A Dance of Death

11

The captain’s quarters of the Ravenshade were even smaller than on the Fireheart, but they still had a bed, which was good enough for Darrel. Light streamed in as the whores opened the door to leave. Instead of shutting, and leaving him in blessed silence, the door pushed wide, and in stepped Lord Ulrich Blackwater.

“Least you waited until I was finished this time,” Darrel muttered.

“Two?” Ulrich asked, glancing behind him.

“Been a rough few days. Thought I deserved the indulgence.”

Ulrich chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Darrel asked. “You think I can’t handle two women?”

“I’m amused you know the word indulgence.”

The captain grinned.

“Ulrich, if there’s ever a word I’m good friends with in this ugly world, it’s that one.”

“Fascinating. Put on some damn pants so we can talk. I’ll be waiting on the deck.”

He shut the door. Darrel scratched at his beard, waiting for his alcohol-filled brain to remember just where he’d tossed his pants before the two women worked their magic on his dick. Finding them behind him on the bed, he pulled them on, tightened the strings, and grabbed a nearby shirt. He was still looping his arms through it as he stepped out onto the deck of his new ship. New to him, anyway, for the diminutive vessel had sailed for many years, and only recently been purchased as a replacement for the Fireheart.

“A real beauty, ain’t she?” he said, seeing Ulrich looking over his ship.

“The best I could do at such short notice,” the merchant said, unimpressed with his sarcasm. “You’re lucky to even have a ship after what happened to my cargo.”

“You know damn well that wasn’t my fault. Three men keeping watch, and they died like they was still scabs. Every one of them knew how to kill, Ulrich, I assure you. Someone don’t want you getting the Violet. That Wraith fellow, maybe?”

“Maybe.” Ulrich bit at his lip, and the captain noticed the way the man’s hands were twitching.

“You need a drink?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

He pulled a tiny sliver of something green from his pocket, popped it on his tongue, and then chewed.

“So what is it you’re here for?” Darrel asked, crossing his arms. He had no intention of watching his boss take little snippets of Violet, not when he couldn’t have any himself. Every shred of it had gone down with the Fireheart, burning away a fortune and nearly killing him in his sleep to boot. He’d woken by the sound of warning cries and dove into the water just in time.

“Laurie Keenan died last night,” Ulrich said, sniffing deeply. “Killed by the Wraith.”

“No shit? Who’s running the family now?”

“His wife.”

“Damn. What’s that got to do with me?”

Ulrich appeared to visibly calm, and he gave Darrel a wide grin.

“Things are coming to fruition, my dear captain, but we need to ensure everything goes our way. Madelyn’s scooping up every mercenary in the city, and throwing enough gold to break what little loyalty they had to us. We need a counter. I want you to start spreading orders to the rest of my ships, and my brother’s too.”

“What’s that?”

“No one leaves Angelport. I don’t care if the docks fill up, either. Beach along the coast if need be.”

Darrel tried to do the math, but knew that number was way beyond him.

“You’re talking a lot of waste and headaches,” he said. “Any foodstuffs will spoil, and that’s not touching the nonsense we’ll encounter in every damn port we arrive late to, assuming we arrive at all. The other merchants all right with this?”

“They will be. We need as many fighting men as possible, all loyal to us. It’s time this city learned who’s really in charge. Any friends you know, bring them on board. Plenty of men may not consider themselves sellswords, but they’ll still bleed and die for a bit of coin. I want them all.”

“What if someone leaves anyway?” Darrel asked.

Ulrich gave him a pleasant smile.

“Then all nearby ships are to board, tie up their crew, and burn them alive. No one leaves, Darrel. No one.”

Darrel shrugged.

“You’re in charge, so I’ll spread the word. What will you do in the meantime?”

“Why, give the Keenans my most heartfelt condolences for their loss, of course,” Ulrich said, smacking the captain on the shoulder before heading down the plank to the dock with a bounce in his step.

T hey’d scoured the entire mansion top to bottom, but of course the guards found no sign of the Wraith. Madelyn had spent the night among her servants, red-eyed and unable to sleep. They all thought she was in shock, and they were partly right. But one thing weighed on her mind, and she could discuss it with no one: what to do with Alyssa Gemcroft come morning.

When at last light shone through the windows, she bathed, dressed, and then met with Torgar outside her door. He grunted at her rough appearance.

“You look like shit,” he said.

