Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) (24 page)

“What exactly
is
the nature of your visit, then?”
Ruald asked with impatience.

Without preamble, the intruder simply stated, “Tonight, I am
going to kill your father, and I need you prepared to take his place.”

Ruald’s jaw dropped at the frank admission. “You
what
?
You cannot be serious. Why would you tell me that?” He shook his head furiously
and said, “Do you actually believe that I would simply
allow
you to kill
my father?”

“Your father has forfeit his life through his own actions. I
am here to carry out his sentence.
You
, however, have a vested interest
in what happens next,” the intruder replied.

“That is preposterous!” Ruald shouted. “My father may be
devious, crude, arrogant, and a terrible philanderer, but nothing he has done
would warrant death. And, who are you to carry out such an act? You have no
such authority!”

“Unfortunately for your father, you are wrong on both
accounts.” The intruder drew a sealed letter from his tunic beneath his amour
– expensive, quality armor, from what the young lord could see. He held
the letter out for the young lord to take.

Ruald hesitated for several moments, his eyes captivated by
the small paper. Dread filled him as he realized that this letter must contain
some proof of his father’s alleged misdeeds. Finally, he forced his feet to
move across the seemingly endless expanse of the sitting room and gingerly
accepted the proffered missive. The letter was warm and innocuous from the
outside, but he feared the demons that must lie within its crisp folds.

As he read through the message, Ruald’s face drained of
color and his stomach lurched. He stumbled back until his legs struck a chair,
into which he dropped like a stone. Rezkin strode to the sidebar and poured the
man a drink, passing it to him as he returned to stand before the hearth. Ruald
barely noticed as he absently accepted the snifter from the intruder.

“I…I did not…,” the young lord stammered. His confused and
distant gaze found the shadowed face of the intruder as he whispered,
“Lillian.” He gulped and averted his eyes, returning them to the horrible words
on the page, but this time he did not see them. He could not through the tears
that threatened to fall. “She came here for
me
. He said…he said he
wanted to see if she and I were a match. He spoke of a possible betrothal.”

Rezkin waited a few minutes before speaking. Eventually, he
said, “Your father is going to die tonight. There will be no debate on that
issue.” Pausing, he watched for the young lord’s reaction. Ruald looked up at
him and swallowed but did not argue.

“I am here to present you with a choice,” Rezkin continued.
“By all accounts, you are a good man, Ruald – nothing like your father.
Once your father is dead, you may, in good faith, approach Marquis DeWinter
with that letter and provide him closure for his daughter’s disappearance. You
may offer reparations for your father’s actions on your family’s behalf, and
hopefully, such forthright actions will enable you to uphold the honor of your
House. Or…you may burn that letter, and the secret of Lilly’s death will stay
between you, me, the Captain of your House Guard and anyone else he may have
told. Assuming all parties keep their peace, your family’s honor will still be
preserved. This does not guarantee that someone will not blackmail you.”

“And you? You are here as some deliverer of justice? Would
you not kill me, as well, for keeping such a secret?” Ruald inquired, not even
sure why he would ask such a thing. Of course he had to tell Lilly’s family,
but he had to know what this strange intruder intended.

“Do not mistake me. In this matter, I am no deliverer of
justice. Your father made the mistake of threatening me, and I cannot allow
such a threat to exist. You have heard something about the thieves’ guild
wars?” the stranger asked.

Taken aback by the sudden non sequitur, his mouth worked
silently for a second, his brain trying to catch up through his roiling
emotions. He was almost angry with the man for changing the subject. “What?
Yes, I suppose so.” The young lord suddenly reached up and pulled at his hair
in frustration. “That is what my father wanted of me tonight! He wanted me to
go into the Dead District and purchase a
whore
! As if I would do such a
thing! He thought I could get information out of her about The Raven –
the fellow who has been taking over the thieves’ guilds and lining the banks of
the Straei with bodies.”

“I am actually surprised he would choose
you
for such
an endeavor,” Rezkin mused.

Ruald took a large gulp of the dark liquid and grimaced. “He
said I need to learn how to lead a House and that means leading its dark side
as well as the light. He wants me to be like
him
. But, I didn’t know…”
he said as his words trailed off, and he stared blankly at the letter in his
grip.

Without looking up at the intruder he stated in an empty
voice, “You are he, are you not? The Raven?”

The intruder inclined his head in the affirmative and said,
“I am.”

“After what you have done in the past two days alone, you
now lead probably the largest criminal organization in any of the capital
cities. I cannot believe you would give me this much without a cost. Is it to
be blackmail? Extortion? I am not the kind of man who would sell his soul to a
demon to ensure his own survival.”

