Queen of the Night Guild, page 6
part #3 of Queen of Thieves Series
“Think about it, Ilanna.” The words poured from his mouth in a rush. “I am Master of the Night Guild. What will happen to the Guild if I am killed, or worse, captured?”
“But we don’t know who’s attacking us!” Ilanna half-turned toward the sound of fighting. “We have to find out more.”
Master Gold gripped her arm. “Does it really matter?” His jaw muscles worked. “Either the Duke’s Arbitors have found our tunnels, or the Bloody Hand has. There’s no heroism in dying today.”
Ilanna clenched her fists. “Damn it, Master Gold! We have to help.” The clash of steel and the cries of fighting men grew louder.
“No, we don’t.” The Guild Master shook his head. “We need to be safe. House Serpent and House Bloodbear were formed for just this eventuality. They’ve enough fighters between them to drive out a small army.”
“They’re going to get killed!” Ilanna protested.
“And they’ve known that since the first day they were chosen by their Houses. Just as you knew what would happen if you were caught in the wrong mansion.” He gripped her sword arm. “But I must live. If we are to recover from this, we will need a clear head and a firm hand to direct our next step. You know as well as I that there is no one better suited to leading the Guild in a time like this than me. If that means I must act the coward and hide, so be it. I do it for the Guild.”
Ilanna looked in his eyes. His expression showed no sign of fear, only the cold pragmatism that had made him such a useful ally. He spoke the truth. That didn’t mean she had to like it.
“Well,” she snarled, “you may be comfortable running and hiding, but I stand with my House!”
“With those hands?” Master Gold’s voice grew harsh. “You can barely hold that sword without wincing. You wouldn’t last two minutes in a fight.”
Ilanna wanted to argue, but the pain radiating through her scorched palms forestalled her argument.
“If you will not listen to reason,” Master Gold snapped, “you will obey a direct command. Protect me, Journeyman Ilanna of House Hawk. Protect your Guild Master. That is an order.” His eyes narrowed. “And before you protest, remember that you are still a Journeyman. You have not yet been released from the oaths you swore to your House, to the Guild. To me.”
Ilanna growled low in her throat. “Damn you, Master Gold!” She had to heed his command.
“Let’s go.” Master Gold jerked his head down a side corridor. “To my office.”
The Guild Council Chamber stood a few hundred paces from the Guild Master’s quarters, on neutral territory belonging to none of the Houses. Master Gold and Ilanna covered the distance in less than a minute.
“Secure that door,” Master Gold instructed.
Ilanna threw the deadbolt. The door, built of solid Ghandian blackwood, would keep out anything short of a battering ram.
“Now what?” Her gaze darted around the room. If they dragged the Guild Master’s enormous desk in front of the door, it could buy a few more minutes.
“Leave it,” Master Gold waved her away from the heavy furniture. “This way.” He strode over to a bookcase, upon which sat seven golden figurines: a hawk, a serpent, a scorpion, a bloodbear, a fox, a hound, and a grubber mole. The Guild Master pulled on the hawk. Mechanisms deep in the wall clicked, and the bookcase slid to one side, revealing a darkened tunnel beyond.
“Secrets within secrets, Ilanna.” The Guild Master pointed to the alchemical lamp that hung on the opposite wall. “We’ll need light.”
Ilanna darted across the room and lifted the lamp from its sconce. Once inside the hidden passage, Master Gold pressed on a stone and the bookcase slid shut without a sound.
Ilanna held up the lamp. The tunnel ran for ten paces before turning a corner. “Where does this go?” she whispered.
“To the sewer tunnels beneath the city. And to the chambers of every House Master.”
Ilanna’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
Master Gold grinned and shrugged. “There is much about the Night Guild known only to myself and the Masters I trust.”
“Master Hawk?”
The Guild Master nodded.
Relief flooded Ilanna. “So he’ll be safe.” Master Hawk could hide until the Serpents and Bloodbears dealt with the threat.
Master Gold’s expression darkened. “You’ve known Jagar Khat for years.” Sorrow filled his eyes. “Have you ever known him to back down when someone threatened his House?”
Ilanna’s gut clenched. Master Hawk would be the first to face whatever came through the doors of the Aerie. He would protect his House, the cost be damned.
