by Troy Reaves
Boremac scrubbed and rose out of the water with haste. Jasmine stood almost stoically at the bank watching him. Her arms were crossed over her breasts in a minor effort to cover the effect he had on her. Jasmine drew deep breaths in rhythm with every motion as he moved out of and away from the stream. She enjoyed seeing him rise naked from the stream every time, the only time she allowed him to make such a display of himself, as his taunt muscles broke through the water. Boremac flexed for her benefit. He was not against using theatrics to his advantage, and these rare opportunities assured she would eventually allow him to know her. It was only logical that temptations of the flesh could only be strengthened by displays of the same, especially when his flesh was so tempting.’Yes, I will break you, Jasmine.’ Boremac thought as he dressed, not bothering to hide the grin that accompanied the thought.
“It seems only fair that I should reward the favor you have shared tonight, Jasmine. I have just the drink and a perfect place to do that, if you will allow me.”
“You know all too well Boremac that it is not going to happen. You are very predictable in some areas. So much so that I have brought us drink, and the grass out here will serve fine as an inn. Wine is good enough for tonight. I have no desire to engage in bitter alcohol drinking with you this evening. What is on your mind? You seem distracted more than usual. Your arrival does not appear to have been a surprise and, yet, your attention is somewhere else entirely. Should I feel wounded?”
“You know me too well. I am called by circumstance, and caused a great deal of irritation, by being forced to reacquaint myself with an old friend. A young man of some importance where I came from has forcibly inserted himself into my dealings. He also stoically refuses to die and, damn me, I respect him for that. I need your help teaching him another lesson. He will be here some time tomorrow looking for me, no doubt in a fury at his treatment due to my machinations. I need you to bring him to me. I leave it up to you how to do so, but I doubt it will be much effort for you, flower.” Boremac moved a hand to her cheek, using an errant hair as an excuse to draw his fingers toward her neck before she intercepted them. Jasmine placed his hand on his own knee and he continued. “His name is Rinoba and his manner will be arrogant. Good looking with fierce eyes, this young man carries himself like a lord, which he thinks he is, after a fashion at least. He is the Prince of thieves, the only son of the Master of the largest Guild in the local cities. He is on a journey to prove his worth to his father. I do not envy him the task. His own ego’s demands are going to require some trophy well beyond his own abilities to obtain.”
“So that is where you come in, I suppose. Master thief and conniver called upon to bring glory to the whelp? The thought that you are going along with this at all makes it interesting enough for me to help. I am in.” The deal between them was sealed with a clink of the glasses she had supplied for the wine. The drinking got started in earnest and Boremac thought tonight things might go differently than they had in the past. He was wrong, although laughter and stories were shared equally, and once more he enjoyed her as he always did.
34
Old Alliance
Rinoba was putting his practiced hands to good use when Jasmine spotted him in the throngs of people in the center of the city. Boremac had been accurate in his brief description of the man. He moved about, standing tall, challenging the few Ardature in the crowd for the rarified air over other human’s heads, and taking more than his due. She watched as he relieved visitors and tradesmen equally of purses with slight movements only another thief would notice. Somewhere he had acquired a leather satchel that he had slung over his shoulder, depositing his ill-gotten gains with the same grace and slight movements he used to acquire them. Jasmine had to smile knowingly as a new money pouch quietly joined the others. She puzzled briefly over the best way to approach him. The way Rinoba separated himself from the press of the crowd made her think the direct path would be suspect. She need not have worried. Rinoba was aware of her seeking eyes long before she was able to find him. He had seen her the moment she entered the area, and knew more about her than Boremac did from his first glance.
