by Terah Edun
She wasn’t wounded. But someone was.
Turning around, Ciardis saw a man lying on the floor. Face up, with a crossbolt sticking out of his chest.
Standing up and moving off the bed, Stephanie said with sarcasm, “You’re welcome.”
“What? Who?”
“One of the Duke of Cinnis’s men,” answered Stephanie as she came over and yanked her crossbolt out of his chest. “I don’t think I have to tell you why.”
Pale and shaky, Ciardis moved away from the body, laid the glaive down on the bed, and sat down.
“I’ve been doing this all wrong, haven’t I?”
“If by ‘all wrong’ you mean making enemies, pushing away allies, and generally making a nuisance of yourself, then I’d say yes.”
Ciardis grimaced. “I did what I had to do to save Sebastian’s life.”
“And endangered your own. Did you think that you were the only one who cared?”
“I was the only one who did anything when his powers were failing,” countered Ciardis.
“We were working on that behind the scenes. You managed to turn a two-year investigation into the loss of the Prince’s powers on its head in less than a week.”
“I solved it in less than a week.”
Stephanie put an impatient hand on her hip and glared.
“Who’s ‘we,’ by the way?” asked Ciardis innocently.
The look Stephanie returned said she wasn’t fooled. “That’s not important right now.”
“Really? I think it is.”
“You know what is important?”
Ciardis stood. She was tired of being talked down to.
“Getting some straight answers out of you.”
“No, getting this body out of here before someone sees him.”
They both looked down at the dead man lying on the floor. Ciardis couldn’t say she disagreed. A dead man would be one more thing she would have to answer for and with the way things were going she didn’t have much faith in the Companions’ Guild backing her against charges of murder from a Duke. All of this made her wonder why Stephanie was here though...surely the Guild hadn’t sent her?
Stephanie sighed, “Look we don’t have much time and I can’t explain to the council that I’m here so we have to get rid of the body.”
An hour later, they had him wrapped in a blanket and were busy hauling him through a tunnel that existed behind a secret door in Ciardis’s room. The man was big, and carrying him was putting a strain on both women.
“Some stairs are coming up,” said Stephanie as they wedged around a corner.
Ciardis gritted her teeth as she lifted his feet while Stephanie angled his upper body, taking most of the weight, as they went up the stairs. Luckily it was just a few steps, and then they were in a different tunnel.
“About five feet to the right there’s a hole,” Stephanie said.
“A hole large enough to drop a body?” Ciardis questioned.
“It’s the trash chute that goes direct to the underground sewer, so yes.”
As they knelt down and awkwardly shifted the body around to drop him in head first, Ciardis had to wonder what her life had come to. From laundress to Companions’ Guild trainee to accomplice in a murder who couldn’t talk about the murder in case the assassin’s master wanted to take another shot at her. Meanwhile, Stephanie searched the dead man’s vest. She was methodical, looking for anything that would link him to the duke. In his inner pocket she found just what she needed: a bronze crow pin. The duke’s symbol, and worth its weight in gold.
“I have what I need to prove the duke ordered the man to kill you,” Stephanie said.
“Why would he be carrying that?” said Ciardis.
“I suspect because he never thought you’d catch him.”
“And the Duke? Once his man fails to return he’ll find a way to pin this on me or send another assassin.” Bitterly Ciardis spoke, “I’m not sure which would be preferable. Accussations of murder or another attempt.”
“With this pin I can make sure the Duke knows that we know about him. He won’t try again,” Stephanie said cryptically.
“Fair enough, as long as I’m not indicted for this crime.”
Stephanie nodded. She didn’t want to be accused of a crime, either.
Together they pushed the man over the side.
As they walked back in silence through the tunnels, Ciardis thought of the past. For a long time the only life she had known was the vale—the day-to-day drudgery of being a laundress and the hope of marrying well. She almost felt as if she’d left that life too soon. She had come into the courts eager to succeed, eager to show that she belonged. Now she was dumping bodies in holes, ducking arrows and breaking up assassination plots. In many ways she was worse than those at the courts she had initially sought to emulate.
“Wake up, airhead,” said Stephanie, “We’re back.”
And so they were. Opening the door into Ciardis’s room, they walked in to silence. The room looked normal except for the glaive and crossbow resting on the bed. And the pool of blood on the marble floor.
“We need to clean up the blood,” said Stephanie, looking around for cloth.
Ciardis was already on her way to the bathroom. “I’ve got it.” She returned with a bucket filled with lemon water and sanitizer as well as some rags. Stooping down, she started wiping to get every drop of red.
*****
Sitting down on the bed, Stephanie watched as the young woman bent over the floor. Ciardis wasn’t saying a word. Stephanie was wondering if she was in shock or perhaps planning. Either way, she hoped the pretty hair and the soft nightgown hid a young woman who could do more than speak and dance well.
The Shadow Council needed people who could do more, people with talents, people with the strength to make a difference, and those willing to sacrifice for the common good. Ciardis had shown that she had two of those three qualities. But her performance needed a lot more polishing.