“That is exactly why you will live and your father will die.
The only cost is that you cease looking into me. I desire anonymity and do not
take kindly to threats against those under my protection,” the intruder
declared.

“You would have me look the other way while thieves, thugs,
and murderers run rampant in the streets?” asked the young lord.

“Obviously not. You are a lord, soon to be Head of your
House. You are responsible for the welfare of your people, a people who have
been largely neglected under your father’s reign. I am not asking you to turn
your back on the criminals. In fact, technically, I am not a criminal at all.
You said earlier that I do not have the authority to execute your father. That
is not true.”

The intruder suddenly whipped his blade from its scabbard
faster than Ruald could blink. He leapt to his feet as he reached for his own
hilt, knocking the snifter to the floor with a crash. Just before he drew, his
gaze landed on the silvery blue swirls dancing in the firelight along the
intruder’s blade. His eyes widened and darted back to the hidden face. The
intruder did not move. He stood in stasis with his sword held out to the side
allowing for an unobstructed view of the magnificent blade.

“Y-You are Sword Bearer!” he exclaimed in shock.

“It is so. I am granted my authority by the Crown, and by
the authority granted to me, I have the right to claim your father’s life. In
addition, all my actions and those of my personnel by my command are equally
lawful,” Rezkin replied.

“You are granted such authority?” Ruald questioned in awe.

“I am. You see, I do not need your compliance to carry out
my affairs,” the intruder acknowledged.

“You were granted this great authority by the king as a
position of honor and recognition, yet you use it to rule a criminal empire!”
Ruald exclaimed in protest.

The intruder sheathed the weapon as quickly as he had drawn
it and replied, “The thieves are not aware of my status as a Sword Bearer. I
have commandeered the thieves’ guilds as part of a larger agenda, one I am not
inclined to share with you at this time. If all goes as I have instructed,
though, you will be seeing a change in the activities of the criminal element
in this city soon. I
do
require that you keep the fact that I am a Sword
Bearer to yourself. It would not be advantageous for my personnel to think I
work for the king.”

“Personnel,” Ruald stated flatly. “You mean thieves. I have
heard of Sword Bearers presiding over a trial or helping to put down some civil
unrest in a village, but I have never heard of one
commandeering
an
entire city’s worth of criminals to satisfy some agenda.”

“It was the quickest, most efficient way to gain the
necessary resources and personnel with the
Skills
I require. They were
doing nothing of value, anyway, so I am not causing any respectable citizens
undue hardship,” the Sword Bearer answered as if that made any sense.

“But who
does
that? No one can take over a city’s
criminal element in less than two days, and you are only one man!” Ruald
protested. “Who would even consider such an ambitious and fool-hardy endeavor?
Oh, forgive me. I did not mean to imply that you are a fool. Obviously, you are
not, and you somehow
did
manage to accomplish just such a task,” the man
rambled.

Rezkin paused in his thoughts. Had it been ambitious? It
seemed like a good idea at the time. Now that he no longer had the strikers to
feed him information, he needed a new spy network. The thieves with their
Skills
and connections throughout the kingdom seemed like the perfect candidates. And,
it was accomplished easy enough. He had barely killed anyone, only a little
over a dozen corpses to show for it. It had not seemed as complicated as Ruald
was making it out to be. Perhaps if the man had mastered some of his
Skills
and followed the
Rules
, the task would not seem quite as daunting.

“Back to the subject at hand, Ruald. You will keep what you
know of me to yourself?” the intruder asked.

“Of course. If you order it, then so shall it be, Sword
Bearer,” Ruald stated formally.

Ah, this was much easier. “Then, I order it to be so. What
will you do about the letter?” Rezkin asked.

Ruald looked down with a heavy breath as if he had just
remembered its contents. “I…I will have to inform Marquis DeWinter. It is only
right. I do not know what will come of it, though. My House could be ruined.”

“DeWinter is a reasonable man, if not a kind one. He has
long sought closure in his daughter’s disappearance, and the fact that she
disappeared while a guest here was already a black mark on your House. If you
reveal the truth before anyone else, and do so with sincerity, I think it will
do more good than harm – especially since your father will be dead.”

“About that…” Ruald started.

“I told you, that is non-negotiable. If he lives and this
information is revealed, your House with be disgraced and very likely dissolved.
Your father will continue his lecherous exploits, possibly doing the same to
another young lady, and last but not least, he will get in my way,” Rezkin
stated.

Ruald winced and said, “Yes, I understand, but how will
you…” he said, his voice trailing off as he was unable to complete the
question.

