by Ben Cassidy
They moved out into the little area behind the warehouse. Above, the snow continued to drift gently down.
Kendril kicked a few loose boards out of the way. “Ready?”
Kara crossed her arms. “No offense, Kendril, but I don’t know what you can teach me that Maklavir hasn’t already. He’s already taught me every dance there is.”
“And you keep tripping over his feet.” Kendril turned back to the girl. He drew one of his swords and tossed it to her. “Here.”
She caught it by the handle, surprised. “I thought you said we were dancing.”
“First things first.” Kendril drew the other short sword. “Defend yourself.”
“Defend--?”
The Ghostwalker leaped forward and slashed at the woman’s head.
She blocked the blow without thinking, then ducked back a step.
Kendril came in again and swiped at her chest.
Kara took the blow on the edge of her own sword, then swept in with a return strike.
He parried it easily, twirling his sword through the cold air. “Not bad. Watch your left foot when you swing.”
Kara stemmed another lightning-fast attack. “You want to tell me what this has to do with dancing?” she asked between breaths.
“Dancing is like swordfighting,” said Kendril. He lashed out with a series of short, quick blows.
Kara nimbly blocked each in turn, her feet sliding on the slick ground. “I think this is more dangerous.”
Kendril chuckled. “You’ve obviously never been to a ball before.” He backed up a few steps. “How are you blocking my attacks?”
She blinked. “I don’t really think about it. I guess I’m watching what you’re doing.”
“Exactly.” Kendril lifted his weapon. “Dancing for a woman is easy. The man leads, you follow.”
Kara’s nose wrinkled. “And who decided that?”
Kendril dashed in with another sword strike.
The redhead blocked it again with a clang of ringing steel.
“You see?” said Kendril. “Just like swordfighting. You have to watch your opponent, anticipate his moves, react to his actions.”
Kara’s breath misted out into the frosty air. “So you’re telling me that I need to treat a dance like it’s a duel to the death?”
Kendril shrugged. “Always helped me. Watch your partner’s eyes. See what he’s going to do before he does it. React, but also act. Don’t hesitate.”
She smiled. “And then when I have an opening, I ram my sword straight through his heart?”
“Trust me, in that white dress your body will be the sword.” Kendril sheathed his sword and held out a gloved hand. “Ready to do real combat?”
Kara took it. “Lead on.”
“Dutraad’s estate is here, in the Vines.”
Joseph looked up from the map spread out on the table. “The Vines?”
Maklavir stroked his bare chin as he looked over the parchment. “A lavish neighborhood in southwestern Vorten. Gated estates, townhomes. The Grand Theater is there.”
Tomas nodded. He stabbed a finger into a marked area of the map. “Dutraad has a large manor house out in the country, but he comes here to Vorten to his townhouse in the winter, like most of the other nobles. That’s where he is holding his Candle Ice feast and ball.”
Madris peered thoughtfully over the map. “And what is the neighborhood like, Tomas?”
The Ghostwalker scowled. “For us? Not good. It’s high-class, patrolled regularly by gendarmes. There are a few nice inns, a handful of high-end shops. Mostly, though, we’re talking rows of gated townhouses and estates owned by the wealthy and influential families of Vorten.”
“Not just Vorten. Many of the nobles in Varnost travel here in the winter as well.” Maklavir tapped the open map. “The City of Light is considered the crown of Valmingaard.”
Tomas looked up at the assembled group. “We can’t exactly loiter around in front of the townhouse all night.”
“Where’s the closest inn?” snapped Olan impatiently.
Tomas moved his finger to another marked part of the map. “Here. The Crooked Goose. Almost a mile away.”
Hamis gave an audible growl from where he sat on a nearby barrel. “Not good.”
Tomas nodded his agreement. “No, it’s not.” He looked up at Maklavir. “I’m sorry, but once you and Kara walk through the front door, you’ll be on your own.”
Maklavir swallowed. “I see.”
