Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) (53 page)

Reaylin turned her hazel eyes toward Tam and asked, “What in
the world was that?”

Tam shook his head, “I really don’t understand anything that
goes on between those two. General Marcum has hated Rezkin since they first
met, despite the fact that he seems to agree with him most of the time on
pretty much anything that doesn’t involve Frisha. He even seems to respect
Rezkin for his knowledge and skills, I think. The general has never trusted
him, though. Every time they are in a room together, I am almost certain one of
them is going to end up dead.”

“But, didn’t you notice? Rez didn’t push it, but it seemed
like
he
was the one in charge. Don’t you think that’s odd?” Reaylin
asked.

Tam shook his head. “I don’t think Rez was actually ordering
the general around. I think they were both just being antagonistic. General
Marcum gives orders and expects people to comply, and Rez just
doesn’t
.
He has always been respectful toward the general, but he doesn’t recognize the
man as having any authority over him.” Tam scratched his head and furrowed his
brow. “Which, I guess, he doesn’t since Rez isn’t a soldier. One thing is for
sure, though. General Marcum knows something about who Rez is that we don’t.”

“Why do you say that?” Reaylin questioned with wide eyes.

Tam shrugged uncomfortably. “It was weird. The general got a
letter delivered from the colonel at Fort Maneske, and then Rez handed him
another paper, and all of a sudden things changed. The general was
really…upset...or maybe disturbed. I’m not really sure. When Frisha finally got
him to disclose something, General Marcum just said that Rezkin had King
Bordran’s trust.”

Reaylin gasped, “Seriously?”

Tam shook his head. “That’s what he said.”

“How did Rezkin know the king? And, why would General Marcum
hate Rezkin if King Bordran trusted him?” Reaylin questioned.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been wondering,” Tam replied. “I
don’t know. Maybe he met him at the fort where he was raised. Maybe King
Bordran knew Rezkin’s parents or mentors or something. It’s really weird,
though, right?”

“Sure is. Do you think he knows King Caydean?” Reaylin
asked.

“I don't know, but I do know that whatever was in those
letters, Rez doesn’t really want getting around. He doesn't even want Frisha to
know,” Tam remarked. Tam looked sideways at Reaylin and threatened, “So don’t
tell anyone.”

Reaylin scowled at Tam. “Who am I supposed to tell? Besides,
Rez saved my life. I’m not going to go around telling people about him if it
might cause him problems.”

Tam shook his head and started to walk away. “I’d better go
let Frisha know what’s going on.”

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll come back tomorrow in case there’s
new information,” Reaylin said.

Tam walked Reaylin to the door just to make sure she found
her way out and did not snag anything that did not belong to her along the way.
He still did not trust the girl. He then made his way up to Frisha’s room where
he knocked incessantly until she finally opened the door.

Frisha’s eyes were puffy, her nose was red, and she looked
completely worn. “What is it, Tam? I don’t really feel like talking.”

“I know, but I have some news. May I come in?” Tam asked as
he shoved his hands in his pockets and ducked his head. Tam did not really know
what to do for his childhood friend. He had never had to deal with a broken
heart, and he had never seen Frisha so infatuated with a man.

“I guess, but keep it down. Aunt Adelina will get upset if
she finds out you are in here with me
alone
,” she said sardonically. “It
just wouldn’t be
proper.
”

Tam ducked his head again and closed the door behind him.
“We just had another one of those meetings with your uncle and Rez,” he
grumbled.

“I bet that was fun,” Frisha moaned. “Did Rez convince him
to change his mind?” she asked hopefully.

Tam sighed. “No. But, your uncle is going to let you go to
the tournament with us.”

“Really? How is that going to work? Oh, no! He’s not
planning to marry me off to someone else is he? It’s not you or Jimson is it?”
Frisha asked in a panic.

Tam scowled, “No, of course not. Your cousins are going.”

Frisha blinked. “My cousins? You mean the Jebais?”

“Yeah,” Tam replied, “
Lords
Malcius and Palis and
Lady
Shiela.”

Frisha groaned, “Oh, I don’t even want to go, anymore. I
really only wanted to go to be with Rez. I wanted to spend more time with him
and see him compete in the tournament. I was worried that if he went away I
wouldn’t see him again. There’s no point, now, since Uncle Marcum rejected our
union. It will just be that much more difficult to be around him knowing it can
never happen. If my cousins go on the trip it will just be even more
miserable.”

Tam shrugged, “Rez has already made all of the arrangements,
but he did mention to the general that you might have changed your mind. You
don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I was only going because it sounded
exciting and I wanted to see Rez and Jimson compete, also. Now, the whole thing
sounds like a lot of trouble.”

