Erosan's Tears

by Jason Scott Gleason

  “From what I hear, Karduk’s doing a good job of framing you for this. You’d better keep your eyes in the shadows, make sure whoever you have working for you doesn’t think it’s in their best interests to betray you.”

  Astal smiled, the same rakish grin Raelyn had seen a million times. “Oh, I’m pretty sure none of my men will betray me.” There was an enigma in that statement. He thought of Drial, who had given him the note from Astal. Does he know who you are? he thought. Then all of a sudden he remembered the meeting at Lord Perinor’s estate.

  “I just thought of something. If Rennard and Karduk are working to destabilize the city and try to grab power for themselves, they still need a killer. Someone who can pose as Gray, right?”

  Astal nodded. “Yes.”

  “Lord Rennard and Fethan were both at the meeting we had at Lord Perinor’s, but at one point I looked around and noticed both of them missing. I thought that was pretty odd, since Rennard usually hovers over everyone at these things and Fethan would need to be there for Lord Elotarn. Rennard came back after a while, and Fethan showed up a few minutes later. They didn’t exchange any glances after that, but it was almost as if they were making a point not to look at each other.”

  “That’s interesting,” Astal said. He had that old familiar gleam in his eye, the one he had when he was about to find out something new. “Fethan may be working with Lord Rennard? What else? I can tell you haven’t told me the whole story.”

  Should I tell him about Trevan? he asked himself. My own student, the son of one of my best friends. Could he really be involved in this? I’ve already let one of Perinor’s sons die. What will happen to Perinor if I implicate the other in a conspiracy? He was torn.

  Astal looked at him quizzically. “You’re hiding something, slialne,” he said. He waited a moment, looked closely at his friend. Raelyn was still at a loss of what to say. “Regardless of what I said earlier, you can trust me.”

  Raelyn nodded. “I know. It’s just, it might be nothing.” He groped for a moment, trying to think of how to say it. “At about the same time Rennard and Fethan went missing, Trevan also disappeared.”

  “Trevan? You mean Perinor’s son?” Astal looked genuinely perplexed.

  “Yeah, that one,” Raelyn replied. His heart felt heavy. “Only he never came back. It might be nothing, totally unrelated. Trevan isn’t a lord or a member of the Chamber, and he hasn’t been involved in this investigation. It’s possible he wasn’t there for the meeting to begin with. But it’s been nagging me ever since that night. On one hand, the idea that he’d be working with Rennard, who everyone knows has dirty hands, seems crazy; but every time I try to dismiss it, my gut tells me not to.”

  Astal thought about it for a moment. “Might be something, might be nothing. He does live there, after all, but I wouldn’t discount anything at this point, especially if your gut tells you not to.”

  Raelyn nodded. “Just do me a favor,” he said. “Don’t say anything about him to anyone. If any of this ends up coming out, I don’t want him to be found guilty by association. You know how Corlwyn can be.”

  “Oh, yes,” Astal agreed. “I know how Corlwyn can be.”

  “Another thing,” Raelyn added. “When all of this started, Fethan gave me letters bearing Lord Elotarn’s mark, effectively making me his officer. He wanted to make sure that I got the help I needed to investigate this. But he also gave me some coin, and said his lord appreciated my discretion. I didn’t think that was too odd, given how likely I was to dig up dirt on any number of powerful people in the city, but it was a lot of money.”

  “How much?” Astal asked.

  “Five suns,” Raelyn replied. Astal whistled. “I know, I probably should have been suspicious then, but I had heard rumors of Lord Elotarn’s generosity. I figured that’s all there was to it. Now I’m not sure.”

  “That is a lot of coin,” Astal said. “Enough to buy most men’s loyalty. Especially if there’s a hint that there’s more where that came from.”

  “I know. That’s what worries me. Lord Elotarn might think he has me in his pocket. On the other hand, ever since our meeting at Perinor’s I’ve started to think that the money didn’t come from Elotarn at all. Would Fethan do anything without Lord Elotarn’s blessing? Is it possible that Fethan’s working on his own?”

