by Adam Watson
“Guild, you idiot! What guild do you work for?” If this man didn’t start giving answers soon, he was going to let black steel do the talking.
“I’m just the clerk! I don’t know anything!” Aiden took a deep breath - he was angry now, he raised his fist in the air.
“ONE … LAST … CHANCE!!”
“I’M JUST THE CLERK! I’M JUST THE CLERK!” Through the rage, through the fury, the words sunk into Aiden's mind ... 'I'm just the clerk!' That's right, this was just the clerk. Why was he dealing with this underling when he could be dealing with the boss? Aiden let the man go, and he slumped back into the upturned chair.
"Who's in charge around here?" he asked.
"That would be me," answered a voice behind them. Aiden quickly spun around to see who was there. Before him stood a well-dressed man with a cane and a hat.
“Who are you?" Aiden asked suspiciously.
“I am Hestor Berson, part owner of this establishment.” Aiden snarled.
“And who is the other owner of this establishment?”
“Preston Berson, my son.” The man took a step forward. “Come now young man, tell me what the meaning of this is? Why have you burst in here causing such a ruckus?”
“That homeless man out there,” said Aiden, pointing out of the window. “The one lying in a pool of his own blood … he sent me here.” Hestor raised an eyebrow at the statement.
“Ah … you must mean the Preacher. Yes, I thought it only a matter of time before someone came to quieten him. I’m only surprised it took this long.” Time to call your bluff old man. Let’s see what you give me.
“He told me that he works for you.” This time both of Hestor's eyebrows rose up in surprise.
“He told you that?”
“Yesss.” Aiden eyes were wide and manic. “He told me that.”
“But why would he tell you that?” Hestor seemed genuinely confused, and Aiden suddenly began to think that maybe the Preacher didn’t work for him after all. “I hate the man. I’m actually glad you came here and put a stop to his incessant nattering.” Are you telling me the truth old man? You better be telling me the truth.
“What guild do you work for?” Hestor took a deep breath.
“Look behind you.” Aiden spun around and there on the wall above the doorway, a picture of a sun - it’s rays as dark as night. “We’re Black Suns through and through here. Always have been, always will be.” Aiden couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How could he be so wrong? He was so sure the Preacher had given away his masters. Aiden was about to apologise to Hestor when the door at the back of the room opened.
“Preston?” exclaimed Hestor, as his son walked into the room.
“That’s enough, Father. It’s time for you to go upstairs.”
“But …”
“Go Father, now! I’ll deal with our little intruder.” Hestor nodded, he didn’t look like he agreed with his sons approach one hundred percent, but it also looked like he wasn’t about to argue with his son either. Instead, he turned around and walked through the door leading upstairs.
“So, you must be Preston,” said Aiden, stating the blatantly obvious.
“Stop!” commanded Preston, interrupting the conversation. “I know why you’re here and I know who you work for.” This revelation intrigued Aiden, for how could he possibly know either of those two things?
“You have no idea who I am,’ stated Aiden, trying to call his bluff.
“Oh, but I do. You work for the Black Suns. Your handiwork is written all over the poor little Preacher out there.”
“Your Father said you were with the Black Suns.” Preston simply smiled.
“My father is an old man, he is losing his mind. He is holding on to a world that is falling apart. The Black Suns grew a great oak once, but it is rotting from the inside out. Now you’re just dead wood that needs to be cut down.” Aiden looked to his hand, the black steel felt cool upon his skin. This man had the key, this man had the information he needed - this man could tell him which guild was trying to take over the harbour.
“Which guild do you work for then?” The man smiled and then even let out a little laugh.
“Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? Let’s just say you’re not going to live long enough to find out.” The black steel was cool and ready to lash out. Aiden looked around. He, Preston and the clerk were still the only ones in the room. Preston was overweight and slow, if he couldn’t take him out alone, then he needed to quit the guild immediately and go back to boar hunting, and as for the clerk - he was still flat on his back in an upturned chair. Aiden sniggered madly.
“You’re going to kill me?” he laughed. “Just try it.” Preston just shook his head from side to side.
“Not me … them,” he answered, pointing to the doorway. By the gods, Aiden thought. Whilst he had been busy talking to the Bersons; Senior and Junior, a small gathering had been accumulating outside the building, a gathering that was armed with weapons. Aiden knew that if he walked out that door, the crowd would tear him apart.
Amidst the throng and making his way to the front of the crowd was the bloody-robed Preacher. He stumbled and fumbled his way to the front. Aiden winced, the man looked a mess. Teeth were missing, his nose broken and bloody, his hair was matted and caked with dry blood.
“Oh, you thought you had ended me, didn’t you, Black Sun?!” Aiden knew immediately that this confrontation wasn’t going to end pleasantly. “But guess what? … You haven’t.” He looks pissed.
“You don’t look well,” answered Aiden, calling through the doorway. “You should lay down.”
“What? You think this is funny?!” screamed the Preacher. “You think that THIS is funny?!” he continued, motioning to his bloody face.
“Only slightly amusing!” Aiden thought he could almost see the Preacher mouth the words ‘You fucking little prick.’