Joseph glanced over at Maklavir. “But we’ll be there as well, won’t we? If you get into any kind of trouble—”
“You’ll be restricted to the servants’ quarters,” said Maklavir quietly. “You won’t be allowed into the main hall at all.” He looked up at Tomas. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You can’t exactly come storming into the house.”
Tomas and Olan exchanged glances. Kendril straightened, biting his lip.
Maklavir hung his head. “Oh great Eru, you lot are simply impossible.” He looked at the Ghostwalkers. “You can’t just go barging into Dutraad’s house, guns blazing. The man is a baron, for Eru’s sake. Like it or not, it is up to me and Kara.”
“And what if the Soulbinder’s not in the house?” asked Olan gruffly. “Dutraad could have moved it.”
Tomas shook his head thoughtfully. “If Dutraad is behind this, then he knows how valuable the Soulbinder is. It won’t be far from him.”
“Great,” said Kendril. “So Maklavir and Kara are walking into the middle of the spider’s web with no way for us to back them up short of blasting our way in.”
Tomas stepped back from the map. “That’s about right.” He pulled out another parchment, and unfolded it on the tabletop. It was a rough sketch of Dutraad’s townhouse. “It gets worse. Baron Dutraad is also acting Colonel of one of the city’s trained bands, the Orange Regiment.”
Joseph scratched his beard. “Trained band?”
“Vorten has several volunteer militia regiments,” interjected Maklavir. “They’re made up of freemen, officered and equipped partially by city funds and partially by their commanding officer, who tends to be a wealthy nobleman.”
Joseph nodded. “I see.”
“Vorten has six trained bands, organized and named by different colors,” continued Tomas. “As I said, Dutraad is acting colonel of the Orange Regiment.”
“So what?” asked Kendril with a note of impatience.
“So,” said Tomas, “even though the regiment has not been called up, Dutraad keeps several of the officers and some of the sergeants on permanent retainer.”
“Am I supposed to understand what that means?” asked Maklavir.
“It means,” said Kendril with a grimace, “that Dutraad has a group of armed thugs working for him.”
“Mercenaries,” confirmed Tomas. “All with battle experience. Dutraad keeps them at his estate. I saw some of them when I was reconnoitering the place. Rough fellows.”
“How many?” Madris asked.
“A dozen or so.”
Kendril looked sharply at Tomas. “And how much of the Orange Regiment is loyal to Dutraad?”
The other Ghostwalker gave a helpless shrug. “Impossible to know. You think Dutraad would try to mobilize?”
Maklavir looked up at the ceiling with a groan. “It’s Balneth all over again. Conspiracies and palace takeovers. Eru help me.”
“The palace is in Varnost,” Kendril said. He scanned the sketch of the townhouse.
Maklavir gave his friend a sardonic glance. “Thank you, Kendril. I am well aware where the King’s palace is located.”
Hamis sat up and gave Kendril a startled look. “You were in Balneth during the insurrection?”
Kendril glanced over at the bald Ghostwalker. “Yes. I’ll tell you about it some other time.”
Olan gave Kendril a dark look. “I’m sure we’d all be curious to hear your part in that little affair, Kendril.”
“Let’s stay focused,” Madris broke in. “So Dutraad has guards
, and he might be able to count on more soldiers to back him up if things turn against him. All the more reason then why we can’t allow this situation to spiral out of control.”
Olan snorted. “You don’t really expect Dutraad to just let the Soulbinder go without a fight?”
“If Kara and Maklavir can retrieve it clandestinely, then he won’t have much choice,” said Tomas quietly.
“And we’ll have evidence to bring to King Luxium,” said Kendril.
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves.” Madris shifted her weight on the cane. “First we have to get the Soulbinder.” She looked over sharply at Maklavir. “We have established that you and Kara will be essentially on your own. I need your honest appraisal. Can the two of you do what is being asked of you?”
Maklavir leaned back and took a deep breath.
“Maklavir?” Kendril prompted.
“Kara is a first-class thief,” he said at last. “If the Soulbinder is in that house, she’ll get it.”
“Yes,” said Olan, “but can she really pass as a noblewoman?”
