by Cadman, Dean
“Okay, I'll ask again. Where did you get that horse?”
“Go to hell … AARGH!” he screamed again, as his little finger fell from his hand to join the rest of his blood on the floor. Moving his dagger to the next finger, Skelly once again applied a little pressure.
“Wrong answer. But, I guess you have nineteen more attempts to get it right. Where did you get the horse?” Skelly asked again. This time his question was met only with a stony silence, until he let out another scream, as a second finger hit the floor. Skelly was genuinely impressed by the horse-trader's guts—but that wouldn't save him if he didn't talk. Again, Skelly moved on to the the next finger, and asked his question once more.
“Where did you get the horse?”
Whimpering through the pain, he heard the man say something.
“Louder, I can't hear you. Or I'll cut off another one.”
“A GIRL!” the man screamed.
“That's better. Now we're getting somewhere. What was her name?”
“I DON'T KNOW!” screamed the man, panicking that he was about to lose another finger.
“Okay, I'm not unreasonable. I understand you probably didn't know her name, but give me a description,” Skelly said, ever so slightly moving the dagger that still pinned the man's hand to the fence, causing him to cry out in pain again.
Panting through the pain, he managed to say, “She was young … maybe sixteen … blonde hair … about my height. PLEASE! That’s all I know … I need two hands to work … PLEASE!” he pleaded.
“That’s good. But how am I to find someone in Helveel with only that information to go on? You need to give me something else to work with. Or I could simply remove another of your fingers to jog your memory,” Skelly said coldly.
“NO! PLEASE! I … I … don't know anything else,” the man begged.
“Okay, have it your way.”
“NO WAIT! I remember something.”
“Funny how pain jogs the memory isn't it,” Skelly replied, grinning at Carter, who by this point was looking quite pale. “Go ahead, I'm listening.”
“The girl … after she sold me … the horse … she asked me … which was the … best thieves' guild … here in Helveel … I told..her … to try the … Ravens' guild—AARGH!”
Skelly removed the knife from the man's hand—and faster than anyone should be able to move—grabbed the back of the man's head, and placed it where his hand had been only a moment before. Holding a dagger to the man's eye, he said in a stone cold voice, “If you're lying to me, I'll come back and kill you—and it won’t be fast. Do you understand?”
“YES!” the man screamed in absolute terror. Skelly let go of him and he collapsed into heap on the floor, clutching his mutilated hand to his chest, and crying like a child, as Skelly and Carter turned and calmly walked away.
It wasn't hard to find the headquarters of the Ravens' guild. It seemed almost everyone knew where it was located, and they soon arrived at the unassuming looking building. Two burly men stood guard outside the entrance, and as Skelly and Carter approached, they both removed weapons from their belts.
“Calm down lads. We're not here to cause you any trouble,” Skelly reassured them, holding up his open hands to show he wasn't carrying any weapons.
“You've got no business here. Move along, before you get hurt,” one of the guards said menacingly.
“I need to speak with whoever's in charge of your recruiting here at the Ravens' guild,” Skelly replied, not backing down.
“Well, he doesn't want to speak with you,” the other man said laughing, as if what he had just said was the funniest thing he had ever come up with. Skelly wasn't amused, and the look in his eyes when he stared at the men, left them in no doubt either. Both men stopped laughing almost immediately, as the tension in the air rose rapidly; one false move, and everyone knew blood would be spilt.
Not looking half as confident as they had when Skelly and Carter had arrived, the first man said, “I can ask Tyray if he wants to speak with you, but he's going to ask what you want, and who you are?”
“What I want is none of your business. As for who I am, tell him I'm a fellow thief from Stelgad looking for a little professional courtesy,” Skelly replied, with a forced smile that hid none of his contempt towards the two men.