“You look little better,” she snapped back. It was true, too. Despite his apparent lack of care, the mercenary had been a veritable demon ordering around the house guards, and to her shock, he’d even gutted two that dared mouth off, or slacken at their duties in searching the grounds. Both sported dark circles under their eyes, Madelyn from tears, him from lack of sleep.

“Sorry,” Torgar mumbled, and she could tell he was finally realizing she was the head of the household now. “He can’t be close, but we’ll keep looking, keep searching. I’ll find out how he got in, how he killed Laurie. That’s a promise.”

The certainty gave her a shiver, and she hid it with a half-hearted sob.

“Forgive me,” she said. “I have much to do.”

“Like what?”

Madelyn took a deep breath.

“Why, I must inform our guests of Laurie’s passing.”

She started walking down the hallway, and Torgar joined her in step. He reached for her elbow, to stop her, but pulled back at the last moment.

“Sorry for the boldness, Madelyn, but you should be resting. Alyssa’s already aware of what happened, I assure you. The whole damn city probably knows by now.”

Her glare made him take a step back.

“Hold your tongue,” she said. “I will do as I please, do you understand me?”

Absently he nodded, and he looked to her as if seeing her for the first time. Scowling, she continued onward. She felt herself balancing on a knife’s edge, and her outburst was a dangerous misstep. If she didn’t play the grieving widow just right, people might start asking questions, might come to certain realizations that would end with her head on a pike, or in chains before the other leaders of the Trifect. Given the respect Laurie commanded from their house guards, even they might turn on her if they knew the truth.

“Forgive me,” Madelyn said, trying to soothe things over. “I’m still not comfortable with the thought of replacing Laurie, especially when it comes to the Trifect.”

“Of course,” Torgar said, but he didn’t sound too understanding. Forcing him out of her mind, she continued to Alyssa’s room. She felt her anger rise as she pushed open the door. It was these three who had caused everything, who had forced her to do such…terrible things to her husband. Inside, she saw Alyssa already awake. She sat on the edge of her bed, with the other female servant of hers beside her. Blankets covered up to her neck, and immediately Madelyn could tell she was with fever by the way sweat covered her forehead and the pale color of her skin.

“Madelyn,” Alyssa said, standing at her entrance. “I heard and…please, I’m so sorry. Laurie was a great man.”

Madelyn nodded, unsure of what to say to that. Was her husband a great man? Perhaps once. But it wasn’t a great man she’d stabbed and torn to pieces. That was a shell, a disgrace to the strength she’d married. As she paused, she noticed Haern leaning against a wall, his arm and shoulder bandaged. It was him, she thought. He was the criminal, the killer. More than anyone, he was to blame for the Wraith’s ire against her family. Did his symbol, left at Taras’s room, not prove that?

“Lord Ingram will still be looking for you,” she told him.

“Let him,” said Haern.

“I only say this because it was my husband’s last command. He sought to protect you, and so I shall honor that, no matter how much it might sicken me. Angelport is a dangerous place, but at least here, you’ll be safe.”

“Safe?” said Alyssa. Her face was a calm facade, but Madelyn knew her mind was whirring behind it, trying to understand. It wouldn’t take her long, but still she had to put on the show. It was for neither of them, after all, but the rest of the household, if not all of Dezrel. The Trifect could not be seen killing one another.

“Yes, safe. All three of you should be safe here.”

“After last night, forgive me for wondering,” said Haern. “Besides, we must fetch a healer for Zusa.”

For such a comment, Madelyn wanted to strangle him, but she let it slide over her.

“I will send for someone,” she said. “Now if you’ll forgive me, I must be going.”

“And I as well,” said Alyssa. “I have plenty of coin, and I’m sure I can find someone who will not betray…”

“No,” Madelyn said, her voice firm. Behind her, Torgar reached for his sword, as if he could read her mind. “No, you must stay. I will not have you endanger yourself out in the streets, not when Ingram is looking for any way to strike at us. All three of you must stay here. The Wraith will not get to you, I promise.”

“Is that so?” Alyssa asked. “How kind of you.”

“Torgar, assign a guard to watch over them,” she said, her orders as much for Alyssa as the mercenary. “I’d hate for anything to happen.”

“May I still wander the mansion?” Alyssa asked, but her words were dripping with false sympathy. Madelyn smiled, let the tiniest bit of her victory seep into her voice.

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

She shut the door, and Torgar followed her as she left.

“They’re dangerous,” he said, glancing back.

“Alyssa is but a child, and the other two are wounded.”

“Wounded animals tend to be the most dangerous.”

