by E. L. Todd
Aleco identified the guildsmen who passed by him. When their glances met, the men’s widened in surprise, and Aleco knew they recognized him. Aleco spotted one man in particular—Devry. As he exited the Weapons Shop, Devry gazed at a shiny battle axe in his hand and descended the creaking stairs with a smile on his face. He was playing with his new toy when he looked up and saw Aleco. He stopped in his tracks and watched the guildsmen advance Aleco, hands clasped behind his back and without his legendary sword, towards the Chamber, the residence of the Chief. Devry shook his head in disapproval.
They entered the stone doors of the Chamber. The stone beneath their boots was replaced by mahogany red marble, which blended with the orange reflection of the flames from the ignited torches. It gave the impression that the tile below their feet was on fire. The clap of their heels resounded with every step. The sound amplified against the tile floor and matching marble walls. The tower was silent with the exception of the occasional crack from the dancing flames of the torches and the sound of their falling feet. The silence of the building always put Aleco to sleep.
They strolled through the entryway and into the hallway. They passed dozens of honey-colored doors until they reached the end of the tunnel, where a single golden door faced them. One of the guards knocked on the heavy wood, the sound echoing through the hallway.
The Chief slid the edge of his dagger across his open palm, a habit he adopted when in thought. The point of the blade glided across his rough and calloused skin. The dancing flames from the hearth were reflected in the pristine metal, and the flames licked the dagger like a desiccated branch of firewood. He could see the fire pop in the mirrored metal. Pons informed the Chief of the recapture of Aleco the evening before, and the Chief had been pondering the situation endlessly. The Chief’s mind was always clear when he held a weapon in his grasp.
Aleco had returned to the hideaway. The Chief instructed his guildsmen to return Aleco, but had never expected it to happen. He trained Aleco himself, and he knew how formidable he was. If that man didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. So why did he let himself be taken?
The Chief sighed. Pons had explained the situation. Aleco was found in their woods with the woman they were contracted to find, but had no apparent intention of returning her. In fact, he defended her. His actions made no sense and the confusion was causing a headache to build behind his eyes. The Chief never extended mercy to any Brother who violated their oath, never blinked as his guildsmen were pushed over the cliff to their deaths, and never gave them comfort in their last moments—but Aleco was different. He had a personal investiture with this man. For the first time, he wanted to extend his nonexistent mercy and pardon Aleco of his crime—the desertion of his people, an unforgivable act.
But how could he? The dismissal of that crime alone was unacceptable, and now this? Aleco killed two of his men in the woods and stole the woman for his own personal gain. It was obvious Aleco was the enemy to their cause and the Chief couldn’t convince the guildsmen otherwise. The Chief sighed again—he had no choice.
Aleco had been irreplaceable within their organization. His fighting skills surpassed all others. His knowledge of horticulture was extremely useful, and his intellect was unparalleled by almost everyone. Aleco had fetched more gold, killed more men, and diverted more disasters than anyone in the guild. The Chief hated to see him go.
Pons watched the Chief slide the blade across his open palm while he was lost in thought. Silently, he stood by the door and waited for further instruction. He anticipated what those orders would be and waited for the Chief to announce Aleco’s execution. The final end to Aleco made him smile. With Aleco’s permanent annihilation, Pons would retain his rank in the guild as the First Elite Ranger, directly under the Chief himself, a position Aleco previously held. But Pons wouldn’t stop there; one day he would get what he wanted. The tap on the door interrupted his fantasy. The Chief placed the dagger on his desk and nodded to Pons. He opened the door and let them enter.
The guards shoved Aleco through the entryway and marched him into the colossal room. “Release him,” Pons instructed the men. They dropped their grips and disappeared into the hallway. Pons beckoned Aleco to move deeper into the room. With his hands still bound behind his back, he entered the heart of the chamber and stopped before a chestnut-colored desk. Pons shoved him forward.