"Get in there!" screamed the Preacher, pushing those around him forward. "Get in there and kill that little bastard!" The crowd surged forward to rush the door. Aiden only had moments to react as he watched the crowd come for him. They were screaming and yelling for blood - his blood.
In an instant, he assessed the situation. He thought he could take down the man at the front of the crowd ... and the man behind him. Perhaps he could even take the man out standing behind the second one, but there was no way he could take them all out - even with black steel lacing his fist. There was only one choice left - he had to make a run for it.
He turned to run, but Preston was right there reaching out to stop him. Two flashes of black steel put Preston to the ground. Aiden looked down as he watched the plump man wriggle and writhe.
He had been so close, another minute and he could have beat the answers out of him. This man, this steaming pile of horse dung, this fetid doglover had been collaborating with another guild to undermine the Black Suns and, Aiden suspected, without his father’s knowledge.
Now he was right there, within Aiden's grasp, within striking distance, on the ground, a helpless jellyfish and when the black steel brought him the pain, he would have told Aiden everything. So close.
Aiden looked up, some of the crowd were making their way into the building. He looked back down at Preston. I'll have to come back for you. He stood up, and using the clerk’s stomach as a springboard, he vaulted the desk and ran through the door to the stairs.
Up the stairs he ran - two, three at a time. On the second floor was a corridor with six rooms leading from it. Running past the first four, he went into the fifth. Shutting the door behind him he quickly looked for a way out, but when he turned, he realised that there was a figure standing in the room with him.
“Hestor?” The old man backed away.
“D-Don’t hurt me,” he whimpered.
“Your son,” said Aiden, pointing an accusing finger directly at Hestor. “… has forsaken the Black Suns.” Hestor cast his eyes to the floor and nodded solemnly as if finally admitting to himself something that he h
ad feared, but dared not believe.
“I was afraid that was the case.” Hestor seemed ashamed of the fact. “If you’re looking for a way out, you’ll have to go through the window.” Aiden quickly ran to the window.
“Thanks.” Hestor simply nodded back as a reply. Then Aiden turned to jump out of the window, but before he did, he turned back to Hestor one last time. “Hestor,” he said, and the old man turned to look at him. “There’s going to be retribution, you know that, don’t you?” The old man nodded back solemnly. “Go for a holiday old man, get away from this place. The old man nodded again. Aiden could hear the commotion outside in the corridor, the door opened, and he jumped.
He landed hard on the ground, the fall was much longer than he had anticipated. He limped across to the other side of the road and looked back. There were people looking out of the window and looking at him, but no-one was willing to follow him down. Suddenly the people at the window were being pushed out of the way, and the Preacher looked down at Aiden, but he too was unwilling to make the long jump down.
“The Black Suns are finished you hear me!” he shouted, pointing at Aiden and spraying blood into the air on every word.
“We’ll see!” Aiden yelled back. Through the window, he could see people already backing out. He knew that they were going to try and run down the stairs to get him, but he walked into the passing crowd that led further into the city and was long gone before anyone made it down to the street - and for that the Preacher cursed him.
***
Later, when night had fallen, Aiden sat watching the building of Berson and Sons from afar. He contemplated the day’s events. Overall, he thought that he had done all right. He achieved the prime objective in letting the people at the docks know that the Black Suns were still very much active in the area. Turning the Preacher into a bloody pulp so publicly had achieved that, but still, he was troubled at the same time.
Berson and Sons seemed to be breaking away from the Black Suns and were openly encouraging others to do the same. Aiden still didn’t know which guild they were aligned with and he had little chance of finding out now, they would be on guard and they all knew who he was now - there was no chance of him getting close.
Aiden thought about it. Yes, what he had done to the Preacher had sent a message to the community, but it wasn’t enough. He had to send a bigger message, a message no-one would forget, and he had told Blanko as much when they had finally regrouped. Those Berson dogs thought that they had beaten him, they thought they had seen him off; they probably even thought that they had seen the last of him. Not quite. He had one more ace up his sleeve.
Aiden smiled, oh yes, he had an ace up his sleeve all right. After the commotion with the Preacher, some of the sailors at the dock had recognised Blanko as a member of the Black Suns. They had approached him and told him that they had found a product called Balor’s Fire from a far off land, a land they refused to name, but they said that Balor’s fire could be found in only one place in the world. It turned out that the Bersons were now aligned with a guild called the Blue Dragons.
These sailors didn’t like the Blue Dragons, but they did like the Black Suns. Blanko introduced Aiden to the sailors, they shared drinks and had a merry time. Out into the streets they walked, drunk and the best of friends. Aiden told them of the Blue Dragons plans to overtake the Black Suns. He told them the Blue Dragons were evil, he told them the Blue Dragons wanted to hold the city to ransom by destroying the trade in the port from the inside out - the sailors were most upset. Aiden told them that he needed to send a message to the Blue Dragons, a message that they would never forget. The sailors agreed and offered to help.
Under the cover of darkness, they drunkenly unloaded the barrel of Balor’s fire and rolled it into the sea. They had jumped in with it and floated it to the other side of the docks. When they were close to Berson and Sons they had disappeared beneath the wharf. They had been gone for some time now. In fact, they had been gone so long, Aiden was starting to get worried.