Master Gold’s hand gripped her shoulder. “You can’t go out there. You can’t save him.”
Ilanna whirled. “Damn you, Master Gold!” She drove a fist into the earthen walls.
The Guild Master’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He’ll survive this. He has to.” He spoke as if trying to convince himself.
* * *
Ilanna tensed as the bookcase slid to one side, but found Master Gold’s office exactly as they’d left it…an hour ago? Two? She rushed across the room and pressed an ear to the blackwood door. An eerie silence hung thick in the tunnels.
“All quiet.”
Master Gold hesitated, but Ilanna didn’t wait for his permission. She unlocked the deadbolt and ripped the door open.
A strangled cry escaped Master Gold’s lips. Blood stained the mangled face, chest, and legs of the body that slumped through the opening. Slim fingers better suited to holding a quill pen gripped a crimson-edged dagger. The dark eyes of Journeyman Entar stared at the ceiling, sightless and unmoving. Three corpses lay at his feet.
Master Gold dropped to his knees beside the corpse of his aide. “Entar!”
Icy daggers of fear pierced Ilanna’s spine. She knelt and studied the bodies. The men, scarred and heavily-muscled, wore leather vests and simple clothing with no identifying markings. Her stomach clenched. They weren’t the olive-clad Praamian Guard or the Duke’s Arbitors with their blue tunics and shining silver breastplates. Only one other explanation remained.
The Bloody Hand.
Ripping her sword from its sheath, she darted out of Entar’s office and rushed through the tunnels toward House Hawk. She passed clusters of wounded men and women, piles of cadavers, and dark patches where blood had turned the dusty floors a muddy crimson. Journeymen wearing the colors of every House lay on the floor—many dead, many more bleeding.
The stink of death hung thick in the stale air. The cries of the wounded echoed from all around her. Men and women groaned, wept, and begged for aid that would not arrive in time. More than once, Ilanna had to leap over a fallen body or dodge a patch of earth sodden with blood.
She recognized many of the corpses—too many. Idan and Elmar, the Foxes who had taught her the ways of the streets. A trio of the Grubbers who had helped Jarl dig the underground tunnels she’d used to transport Lady Auslan’s corpse. A lump rose in her throat at the sight of Garrill, the Hound that had trained her to sneak through the gardens of Duke Phonnis to reach the Black Spire. So many familiar faces numbered among the dead.
Ignoring the pain in her burned legs, she raced toward the double doors of the Aerie. She rounded the corner and slid to a halt. Bodies lay piled high before the entrance to House Hawk. Rivers of crimson trickled toward her, grisly fingers of agony and death. One of the doors hung from a single hinge, the other ripped free completely. A single figure stood in the entrance. He gripped a mace, its head stained red, covered with bits of white matter and bone chunks.
“Jarl!”
The huge Hawk looked up at sight of Ilanna. Relief crossed his face. “‘Lanna.” He sagged, groaning, his weapon clattering to the ground beside him.
Ilanna scrambled over the mountain of bodies—how many of them belonged to her fellow Hawks?—and dropped to one knee beside Jarl. The big man pressed a hand to a ragged tear in his side. Blood seeped from his gashed forehead.
“Easy, Jarl.” She fumbled in her pouch and drew out a roll of bandages. She pressed the cloth to his side. “The Bloody Hand?”
Jarl nodded. “Scores of them.” Fatigue and pain tinged his voice. “Not just us.”
“Ilanna!” A familiar voice rang out in the tunnels behind her.
Ilanna whirled. “Errik!”
The Serpent rushed toward her, not sheathing his crimson-edged sword or dagger. “You hurt?”
Ilanna shook her head. “No. But Jarl’s in bad shape.”
Errik frowned down at the huge Hawk. Jarl’s face had gone pale, and fresh blood seeped from the wound in his side.
“Stay here. I’ll get help.” He darted away.
Ilanna nodded and pressed the cloth tighter against the wound. Jarl gave a weak moan.
“I-I’m sorry, ‘Lanna.” Jarl’s voice sounded so faint, so weak. “I…tried.”
“No!” Sorrow and anger mingled in her gut. “Don’t even think about dying on me, you big, stupid lummox.”
Jarl’s chuckle turned into a weak cough.