She whirled on him.

“Then I expect your men to do their job,” she said. “They don’t leave. Gods know why I don’t just cut off their heads and be done with all three.”

Torgar stepped closer, and he lowered his voice.

“So much for honoring your husband’s final wishes,” he said.

Dangerous ground, Madelyn realized, but she could not do it. Not when it came to that harlot, Alyssa.

“He’s dead, and I’m in charge,” she said softly. “And Alyssa’s a disease rotting away at the Trifect’s core. They don’t leave that room, for any reason. Have I made myself clear?”

“Perfectly clear,” said Torgar. He saluted her, his motions stiff and lacking any fluidity. “And may I ask just how long they will not be leaving that room?”

“For now, just a day or two,” she said. “Once night comes…forever.”

A guard came from the front door, and he paused while waiting for acknowledgement.

“What?” asked Torgar.

“A man at the gate wishes to speak with you,” he said.

“Go,” said Madelyn. “And remember, I want a guard in there at all times.”

“I’ll handle it,” Torgar said, suddenly grinning at her. It was so wolfish, so disgusting, she shivered. “Trust me, I got all this under control. What about all the various stuffshirts wishing to give their sympathy? I’ve got them corralled up at the front.”

“Let them wait,” she said. “I have no time for their false sorrow.”

Glad to be away from the mercenary, Madelyn hurried to Taras’s old room to once more join her servants. More than anything, she wanted to hold Tori in her arms, shut her eyes, and cry away the last memories of her husband, until nothing remained inside her but a faded shadow.

T he entire estate looked to be on lockdown when Ulrich arrived at the front gate.

“Let me through,” he said to one of the five guards that stood watch on the other side.

“No one enters.”

“I am Ulrich Blackwater, and I am no commoner for you to turn away. Send for someone I may speak with if you insist I remain outside.”

The guard sent someone off running, and a few minutes later they returned with a giant sellsword in tow.

“Ulrich, you bastard, what are you here for?” asked Torgar.

“I heard the grim news,” Ulrich said. “I’ve come to offer my condolences.”

Torgar turned and spat.

“How long did I work for you?”

“Three years, if I remember. It was so long ago…”

“Aye, three years. How many times, in those three years, did you ever feel sorry for anyone but yourself? You were more likely to cry over your spilled ale than a dead child lying at your feet.”

Ulrich clenched his teeth, but he kept his face calm.

“I’ll forgive such rudeness if you let me in. It would be impolite of me to deny respect to such a man as Laurie.”

Despite the rolling of his eyes, Torgar grumbled an order to the guards. They unlatched the gate and swung it open, slamming it shut behind Ulrich after he entered.

“Keep it short and sweet,” said Torgar. “As you can see, we’re not in the mood for guests.”

“I’ve noticed,” Ulrich said, glancing at the guards as Torgar escorted him toward the front door. Every section of the wall was guarded by mercenaries, many who had, until recently, been in his employ. The front door had a man on each side, standing with their swords drawn. Even when he looked to the windows, he swore he saw men with crossbows.

“Fearing an invasion?” he asked. He’d told Darrel that the Keenans were rounding up every mercenary they could find, but actually seeing it in person was another thing entirely. The place was crawling with them.

“Something like that. Between Lord Ingram and the Wraith, we’re needing much as we can get.”

They came inside, and Ulrich found himself on the receiving end of several glares from petty nobles gathered in the front parlor. In return, he bowed low.

“Gentlemen,” he said, giving them a mocking grin.

“You have no right to be here,” said one, a middle-aged man with a graying beard. “Wretches like you are why the Wraith torments us so.”

“Is that so?” Ulrich asked. “I was not aware you had spoken with the elusive butcher. Please, tell me, what did he have to say about me?”

“Shut up,” Torgar said, and it seemed he spoke to both. “Madelyn’s in Taras’s old room. Follow me.”

The sellsword led the way, his broad shoulders bumping into the finely dressed nobles who didn’t move in time. Ulrich followed in his wake, and he winked at the bearded man, who looked ready to draw a sword if he had one. It only amused him further.

They walked down the hall, took a few turns, then stopped before an open door. Inside, he saw Madelyn sitting on a bed, dressed in a simple black outfit, laced tight. Leave it to her to find a way to make mourning look sexy, thought Ulrich. She held a baby in her arms; Taras’s kid, if he remembered correctly. All around her doting servants waited for the slightest request. Ulrich saw lines in her rouge from tears, as well as her pale complexion, and was surprised. He’d expected an icy woman like her to be taking things better.