“We have to be patient,” commented Blanko, sensing Aiden’s trepidation.
“I just want this to work, Blanko. There’s a lot riding on the success of this mission.” That’s how Aiden had started to see things now - as a mission. He had a goal, he had something he needed to do, and he wasn’t going to be happy until he had achieved it. “What’s taking them so long?”
Suddenly Aiden could hear a commotion. Two men, and he was sure they were the two sailors, were being chased across the docks towards the water. A slight smile came over Aiden’s face. The sailors were running for their lives, but they weren’t running from those men. The sailors ran to the edge of the dock and dived straight into the water, not even slowing down one bit. The men behind them did slow down and even stopped at the docks edge - that caution cost them their lives.
A tremendous explosion ripped through the building, instantly engulfing it in flames and sending fragments of broken timber out in all directions. The two men chasing the sailors were both mown down and smothered in flames at the same time.
Even as far away as Aiden was, the explosion had caused such a loud boom that both him and Blanko had jumped, their hearts now pounded in their chests. Aiden had never seen anything like it. The fires lit up the night skies, the glow shone on their faces.
“I think we got our point across,” remarked Blanko. It was almost as if he couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed, he was in awe. Aiden nodded his head in agreement.
“It’s a message they won’t forget.” Suddenly Aiden started laughing. Blanko looked at him puzzled, but Aiden couldn’t stop. He was just so happy. Everything had turned out all right. He had turned the Preacher into a bloody pulp in front of a huge crowd of people. He had found out who the rival guild was, and now he had sent an even bigger message to his enemies - that the Black Suns would not tolerate other guilds trying to overtake them, and that there would be terrible consequences if they did.
This was a great day. Mortello was going to be so pleased to hear of such success. He had ended the Blue Dragons before they had even begun. He even pat Blanko on the back, he was that happy, but little did Aiden know - this was not the end … it was only the beginning.
25. SISTERS OF SOLACE: THE CAPTURE
The look on Justina's face made her look beautiful. She looked happy, it was a joyous day, her new masters had been pleased with her, and in a way Justina’s face really was beautiful.
Her eyes were wide and blue, like frosted ice. Her narrow brows gave a feminine look; both pretty and delicate. Her cheeks looked slightly battered now, but were normally as soft and as smooth as silk. Her chin narrowed to a sensuous point.
Yes, she could be considered beautiful and was by many, but now she could also be considered dead. Her throat was slit, blood poured from the wound. Splattering down her dress, it dripped onto the ground. The drops hissed and sizzled as her body burned – a scarlet pool forming as she swayed in the breeze.
Justina had been useful to the Sisters once, but that time had passed. She had taken them as far as she could, now she had become a hindrance. The Sisters needed to get inside of the guard-filled walls, it was going to be hard - even with the powers gifted to them by Solace.
Without the stealth of a Sister, Justina would have attracted attention from the first, but neither could they let her go. She knew too much about them, she knew some of their secrets. Nobody escaped with that knowledge, that was the rule, and it was a rule that no Sister would dare to break - a certain level of ruthlessness was expected.
The Sisters had set her body on fire as a distraction. In the darkness of the night the flames drew the guards away as they went to inspect what was happening. As soon as the guards had moved far enough from the front entrance, first Volantia, then Calista and then Solitaire, slipped from the shadows, behind the distracted guards, through the entrance and into the wall itself, where they promptly disappeared back into the shadows without anyone noticing.
They snuck
through the corridors, always staying in the shadows, and avoiding any soldiers making their way to the front gates. Their footsteps silently padding their way across the stone floor, their huntress cloaks flowing like magic to the forms and positions of their bodies.
The cloaks seemed to be an extension of their bodies and seemed to act of their own accord; helping them balance, helping them to conceal, but however they moved, however they acted, they were always silent.
The Sister's moved slowly through the shadows, taking their time, being careful not to be spotted. The guards weren't as alert as they could be; the stone walls around them made them feel safe, the soldiers close by made them relax. They felt a false sense of security, the Sisters used that to their advantage.
Volantia as always took the lead. She was eldest and most experienced of the three and had been in a leadership role for a long time. Even so, the weight of her responsibility to lead the other two to victory often weighed heavily upon her. Not only did she have to lead them, but she had to make sure neither of them got killed nor exposed unnecessarily and then, perhaps even more importantly, she had to gain favour with Solace, not only for herself but for the others as well. That was the greatest weight of all. Volantia signalled to the others, someone was coming and there was nowhere to hide.
***
Dorian and Manny were new recruits amongst the soldiers of the wall. Meaning that they had joined the army’s ranks after the taking of the city by the Creed. Even though they were considered to be new, they had fought enough battles in the city to behave like veterans. Outside these walls they would be on guard and alert as attack could come from any direction at any time, but within these walls, with so many other soldiers nearby, they were much more relaxed.
They walked through the corridors talking about different things - what they did on the last trip inside the walls, what they used to do before they were soldiers, but most of all they liked to talk about what they were going to do once they could leave Candelier City.