  “More than possible,” Astal replied. “There’s something off about Fethan. He works towards his own devices, and I’m not sure how much of that is Elotarn’s idea. He’s enigmatic, even for a Slovani. Let me ask you this: from what you’ve seen, do you think Elotarn would work with Rennard? Do they get along well?”

  “Not remotely. I don’t think Lord Elotarn likes Lord Rennard at all. Lord Elotarn has no criminal contacts, has no problem with the Coscans, believes in moderate policies, and is from an aristocratic family. He’s basically the polar opposite of Lord Rennard, and they fight over nearly every measure brought before the High Lords. When they hold court they almost always disagree.” Raelyn thought about it for a moment. “In fact, if you were to ask me which two lords were least likely to agree on anything, I’d name those two.”

  “So we can assume that they’re not co-conspirators in anything. If Rennard and Fethan were off meeting with one another, it probably wasn’t Elotarn’s idea.”

  “Unless Elotarn was using Fethan to set Rennard up,” Raelyn said with a wry smile.

  Astal grinned. “Now you’re starting to think like a criminal!”

  Raelyn chuckled. “Starting to think like you, am I? That ought to scare you. After all, I am in the First High Lord’s debt, and you’re the most wanted criminal in the city!”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, slialne, but it would take a lot more than a touch of paranoia to make you start thinking like me. For all the years Gray has been in this city, you never once considered it might be me. I’m not too worried about you being one step ahead of me. Besides, if you were going to turn me in, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”Astal’s grin disappeared. “But do you think it’s likely that Fethan is working under Elotarn’s orders, or do you think he’s going it alone?”

  Raelyn considered it for a moment. “No, I don’t think Lord Elotarn is behind this. What does he have to gain by this? If what you say is true, after all this is over Karduk will have even more influence over the underworld, and Rennard with him. The city’s coffers will be drained, and the lords of the city will have to pay the Divisions, as well as pay for the reconstruction of the city. As First High Lord, the greatest burden will fall on Lord Elotarn.” He shook his head. “Worst yet, Lord Elotarn will have no idea that the man he trusts most to run his household and manage his affairs is in league with his biggest political rival.”

  “And might be the very same killer he’s hired you to track down,” Astal added.

  Raelyn nodded. “That makes sense. A Slovani, with a Slovani blade, and with access to the best information and resources an assassin could want. Whether or not he wields the blade, I’m pretty sure he’s behind it.”

  “He’s certainly behind something,” Astal responded. “What that something is remains to be seen. There’s still a lot more to be figured out before we know exactly what is going on. We can’t afford to just jump to conclusions like Corlwyn. You’ve seen the kind of damage that does.”

  “Right,” said Raelyn. He thought about Fethan for a moment. “Come to think of it, can Fethan even use a blade? Whoever killed Aertis knew what he was doing. One strike through the heart, in the dark. This was someone who has killed before, and knows how to do it professionally. The other attacks were the same.”

  “I’m not sure. I don’t know much about Fethan, other than what everyone knows. House Restol trains seneschals, not assassins, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been trained by another house, or that he’s actually House Restol to begin with.”

  “Wait a second,” Raelyn interrupted. “What do you mean, ‘House Restol’? I thought Restol was his family name. Aren’t he and
Drian cousins or something?”

  Astal looked at Raelyn for a second, then shook his head. “Sometimes I almost forget you’re not Slovani,” he said absently. Then, “Yes, they are family names, but the families aren’t necessarily related by blood. Think of it more like a guild. People marry into and out of families, depending on what they do. It’s more complicated than that, but that should give you a basic idea of how it works.”

  “So is House Crian the house that trains master thieves?” Raelyn quipped.

  Astal shook his head. “No, House Crian is full of merchants. There is no ‘house of thieves’ in Mitigol.”

  “Are you sure it’s not called ‘House Mitigol’?”

  Astal laughed at this. “Don’t give us that much credit! As much as I’d like to think we’re all that clever, the Slovani are a lot like the Oervan. The only difference is that the only Slovani you find in Galavan’s Port are among the most talented and ambitious from each house. You don’t make it out here unless you have a lot going for you, so I’m sure most Slovani you know are among the best and the brightest.”