“They’re coming to help, Jarl. You stay strong, you hear?”
Jarl gave a weak shake of his huge head. His eyes closed.
“Help!” Ilanna pressed two fingers to his neck. He had a pulse…barely. “I need help here!”
The sound of running feet grew louder, and Journeyman Tyman slid to kneel beside her. The Scorpion gave him a curt examination. “It’s bad.”
Ilanna snarled at him. “You’re going to fix him, damn it!”
Tyman gave a hesitant nod. “I’ll do what I can.”
Ilanna gripped the healer’s shoulder. “You fixed me all those years ago after Sabat broke me. You’ll do the same for him, you hear?”
“I’ll do what I can,” Tyman repeated.
“Keep him alive,” she shouted, “and you’ll have all the Nyslian wine you could want.” The surge of anger drove back the threatening tears. Now wasn’t the time to mourn the loss.
Tyman gave her a weak smile. “If only it were that simple. Now give me room to work.”
Errik had to drag her away from Jarl.
The Serpent eyed her. “You hurt?”
“No.” She shoved his hands away. “What happened?”
“The Bloody Hand’s what happened.” Errik’s normally placid face creased into a snarl. “Hundreds of them.”
Ilanna growled. “How bad is it?”
Errik shook his head. “Can’t be sure. Haven’t got the count yet.” His eyes slid away. “But I’ve seen the bodies. They hurt us bad, Ilanna.”
“At least you survived.” She gripped his forearm.
“House Serpent got hit hard. We killed scores of them, but they outnumbered us five to one. We lost at least twenty.” He winced. “Maybe more. Master Serpent, too.”
Ilanna’s eyes flew wide. Master Hawk! Her concern for Jarl had driven all thoughts from her mind. She whirled and leapt over the corpses littering the entrance to the Aerie. She had to find Master Hawk, see if he was—
She slid to a halt, horror turning her legs to jelly and filling her veins with ice. She wanted to look away, but her eyes refused to leave the grim sight.
Six bodies, hacked and mutilated almost beyond recognition, hung from the Perch. Six pairs of eyes stared at her, accusation written in their lifeless gazes. Blood dripped from corpses and collected in pools. The Bloody Hand’s mark—a hand with elongated fingers and razor claws—stood out red and cruel against their pale skin.
Ilanna’s heart stopped as she saw the seventh body. Jagar Khat, Master of House Hawk, lay on the floor beneath his dead Journeymen, the bodies of ten Voramian thugs around him.
Chapter 8
Acid rose to Ilanna’s throat and spewed from her lips. Tears stung her eyes.
Bryden’s voice echoed through the Aerie. “Gorrin. Eustyss. Grillen. Conn. Druce. Harlann.”
Ilanna whirled. Bryden limped out of a tunnel, his face grey.
“You!” Rage burned in her gut. “Where were you?”
His robes bore not a single speck of blood, not so much as a wrinkle out of place. He wore no weapons. He hadn’t defended House Hawk.
Bryden’s eyes slid to one side. “I…evaded them.”
“A likely story.” Ilanna’s hand went to her sword. “The men of House Hawk lie dead or bleeding, and you without a single scratch. Almost as if the Bloody Hand had reason to spare your worthless life!”
Bryden’s eyes flashed. “How dare you! You insinuate—”
“I insinuate nothing!” Ilanna’s shout rang off the high-vaulted ceiling. “You are the reason the Bloody Hand have found us. The destruction of Old Town Market didn’t sate their appetites for carnage, so you led them straight to House Hawk.”
“Preposterous!” Bryden’s voice matched her fury. “How could I have possibly led the Bloody Hand into the tunnels? You saw me in the Guild Council Chamber.”
Ilanna pondered it. “Your crew—”
“Them?” Bryden thrust a finger at the bodies of Eustyss and Grillen hanging from the Perch. “That crew?”
Ilanna wanted to keep shouting, to unleash her anger at him. “You sent them a map of the tunnels, showed them the path to reach each House.”
“How? I haven’t left these tunnels in months.”
“Not even to hire an arsonist to burn down Old Town Market?” she snarled.
Bryden flinched as if struck. “What?” His face went pale.