Jasmine was not sure what happened next even upon later reflection. One moment the young gentleman was there and the next he had disappeared right before her eyes. “Ah, the future Lady is puzzled. You have underestimated your prey.” Rinoba’s voice quietly touching her left ear made her jump as she turned to meet the face of the speaker. Their eyes locked and she was lost in the depths of his immediately. It took a moment for her to break the hold of his gaze. He grinned like a fox, sly and mischievous, as she colored with his words. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. It will give me great pleasure to know Boremac has been so completely deceived by one so fair. Allow me.” Rinoba dipped his head with the same conservation of movement he practiced in his thievery to lightly kiss the back of her hand. “I am Rinoba, but you already know that, and you are far from home. A maiden of some powerful house slumming for her own distraction. Very interesting. I would assume that Boremac had intended you to be a good trap for me. What man could not be lured by you? Very interesting indeed. I hope you will show him some kindness when you inevitably break him, but I think that we both know that is not going to happen. How sad.” Rinoba did not bother to hide his delight at the thought of the future pain Boremac would experience at this woman’s hand. The wily smile morphed into an wide grin as he finished speaking.
***
Rinoba and Jasmine arrived at Boremac’s room a bit later than he had expected. He knew Rinoba would be easily spotted among the hired blades of Verson and was certain Jasmine would have had no trouble finding him. Boremac was just starting to think something had gone wrong and fearing for her when they did. He had risen from his chair and moved halfway across the room wanting to go make sure she was okay when it opened.
He did not care for his concern for her, especially the way it clung to his mind, when he had made a point of distancing himself from almost everyone. There were exceptions, of course. He smiled thinking about the Gang and the drunken ranger who protected the forest they all called home. He tended to gravitate toward looking out for the odd ones, now that he bothered to think about it. There were urchins in all the cities he spent any time in that he allowed to make his purse lighter, while snatching practiced pickpockets up by their necks when they bothered him. He knew well enough from his own youth that picking a thief off the ground in a crowd pretty much dissuaded the others, and word traveled fast among thieves.
When Rinoba and Jasmine did enter, Boremac sensed a thick tension that could have been cut. His first thought was that there was probably some cutting due on Rinoba, but Jasmine’s smile disarmed him as always. He found it strange that Jasmine allowed herself to be dismissed by Rinoba so readily, thinking she would have wanted to stay to see what game was afoot. Jasmine had a pronounced love of intrigue and drama. That Rinoba’s few words ushered her out the door troubled Boremac, verifying there was reason for his concern, though it was a selfish concern for certain. “Jasmine, I believe your part in this charade is done. It has been my great pleasure to make your acquaintance, and I do hope our next meeting will be as pleasant.” That was all Rinoba said, and Jasmine had left with only a slight nod of acknowledgement.’Yes,’ Boremac thought,’very troubling.’
Rinoba turned to Boremac, giving him time enough to adopt a neutral face. Boremac assumed this was the intended purpose when he saw the open smile Rinoba wore as the two men’s eyes met. Boremac could not extinguish the fire behind his own eyes and noted that Rinoba’s icy aquamarine eyes gave no hint of his thoughts. The calm there was disturbing.
Rinoba produced a parchment from the folds of his leathers and spoke before Boremac could even greet him. “This will be our final adventure, Boremac, in one way or another, I believe. Retrieval of this Ardature and the fame that will come with it should be all that I require of you.” He handed the bounty sheet over to Boremac for his perusal as he continued speaking. “He is
worth quite a bit of coin. You can keep it. I only require the treasures he carries for proof of the bounty and presentation to my father but do not think I have suddenly become generous and forgiving. You will probably be killed during the hunt for him.” Rinoba stated the last words so matter of fact that Boremac almost shuddered. Rinoba paused to let their seriousness sink in and then continued. “The rare trophies this renegade trades are much more valuable than the bounty for his capture.”
Boremac had to agree. The Ardature pictured in the drawing had been captured on the page in such a way that conveyed this predator was not one to be taken lightly. It detailed his trade in body parts from the creatures in the Great Forest, as well as his slaying of many trained hunters that had gone after him which included a team of what the broadsheet called “Elite Enforcers” from the Forest itself. Boremac could already see this “adventure” going very badly, but he found he was intrigued by the challenge. No longer having Rinoba at his back would be a blessing, even if it meant some amount of risk, and Boremac’s slippery mind was already developing ways to minimize that. It was very good at just that thing.