The room was identical to the rest of the tower. A massive fire stood to his right, rising skyward at his entrance as the air from the open doorway fed the hostility of the flames. It mirrored Aleco’s own mood. He wanted to finish this as quickly as possible. He stared at the Chief, who matched his gaze with equal intensity, but said nothing. Aleco could feel the disappointment in his heated look.
The Chief rose and walked to the front of his desk. He leaned against the wood with his arms crossed over his wide chest. Thick pricks of gray stubble covered his wrinkled mouth and long chin, matching the mature color of his fringe. His moustache was timeless and still produced the black hair he saw in his youth. Even with a hunched frame, his height surpassed Aleco’s height of six feet. Silently, he appraised Aleco with pitch black eyes, a very unusual color for any human. He was exactly the way Aleco remembered him, quiet and brooding with the ability to snap instantly. The Chief was known for his blank countenance, his mind could never be read with such a look of indifference. Aleco waited for him to speak. It was custom within their society to only speak to the Chief if he addressed you first and you could only refer to him by his title. A stupid tradition to Aleco. Most guildsmen had no knowledge of his true name.
“Cut his bonds,” the Chief directed Pons without looking at him. His eyes remained glued to Aleco’s. Pons hesitated for a moment before he cut the rope. “Go ahead,” he said, squeezing the hilt of his blade. “He’ll be dead before he can blink.”
Aleco’s released hands fell to his sides and he nodded in gratitude. Aleco had no intention of attacking the Chief, an opponent he knew he couldn’t overpower. The man’s voice struck Aleco with familiarity; the baritone sound resonated as a recognized song. It was the voice of an old friend. “You know why you are here, Aleco.” He withdrew the midnight blue blade from the scabbard. The stones shined in the hilt of the sword and reflected the light of the blazing fire. It was a hypnotic picture.
Aleco’s eyes glanced at the elegant blade, unique in its color. “Yes, and let me shorten this visit. My punishment will be execution by the Death Chasm,” he said. “This, I already know.”
The Chief stared at him and sheathed his blade. He realized intimidation was useless with this man. The Chief knew Aleco was injured under his cloak. He could tell by the droop of his shoulders and his haggard breathing. The Chief looked at Pons, knowing he was responsible for the beating.
“Now let me go,” Aleco said. He had only a few hours of life left and he didn’t want to spend them there.
“All men fear their inevitable deaths,” the Chief said as he circled him. The tap of his heavy boots echoed in the room. “You are no different, Aleco. I do admire your unflinching bravery, however, or at least this façade.”
Aleco waited to be dismissed. He had nothing more to say to this man, no defense and no arguments. He already accepted his fate. The loud crack of the flames disturbed the silence. The Chief continued to circle him. His body turned into a silhouette as he passed the hearth and the light of the blaze outlined him in shadow. The Chief walked in silence, waiting for Aleco to speak.
“I deserve to die,” Aleco said.
“Is this remorse for what you did to us?” the Chief asked with interest.
“Hardly,” he said. “It is remorse for what I did for you.”
The Chief recognized the acceptance in Aleco’s expression, a look of acknowledgment of his own inevitable death. That was a feeling the Chief could never fathom because he loved living far too much. The flinch of Aleco’s hands and the tension in his shoulders told the Chief what he was feeling—that he wanted this to end.
&n
bsp; “Let’s cut to the point,” the Chief said. “Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Aleco eyed him suspiciously. “Which is?”
“I want answers.”
“To what?” he asked.
The Chief stopped directly before him. He rubbed his chin with his fingertips as he organized his thoughts. “You betrayed your oath to the guild—”
Aleco rolled his eyes. How many times was he going to hear this?
“A crime you knew would kill you eventually,” he said. “You abandoned your Brothers and chose a life of exile.”
Aleco sighed in annoyance. He left the guild years ago; it was time to move on.