“Where have you been?” said Ciardis, not looking up. The blood had already turned the bucket water red, though there were still spots to clean up. She didn’t see Stephanie watching her as she finished cleaning off the crossbolt that Stephanie had removed from the dead man’s chest with a handkerchief from Ciardis’s nightstand.
“Away,” the woman said. “Training.”
“With whom?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“And you evade all of my answers,” said Ciardis pointedly.
She put the clean crossbolt back into the bow and primed it to fire. “Not unintentionally.”
Ciardis dropped the last rag in the bucket and raised an irritated eyebrow.“Look, you come in here criticizing the way I handle things—”
“And saved your life.”
“And want me to do things your way,” Ciardis continued without pause. “But you won’t tell me what the way is or how you knew about the duke’s man.”
Standing up, Stephanie tossed her an irritated look. “The duke’s man was obvious—the Duke of Cinnis hasn’t been subtle in his loathing of you ever since you revealed that he cheated on his wife.”
“Why does everyone focus on that?” Ciardis said, her temper rising, “He was trying to assassinate Sebastian, but does anyone mention that? No! It’s always, ‘Oh, that evil Ciardis, she exposed him in bed with another woman.’”
Stephanie snorted. “You’ve got a lot to learn. Scandal always trumps murder. The only thing better is if it’s a scandalous murder.”
Heading over to the door, Stephanie said, “Let’s go; I’ve got something to show you.”
Biting her tongue, Ciardis put away the cleaning supplies, changed her clothes, and put the glaive back in its corner. On her way past the nightstand, she grabbed a small dagger and a wrist sheath to hold it. With one last look at her bedroom, she followed Stephanie out. They left the palace through a side entrance and went across the bridge to the nobility’s quarters.
It was the quarter that S
tephanie had moved to after being inducted as a full Companion and receiving a Patron. As they walked through the tree-lined streets, Ciardis expected them to go into one of the beautiful mansions. But as they ducked in and out of side rows, cut across lawns, and finally ended up in the artisan’s district, she had more concerns about where they were going than why.
“Where are you taking—”
Stephanie held up a silencing hand. She ducked behind another building into an alley filthier than the last. Ciardis had no choice but to follow. Not if she wanted answers. As they raced up the back stairs of a derelict building Ciardis caught glimpses of soldiers spreading out through a crowd in the market square. A man was giving them directions and groups were peeling off to go down different streets. They were looking for someone.
For me? she thought in a panic. Do they know about the dead assassin? How could they know?
Stephanie opened the door to a room. Well, “opened” was a nice way to put it; she had to kick in the door after the latch caught on something. “Damn piece of junk,” she murmured as they went inside. Ciardis took in the dust, the cobwebs, and the mothballed sheets covering everything with distaste. It was an artist’s studio long abandoned. Wood easels leaned on the walls and half-finished paintings covered in cobwebs stood in testament to an artist long gone. Ciardis hiked up her new sleeves to ensure none of the dirt got on the long, trailing fabric. There was nothing she could do about the bottom of her skirt except pray.
Closing the door and facing Ciardis, Stephanie asked, “What do you want to be, Ciardis?”
This sounded familiar. “A great Companion—”
Stephanie waved her hand. “No bullshit.”
“I wish you’d stop interrupting me,” Ciardis snapped.
“Look—”
“No,” Ciardis said, standing up straight. Her eyes turned steely as she propped her hands firmly on her waist, trailing fabric forgotten in the heat of the moment. “I’ve had just about enough of this. I was nearly murdered this morning. I’m being targeted and I want to know how to fix it.”
Stephanie waited a moment to see if her tirade had finished. “Fix it?” she said dryly while trailing a finger through dust that had been gathering on a cabinet top for at least a year.
“You can’t fix it,” Stephanie continued, “What you can do is control it...with help. The problem is your powers. You try to help Prince Sebastian and somehow your magical interference ends up spilling over to enhance more than you intended.”
A knock interrupted their conversation, echoing in the room. It sounded like it was coming from behind the wall. Stephanie walked over and opened up a panel in the back of the room.
Out walked a young man with blue eyes, black hair, and a radiant smile.
“Took you long enough,” he said jovially while dusting off his pants.
Stephanie rolled her eyes and examined her fingernails for dirt. She was studiously avoiding his gaze. There was something going there. Ciardis could feel it. The man cleared his throat, looked over at Ciardis, and introduced himself as Christian Somner.
“Well, Christian, are you in on this, too?” Ciardis said.
“In on what?” he said with a polite grin.
“This shadow organization that wants to make me not me.”
Before Stephanie could interrupt, Christian said, “The Shadow Council doesn’t want to change you; we want to mold you.”
Ciardis grinned, triumphant; she had just gotten him to reveal the group. Stephanie slapped him on the back of the head. “You idiot! She wasn’t supposed to know the name.”
He looked over, miffed. “But she said...”
“I was fishing,” Ciardis admitted smugly.
He rolled his eyes. “Well, now that you know the name. What do you truly know about what we are?”
“Nothing,” she admitted.
