The Blackguard (Book 2) (28 page)

This clearly gave Jon pause for a long time. “You mean to act against your own uncle?”
 Jon looked over at Alador.

“I do,” Alador answered quietly. “I also intend to one day see my uncle unseated.” His eyes were unfocused for a moment, realizing that he really did plan to one day see his uncle off the tiers.

Jon stared at Alador for a long moment, then stuck out his hand. “I’m in.”

The rest of the week went uneventfully. Alador didn’t want to find out if Keelee was being paid by Luthian to keep an eye on him, so he’d been avoiding her under the pretense of his foul mood. He knew it was likely, so he didn’t share much, even though she was obviously hurt by his rebuffs. Alador had even slapped her questing hands one night, making it clear that her services were not desired and telling her that he’d let her know when they were. Her intake of breath behind him had made him cringe, but she had rolled away and left him alone, which was what he wanted.

When at last Alador could escape the caverns for his father’s home, he left both excited and fearful. He was finally going to have a taste of freedom, but he also intended to kill a man tonight. He’d been raised that killing was wrong; all his life he’d had to fight the urge to take Trelmar’s life until the day he’d finally given in. But Alador hadn’t planned that – he’d been angry and vengeful. Today he wouldn’t be acting in anger or vengeance but in justice. A part of Alador had come to believe that sometimes you just couldn’t reform or correct evil; sometimes you just had to kill it. The fact that he was okay with this concerned him. He wondered for a brief moment about what Mesiande would think of him now, and decided that this was something he’d never tell her…That is if she ever spoke to him again. The thought twisted in him and he forced himself back to this evening.

Jon had told Alador that he needed to see to a few things first and that he’d meet Alador later. Alador, meanwhile, wondered how wise it was for the three of them to go waltzing into this breeding den of Luthian’s, but the very thought of women being forced to bear children against their will was against everything he believed about small ones. They should have lives of happiness and joy while they were young. Alador doubted that anything connected to Luthian had any sort of happiness or joy.

Alador arrived at his father’s house and spoke the words of entry; the door unlocked for him and he slipped inside. His father had spoken the truth about the house shutting down while he was away; Alador’s boots echoed loudly as he moved down the hall toward the library. Even the furniture had been covered with large sheets of linen. He moved into the library and started a fire using flint and tinder; he couldn’t use magic to do it. Flame had teased him about it, pointing out Alador’s water sphere. “Just puts that spark right out.” Alador could hear the words in Flame’s jubilant tone of voice. He smiled as the spark caught tinder and began to spread.

Alador sat back on his heels, watching the flames of the fire. He’d thought about asking Flame to join them, but he wanted Keelee safe, and Flame was apparently very good at keeping the others from bothering her. And, if Keelee was to be believed, his friend always treated her like a proper lady. Alador couldn’t tell if that were actually true or if Keelee were just trying to spare any feelings he might have. He put another log in the fire absently.

“Intending to make sure everyone knows you’re here?” Sordith spoke softly behind Alador.

Alador had been edgy since his fight with Toman and shot up with his boot dagger in his hand. Sordith caught that hand even as Alador spun about. “Easy, lad. It’s just me.”

“Sordith, you can’t sneak up on people like that. It’ll get you killed,” Alador spat out in frustration.

Sordith just grinned at Alador, letting go of his hand. “It usually gets others killed,” he pointed out.

Alador took a deep breath. “Still, don’t do that.” He sheathed his dagger, moving to the table and pouring them both a short drink. “Are we still on for tonight?” He asked handing a glass over.

S
ordith took the glass filled with fine smalgut and sniffed it. “Yes, though…” Sordith paused and pointed to the glass in Alador’s hand. “Wait, I thought you didn’t drink?” He took the shot, winced at the burn, and smiled with satisfaction. “That’s the stuff.”

“I used to not do a lot of things,” Alador answered softly and tipped the glass back. The burning sensation was somehow calming. He set the glass back down.

“Is your death friend joining us?” Sordith asked curiously as he refilled his glass.

“Yes. He seemed as offended as I was about what’s happening. And before you ask, yes, he knows that it
means taking on the High Minister.” Alador flopped down on a linen covered chair.

“And the Trench Lord,” Sordith pointed out, moving to another chair.

“I might have not mentioned the Trench Lord,” Alador answered, resting his forearm across his eyes.

“You’d think the man would have the right to know about that, Alador,” Sordith said, settling into another chair after removing its cover.

“Yes, but you work beside the Trench Lord. You’ll know if he’s one of the Trench Lord’s men. I didn’t mention it specifically so that you could set eyes on him. If he is one of the Trench Lord’s men, then we kill him. I’m really hoping he isn’t; I rather like the man,” Alador answered evenly, not looking at Sordith.

“Growing up quickly, aren’t you lad?” Sordith’s tone was soft and held sadness, but he nodded in approval of Alador’s foresight.

“Seems like I don’t have much of a choice in this city,” Alador replied.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall, drawing their attention. “You could put five families in the front hall,” Jon stated matter-of-factly as he entered.

That was my first thought.” Alador smiled at Jon. “Jon, may I introduce Sordith. Sordith, this is the mage I spoke about, Jon.”

Sordith rose to his feet, and both men stood assessing each other. Neither moved to acknowledge the other. Alador sighed. “Do you know him Sordith?”

“Nope,” Sordith answered evenly. “He has a determined cut. I like that.”

“Why should he know me?” Jon’s eyes flashed to Alador. “You said nothing about working with some back-alley rogue.”

Sordith bristled at that insult. “I am far better than a back-alley rogue.”

Alador stepped between them. “This is the Trench Lord’s man who has decided that hono
r is more important than slips…” Alador began.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I never said that,” Sordith sputtered waving his hands to the negative. “I said I didn’t like being involved in such dealings. Slips, well that is a whole other matter.”