Frisha kicked a pillow and growled in frustration. “Why
won’t Rez just accept me? I was willing to run off with him and forsake my
inheritance, and he said, ‘No!’ ”

“Oh, come on, Frisha. He’s trying to do what’s best for you,
and I respect him for it. I know it hasn’t been easy on him, either. I don’t
think he’s quite given up on you,” Tam replied.

“It certainly sounded like it to me! He didn’t even fight
for me. If he cares so little then maybe I shouldn’t go, anyway. I don’t even
want him anymore!” Frisha huffed.

Tam scowled and argued, “You should hear some of the stuff he’s
been saying to the general. For a moment earlier, I thought they were actually
going to draw swords!”

“What?” Frisha gasped. “They wouldn’t. Oh, no, what if
Rezkin gets himself killed? My uncle is a Swordmaster, Tam.”

“Your uncle is
old
, Frisha, and truth be told, he
didn’t look so confident when he was faced with Rezkin’s anger,” Tam replied.

“All over me?” Frisha asked.

“Well, not
just
you. You know how the general has
been treating him. It hasn’t gotten any better, and I think Rez’s patience is
wearing thin,” Tam answered. “Anyway, like I said, you don’t have to go to
Skutton. Reaylin was here earlier, and she’s really excited, especially since
she heard about your uncle rejecting Rez. I'm sure she and
Lady
Shiela
will be happy to keep Rez company in your stead.”

Frisha gaped in righteous indignation. She grabbed the
pillow off the ground and lobbed it at Tam’s head. “Tamarin Blackwater! I
cannot believe you could be so insensitive.”

“What? You were the one who said you didn’t want him. It
sounds to me like you’re the one giving up too easily,” Tam remarked.

“Well, shut up. Of course I want him,” Frisha huffed. “Fine,
I’ll go and if Reaylin or Shiela even think about stealing him from me, I’ll
show them just how much I want him!”

Tam started laughing at Frisha’s expense, and after a
moment, Frisha could not help but join him.

Getting into another argument with General Marcum was the
perfect excuse for leaving the general’s home. Rezkin had made the extra effort
to spend time practicing with Tam earlier not only as part of his duty toward
his
friend
, but also as a method of averting suspicion for a conspicuous
absence. The family might excuse a few hours here and there, but if he were
gone for extended periods of time, people would start asking questions. Rezkin
did not care to outright
lie
to his
friends
. That did not seem
like a good way to honor them. Instead, he used half-truths, redirection and
avoidance to prevent them from learning too much.

It was not that Rezkin
wanted
to mislead his
friends
,
but it was safer if they were not involved in the darker maneuverings of his
life. Tam and Frisha were innocent and naïve, having been sheltered all their
lives by people who cared about them. The warrior thought it was more of a
detriment to their well-being to be oblivious to the way the world really
worked, but showing them the truth too quickly could break their minds or at
the very least, their trust. They would not understand everything he had to do.
Now, it was time for his most ambitious plan.

Although it was still afternoon, Rezkin donned his night
stealth gear, more for disguise and dramatic effect than for stealth. The dark
mottled clothing, black armor and deep cowl would make him more obvious in the
daylight, but he did not intend to be seen. Rezkin moved through shadows and
alleys and across rooftops. He eventually found himself not too far from the
Diamond Claw Guildhouse. His Justainian contacts awaited him anxiously.

“No, Ash, I told you to put it down!” Broken snapped as he
slapped something out of Ash’s hand.

“But it’s gross! I wanted to look at it,” Ash said
dejectedly.

“It’s s’posed to be gross. It’s a slug. The Raven will be
here soon, and we don’t want him thinkin’ we’re just a couple of silly kids. He
asked for us
specifically
. Don’t you get how important that is?” the
older small-man prodded.

“But, he already
knows
who we are, and he asked for
us ‘
pacifically
,” Ash said, repeating the difficult word used by his
older guild mate. “If he wanted someone else he woulda asked for ‘em. He knows
we’re kids.”

“An astute observation, Ash,” Rezkin said as he emerged from
the shadows.

Both small-men jumped with a squeal. These small-men were
far behind, not only in their
Skills
training, but also in understanding
and adhering to the
Rules
. This was not a surprise considering how
poorly these outworlders as a whole complied with the strictures. It was a
condition he was working to remedy.

“Ah…H-Hello…I mean, Greetings Master Raven,” Broken
sputtered, which Ash parroted.

“Greetings to you. Where is your chaperone?” The Raven
asked.

“Oh, Rom’s takin’ a piss,” Ash replied. “He’ll be right
back.”

