Darkblade Justice: An Epic Fantasy Murder Mystery (Hero of Darkness Book 7)

by Andy Peloquin

  The Hunter stood and moved to loom over the pale-faced man. “Where did you give him the message?”

  Entym shrank back, his words an unintelligible jumble.

  “Journeyman!” Master Gold’s voice echoed loud in the room. “Speak plainly, and you have nothing to fear.”

  The man swallowed hard, collected himself, then tried again. “I-I handed it to the Bluejacket on the corner of the Path of Penitence, near the eastern edge of Vendor’s Block.”

  The Hunter pondered the man’s words. If the boy got the message in Vendor’s Block and was headed toward Baronet Wyvern’s mansion in The Gardens, how in the bloody hell did he end up in Old Town Market? The marketplace lay at least a quarter of the city’s width in the opposite direction. The risk of being spotted dragging the boy—alive or dead—across Praamis to dump his body in that alleyway was far too high.

  Only one answer made sense. They had to have gone through the sewers.

  “If that is all?” Master Gold asked the Hunter with a raised eyebrow.

  The Hunter, concentrating on his thoughts, gave a dismissive wave, and the rotund Journeyman fled from the room without a backward glance.

  The Hunter retraced the route he’d taken through the sewage tunnels, pinpointing the spots where he’d entered and where he’d emerged once again after finding the killers’ lair. Old Town Market wouldn’t have been too far out of the way, and the killers could move freely underground.

  “You say the body was found in Old Town Market?” Master Gold shot a meaningful glance at the fierce Ghandian woman beside her. “That’s far out of the boy’s route.”

  The Hunter nodded. She’d been thinking along the same lines as him. “Which begs the question, where was he snatched?”

  “I will have my people search.” Master Gold stood, a dismissive tone in her voice. “I’m certain we will find something to lead us to—”

  “Do so.” The Hunter stood as well. “But do not let them get in my way. I am still not convinced you are blameless, but for now, I will accept that you had no reason to want the child dead.”

  “How magnanimous of you!” The Guild Master’s tone was sharp, her voice edged with anger. “Truly, your judgement of our integrity sets my heart at ease.”

  The Hunter met her anger with icy calm. “You and your kind are fortunate that is all I am judging today, else the outcome of our meeting this night would be ending quite differently.”

  The woman’s face went flat, as hard as the steel in her assassin’s hand. “Beware your words, Hunter. Your legends will not stop me from putting a dagger in your heart.”

  The Hunter snorted. “Your threats are meaningless to me. I am no more afraid of you than of the Bloody Hand, and unless you wish to end up like them, I warn you to stay out of my way. Next time I may not show such restraint.”

  “You call killing Kindan restraint?” the assassin, Errik, shouted.

  “He chose to fight when I gave him the opportunity to walk away unharmed,” the Hunter growled back. “His blood is on his own hands.”

  “Perhaps I ought to get a bit of your blood on mine!” Fury twisted Errik’s face, and his hand dropped toward his sword.

  The Hunter didn’t move. “Do your worst. I did not come to fight, but if I must…” He left the words unsaid. “You and your kind are little better than the Bloody Hand. Be grateful I—”

  “You bastard!” The assassin’s face had gone white with rage, his tone dripping hatred. “We are nothing like those scum.”

  “Kidnapping children, forcing them to become criminals like you?” Anger flared hot and bright within the Hunter. “Even the Bloody Hand didn’t stoop that low.”

  That pushed the man over the edge and, with a furious roar, he ripped his sword free and charged.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Horror froze Ilanna in place for a single instant as Errik charged the Hunter. She’d sensed Errik’s mounting anger—he’d taken the death of Kindan harder than she’d expected—but she’d never expected him to lose his temper.

  That single instant was enough for the Hunter to nearly kill her friend.

  The Hunter moved fast—faster than she thought possible. His posture shifted from looming fury to lethal grace with the agility of a striking serpent. He stepped forward, seized Errik’s upraised sword arm, and pivoted with impossible speed. Errik flipped over the Hunter’s shoulder to crash hard into the floor. The Hunter followed him down, his ornate belt dagger suddenly in his hand and poised to thrust into Errik’s neck.

  “No!” The cry burst from Ilanna’s lips with the force of an explosion. “Stop!” The cry was directed both at the Hunter and Ria, who had drawn her assegai spear and prepared to charge.

  She glared at Ria and shook her head. Don’t, she mouthed.

  Ria bristled, but Ilanna’s expression hardened until the Ghandian woman stepped back.

  The Hunter paused, dagger a finger’s breadth from Errik’s throat. “Why?” He spoke without taking his eyes from Errik. “Give me one good reason to let him live.”

  “Because I’m asking you,” Ilanna said.

  At this, the Hunter shot a quizzical glance at her, one eyebrow cocked.

  “No threats, no insults, no promises.” The words poured from Ilanna’s mouth with a force beyond her control. “Just a request from one human being to another.”

  This seemed to amuse the Hunter, for some reason. A smile quirked his lips.