One of the two men whispered something in the ear of the other, before saying, “Wait here. I'll ask him if he wants to see you.” Then he opened the door and disappeared through it, closing it firmly behind him. Several minutes passed before the door reopened, and the man who had taken the message reappeared, followed by eight other men. None of the men looked friendly, but Skelly had no doubt he could end them all without breaking a sweat if he had to. One of the men stepped forward, eyeing them both up and down, before saying, “My name is Tyray. I believe you wish to speak with me?”
“My name's Skelly. Thanks for taking the time to come and talk with me, I appreciate it.”
“How can I help you Skelly?” Tyray asked calmly, as his men spread out all around him in a semi-circle, ready for any trouble that may arise.
“I'm looking for a girl …” Skelly started to say.
“Aren't we all?” Laughed one on the guards at the door.
Tyray turned sharply to look at the man, who visibly withered under his gaze, then he turned back to Skelly and said, “Sorry. Please continue. A girl?”
“Yes. A blonde girl, around sixteen years of age and average height. I believe she approached you a few months ago to join your guild. She is wanted by our guild for the theft of guild property. Any information you have would be well appreciated.” Skelly knew that every thieves' guild viewed the theft of its own property, by one of its own members, as the highest crime possible. Having an organization comprised solely of thieves, had to have the strictest possible consequences for anyone caught stealing from its own members. Usually it meant a death sentence without trial, and if this girl had gained employment here at the Ravens' guild, she would be ejected without question to face the accusing guild's justice. To do otherwise would risk a possible guild war, and the complete breakdown of thieves' justice within their organizations.
Skelly saw the glint of recognition in Tyray's eyes as he gave the description of the girl, but said nothing. He could see Tyray carefully working out the possibilities, and ramifications of the situation before responding.
“I have seen the girl you're describing. She came here like you say a few months ago, but she was refused entry to the Ravens' guild. I knew nothing of her, and thought she might be a spy, sent by a rival guild. I'm sure you understand.”
“Of course. Can you tell me where she is now?”
“What makes you think I would know where she is now?”
“Because, if you really thought she was a spy like you say, you would have had her followed for a while, to see if she reported back to another guild, and killed her if she had.”
“And how do you know I would do that?”
“Because that's what I would have done,” Skelly replied.
Tyray laughed, while nodding his head, “I see you're no 'wet behind the ears' recruit Skelly. Yes, I did have her followed for over a week. Smart girl that one. She never approached another guild during that time. She was seen sleeping rough on the streets each night, and often visited the main gates each morning, like all the street kids do, to look for work. Last time she was seen, she was wearing a brown tunic and green trousers if that helps.”
“Sir,” one of the men addressed Tyray.Tyray looked at him and bobbed his head for him to speak. “I have seen her a couple of times since we stopped following her. She was with a boy of about the same age last time I saw her.” The man continued to give Skelly a description of the boy, and where he had seen them visiting.
“Thank you for your help. My guild appreciates your time and information, we would be happy to return the favour in the future if you ever find yourself in a similar situation. I also thank you for not requesting payment for the info
rmation, which of course, you were fully entitled to do. If, however, any of your guild spots this girl, I would be more than willing to pay for the information regarding her whereabouts. We will be staying at The Golden Feather, if she turns up.”
“No need to pay. If she's spotted, I'll send word to you of her whereabouts. There's nothing I hate more in this world, than a thief who steals from their own. Just promise me one thing. Make sure she suffers before she dies,” Tyray replied with conviction.
“Oh, you can count on that,” replied Skelly with an evil grin.
Chapter Eight
Lusam woke up feeling happier than he could ever remember feeling in his whole life. The night before still fresh in his memory, of Neala's soft lips, and how wonderful they felt against his own. How they cuddled and caressed for hours, then talked into the small hours of the morning, about things he never thought he would share with anyone.
Today was both an end, and a new beginning for Lusam. Finally the books were almost all catalogued; today would be their last day before the work was complete. He was glad the tedious work was finally coming to an end, but he also knew he would miss this place too. This old underground monastery had given him so much, not least of which was the love of Neala, and the new magical knowledge he had gained, which he could use to create a new life for them both in the future. Feeling doubly blessed, he offered a prayer of thanks to Aysha, and asked that his good fortune may continue in the future they had both planned together the night before.
