Ilanna hesitated. She had delivered the dagger. But Lord Ulimar had no way of proving it. “A dagger? Beautiful, but how can you be certain it is from the Night Guild.”
“Everyone knows the meaning of the dagger.” Lord Ulimar toyed with the blade. “It means the Night Guild has marked you for death.”
“So anything that is ‘common knowledge’ must be true?” Ilanna stared at the nobleman. “Common knowledge once held that rubbing mud on a burn would cause it to heal faster. Now, ask any physicker or herbalist, and they’ll tell you such foolishness only leads to worse infections.”
Lord Ulimar glared, but had no words to counter.
“Common knowledge is not proof, Duke,” Ilanna said, her voice level and calm. “Unless you have the one who delivered the dagger or a witness to verify the identity of its messenger, it is not true evidence.”
King Ohilmos leaned back in his chair. “She’s not wrong, Brother.” He rubbed at his gaunt cheeks, his fingers toying over the thick, circular bands of scar tissue. “Without an eyewitness…” He shrugged.
“So be it.” The Duke’s face hardened, his voice going flat. “You demand a witness?” He turned to the Praamian Guards who stood beside him. “Bring in the blacksmith.”
Ilanna stiffened. Fear brushed icy fingers across the nape of her neck. She knew only one blacksmith in Praamis. If the Duke really has called her…
Duke Phonnis radiated smugness as he spoke. “Presenting, Master Lorilain of the Smith’s Guild.”
Ilanna’s heart stopped. Dread writhing in her gut, she turned to see the huge blacksmith stride into the Throne Room. Master Lorilain’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of Ilanna. Her massive shoulders hunched, tense and stiff, as she came to stand beside Ilanna.
King Ohilmos spoke in his rasping whisper. “Master Lorilain, do you understand why you have been brought here?”
The blacksmith bowed to the King. “I do, your Majesty.”
Duke Phonnis gave an impatient wave. “Then speak, good smith.”
Master Lorilain turned. Ilanna caught a hint of regret and sorrow in her eyes, but the smith spoke in her strong, unwavering voice. “This is the woman who hired me to construct a facsimile of the door guarding Lord Auslan’s vault.”
A boulder settled in the pit of Ilanna’s stomach.
“You are certain?” The Duke’s voice rang with a note of triumph. “You are sure she is the one who paid you?”
“I am.” Master Lorilain nodded. “I spoke with her at length on the subject of how to get through the door, the construction of the vault itself, the differences between Odarian and high-carbon Voramian steel, and the tools she would need to get through.”
Ilanna clenched her fists, anger flaring in her chest. Jarl had told her she could trust Master Lorilain. She should have known better. The blacksmith had taken the Night Guild’s coin and betrayed them without hesitation.
“And this door,” the Duke went on, “you built it for her?”
Master Lorilain nodded, her face impassive. “I was paid to build a door according to the specifications given to me by this woman. I had no way of knowing it would be used to commit such a heinous crime.” The smith shot a sideways glance at Ilanna.
Ilanna was taken aback. Was that an apology in her eyes? Perhaps the smith wasn’t here because of her duty as a citizen to Praamis. Had the Duke forced her to turn on the Guild? The tension in the smith’s huge shoulders and the worry on her face told Ilanna something more was going on, something she couldn’t see.
Duke Phonnis nodded. “Thank you, Master Lorilain, for your honesty.”
“Of course, Duke.” With a bow to the King and Duke, the massive blacksmith allowed the Praamian Guards to escort her from the Throne Room.
Ilanna’s mind raced. The smith’s testimony had connected her to the theft. The smug look on the Duke’s face told her exactly what he would say next.
“As you can see, my King, noblemen of the Royal Council, there is ample proof that this thief is the one responsible for the theft of Lady Auslan’s sarcophagus. Between the theft and the desecration of the noble lady’s resting place—”
“One question, Duke Phonnis,” she interrupted.
The Duke scowled at her. “What?” he snapped.
“If the smith’s testimony is to be believed, I am the one who hired her to build a replica of Lord Auslan’s vault door, correct?”
The Duke nodded. “Your guilt is—”
“Tell me, my lord, what is the crime in building a door?” Ilanna feigned confusion. “Surely Praamian law doesn’t forbid its citizens from constructing doors.”