“I think a suicide will work best. You will claim the letter
was delivered to you by an unknown source. You were appalled when you read its
contents and confronted your father. You informed him that you would reveal his
secret if he did not come forward. Rather than facing the king’s justice or
attempting to escape as a pauper, he chose to take his own life,” the Sword
Bearer explained.

Ruald just stared at the hooded figure in amazement. The man
talked of killing another human being as though discussing the planned
progression of the evening meal. In fact, his mother had shown a million times
more emotion over the evening meal than this man did when discussing killing
Ruald’s own father. But, his father was a terrible rapist and murderer of a
young girl who had been a guest in his home – a young girl who might have
become Ruald’s wife had his father not sent her screaming to an early grave.

Finally, the young lord nodded his acceptance with a heavy
heart and a roiling conscience. In so many ways and for so many reasons he
hated his father, but the man was still his father. After tonight, Ruald would
be Head of his House – a House with a dark secret that simply
had
to
be revealed.

Rezkin departed the Addercroft estate that night with the
satisfaction of accomplishing his goal. In the end, the marquis left a hastily
scrawled note stating that he would not be condemned and then jumped from the
window, breaking his neck in the fall. Defenestration was messy but believable.
The Captain of the House Guard had been standing outside Addercroft’s chambers,
so when he rushed in at the sound of the commotion, he knew the marquis had
been alone. Ruald would not be suspected of any wrongdoing.

The next morning, the mood between the three travelers was
very different. Frisha and Tam felt much better now that they realized their
erstwhile friend was not as frightening or dangerous as they first believed.
The previous night’s conclusions had gone a long way in soothing away their
worries. Rezkin was just glad they were packed and ready to leave on time. The
riverboat was scheduled to leave an hour past dawn, and if they were not
aboard, it would leave without them.

Rezkin had gotten up earlier than the others, as was usual,
and set about practicing his sword forms. Afterward, he had gone back to his
room and packed and dressed, which woke Tam. Finally, he ate a quick breakfast
and headed to the stables to prepare Pride while he waited for the others to
break their fast. When he finished with Pride and his pack was secure on the
horse’s back, he led the anxious battle charger to the front of the inn.
Dropping the reins so that the horse knew not to move, he headed back inside to
retrieve his companions. He had little fear that anyone would steal from his
horse, since the aggressive steed would probably bite off the would-be thief’s
head.

When he entered the common room, Frisha and Tam had just
finished their meal and were busy gathering their packs. Rezkin thought they
were carrying a bit too much just to travel to Kaibain, but he had never asked
Frisha why she was going to the city. Rezkin shook his head. There was no way
those two would be carrying all of that to the docks. He would have to strap
some of it to his horse. Some people might have thought it amusing to see a
battle charger used as packhorse. Any decent military man would see it as
sacrilege.

Upon exiting the inn, Frisha stopped and gasped, “
That
is your horse?”

Rezkin looked back and forth between horse and woman. “Yes?”

“But, it’s HUGE!” she exclaimed.

“And scary,” added a slack jawed Tam.

The young warrior nodded and said, “He is supposed to be.
Give me some of your packs. I will strap them onto his back. Do not go near
him, though. He will kick and bite.”

Frisha asked, “Is he so mean?”

“No, not mean. It is just his training. He acts like he is
supposed to,” Rezkin replied. Remembering how Pot had said horses should have a
name, Rezkin added, “His name is Pride.”

Frisha crossed her arms and said, “It suits him.”

As the young travelers left the inn, Roxie came to stand on
the front stoop wiping away tears. Rezkin did not bother to concern himself
with it since the woman did not appear to be injured, but Frisha hid a smug
grin. She felt for the girl, because it was so obvious that she liked Rez, but
Frisha had to admit she had been a little jealous of the girl’s constant
ministrations and hovering around the handsome warrior. Frisha was glad that
she
did not have to say goodbye to Rez.

The docks were quite busy already, even though the sun had
just crested the horizon. The trio found the riverboat at one end of a long
pier. The captain took their Writ of Passage and eyed the horse doubtfully. He
did not know much about horses, but that one looked a bit worrisome.
Not
unlike his owner
, he thought dryly. Initially, Pride balked at crossing the
ramp onto the swaying riverboat, but Rezkin took him in hand as one must with
the stubborn beasts and pretty soon they were all aboard.

As it turned out, the other passengers were all soldiers who
were also heading to Kaibain. The first couple of soldiers Rezkin encountered
abruptly stood to attention and performed a stiff salute, placing a fist over
their hearts. “Good morning, sir,” they intoned in unison.

 Rezkin shook his head, and said, “There is no need for
that. I am not in the army, much less an officer.”