After getting dressed he headed to the book room for the final time, where he started moving the small remaining pile of books magically to be sorted alphabetically. He had only been there a few minutes, when Neala entered the room with a beaming smile on her face. She didn't offer him her usual morning greetings as she entered the room, but instead walked over to him, sat on his knee, and gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead, before saying, “Good morning my little mage.” Lusam smiled at the sound of her sultry voice, before kissing her lips, and saying in his best attempt to replicate the voice, “Good morning my little assassin.”Neala playfully scowled and pouted at the description he used, but didn't comment on it any further. She then kissed his forehead once more and stood up.
“So, looks like our last day here then,” she said, nodding towards the few books that were left in the small pile.
“Yeah, I was just thinking about that earlier. I think I'll miss this place you know. It's been good to us here. It's kept us warm and dry over winter, provided us with money and food, my new magic, and best of all, it gave me you.” Neala beamed at his last comment.
“I'll miss it too, but at least I'll have you. I think we owe Mr Daffer more than he could ever know,” Neala said.
Lusam laughed,“You're not kidding. How strange fate is. If I hadn't decided to go to the main gate that day, I'd never have met you, and none of this would ever have happened. Maybe we both would still be living on the streets, even now. Who knows?”
“I'm glad you did go to the gate.”
“Me too,” he agreed. “There aren't many books left to do, maybe two hours at most. How about I come with you to get our supplies today?”
“That would be really nice,” Neala said, offering her hand to hold. Lusam took her hand, and they left the book room and headed for the stairs to the shop. When they entered the shop, they both noticed Mr Daffer behind the counter slowly wrapping some books in brown paper.
“Good morning Mr Daffer,” they both said almost in unison.
“Good morning,” he replied glumly. Lusam thought it would be an ideal opportunity to inform Mr Daffer that this would be their last day, and thank him and Lucy for the chance of working for them both.
“Mr Daffer, I thought you would like to know all the books will be catalogued by the end of today. We would both like to thank you very much for giving us the opportunity to do the work for you,” Lusam said, noticing Mr Daffer looked more than a little preoccupied.
“Oh, yes. Thank you both. That's good to hear,” Mr Daffer replied, without any conviction in his voice at all.
“Would it be okay to thank Lucy too?” Neala asked hopefully.
Mr Daffer visibly sagged at the question. Lowering his head, he replied in a muffled voice, “I'm afraid not Neala. Lucy is gravely ill, and hasn't been awake since the day before yesterday. I will pass on your thanks if I am able.” He could not hide the tears now falling freely from his eyes, as he looked away from Lusam and Neala.
Neala gasped at the bad news, before turning to Lusam, and with desperation in her voice said, “Lusam, you must help her! You can fix her with your mag … ” Neala was cut short as Lusam squeezed her hand hard.
“Please can I speak with you alone for a minute,” Lusam asked, nodding his head towards the basement door. Without waiting for a reply, he pulled Neala by the hand to the top of the stairs. Lusam looked back over his shoulder at Mr Daffer, but doubted he had even noticed their conversation he looked so grief-stricken. Opening the door, and almost pulling Neala through after him, he turned back towards her. He was about to speak, when Neala angrily dragged her hand out of his grasp, and interrupted him.
“What's wrong with you Lusam? Lucy needs your help. Now! Have you forgotten what you said, not five minutes ago? We owe these people a huge amount. We certainly owe them enough to try and save one of their lives!” she almost screamed at him.
“I haven't forgotten anything! Neala believe me when I tell you, it's dangerous if we let people know about my magic.”
“WHY? Why is it dangerous? Tell me.” Lusam thought for a moment, then he realised he couldn't answer her question. He had been told over and over again by his grandmother when he was a child, that it was dangerous to let people know that he could wield magic, but she never told him why. “I … I don't know,” he replied deflated.