Boremac held his hand up, as much to silence Rinoba as acknowledge his acceptance. “If we are going to do this, and I am not sure that we can, then you have to swear in blood that you will follow my directions to the letter no matter what and without question.” Boremac knew that, despite the perception of those outside the thieves’ guild of the lack of honor among thieves, there was one universal code no thief broke. Blood bonds were entered into for a specific, most often mutually beneficial, purpose, and held both parties to the agreement until its completion or death. Death, interestingly enough, resulted as often as completion, which was why the bond was so rarely used at all. If a blood bond was broken, the one responsible was ousted from their guild, if they had membership, and marked for death by all thieves’ guilds. No mean feat considering the lack of diplomacy between the groups that were constantly vying for more area to ply their trade. The rare bounties these markings produced were highly profitable and assured that hired blades sought the transgressor with economy, knowing that one wanted dead was easier to deliver than one needed alive.
Rinoba’s response mildly surprised Boremac. He put out his right hand lightly gripping the middle of the blade of a long ornate finely honed dagger. “Done.” Boremac extended his own right hand to grip Rinoba’s blade and hand, each of the men tightening on it to make the cut simultaneously.
“Good.” Boremac began outlining the plan for their pursuit, much to Rinoba’s dismay. It was Boremac’s turn to smile as he related the idea his mind had already managed put together and he was thoroughly enjoying the chance to once more educate the rogue before him.
35
Mixed Messages
There was one closely guarded method of communication in the realm that was held more secret than any other. The ‘thieves’ cant’, comprised of ever changing hand gestures and mixed phrases to convey important information, was as old as thievery itself. The Guild Masters met to make the alterations as necessary, and often changed all the ‘language’ to suit them. They wove in old and new in different ways to confuse the interloper that might use the cant. Although Boremac was a freelance thief, he paid into the guilds where he plied his chosen trade and was kept well informed because of it. Any independent thief could perhaps survive, but soon enough they all realized that to succeed they all had to show respect to the Guilds. A beating or two from local members was usually all it took. Guilds recognized the need for good earners, even independents, and rarely resorted to putting the rogues out of business. The most successful mercenary groups often contained a well-connected thief in their number. It just made good business.
Boremac saw the thieves’ network as the best means to his end in finding the trophy Rinoba desperately wanted. Of course, Boremac knew that the predator they hunted would be well informed of the new threat, just as he had been when tracked by others. The usual methods of finding a target would prove the death of Boremac and Rinoba… literally. There was no honor among thieves and this individual could pay well to stay on top of his pursuers. Gold was power among thieves, it was just that simple. There was another network that had no need of coin and would be all too happy to help find this Ardature. The rangers spread throughout the forests of the lands had a very different code, of which this predator was in direct violation. Boremac had friends among the guardians of the wood, mostly because of the company he provided them when he needed to lay low for a bit. He found rather quickly that although not all the guardians were as committed to imbibing as the ranger who guarded the wood the Gang called home, most of them enjoyed strong drink now and again. It was by combining the rangers’ knowledge and the turncoat nature of his own Brotherhood that Boremac managed to get the Ardature right where he was now.