“Milady,” Ulrich said, offering a sweeping bow. “It pains me to see you in mourning yet again. Surely the gods are cruel to let such a fate befall you.”

“Some say there is love in cruelty,” Madelyn said, beckoning for him to enter. “Do you think so?”

“Cruel men can make love,” Ulrich said. “Not so sure about the other way around.”

Torgar gave a half-wave to Madelyn before stepping out.

“Let me know when you’re ready for him to leave,” he said.

Ulrich stood before her, letting a silence stretch over them as he thought of what to say.

“How is your health?” he asked, though he could plainly see she looked ill.

“I will be better,” she said. “Though you’re not one known for his compassion. Is there some business with my husband you’d like to discuss?”

Ulrich feigned insult.

“Of course not. Laurie was a rival, not an enemy. I can still mourn his loss, can I not?”

She nodded, and Ulrich took no offense from the noncommittal response. She was right, of course. He was hardly known for his compassion, and his ego wasn’t large enough to take offense from the truth. As for his business, well…he did have one issue to discuss, other than scouting out the mansion to see its defenses, as well as confirm the mass hiring of mercenaries.

“We’re to meet with Ingram and the elves in a few hours,” he said, sitting beside her and gently patting her hand. “I’ll make sure they know the reason for your absence.”

“Absence?”

She yanked her hand away and rubbed it as if she’d been burned.

“Why, I merely thought…”

“No,” Madelyn said, shaking her head. “Delay the meeting. How could anyone expect me to be there today?”

“Delay isn’t an option,” Ulrich said, making sure the slightest hint of condescension slipped into his voice. “The city is already full of unrest because of the elves’ visit. If you must, have Alyssa speak for the Trifect.”

“No!”

Ulrich was taken aback by the ferocity of her outburst. He chuckled, unsure of how else to react.

“Very well. Laurie made the Trifect’s position clear, so I’m sure we’ll do fine without anyone…”

“I will be there,” Madelyn said. “I will not have my house absent. Nothing so important happens in Angelport without our approval.”

Only the million things that pass underneath your nose every day, thought Ulrich.

“You are a brave woman,” he said instead. He let the silence linger for a moment, then out of pure spite asked why the Wraith had chosen to attack again.

“What did Laurie ever do to earn his wrath?”

“He was weak,” Madelyn said, rocking the sleeping babe in her arms. “But I won’t be. Good day, Ulrich. I will see you at Ingram’s mansion.”

Ulrich stood, and he bowed again. Before leaving, he had one last thing to ask.

“Forgive the intrusion, but by chance is the lovely Zusa here? We were in the midst of a fine conversation before we were interrupted.”

Madelyn’s face hardened into stone, and Ulrich marked the bizarre reaction.

“Zusa left with her husband for Veldaren,” she said.

“A shame,” Ulrich said, about his only honest reaction in their entire conversation. “Might she return to Angelport soon, perhaps when things have settled?”

“I doubt it. Goodbye, Ulrich.”

“May you endure,” Ulrich said in return. He stepped out, and found Torgar waiting not far down the hall, a wineskin in hand.

“You listening in?” he asked.

“Not particularly,” said Torgar. “Don’t expect much interesting conversation between her crying and your ass-kissing.”

Ulrich pulled the door shut behind him.

“I was told you’d lead me to Zusa’s room. She’s leaving for Veldaren soon, and I wish to say my farewells.”

The sellsword lifted an eyebrow.

“That so?”

“It is.”

Torgar shrugged.

“Whatever.”

He turned toward the back of the mansion, and Ulrich’s heart began to race as he followed. Such a simple piece of intrigue, for sure. Did the newlyweds have a falling out with Madelyn? Were they injured? And what might happen if Torgar realized he’d been duped? Glancing about, he had a sudden, more dire thought. What would happen if Torgar decided to draw that giant sword of his and ram it through Ulrich’s chest? Given their guards and wealth, the Keenan mansion might as well be a foreign nation. His brother might try for revenge, at least, but that’d be little comfort if he was deep in a grave…

Near the servants’ quarters, they stopped before a door, and Torgar gestured for him to enter.

“It ain’t locked,” he said. “I broke it.”

Another strange oddity. He pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was empty, the bed sheets ruffled and stained with blood. Torgar stepped in, saw the same, and then drew his sword.

“Fuck!”

It was then Ulrich saw the dead guard slumped in the corner to his right, his skin a pale white and his head at an awkward angle. Still clipped to his belt was an empty scabbard.