The two eyed his armor and weapons and then the magnificent
battle charger. Both sets of eyes turned back to his, the disbelief clear in
their minds, and they remained at attention. Rezkin shook his head and waved
them off. “As you were,” he ordered.

A quick nod and synchronized, “Yes, sir!” and both men went
back to their tasks.

As Rezkin led the horse to the stall the captain had
assigned, the entire process was repeated with each soldier he passed. As the
young man unloaded the packs and removed the tack, Frisha and Tam stood on deck
speaking in hushed voices.

“I
told
you he’s a noble,” said Tam. “He’s obviously an
officer.”

“You said he’s nineteen. He’s not old enough to be an
officer,” Frisha objected.

Tam waved at the soldiers milling about, “These soldiers
seem to know what he is.”

“Oh, Tam, they’re just assuming, same as we were before.
They don’t know what he is, and he
told
them he’s not in the army. Why
would he lie about that?”

“I don’t know,” he said in contemplation. Sighing, he said,
“Fine, you’re right. I was just assuming, again. Just because he
looks
like an officer doesn’t mean that he
is
one.”

Rezkin rejoined his companions after getting Pride situated.
He was carrying several packs, and a deckhand had the rest. Tam took a couple
of the packs from Rez and thanked him. The deckhand led the three into the hold
where they were assigned a berth. Frisha froze upon entering the tiny space and
seeing her expected living conditions.

The room was long and narrow with three mattresses only
slightly raised above the floor. The bunks were lined up in a row practically
touching. The legs of the bunks were locked to the floor by hooks through metal
rings set into the floorboards. Several additional bunks stood on end lashed up
against the wall closest to the door with thick, sturdy ropes. Two golden
lanterns swung from hooks on the rafters. Tam exchanged nervous glances with
the young woman at his side. This was not at all an appropriate arrangement.

The deckhand unceremoniously dropped their packs and strode
forward. “I see what the lass be thinkin’,” he said. “I’ll put yer mind at ease
a bit. Ye see this ‘ere? This be a partition fer seperatin’ the bunks.” The
deckhand tugged on an off-white canvas that had been strapped to the wall. The
canvas slid stutteringly along a gnarled rope that crossed the ceiling. “Ye
bring it out like so an’ hook it into the floor ‘ere. Gives the women folk some
privacy, see?”

The curtain made the living arrangements only slightly
better. The canvas lit up in the lamplight like a golden wall, and every shape
and movement on the other side could be seen in silhouette.

Rezkin considered the sleeping arrangements. For his own
safety, he would prefer the bunk closest to the far wall, but if he wanted to
protect his
friends
it would be best to take the one closest to the
entrance. He decided to let the other two sort out their own bunks as he
plopped his pack down and set about checking the room for traps and other
dangers.

The deckhand said, “We be shovin’ off soon enough. Ye be
careful, then. The boat ain’t movin’ much now since we be strapped to the pier,
but once we be away, she’ll be rockin’ pretty.”

“What’s your name?” Frisha asked.

The deckhand was a little taken aback that the woman would
bother to ask. His return smile was missing a few teeth but was friendly
enough. “I be Nate, ma’am.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nate. I’m Frisha and this is
Tam and that’s Rez. Do you mind if I ask where you’re from? Your way of
speaking is…different.”

Nate laughed, “Aye, that it be. I be from Downfest, but
don’t ye be thinkin’ all of ‘em talk like me. Only the seafolk do, ye know
– those of us raised as sailors. Got it from me pappy, I did.”

“So you’ve sailed the sea?” she asked. “What’s it like?”

“Oh, I do love the sea. Ain’t nothing more beautiful or
fright’nin. She ken hold ye in ‘er grasp, nurture ye, care fer ye. She gives ye
yer food and livelihood and soothes ye with her song. But, she can be a fierce
mistress, that she be. When she be angry she’ll destroy all in ‘er path and
ain’t nothin’ ken stop ‘er. Ye gotta be ‘umble ta survive on the sea.”

Frisha’s gaze fell on Rez as the old man spoke. His
movements were smooth and sure with catlike grace. The lamplight glinted off
the crossbar of his sword and she was reminded of its deadly edge. He caught
her staring and graced her with a beatific smile. “Yes,” she replied absently
to the sailor, “I think I understand perfectly.”