  “Don’t be so modest, Astal,” Raelyn said with a smile. Astal started to object, when Genevar burst through the door, a look of panic on her face.

  “Out, out now!” she said, panting. “Karduk’s men… coming up the stairs!”

  Raelyn ran to the door, slamming it closed, and grabbed a chair to prop against it. He turned and saw Astal headed toward the balcony.

  “Come on!” Astal shouted. Someone slammed into the door and the back of the chair cracked with the impact.

  “Go! I’ll hold them off and protect Genevar! There’s no way she’d make it down the side of the building, and you can’t afford to get caught!” Someone slammed into the door again, and Raelyn put his shoulder against it.

  Astal nodded. “I’ll find you soon,” he said, and then he was gone.

  Someone slammed into the door a third time, and Raelyn could hear yelling in the hallway outside.

  “I can’t hold this forever,” Raelyn growled. He looked over at Genevar. “Do you have a way out of here?”

  Genevar shook her head. He was used to seeing her calm, in control. She looked scared and overwhelmed. She was holding a small knife in both hands, her knuckles white.

  “Put the knife down. It won’t do you any good.” Raelyn’s teeth rattled as someone slammed into the door again. “Get in the corner. Don’t move unless I tell you. If someone comes at you, run into your room and hide under your bed.” They slammed into the door again, and something started to give. “Whatever you do, don’t try to stab them—they’ll stab back. Do you understand?”

  Genevar had backed into the corner of the room. She was nodding.

  “Good,” Raelyn said, and steeled himself. He waited for someone to crash into the door again, and then sprang back, drawing Tempest. The fine steel seemed to come alive in his hand. He dropped into a crouch, his feet and hands wide, and waited for the onslaught.

  The door flew open with a crunch and a slam, and a behemoth of a man came staggering through, leading with his shoulder. Raelyn sidestepped him and took him in the throat with the point of his sword. Two more men followed, swords drawn. Raelyn dodged to his left and slapped the next man’s sword out of the way, then stabbed him in the back, between the ribs and into the lung.

  He could see a fourth man in the hall, a crossbow leveled into the room. “Shoot him!” the final swordsman shouted, panic in his eyes. Raelyn kicked what remained of the door, and it swung back into the doorway. He heard a thunk as the crossbow bolt hit the wood panel, and he advanced rapidly on the terrified swordsman, stepping over his fallen comrade. He parried the sword to the side, cutting into the man’s wrist and sliding Tempest down into the inside of the man’s thigh. The man dropped his sword and collapsed in shock, blood pumping furiously from his leg.

  Raelyn turned to the door and flung it open, charging through the doorway. The fourth man was still trying to cock his crossbow, and looked up in surprise as Raelyn stabbed him through the heart. He didn’t even have the chance to raise his hands in defense.

  After a quick glance down the hall, Raelyn stepped back into the room. The large man had stopped breathing and the second was unconscious, a faint bubbling sound coming from his lung. The third man was sitting against the wall, white as a sheet, his eyes looking up in uncomprehending horror. “Who sent you?” asked Raelyn. His voice was flat.

  “Please,” the man begged in a whisper, “I have a daughter.” His mouth started to work again, but no sound came out.

  “Who sent you?” Raelyn asked again, leveling the sword at the man’s throat.

  “Altorin,” he whispered. His breath was starting to get shallow. “Trevan Altorin.”

  Raelyn nodded his head. “Thank you. Make your last prayers to your gods. I will tell Trevan that your last words and thoughts were of your daughter.”

  “Please,” the man begged again, “I don’t want to die. Not now. Not yet.” There was desperation in his eyes.

  Raelyn looked down at the man’s leg. He was sitting in a pool of blood, although not all of it was his. The sword had neatly severed the artery, cut nearly to the bone. He looked up into the man’s eyes. “You’re already dead, friend. All you can do now is pray to Aletharin for absolution.”