           
Rom was, in fact, not
takin’ a piss
. Rezkin had observed the man
smashing in someone’s head in an alley a few blocks from where they stood. The
victim was obviously a regular
inker.
Nearly every inch of his exposed
skin was covered in purple-black tattoos. Apparently, the big man desired to
keep the small-men in the dark about what he was doing, so Rezkin left the
matter alone.

           
A moment later, Rom rounded a corner wiping his hands on a rag that was
probably what remained of the
inker
’s shirt. He threw the rag aside and
then awkwardly bowed to The Raven. “Greetings, Master Raven,” he said, his
voice deep and confident.

Bowing was not something members of the thieves’ guilds did,
but they had begun developing some unusual habits with regard to The Raven. The
thieves’ guilds across the cities continued to operate independently and
competitively, but most of them were now unified under Rezkin’s rule, a unity
he only enforced for a few specific purposes. Rom reported at their previous
meeting that Attica had gained measurable confidence since taking over position
of Guildmaster. The knowledge that The Raven favored her went a long way in
solidifying her hold on the position, and she had a strong desire to impress
the mysterious Master.

           
Rezkin surveyed the three thieves before him. In truth, they did not
look
like thieves. They appeared to be a poor but strong, hardworking man and his
two sons. Nodding once he simply said, “Come.”

           
The three thieves followed the shadowy Raven out of the city. He moved swiftly,
and they struggled to keep up, but The Raven was considerate enough to slow
when one fell behind. Once they neared the long queue of travelers exiting the
city gates, he told the thieves to meet him on the other side, and he
disappeared.

           
When the patrol passed, Rezkin slipped over the wall and scurried down a thin
mage rope. The rope was nearly as thin as thread but stronger than steel, and
it cost a hundred times its length in gold. It would never break, slip its
knot, or tangle. This was one of the treasures he had taken when he left the
fortress – his home. It was a strange thought. He had never really
thought of
home
before, but he supposed the fortress had been his. Once
he reached the bottom, he gave the rope a swift tug and imposed his
will
upon it. The rope released itself from where it was tied at the top, and Rezkin
quickly wound it up and placed it back in his pouch.

The warrior quickly jogged to the river to check his
preparations and found them in order. By the time he jogged back, Rom and the
small-men were making their way casually up the road. Rezkin stepped into their
path causing them to jump back once again. “This way,” he said, and they
followed.

When the motley group reached the river, they piled into a
rowboat large enough for four or five grown men. Rezkin handed each of the
thieves a packet of food wrapped in cheesecloth and passed around a waterskin.
“Eat. You will need it.”

Rezkin had already eaten his own meal, having skipped dinner
at the general’s house. His friends and the Marcums might be a bit offended, but
due to his earlier exchange with the general, they would excuse his absence
– in Marcum’s case, appreciate it. The young warrior hated to see how
scrawny and underfed the thieves were, even Rom, but he had a feeling the big
man’s leanness had more to do with him giving away his rations to the younger
boys. Rezkin instructed Attica and the other Guildmasters to provide more food
to the younger members, but he had few means of monitoring their compliance at
this point.

Rom and Rezkin rowed the boat, and the big man repeatedly
glanced at him questioningly but did not dare question the Master. Rezkin
finally nodded and asked, “What is it, Rom?”

“If ya don’t mind me askin’, Master, where are we goin’?”
the dutiful Second inquired.

Rezkin smirked and said, “To the Black Hall, of course.”
Rom’s face drained of color, and Broken abruptly stopped eating to stare at the
Master Raven.

Ash looked around curiously and asked, “What’s the Black
Hall?”

“It’s
death
,” Rom said without thinking.

Ash turned to Broken and shook him saying, “What’s he mean,
Broke? What’s he mean
death
?”

Broken shoved Ash’s hand away and exclaimed in a whispered
shout, “It’s the Assassin’s Guild, twit. Ain’t you never listened to the
stories?”

“But, I thought that was just a story,” Ash complained. “Are
we really goin’ there?” he asked the The Raven with pleading eyes.

“Yes,” he plainly answered.

“You, ah, have business with the Slips?” Rom cautiously
asked.

“I do, but they have yet to recognize it,” Rezkin answered.

“Nobody goes to the Black Hall without an invitation,”
protested the Second. “At least, if they do, they don’t ever come out.”

Rezkin shrugged. “Perhaps there have been others, but I know
of one who has for certain.”

Already suspecting the answer, Rom asked anyway. “Who would
that be?”

Rezkin grinned in answer. “But, do not concern yourself.
They are aware we are coming.”

“You sent word ahead?” Rom asked with a tiny measure of
relief. Perhaps the Slips would just send them away instead of killing them
since they announced their arrival ahead of time.