“Tell me why, Aleco.” Aleco remained silent, and the Chief continued. “The guild sheltered you, protected you, and made you into the fearsome warrior you have become. After all I’ve done, you still turn your back in disrespect,” he said. “I want to know why.”
When Aleco asked the Chief to assist him in his mission to assassinate the duke, his formidable brother, and aid in his vengeance, the Chief denied his request but never explained why. The Chief, although arrogant, possessed a keen intelligence. Aleco knew he could answer his own questions; however, he wanted Aleco to admit it. “You know why,” he spat. “I told you what my sole purpose was.”
The Chief nodded. He knew of Aleco’s attempts to thwart his brother, including his last effort when he entered the keep and was almost killed with a mortal stab to the chest. The Chief had no idea how he escaped that one. “And how did that work out?” Aleco looked away, ashamed of his failure and the Chief’s knowledge of it. “A mission I knew was doomed to fail from the beginning.” He sighed. “I refused to aid your vendetta because I knew how futile it was. I never knew how personally you would take that rejection.”
Aleco felt the adrenaline course through his limbs. He wished he still possessed his three-bladed throwing dagger. He imagined the hilt protruding from the Chief’s throat, a thin slit in the skin that released a waterfall of blood. He had trusted this man enough to reveal his true identity and his ultimate goal. The Chief promised that Aleco had the entire support of both himself and the Guild at his disposal, and it was just a matter of finding the time to strike. Aleco waited for the day to come, but it never did.
“Aleco, you came to the guild with one purpose—to become a killer,” he said. “I knew this from the moment we met. Of every apprentice I’ve ever had, you were the most gifted because you wanted it, needed it, more than anyone else.” He grabbed Aleco by the shoulder and shook him slightly. “But, I knew when the moment came to stab him through the heart, your anger would falter, and you would lose the will.” He released his hold. “Face it. You’re soft, Aleco.”
Aleco said nothing. The words he wanted to say would warrant his execution on the spot. He wanted to see Accacia once more so he kept his mouth shut and forced back the explosion of threats. Aleco knew the real reason the Chief had refused his request was because the duke was a substantial reservoir of gold. Who knows how accommodating his successor would be to their cause? The duke relied on the guild for their aid in information, slavery transports, and even assassinations of others rulers of the Continent, making him a valuable client to the Chief. Instead of fulfilling his promise to Aleco, he chose to betray him and protect the duke from his vengeance. The Chief was no Brother to Aleco.
Aleco heard the sound of the door behind him. A guard entered the Vast and approached the Chief, whispering intangible words into his ear. The Chief nodded his understanding as the guard continued to whisper. “Thank you,” the Chief said. “You may go.”
The guard exited through the doorway.
Aleco was the target of his signature black gaze and he wondered what the guard had said. Aleco wanted to carve his dark eyes out with the hilt of his dagger. Someday, he hoped he would get the chance. When Aleco fled from Letumian, he had stumbled into the hands of the guildsmen within Aequor Forest, and they escorted him to the hideaway with the intention of keeping him as a slave. The Chief made different plans for him. Aleco respected the Chief and even admired him through the years. He exhibited such strength and masculinity, the depiction of the ideal man that Aleco wanted to become. The Chief recognized within Aleco the same ferocity he possessed and chose to train Aleco himself. It was a decision the others were unhappy with, particularly Pons. Aleco rose to prominence and quickly escalated to an Elite Ranger, a rank only a handful ever reached.
The Chief sheltered Aleco’s identity from the other guildsmen at Aleco’s insistence. He told the Chief he had valuable information about Drake that the guild could use to their advantage. The Chief agreed to keep his identity a secret in exchange for this information and allowed him to remain hooded and cloaked at all times so he wouldn’t be recognized. The guildsmen were suspicious of this behavior, but after a few years, no one deemed it unusual. The Chief protected him and continued to do so.