“You’d be amazed how easily people can be fooled,” Kendril interjected. “I’ve heard you’re passing as a section commander.”
Olan clenched his fists, but did not respond.
Joseph glanced subconsciously towards the back of the warehouse. Kara was out of sight, getting some much-needed sleep. “Kara can do this,” he said in a low voice. He looked over at the red-caped diplomat. “And so can Maklavir.” He grinned at Kendril. “Our team is ready to go.”
Kendril gave a wry smile.
“I’m glad you think all this is so humorous,” said Olan bitterly. “Because if you fail here, it could mean—” He stopped mid-sentence.
A chilled silence fell over the group.
“Tomorrow will be a big day,” Madris said at last. “We should all get some sleep tonight. I doubt we’ll get any tomorrow night.”
Olan looked hard at Kendril one last time, the candle light flickering off his face. Then he turned and stalked off into the darkness.
Kendril turned and clapped Joseph on the shoulder. “We servants should get some rest, too.”
Maklavir clapped his hands together. “As long as that carriage holds together.”
“Trust me,” said Joseph, “it’ll hold just fine. After all the work I’ve poured into it, it better.”
The group turned wearily and began to disperse to the darkened corners of the warehouse.
“Tomas, Kendril,” said Madris. “A word.”
The two Ghostwalkers paused as the others disappeared. Once they were out of earshot, Madris spoke again in a soft voice.
“The new moon is in two nights.”
Neither Kendril nor Tomas responded. They did not have to.
“If Kara cannot get the Soulbinder covertly,” Madris began again, staring off into the darkness of the warehouse, “then you are both authorized to retrieve it by whatever methods you deem necessary.” She looked over at both of them. “And if you cannot find the Soulbinder, you are authorized to engage in…threat management. Is that understood?”
Tomas and Kendril both nodded somberly.
“Eru help us,” Madris whispered. “We are certainly going to need it.”
Chapter 18
“Tuldor’s beard, Kendril, you can’t take those along.”
The Ghostwalker looked down at the two pistols stuck into his belt. “What? Why not?”
Maklavir sighed deeply. “You’re a servant, Kendril. Servants don’t go around armed to the teeth.”
Kendril set his face obstinately. His familiar back cloak and gloves were missing. He wore the simple brown and tan tunic, trousers, and worn boots of the working class.
Joseph came around the side of the carriage. He smiled over at Maklavir. “At least he’s not bringing the swords.”
Kendril ignored the comment. “We’re walking into what could be an explosive situation, Maklavir. I can’t—”
The diplomat raised a finger. “Correction, dear boy. We’re walking into a mission of infiltration, where in order to achieve success we have to keep a low profile. That means that the servants that accompany Lady Maklavir and myself should not look like they are riding off to battle.”
Kendril gritted his teeth in silent anger.
Joseph cocked an eyebrow. “Lady Maklavir?”
“He’s right.” Tomas came over to them. Like Kendril, he had swapped the cloak of his order for simple peasant clothing. “We can’t come in with weapons. The other servants would certainly notice, if no one else did.”
Kendril seethed for a few more moments, but then unbuckled the holsters at his belt. “A dagger, then? Surely I can take that?”
Madris chuckled from where she sat over by the table. “A dagger, then, Kendril. Just keep it hidden.” She glanced over at Olan, Hamis, and Callen. All four of the Ghostwalkers were armed and stood silently in the shadows of the warehouse. “We will be at The Crooked Goose. If anything goes wrong, one of you will have to reach us there as quickly as possible.”
“Except for me,” boomed Hamis. The burly man stepped forward, dressed in gray rags and a brown patchwork cloak. He lifted a bottle and smiled. “I’ll be lying in a pile of filth in a nearby alley, taking swigs of this and acting drunk.”
Tomas nodded. “What side of the house?”
“South.” Hamis grinned. “If things go wrong and you can’t get out to me, put something red in one of the windows facing that direction. I’ll summon the others as soon as I can.”
“Yes,” said Maklavir drolly, “and you’ll all come barging in with guns banging and swords drawn. We’ll call that our last resort.”