“You heard me!” Ilanna drew her sword and stalked toward the gaping Journeyman. “A Praamian hired the arsonists to torch the marketplace. But it was the Bloody Hand’s coin that paid for it.”
Bryden shuffled backward. “And you think I did it?”
Ilanna snarled. “I have proof!” She hurled herself at him, but strong hands caught her.
“Easy, Ilanna!” A familiar voice spoke in her ear. Errik held her sword arm with an implacable grip. “Attacking him will only make you a murderer. This isn’t the way to do it.”
Ilanna turned a baleful glare on him. “You’d let him get away with—?”
“With nothing.” Errik shook his head. “If you have an accusation, make it before the Guild Council.”
“The Council is dead!” Ilanna spat. “You said so yourself.”
“I said Master Serpent was dead. I don’t know about the others, but…”
Ilanna ripped her left arm free of his grip and stabbed a finger at the lifeless corpse of Master Hawk. “There is another. Think about it: if the Bloody Hand wanted to take control of the Guild, they would kill off the Council first.” She snarled at Bryden. “Unless one of the Council members was their subservient lickspittle, a traitor!”
Bryden bristled. “You point the finger, Journeyman.” He growled the word as an insult. “Your clothing bears no blood, no sign of battle. Surely you are not free of suspicion. Where were you when the Bloody Hand attacked?”
“Protecting me,” Master Gold’s words echoed behind her. Ilanna turned to see the Guild Master edging around the pale, unmoving form of Jarl. “Journeyman Ilanna prepared to give her life in defense of her House, but I gave the order for her to protect me. It is as she said: the Bloody Hand has attacked the Guild Council. All but you and I lie dead at their hands.”
Ilanna whirled. “You see? It is proof of his—”
“It is proof of nothing!” Bryden’s eyes flashed. “You hurl accusations, but with nothing to substantiate your claims. Unless you’ve suddenly conjured evidence in the short time since the Council adjourned?”
“You know I haven’t,” Ilanna growled.
Bryden turned to the Guild Master. “Master Gold, what does Guild law say about baseless accusations?”
Master Gold’s brow furrowed. “If proof cannot be brought forward, the accusation cannot stand.”
Ilanna sneered. “Of course you’d hide behind Guild law, like the coward you are!” Sabat, the Bloodbear apprentice who had beaten, broken, and abused her, had evaded justice for lack of evidence. As had she when she hacked him to pieces.
She turned her attention to Master Gold, but the Guild Master shook his head. She read the truth in his eyes. He wanted to believe her claims. The loss of Master Hawk—his good friend and former comrade—pained him more than he let others believe. He wanted Bryden to be the man behind it all so he could vent his anger, just as she did. But unless she could come up with proof, Guild law protected Bryden.
She shook off Errik’s hands. “So be it.” She gave Bryden a look that could have frozen the sun. “But I will find proof. And when I do…”
“You won’t!” Bryden met her fury with equally icy calm. “Your accusations are baseless slander, nothing more.”
She searched his eyes for any hint, but saw only a wall of dispassion. It didn’t matter that he stood amidst the corpses of his friends and comrades. He only cared that she wouldn’t discover his duplicity.
Ilanna spat at his feet, whirled, and stalked down the tunnels toward her room. She slammed the door behind her and drove her fist into the earthen wall, heedless of the pain in her still-healing palms.
He can’t get away with it! I won’t let him.
She paced her room, mind racing. Toll the arsonist had said the man who hired him had a limp. That fit Bryden to perfection. But to hire them, Bryden would have had to leave the Night Guild. She would have asked Grillen or Eustyss, two of Bryden’s crew, but they couldn’t hear her from the arms of the Long Keeper. That meant she had to track down Moody, the only surviving Hawk who worked with Bryden.
She drew three throwing daggers from the chest beneath her bed and slipped them into her bracer, belt, and right boot. A push dagger and a dirk joined the weapons on her belt. Almost as an afterthought, she slipped a handful of lead sling bullets into her purse.
The weight of the bullets sent a pang of sorrow through her. Ethen, once known as the tyro Three, apprentice of House Scorpion, had taught her to use the sling. It had saved her life in the Black Spire. But after Ethen’s death, she had stopped carrying the bullets. Because of that, she hadn’t been able to save Willem as he crossed the Field of Mercy. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