As the Chief reflected on Aleco’s atrocious behavior, in addition to new the information he received, his calm front disappeared and his anger shined through. His face contorted in a scowl as he squeezed his fingers into clenched fists. He stared at Aleco. “You murdered two of my men,” he hissed. “Decapitated one and split the skull of the other, both treasonous acts.”
Aleco met his fury. “Your men sliced her throat and forced her to the ground with her legs spread! They gave me no choice.” Aleco advanced to the Chief. Pons pulled his sword from the scabbard, preparing for an attack. “The duke specified she was to remain unpillaged, and your men broke that rule. Drake would have your head for that,” he said. “I did you a favor.”
“The punishment of the men is my responsibility,” he responded. “Not yours, Aleco.” He grabbed Aleco by the throat and pushed him back.
“As if you didn’t already tamper with the goods, Aleco,” Pons said from the corner. He sheathed his blade when he saw Aleco step back. “What were you doing with her anyway? Other than lying about what she was to you.”
The Chief looked at him quizzically.
“Aleco claimed she was his sister,” Pons explained.
“And what is she really?” the Chief asked.
Aleco met his gaze. “Nothing,” he said.
The Chief appraised the features he had known for years. Aleco was a man who never lied and told the brutal truth fearlessly, but the lines around his face and the look in his eyes were novel to him—he was lying. “If you planned to return her alone and hoard the coin, why would you risk traveling through our woods?” The Chief stroked his chin with his fingertips. “Those are slim odds for a man who never gambles.” The Chief returned to circling him like a shark, searching for the best cut of muscle before the deadly bite. “What say you, Aleco?”
Aleco said nothing. He could think of no possible answer but the truth.
“She wanted to be found, didn’t she, Aleco?” the Chief asked.
Aleco raised his eyebrow. How did he know that?
“She wanted to find us, didn’t she?” he continued.
“No.”
“Do not lie to me, Aleco.” The Chief dropped his hands to his sides but the fire still blazed in his eyes. “She came here to spare you from execution. By handing herself over, she thought she could ensure your safety, a wasted effort. What a touching gesture.” The Chief looped around him once more before stopping in front of him. “But you wanted to stop her, rescue her from her fate, didn’t you?”
“How do you know this?” He suspected it had something to do with the guard who whispered in his ear moments ago. Accacia must have been interrogated in his absence.
The Chief smiled into his face. “Is this love, Aleco?” he said with a smile. “So you did tamper with the goods.”
Aleco said nothing.
“Every crime you have committed is punishable by death, Aleco.”
“So be it, Nolan,” he said.
The Chief blinked at the sound of his name. Aleco had addressed him by his true name on a regular ba
sis before he had abandoned the guild. He had always done so in private, and the Chief allowed the exchange because he considered Aleco a friend and an equal. The sound brought back the sense of camaraderie and trust he had not felt since Aleco’s departure.
The Chief studied his face. He was impressed by his resilience in the face of impending death. His expression was calm even though he was about to enter the void, ceasing to exist forever. It was a fate that kept the Chief up late into the night, pondering the inevitable death of his soul for eternity. That Aleco could be unafraid surprised him. He couldn’t help but respect Aleco, in spite of his defiance. Any other man would beg for pardon on his knees. Or, he was just a better liar than the Chief gave him credit for. Either way, the death of Aleco would be a waste. The Chief made his decision. “You stand before me as two possible men. One that will die or one that will be reborn. I suggest you choose the latter,” he said. “I cannot deny the usefulness of your abilities and intelligence. I’ve had no better ranger than you. Because of this fact, I have something to offer you.”
Aleco already knew his response to the proposition. Pons shifted his weight in the corner and his eyes widened at the Chief’s words. He prayed forgiveness was not on its way because it would complicate his plans.
“Rejoin the guild and your sins will be vindicated, forgotten. You will resume your responsibilities and be reestablished as a Brother,” he said. “We have discovered something astounding. Even you, Aleco, would appreciate its worth, and you can become part of this amazing find. I suggest you accept my generous offer.”