“You don’t know! You're refusing to help, and you can't even tell me why! What happened to that person I met, the one who lived by his high and mighty moral code?” Neala was angrier than he ever thought possible, and he knew he didn't have a good enough reason to refuse to help Lucy. He also had no idea at all, if he could actually help her anyway. But there were two things he did know. The first was that these people deserved for him to at least try, and the second was, he certainly didn't want to lose Neala over something like this.
“Okay, I'll try. I'm not sure if I can do anything though, but I'll try my best. Whether it works or not, we must at least ask Mr Daffer to keep my secret safe,” Lusam said quietly. Neala looked at Lusam, and nodded her head in agreement. She knew deep down that if he hadn't been genuinely concerned about keeping his secret safe, he would have agreed to help Lucy straight away, and if anything happened to Lusam because of this, she would never forgive herself.
“Okay, we'll make him promise never to reveal your secret, no matter what happens,” Neala agreed.
Lusam instantly felt the tension leave the air between them. “Thanks Neala. I'm sorry I don't know why it's so important to keep my magic a secret, but I’m sure my grandmother had her reasons for making me promise never to reveal it. I'm sure if she had lived, she would have explained everything to me, and it would all make perfect sense. But unfortunately, I don't have all the answers,” he said, in a soft calm voice.
“I understand your concerns, I really do, but we must help Lucy if we can. Come, let me talk with Mr Daffer. I'm sure he will agree to keep your secret safe.” Neala took hold of Lusam's hand and led him back into the shop, towards the counter where Mr Daffer was still standing.
Neala noticed how lost in thought Mr Daffer was, as he absent-mindedly fiddled with the brown paper and string he was using to bind the books. “Excuse me Mr Daffer,” she said, when he didn't seem to notice them both standing there. Mr Daffer turned his head towards them, but remained silent. Neala cleared her throat and tried to think of the best way to approach the subject with Mr Daffer, before deciding she should just say it.
“Mr Daffer, we have something impor
tant to tell you, but you must promise us you will never tell anyone else. Can you promise us this?”
Mr Daffer continued to stare blankly at her, as if he had not understood her words. “Please Mr Daffer. Lusam can help Lucy, but you must promise first.” At the sound of Lucy's name, Mr Daffer seemed to become aware of his surroundings once more, and focused on the two of them standing there. “The healers said nobody can help her now, child,” Mr Daffer said in a defeated voice.
“Lusam may be able to help her, but I need you to promise you will keep his secret. Please Mr Daffer, promise me!” she said, pleading with him. Mr Daffer looked at her and nodded his head. It wasn't quite what Neala wanted, but she guessed it was all she would get out of Mr Daffer, so she continued, “Mr Daffer, Lusam can try to heal Lucy with his magic. He's really very good at it. Can you take us to her so he can try?”
Mr Daffer's face and mood changed so quickly it took Neala by surprise.
“Are you mad girl! Magic is not real! Please leave me alone. I have enough to worry about without your wild promises.”
“But it's true! Just give him a chance and you'll see.”
“GET OUT!” Mr Daffer shouted at them both, pointing towards the door.
Still holding Lusam's hand, she turned to him and said, “I'm sorry Lusam”
“Sorry for wha … AARGH!”
Neala lifted Lusam's hand, and in the blink of an eye, cut the back of his hand with her dagger.
“What did you do that for?” he asked, holding his now bleeding hand in his other hand. “Oh stop being a baby, it's only a scratch! Now you can show Mr Daffer you can use magic.”
“I could have convinced him I had magic abilities by lifting one of his book cases or something, you didn't have to cut me!” he replied incredulously.
“Oh yeah, I never thought of that. Sorry,” Neala said apologetically.
Mr Daffer stood there looking furious at the two standing before him, one of whom, was now bleeding all over his clean floor. He was about to repeat his demand that they left his property immediately, when Lusam put his bleeding hand on top of the counter in front of Mr Daffer. Blood pooled onto the counter around Lusam's hand, as he began to focus on closing the wound.