“Exactly,” he said with his own triumphant eye roll at Stephanie.
She didn’t let go of the glare plastered on her face. “You started this. Why don’t you go right on ahead and finish it?” Let him stick his foot in the stink. She wasn’t going to be in trouble when the Shadow Council heard about it.
Ciardis eyed them both warily. She’d never heard of the Shadow Council. Who were they? What were their goals? Were they a threat to Sebastian or an ally? She knew that today she would find out something about them but the lingering question remained: would it be enough to trust them? To trust Stephanie? The woman had been an excellent fighter during her years as a Companion trainee, but the Companions’ Guild didn’t prepare you to kill someone or dispose of the body. And yet she’d done both without blinking an eye. Not to mention this weird and stealthy way she had about going through the city streets. What did she have to hide?
Besides Companions were skilled, but they weren’t that skilled.
“The Shadow Council is an elite organization of mages created to protect the realm. We recruit the most talented individuals across the land for missions and assignments to ensure that the stability and peace of as well as the security of the empire is always assured,” Christian explained.
Ciardis raised her eyebrows at the rather lofty goals of his Shadow Council.
“Isn’t it the gardis and military’s role to protect the realm? To ensure peace?”
“It is,” he said. “But the gardis’s primary role as the guardians of the realm are to police the city and countryside to ensure general peace. And the military is fighting the battle in the North and has been for quite a while. In the end they cannot do so alone. We have the power and the strength to assure that things are dealt with quickly and secretly.”
Secretly? Ciardis was uneasy about this. They sounded more like an assassin’s league than a council.
“How would you go about that?”
He wagged his finger in rebuke. “I think that’s enough about the Shadow Council for now. Just know that we are on your side.”
“Don’t lie to her,” interjected Stephanie.
He corrected, “Or, rather, Stephanie and I are on your side.”
With a frown, he continued, “There are some in the organization who would prefer you dead.”
“I only just heard about the duke’s plans to kill you this morning,” said Stephanie. “The Council has known about it for days.”
“Is that why you came?” questioned Ciardis. “You went against them to save me?”
Stephanie said softly, “No, sweetheart, we’re here because they decided to give you a second chance. Change your ways, or next time the Shadow Council will be the one to put a contract out on you.”
Chapter 7
Stephanie was kind enough to escort Ciardis back to the gates of the Companions’ Guild. As they parted ways and Stephanie began to walk away, she turned back and quickly reached into her pocket for something. Pushing it into Ciardis’s hand, she said, “Flick this open if you need me in an emergency. And you will need me. Until then, see you around.” And then she was gone.
Unfortunately, just because Ciardis had a death sentence hanging over her head didn’t mean she could shirk her duties. Lady Vana and Lady Serena were waiting in the outer solar room for her. When she arrived, more bedraggled than usual, it raised eyebrows. But thankfully no one aside from Terris, Lady Vana’s Companion trainee and Ciardis’s best friend, was concerned enough to question her about it.
“What happened to you? Did you fall into a ditch again?” asked Terris with frank appraisal while their sponsors set up the afternoon’s activities on the other side of the garden.
“No,” said Ciardis, pouting. “That only happened once.”
“And it’s a day that no one will ever forget,” Terris said with a giggle as she swung a friendly arm about her friend’s shoulders. “The Incident,” as Ciardis liked to refer to it in private, would have been hilarious and something they could have whispered over into the night—if it had happened to someone else.
She had been riding with the Imperial hunting party on a chilly day as the
y scouted for boar. The meat from the animal was a nice delicacy that would be on the dinner table that cold night. Riding with the party she’d been ambitious and hoped to be noticed for talents beyond her magical abilities – like her graceful riding skills. Which was why she’d chosen to ride sidesaddle. But even a slow pace turned out to be more difficult than she imagined.
Unfortunately that day she’d gotten excited, kneed her mare into a canter, and gone tumbling into the bushes in full view of the Imperial party. She had been humiliated and, what was worse, she’d spooked the mare so badly that it had refused to let her mount back up. She’d ridden double with a kind knight the whole way back to the palace, her face flaming.
Ciardis waved her hand impatiently to dispel the embarrassing memories.
“What are we in for today?” she said in exasperation.
The darker skinned girl shrugged. “I’m not sure, but Vana and Serena are excited about it.”
Lady Vana called out, “Girls, girls, come over here!”
As they walked toward her, they saw that servants had set out a tall object with a cloth hanging over it. As they walked Ciardis noted with admiration that Terris had woven beautiful beads into her thick black hair which clanked together with her every step. Ciardis tried to ask her how her Patron Hunt was going, she knew that Terris had narrowed her choice down to two candidates, but didn’t have enough time. When they reached the two sponsors, Vana pulled off the cloth to reveal a full-length mirror.
“Today we’re going to work on presentation and illusion,” said Serena. “You both will soon be presented to court and before the Companions Council as the Companion of an esteemed Patron. Terris, I’ve been told that you’ve yet to decide on your Patron. Is that correct?”
Terris nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I believe it’s an important decision and I’d like to take some more time to get to know my suitors.”