Tam spied Frisha while she was absorbed with watching Rez.
He knew Frisha was completely enamored with their new friend, and he only hoped
it did not end in heartache for the young woman. He was reminded, again, that neither
had discovered Rez’s purpose for traveling to Kaibain and resolved to ask him
at his first opportunity. For all they knew, Rez was on his way to claim his
bride. At least he was fairly sure Rez was not the type to string Frisha along.
He did not think their new friend would encourage Frisha’s attentions if he did
not feel something in return. As it was, he did not think the warrior realized
how smitten the girl was. Tam decided not to intervene unless it really became
necessary.

A loud shout sounded from above, and the floor lurched…as
did the walls…and the ceiling. The boat was moving. Tam stumbled and caught
Frisha as she fell into him. Rezkin merely lowered his center of gravity while
he adjusted to the movements. It felt much like balancing on the teeter logs
during his training. The strikers impaled a log on a stake and made him stand
upon it and maintain his balance as they pushed it from side to side and up and
down. The practice eventually evolved to involve weapons forms and combat while
balancing on the teeter logs. He had thought at the time that it was simply for
strength and balance training, but he now realized it was perfect preparation
for travel by water. So far this was much gentler than the teeter logs.

Nate chuckled, “Ye’ll get yer sea legs in no time, don’t ye
worry. This be nothin’ compared to the sea. Aye, the river’s goin’ swiftly in
one direction, an’ it do rock a bit from side ta side, but there not be much o’
the ups and downs. Ye should come a’deck an’ watch the banks while ye get
adjusted. Don’t want ye gettin’ sick.”

That reminded Rezkin of the herbs he brought for just such
an event. He pulled them from his pack and stuffed them into a belt pouch. He
would need to find some hot water to prepare a tea if someone got sick. After
he was satisfied that all was in order in the room, he nodded to the others who
followed him to the deck.

The boat was picking up speed, and it was amazing to see the
trees on the banks pass by so quickly. Even Pride at a full out run could not
make such speed. The river was wide and deep. He looked across the murky, black
water and could barely make out individual trees on the far shore. The
riverboat itself was not large. It held four berths below deck and the
captain’s cabin and kitchen (the men called a galley) on top. The riverboat did
not require a full crew to sail downstream, so the deckhands all fit into one
berth. They would not all be sleeping at the same time, so they shared the
bunks in shifts. The other two berths were filled with soldiers, a dozen in
all. The ship’s hull was shallow, but there was still room for a small cargo
hold below the berths. The boat was currently carrying weapons and armor for
which the soldiers were playing escort.

Rezkin was admiring the way the early morning light cast a
glow across the water and lit up the trees on the far side when he sensed the
soldier’s approach. The man was of average height with a lean build and skin
darkened from long days in the sun. His dark blue uniform was clean and crisp,
and his walk was precise, despite the rocking of the boat. The man paused
uncertainly and then, coming to some resolution, saluted before speaking.

“Sir, I am Lieutenant Jimson. I just wanted to introduce
myself and let you know that my men and I are at your service, assuming it does
not interfere with our other duties.”

Frisha and Tam were standing off to one side holding onto
the deck rail and snickering. Having worked through their own misconceptions
regarding Rezkin, they now found it humorous to see the same fault in others.

Rezkin caught the soldier’s gaze and replied firmly, “Thank
you, lieutenant. I am Rezkin. However, I am not in the military and therefore
have no claim to your services.”

The lieutenant glanced around surreptitiously, then leaned
in and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I understand, sir. You are an
average civilian as far as anyone else is concerned, but if you
do
find
yourself in need of us, we are with you.” The lieutenant nodded once and then,
deciding he should not wait for a dismissal since the superior officer was
trying to keep a low profile, he turned and strode away. Tam and Frisha burst
into laughter as Rezkin shook his head in amazement. Apparently, it was easier
to usurp the authority of a military command than he thought.

The rest of the morning was spent meandering around the deck
examining all of the devices and equipment that were unique to a ship. The
soldiers no longer saluted every time he passed, after having had a
conversation with their lieutenant, but they continued to nod deferentially and
maintained a respectful distance. By late morning, Rezkin was becoming
restless. He finally decided to approach the captain about finding a place to
practice his
Skills
.

“Aye, me lord,” said the captain. “Ye ain’t the first
soldier who’s asked for that. Ye can use the quarterdeck, there, but mind yer
feet. If ye fall off, we won’t be comin’ back fer ye.” Captain Talwater’s
accent was not nearly as strong as that of the deckhand, Nate, but it was still
noticeable.

Not caring to correct the captain on his assumptions, Rezkin
simply thanked him and then went to find Lieutenant Jimson. As long as the
lieutenant was being so amicable, he might as well use that to his advantage.
He briefly explained to the lieutenant what it was he desired. At no time did
he make it sound like a command, but the lieutenant interpreted it in his own
way.