  “Forgive my friend his rashness.” Ilanna scowled at Errik, who lay on the floor, eyes fixed on the Hunter and the blade dangerously close to his throat. He knew the legends of the Hunter as well as any—if the stories were to be believed, that dagger could steal a man’s very soul. “The Bloody Hand is a sensitive topic for many of us. We all lost friends to their cruelty.”

  The way the Hunter had spoken of his vengeance against the Bloody Hand, Ilanna could tell the act had been very personal. Few things could motivate an assassin to wage a personal war on such a powerful organization. There wasn’t enough gold in Voramis to make that happen, which meant the Bloody Hand had done something to piss him off. She’d gambled that they had harmed someone close to him, perhaps a child, even, given his passion in hunting for the murderer that was killing children. Not a lot to go on, but with Errik’s life on the line, she’d taken the gamble and used that to appeal to whatever shred of decency he possessed.

  It seemed to work. He didn’t release Errik, but the dagger didn’t continue its descent toward her friend’s throat.

  “I know what the world thinks of the Night Guild.” Ilanna pressed her momentary advantage. “They call us monsters for what we do. Perhaps they are right, but I make no apology for doing what is necessary to survive. Certainly you can understand that as well.”

  The Hunter turned toward her, his gaze piercing. Though he said nothing, Ilanna sensed she was getting through to him.

  “Yet, despite what people think of us, we are nothing like the Bloody Hand!” Vitriol dripped from Ilanna’s voice and fury burned in her gut. “They were a blight on this world. They brought only pain and suffering, and Einan is far better off without them.”

  “On this, at least, we can agree.” The Hunter spoke in a quiet voice, and Ilanna heard a depth of meaning she didn’t quite understand.

  “So call us thieves, killers, thugs, or criminals, but never associate us with those bastards!” Ilanna found herself moving around the desk, striding toward the Hunter. Dagger or no, she wouldn’t allow him to hurt Errik. She crouched in front of him, her face a hand’s breadth from his. “And if you ever compare me and my people with them, I will rip out your tongue, legend be damned!”

  The Hunter held her gaze for a long moment, his eyes seeming to pierce to the core of her being. A smile slowly spread on his lips, and he actually chuckled. “Consider me warned, Guild Master.” He sheathed his dagger, stood, and offered Errik a hand.

  The Serpent stared in stunned surprise at the Hunter’s outstretched hand, then scowled and roll
ed to his feet, sheathing his sword in one smooth motion.

  The Hunter folded his arms. “Allow me to offer you a deal, Master Gold.”

  Ilanna cocked her head. “I am listening.”

  “Our goals are aligned. We both want to put an end to these murders, and deliver the guilty to their deserved punishment.”

  His tone made Ilanna certain he had no intention of turning the killer over to Duke Phonnis for a fair trial. She had no problems with that.

  “I have no quarrel with your people,” the Hunter continued. “As long as they do not interfere, I will not harm them.”

  Ilanna shot him a wry smile. “How kind of you.”

  The Hunter ignored her retort. “After I have found the killer and dealt with him, I have no reason to remain in Praamis. The city will be yours.”

  This surprised Ilanna. “Just like that? No more contracts, no more deaths for the legendary Hunter of Voramis?”

  The Hunter shook his head. “I have come here for a specific purpose, and I will depart when I have finished. Pray to the Watcher that I do not have cause to return.”

  The words sent a little shiver of instinctive fear down Ilanna’s spine, but she kept her expression neutral. “So be it. You are free to use the Hawk’s Highway or the sewer tunnels, and I will ensure my people do not interfere with your business.” She strode over to the desk, picked up the skull-headed dagger, and tossed it to him. “Show them this, and they will know that you have my permission to operate freely in Praamis.”

  The Hunter caught the dagger without taking his eyes from her. “A truce, then.”

  “But be warned, Hunter.” Ilanna held up a finger. “My people will also be searching for the killer. If we should find him first…”

  The Hunter smiled at this. “This is one quarry you may hope never to meet. Your people are good—better than many of the men and women I’ve faced across Einan.” He nodded to Errik, the grudging respect between skilled opponents. “But the killer I hunt would tear through your bravest warriors without breaking a sweat.”

  Ilanna narrowed her eyes. “Even the most skilled fighter can be brought low with the right weapon.”

  “True.” The Hunter inclined his head. “Yet you may find that this enemy cannot be defeated with any of the weapons you wield.”

  Ilanna struggled to conceal her puzzlement. What in the bloody hell is he talking about? The way he said it made it sound like she hunted some kind of monster or beast, but those belonged to the pages of story books.

  The Hunter slipped the ruby-headed dagger into his cloak and swept her a bow. “Farewell, Master Gold.”

  “Watcher guide your steps, Hunter.” Ilanna inclined her head.

  Just like that, the Hunter of Voramis, the assassin that inspired terror enough to make the nobility of southern Einan wet their britches, strode from her office.

  At the click of the door closing, Ilanna felt as if all strength drained from her limbs. She sagged against her desk and let out a long breath.