Rinoba had spread word while gathering information among the thieves that he was assembling a team that would kill the Ardature once and for all. He was verbose in his description of the pleasure he would take presenting the head of the rogue hunter to his kind and collecting the reward. Boremac surmised correctly that the predator they sought could not let such a brazen threat go unanswered. Boremac had recruited two seasoned veteran bounty hunters whose egos almost matched Rinoba’s, making sure they openly presented themselves in the tavern they frequented in Verson. Rinoba pronounced them suitable to his endeavor. He quickly declined the offered aid of any others, saying no more would be needed, and he had no desire to share out the promised reward with dead weight. Boremac made certain to distance himself from the proceedings, knowing Rinoba would do well just by being himself at setting the trap. Of course, Boremac had chosen not to tell Rinoba that the arrogant young man was to be the bait. Boremac had once heard that pride went before one’s undoing, and in this instance he was moved to agree wholeheartedly. Rinoba made no secret of the forest in which he would await the hunter of rare creatures, and said he would even go so far as to allow the coward to choose the time of their encounter. Night or day, he went on, mattered not at all to him. Boremac almost felt bad for setting Rinoba up so completely… almost.
36
Predator Prey
“Hey, Bent bow! Come out into the clearing and face me, coward! It appears your well placed shots cannot strike me!” Several arrows were imbedded deeply in the trees at the edge of the copse where Rinoba shouted into the black of night. Even Rinoba had been impressed with the skill and rapid launching of each missile that had scratched his ears before lodging deeply into a nearby tree. The flights could not be tracked with his eyes, and it was obvious the hunter was teasing him as yet another slight thunk broke bark near him. He had given up trying to track the source. The bowman was just too fast, judging from how the arrows seemed to come from everywhere at once. That was Boremac’s and the mercenaries’ job.
Boremac, for his part unfortunately, had found the bodies of the two mercenaries already neatly dispatched. They were each hanging from a tree where they must have spotted the predator and been killed without raising an alarm. He took a moment to marvel at the efficiency of their death blows when he had seen the arrows angling upward from a shot that must have been made from a crouch, neatly breaking their necks without so much as rattling their weapons, now gripped in death and while their arms dangled loosely by their sides. Boremac, for his part, was glad he had chosen this wooded area that let him take advantage of the canopy for moving about through the limbs. Leathers were definitely better suited to tracking this prey than the plated chain the dead men had worn, though the Ardature had so far eluded him. ‘No matter, I guess.’ Boremac thought. ‘The Predator will come to play with the prey soon enough, hopefully running out of arrows before he does. The clash of these two egos might even be interesting to hear.’ Moments after Boremac’s internal monologue, the hunter appeared with an arrow nocked at the edge of the tree line at Rinoba’s back just waiting for his prey to turn toward him. Rinoba turned, casually, to his credit, considering the P
redator’s demonstrated skill, and he faced the archer without even a hint of concern.
“I have to wonder how many arrows you have remaining. Is that the last? Do you think that will be enough? I would prefer to cross blades, but as you wish.” Rinoba looked away from the archer, glancing to either side of him ever so slightly, as if in anticipation. His challenger answered the unspoken query with a cruel smile.
“Your hired blades have already felt the sting of my bow, as you will momentarily. I grace you with looking into the face of your slayer. None have been so bold in seeking me, or so incredibly foolish. I thought it would be interesting to speak with someone so arrogant before they were put down.” The Predator’s voice had that same odd light lilt to it that marked his people, bordering on the edge of singing even when threatening. It made his words all the more striking. “You are correct. Only one arrow remains so I will allow you the honor of choosing where it strikes you. It will penetrate your thick skull precisely to provide near painless instant death or I can strike at the heart of you so that you can curse me as you bleed out. I have to admit, I am not certain which you might choose. A coward’s quick death does not appear to suit you.”
“I think you overestimate my arrogance and take my brazen call as a lack of planning. What would you say if I told you that even as we speak, one of your own kind is targeting you? They speak of the honorable capture, your kind, and your return to the wood where you were born. When you are ready to fire on me, will you be ready to dodge their shot at the same time? You are fast, but are you that fast?” Rinoba smiled, adding weight to the bluff. “Perhaps you should lay your bow down and hope for mercy from your kin. You will receive none from me… if I reach you first. I only hope the Ardature at your back will allow us to cross blades first. It saddens me that this rare opportunity might be lost due to a misplaced thought of grace where you are concerned.”