  The man closed his eyes, his lips moved silently. Raelyn turned to Genevar. She was huddled in the corner, looking at Raelyn in horror.

  “Come with me. We don’t have much time.” She made no move to stand, so Raelyn crossed the room to her and bent down, looking her in the eyes. “Genevar?” he asked.

  Genevar looked at him and seemed to remember herself. She stood, but she was shaking. “You need to come with me before more men come. They could be after either of us, and it wouldn’t be good if one of us was caught.” She nodded. “Is there some way we can get out of here without attracting attention, some secret passage or something?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Only the one to the song house, but everyone knows about that one. Those men came through that way.”

  “Then we’ll go out the front door. We need to hurry.” He took her right hand in his left and started to walk through the room, but felt her pull back. He looked back at her. She was staring at the blood.

  Raelyn tried to see what she saw. Blood had pooled on the floor, soaked through the rug in the middle of the floor, sprayed on the far wall. The bubbling sound had stopped from the second man he had stabbed, and the man with the leg wound stared with glassy eyes, unseeing. He looked down at Genevar’s feet, and saw that she was one step away from standing in a pool of blood. She’s not a soldier, not a killer. She’s horrified by this. He looked at her and noticed that, miraculously, not a single drop of blood had hit her. Aside from the terror in her eyes, she still looked immaculate.

  He switched his grip on his sword and stepped around to Genevar’s side. “Milady?” he asked, extending his hands, and gently lifted her into his arms, carrying her like a child across the floor and past the body in the hall. Her arms locked around his neck and she buried her face into his shoulder, as if she could close her eyes and make this all go away.

  “You killed those men,” she said, her voice small.

  “I promised to protect you,” he said softly. She seemed to relax in his arms. “But now I have to set you down. You’re going to have to follow me, no matter what. You can’t stop, or slow down. Do you understand?” He felt her head nod in the crook of his shoulder. He set her down gently.

  Raelyn switched his grip on his sword again and wiped the bottoms of his boots on the runner in the hallway, getting the worst of the blood off of them. He looked at Genevar and saw confidence returning to her eyes. He nodded to her and she nodded back. They started down the stairs, Raelyn in the lead.

  They were about half way down the stairs when they heard a crash, followed by shouting. Raelyn flattened himself against the wall, his left hand going back reflexively to push Genevar back as well
. They heard men’s voices, then Ourette’s voice telling them that “Raelyn and the mistress” were still upstairs, and to hurry. Ourette. That’s how they knew. He silently vowed to make sure Ourette paid for her betrayal.

  “Ourette?” Genevar asked, surprise and anger in her voice. Raelyn glanced back for a moment, but there was no time to talk.

  Raelyn glanced over the banister and saw five men running up the stairs towards them. One saw him and shouted, and the three in the back raised crossbows. He dodged back, out of the line of sight.

  “Up!” he snapped at Genevar, and they ran up to the third floor landing. Raelyn snatched up the heavy oak end table at the top of the steps and slid his arm through the rails on the legs. It was heavier than a target shield, and smaller, but it was solid wood and better than nothing. He looked at Genevar. “Stay in that corner until I tell you.” She pushed herself into it, nodding her head.

  He turned around, saw a door, and kicked it in, hiding in the doorframe. Peering around the corner, Raelyn saw the group coming up the staircase to the third floor. Right before they got to the top, Raelyn leapt from the doorway and charged, screaming.

  With the makeshift shield he slapped one man’s blade out of the way as he kicked the man in the chest, sending him tumbling down the stairs. At the same time he lashed Tempest out to his right, feeling it bite flesh in the other swordsman, and then whipped the shield back up as the archers fired. One bolt hit the table, and the other two went wide. He smashed the edge of the table into the mouth of the swordsman, and the man fell unmoving against the wall.

  Raelyn bounded down the stairs in three steps, slashing one of the archers in the throat as he came down. The man he had kicked down the stairs was getting up, his sword still in his hand, and the other two crossbowmen were drawing short swords. The swordsman had the look of an accomplished killer, and was backing up on the landing to buy some time. Raelyn screamed again as he charged.