Suddenly Ulrich realized it wasn’t just an oddity anymore.

“Time to go,” Torgar said, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him out of the room. Normally Ulrich would have taken offense, but he knew a precarious situation when he saw one.

“Of course,” he said. “I should prepare for the meeting, anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Torgar said, clearly not listening. Instead of the front door, Ulrich found himself heading toward the back. At the first hallway crossing, Torgar spotted a guard and began shouting.

“Where are they?” he roared. The guard paled and took a step back, and even Ulrich felt intimidated.

“Who?” asked the befuddled guard.

“Who else? Alyssa and her pets! Gods, what I’d give for someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

As Torgar ordered for them to sound an alert, Ulrich could only begin to wonder the reason why Alyssa was being treated like an escaped prisoner. He knew the Trifect had its occasional infighting, but nothing like one taking the other hostage.

Torgar kicked open the backdoor, and more shoved than led Ulrich through. The two guards, one on either side, lay bleeding on the ground. He couldn’t tell if they were dead or unconscious, but it certainly seemed the former. Seeing this, Torgar looked ready to explode. More than ever, Ulrich felt ready to be gone.

“I can show myself out,” he offered.

Torgar shot him a look, at first with eyes wide and feral. Ulrich’s throat tightened, and he felt no better when the sellsword suddenly grinned at him.

“Scared to get a little blood on your hands?” he asked him.

“Scared it’ll be my own blood, yes.”

The backyard was not as guarded as the front, for it lacked any passage or gate through the brick wall surrounding the estate. Near one wall lay three more bodies, their blood soaking into the grass and staining the nearby bricks.

“Not even an alarm,” Torgar muttered. “Couldn’t even raise a damn alarm.”

He let out a cry, and from either side of the mansion mercenaries came running. Ulrich followed Torgar toward the bodies as he went to examine them, feeling unsure if he would be allowed to leave or not. So far the sellsword had made no outward threat, but still, he couldn’t shake the feeling his life hung by a thread.

“Climbed over,” Torgar said as the first arrived.

“Shit,” said the first mercenary. “How’d this happen?”

“Love to know myself,” said Torgar. “You three, form up squads, and get it done five minutes ago. Scour the area outside the mansion. I want those three found.”

“What three?” asked one of the mercenaries.

“Alyssa!” Torgar roared. “Who else could I be talking about? Now go!”

As they burst into action, Torgar grabbed Ulrich by the shoulder and dragged him toward the front. Halfway there, out of sight of any possible witnesses, the sellsword pulled him close enough for Ulrich to smell the wine on his breath.

“You listen well, you little runt. Not a word of this gets out to anyone, understand? It does, I know who talked. I don’t like people who talk about things that got nothing to do with them. They end up dead. Have I made myself clear?”

“You have, though remember, I don’t take kindly to people who make threats,” Ulrich said, standing erect even though he knew he looked ridiculous before the imposing sellsword.

“Threats? I’m not making threats, Blackwater. I’m stating a damn fact. Now get out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

He shoved Ulrich toward the front gate and, no fool, Ulrich hurried away. The guards at the front looked him over, then let him pass. Outside the walls, Ulrich smoothed his clothing and glared at the mansion. Hardly a moment later, the first of several squads emerged, each heading in a different direction to search. Amused by their urgency, he wandered down one of the side streets that led to the back alley behind the Keenan estate. Leaning against the wall, he watched with a smirk as two different squads raced in and out of view, making a lot of noise but discovering little.

That smirk changed to a full-blown grin when, after the squads were gone, he saw a familiar blond-haired man suddenly step into view far down the street, turn, and beckon behind him. Trying not to look suspicious, Ulrich wandered their way as Haern vanished from view. Alyssa appeared next, and it seemed like Zusa leaned against her, needing help to stand. When the two women were outside his line of sight, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Staying at least one block behind, he followed them as they made their way through the back alleys of Angelport. Once far enough from Madelyn’s mansion, they traveled along the main roads, blending in with the sea of people. But Ulrich knew who they were despite the plain clothes they wore, no doubt as a disguise. He followed until they reached a place they seemed to deem safe, and stepped inside.

Ulrich could hardly contain his joy.

“The elves?” he said, letting out an uncontrollable laugh. “Oh my dear Alyssa, you couldn’t have made it any easier for me if you tried.”

He hurried back for his own mansion, eager to change and then speak with his brother. They had so much to discuss.