“Of course,” Rezkin replied. “The Hall is very formal, full
of
Rules
and etiquette. It would have been considered rude to show up
unannounced, so naturally I sent word informing them that I would be coming to
collect their fealty.”

“You
what
?!” Rom exclaimed. “You
told
them you
were comin’ to try to take them over? The
Assassin’s Guild
?! You can’t
be serious,” the Second sputtered, momentarily forgetting to whom he was
speaking.

“I am completely serious,” The Raven replied with a
dangerous edge to his voice. “I have need of their services and resources, and
more importantly, I need to implement some restrictions on their
activities
.”
He said this as though he was discussing acquiring a new business.

“They’re
assassins
! They’ll kill us all!” Rom
shouted.

“If you keep shouting, we will have more to worry about than
just assassins,” Rezkin remarked. A few patrols monitored the city perimeter
and along the river in an attempt to help quell the rising number of bandits,
but Rezkin had little concern for the patrols or bandits. As far as anyone
could tell from this distance, they were just two men and a couple of
small-ones in a boat crossing the river, nothing suspicious, but Rezkin did not
want to attract anyone’s attention. The river was very wide, though, so it was
unlikely anyone had heard Rom’s shouting.

“
Just
assassins? Who in the Hells is more frightening
and dangerous than
assassins
?” Rom argued.

Rezkin cocked his head curiously and stared at the Second.
Rom finally caught the inference and swallowed hard. “Y-You don’t seem too
concerned.”

The Raven smirked and replied, “Despite what you obviously
think of me, I am not suicidal. I would not be going into this confrontation if
I were not confident in my ability to prevail. That is not to say there will be
no danger. There most certainly will be, and the consequences of failure are
pain and death. Ash is familiar with such consequences.” He looked at the
younger small-man who smiled hesitantly at The Raven’s morbid reminder of their
first meeting. “I have maneuvered the conditions to my benefit, and I believe I
have the
Skills
to prevail. That does not mean I will succeed.”

“Just how do you expect us to take on the entire Black
Hall?” Rom asked, praying The Raven would say he had an army hidden in the
forest but knowing the prayer would go unanswered.

“I expect to walk the Gauntlet,” The Raven replied.

The Second looked at him questioningly and asked, “The
Gauntlet?”

“A test of sorts, although it is nearly impossible to
survive, and more so since I will have you three to protect,” he replied. “It
is a demonstration of both
Skill
and honor,” he explained.

Rom scoffed. “You keep talking as though assassins have
honor. They kill people for no other reason than coin. I may be a thief, but I
ain’t never killed no one I robbed. They have a right to defend themselves,
after all, and what I want from them ain’t worth their life or mine. Anyone
else was in self-defense.”

Rezkin nodded and said, “I have often heard the phrase there
is no honor among thieves. You may find yourself to be the exception rather
than the rule. Regardless, respectable folk, those who are not criminals, would
say you have no honor for taking what is not yours – for taking something
you did not work to
earn
. You made your own code of honor to justify
your actions, and it enables you to live the way you do.”

Rom shifted uncomfortably but did not protest. The Raven
continued. “The assassins are much the same. They live with a terrible burden,
stealing away the very breath of life. Without strict order, they would fall
into bloodlust and despair. Their code of honor establishes a limit for the
depth to which they will descend. It also enables them to continue operating,
and lucratively at that. Clients fear the assassins but place in them a certain
level of trust.”

“I don’t see how anyone can trust an assassin,” the Second
observed with scorn.

“And, yet, you came to Kaibain and got into this boat with
me
,
and now we sit together in the middle of the Tremadel,” The Raven replied. “You
must place some level of trust in
me
.”

Rom gulped. “Are you one of them?” he asked hesitantly,
fearing the answer.

The Raven scoffed and said, “I am not one of
them
, nor
do I follow
their
code; but I assure you, I have killed many more people
than any one of them, probably more than all of them combined.”

           
The three thieves remained silent as Rom and Rezkin rowed the rest of the way
across the river. When they reached the other bank, Rom told the boys to wait a
short distance away. He turned to The Raven and quietly said, “Considerin’
where we’re goin’, I don’t know whether to be appalled or thankful for
your…um…skills, but I can say for certain that I’m terrified. Why’d you bring
me and these boys with you?”

           
The Raven calmly answered, “
You
are here as an escort for the young ones
and to play witness. If I succeed, I will need others to know of it, not
because I am vain, but because they need to know my power. I am sure you can
guess my intent toward the small-men.”

           
“But, they’re just boys,” Rom protested knowing it would do no good.