Kendril put his pistols heavily down on the tabletop. He eyed Callen grimly. “Keep these with you. If you have to come in after us, I want you to bring these and my swords, understand?”
The boy looked around at the others in surprise. “Me? I didn’t really think—uh--?”
“Vesuna’s blood,” Kendril said irritably, “you don’t have to use them, just bring them for me. Keep the pistols loaded and dry.”
“It won’t come to that,” said Maklavir again.
“We need to be prepared in case it does,” Madris returned quietly. “The Soulbinder is too important to risk losing.”
Tomas looked over the carriage with an approving nod. “You did a fine job, Joseph.”
The scout looked away in embarrassment. “I could have done better, if I had had more time. Still, it’ll get us there well enough.”
Kendril put his hand on Veritas’ side, and patted the stamping beast. Joseph’s horse was also hitched up to the front of the carriage, just waiting for the word to go. Kendril glanced back at Maklavir. “You said we won’t have access to the main dining hall or the ballroom?”
The diplomat plucked a hair off the sleeve of his silk shirt, and dropped it off to one side. “No. Dutraad has kindly invited Kara and me to stay the night, and I accepted. He’ll undoubtedly put us up in one of the many guest rooms he has, along with other guests traveling from far away, or close friends who are spending several days at the residence.”
Joseph turned with a concerned look on his face. “Wait? You and Kara are spending the night?”
Maklavir brushed the front of his shirt. “Yes. If we weren’t it wouldn’t make much sense to bring servants with us, would it? You’ll undoubtedly be put up for the night in the servants’ quarters.”
“But…” continued Joseph, “the whole night?”
“Like I said, Dutraad’s Candle Ice festival is a lavish affair. It will undoubtedly go until almost dawn.” Maklavir chuckled. “Many of the guests will undoubtedly be drunk out of their minds before the sun rises.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Tomas darkly. “It will make finding the Soulbinder that much easier.”
“But couldn’t Kendril and I just look for it while you and Kara are down at the festivities?” asked Joseph. “We might attract less attention.”
“You are we
lcome to look for this Soulbinder as much as you are able,” said Maklavir as he straightened his vest. “But you won’t be able to wander the house as freely as Kara and myself. And I suspect Dutraad has not hidden this relic of yours in the downstairs pantry.”
Joseph gave a reluctant nod. “I understand. Just…I mean—”
Maklavir raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Just…keep an eye on Kara, will you?” Joseph’s voice was low.
“I can keep an eye out for myself, Joseph.” Kara stepped into the room. She was wearing a snug, expensive-looking green satin dress. Her hair was done up in a flurry of delicately placed curls, each touched with a hint of glittering sparkle.
Wanara appeared just behind her, a satisfied smile on her face.
Kara grinned apologetically. “Turns out Wanara here knows a lot about hair.” She glanced over at Maklavir. “And the dress is fantastic, Maklavir.”
“I can see that for myself,” the diplomat said with a smile.
Joseph stared at the vision of beauty before her. “Wow, Kara, you look…you look like---”
Kara beamed at him.
“Like a lady,” Kendril finished for his tongue-tied friend. “We’re as ready as we’ll ever be. Let’s get a move on.”
Hamis and Callen moved towards the main warehouse doors and started unbolting them.
Olan glared at them from where he lounged against a crate. He chewed angrily on his lower lip.
Maklavir stepped towards the carriage. He whipped off his cap and opened the door, then gave a bow. “After you, my lady.”
Kara giggled momentarily, then straightened with a serious look on her face. “Of course, my lord. Let us be off.” She took his proffered hand and glided up into the awaiting carriage.
Maklavir pulled his cap back onto his head, then stepped up into the vehicle beside her.
Joseph watched them intensely.
The large doors to the warehouse swung open, sending in a flurry of snowflakes and a bitingly cold wind.
Tomas stepped up onto the top of the carriage and grabbed the reins. “Time waits for no Ghostwalker.”
Joseph gave the closed door one last look, then climbed up beside him.