Alador rolled his eyes. “Fine, he doesn’t like slavery either. Better?”

“Much.” Sordith relaxed a little.

“You can’t trust him,” Jon said flatly.

“People told me that about you, Jon,” Alador pointed out.

“
They were right – you can’t trust me either.” Jon’s eyes were still on Sordith.

“
How about this: after this last week, I don’t trust anyone, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go kill this bastard together. Think you two can put your egos down long enough to go kill a man?” Alador was ready to smack their heads together. And people usually thought he was childish.

Jon considered this for a long moment then nodded once. “I think I can manage that.”

Sordith grinned. “Killing a bastard is just one step below slips,” he offered, puffing up his chest proudly.

Alador took a deep breath. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he was going to kill someone tonight. It had been different when done in anger; Alador couldn’t get the niggling thought out of his head that killing was still wrong, even if the cause were right. “Okay, Sordith. What’s the plan?”

Sordith nodded and led them both over to the table, tossing the linen aside. He laid out a crude sketch of the compound. “These are the holdings on the far opposite side of the Blackguard Caverns. He pointed to the gate to the street. “There are two guards on the outside and inside here.”

Alador looked at the map carefully. “So these won’t be a problem going in – it’ll be getting out.” He looked from the map to Sordith.

Sordith nodded; Jon was silent. “There is a guard at each entry to the house. None of the windows open except the long windows to Veaneth’s veranda. There are three guards that wander the halls and, as far as I can tell, another two that stay close to Veaneth. He is running it much like a brothel. Those that have the slips can come visit the Daezun. The Daezun men, although drugged, don’t look too unwilling and have a fairly regular stream of women visiting, plus they can choose the Lerdenian women that are forced into the house whenever they wish. The Daezun women are pretty much chained to their beds, so if you really mean to release them, we will need to get the keys from Veaneth.”

Jon eyed the map. “I foresee another problem.”

Both Alador and Sordith looked at him expectantly. When Jon didn’t volunteer the answer, Alador prompted him. “Which is…?”

“Once you free them, where will they go?” Jon asked. “If they return to the trenches, the Trench Lord will just round them up again. They cannot remain on the tiers.”

Alador hadn’t considered that. “Is that true? If they return to the trenches, will they be easily found?”  He looked at Sordith with concern.

Sordith nodded. “Daezun stand out there. They’re either killed out of revenge for those who’ve been injured or lost in the wars, or rounded up by Aorun’s men. If you really mean to save them, we’ll have to get them out of the city.” Sordith sighed at that thought. Alador’s desire to save the slaves had added a twist to things.

Alador put both hands on the table, considering. “The refuse wagons leave first thing in the morning and travel down the bridge. I saw them a couple of days ago when leaving my uncle’s early in the morning. We take them out that way. Sordith, can you get me four such wagons? We can hide some inside with garbage on top and the others can leave as collectors.”  

“It’ll take some slips, but I can make it happen,” Sordith answered. “The best time of night will be to hit them just before day break anyway. The stream of customers will have ended by that point, and all will be quiet.”

“Except that we need to be in the house before then, or what would I be calling for?” Alador pointed out.

“It’s run as a brothel,” Jon calmly reminded Alador. “You don’t go to inspect it - you go to enjoy its pleasures.”

Alador’s nose wrinkled at the thought. “I can’t force a woman to see to my needs,” he pointed out. “That’s what we’re supposed to be rescuing them from, remember?”

So
rdith chuckled. “So sit and have a drink with them, and gag them if they won’t shush till we’re ready to act. I like this plan, Jon. I knew I liked the cut of you.”

“I still don’t trust you,” Jon answered stoically.

Alador sighed. “I’d best go change, then. I will have to change into some robes – and Jon, you too. Sordith will not raise a brow armored. I have robes in my room we can wear.”

“I fail to see the use in that. I’m not going without my sword and armor.” Jon brought his hands up in a flourish. A shadow swirled about him, and his clothes changed into black robes with no embellishments.

“We’re going to buy ourselves three women for the night. Live it up Jon, pick something with a little flourish,” Sordith chided.

“I like black,” Jon answered, his voice devoid of emotion as his eyes moved to Sordith.
              Sordith just nodded at the death mage. “Right then, black it is.” Sordith just shrugged, not willing to press the matter.

Alador had remembered his father’s lesson so stringently about how magically empowered clothes were easily dispelled that he had gotten use to just dressing. He considered Jon’s point. If he used his armor and changed it to robes, it would be a simple matter to change them back. He concentrated remembering the many different robes of the high council and found in his mind’s eye, a dark blue robe trimmed with the same silver as his eyes.

Sordith nodded. “I can tell who has the money. That’s more like it.” His hands moved comparatively between the two mages.

“Wait here, I need to get some slips. I’ll be back in a moment,” Alador stated. He headed for the door. “Try not to insult each other too much while I’m gone.” He hurried up to his room to fill a belt pouch, moving quickly. Jon really didn’t seem to like Sordith, and the last thing he needed was for the death mage to kill the man. On his way back down, Alador grabbed two of his father’s fine cloaks. One was a black with red lining, the other was one he hadn’t seen before, but matched his
robes well – black with silver lining and an embossed dragon on its back. He hoped Henrick wouldn’t mind.

When he entered the library, both men were standing at the table, neither speaking to each other. Alador tossed the red trimmed cloak to Jon, who caught it deftly. “Ready?”

Sordith actually looked relieved to see Alador reappear and led the way out of the library. As they were headed out behind Sordith, Alador glanced at Jon, who seemed quite pleased with himself. “What happened while I was gone?”

“I made it clear what would happen to him if this were a trap,” Jon answered
.