  “Bloody hell!” She rounded on Errik. “What in the Watcher’s name were you thinking, rushing him like that? You could have been killed! Fiery hell, you should have been killed.”

  “He murdered Kindan.” Errik met her gaze with a defiant scowl. “And when I heard him talking like that—”

  “You should have kept your bloody temper under control, damn you.” Ilanna blew out another shaking breath. “The way he moved, that speed, he’d have slit your throat before you could blink.”

  “I know.” For the first time in decades, fear glinted in Errik’s eyes. “He had me dead to rights. So why didn’t he finish it off?”

  “Because we’re not his target,” Ria said. Ilanna turned to find the woman gripping the plush armchair in white knuckles, her hands trembling with the rush of adrenaline. “The Hunter only kills those he’s paid to.”

  “Only, in this case, I believe it’s personal for him.” Ilanna had reached the snap judgement when Errik’s life was on the line, but her intuition had proven true. “He doesn’t care about Chantelle or any of the others. It’s the murdered children that set him off.”

  Errik’s eyebrows rose. “You think?”

  Ilanna nodded. “Think over what Tassat told you of their encounter. The Hunter accused them of murdering children. He didn’t say anything about the rest of the bodies.”

  Ria seemed to pick up Ilanna’s train of thought. “But when he thought Tassat wasn’t responsible for killing the children, he let them live.”

  “Exactly.” Ilanna’s brow furrowed. “Whatever brought him to Praamis, he’s focused on hunting the murderer now.”

  “Keeper’s teeth!” Errik whistled. “So it’s true.”

  Ilanna cocked an eyebrow. “What is?”

  Errik scratched his beard. “A story I heard on my last visit to Voramis.” He sat in one of the chairs beside her desk. “A rumor of dozens of deaths around the same time the Bloody Hand was eliminated. Beggars and outcasts, mostly those too old, weak, or sickly to live long. But among them were a few children, and one story mentioned one of the Beggared from the House of Need being killed. As I said, it was nothing more than speculation, but—”

  “But it could put the Hunter’s actions in an interesting new perspective.”

  Ilanna sat as well and leaned back in her chair. She’d been too relieved at the Bloody Hand’s demise to care about the why. She had chalked it up to nothing more than a turf war, the Bloody Hand crossing the Hunter or interfering with his business. Yet with Errik’s story and what she’d seen of the Hunter, a new burning curiosity had formed in her gut.

  Perhaps he’s not quite what the legends make him out to be. That was an understatement, she knew. Legends of the Night Guild exaggerated their cruelty and viciousness—she encouraged such aggrandizement because it served as a useful deterrent to her enemies. So who is the Hunter, really?

  Ilanna pushed the thought from her mind. She could speculate later. Right now, she had to focus on locating the killer. The Hunter had come for answers, but he’d inadvertently given her the clue she sought.

  “Errik, go to Shaw and get the Hounds out on the streets. I want them combing every street between Vendor’s Block and Baronet Wyvern’s mansion. If there’s even a hint of where that Bluejacket was snatched or who took him, I want it found now.” Ilanna fixed the Serpent with a stern glare. “And make sure they understand the terms of our truce with the Hunter. Make sure everyone knows.”

  Errik glowered, but Ilanna knew it was nothing more than his instinctive reaction to what had just happened. The Serpent had spent more than two decades training to be the best assassin in the Night Guild. Facing an opponent as clearly superior as the Hunter could shake any man’s confidence.

  Errik made to go, but Ilanna stepped forward and seized his arm. “You almost got yourself killed today, Errik. That would have killed me, too.”

  Errik’s anger melted away. “Sorry, Ilanna.” Sorrow twisted his face. “Kindan…he was more than just another Journeyman to me. He was the closest thing I had to a brother.”

  “A rare gift in our line of work.” Ilanna took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “The time to mourn him will come, I promise.”

  “Thank you, Ilanna.” He returned her grip for a moment, then broke free. “I’ll see to the Hounds.” With a solemn nod to Ilanna and Ria, he strode from the room.

  Ilanna turned to Ria, only to find anger burning in the woman’s eyes. “What?”

  “I’ll rip your tongue out, legend be damned?!” Ria’s voice held an edge of fury. “Did it ever occur to you that that might piss him off and he’d just slash your throat instead of Errik’s?”

  “The thought did cross my mind.” Ilanna smiled.

  Ria was in no mood for humor. “It’s my job to protect you, Ilanna, but sometimes you make that job bloody difficult!”

  “It’s not your job.” Ilanna shook her head. “You’re the Master of House Phoenix, not—”

  “I don’t care what my title
is.” Ria stalked around the desk with the grace and fury of a panther on the hunter, Ilanna her prey. “It’s my job because I bloody love you. I’d do anything to stop you from getting hurt, but when you go and put yourself in such a damned stupid position and piss off the Hunter of bloody Voramis, you—”

  Ilanna silenced her tirade with a kiss. The encounter with the Hunter left her more shaken than she cared to admit, and the strength of Ria’s presence comforted her. When she broke off, she found moisture on Ria’s face.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have realized how foolish I was being.”

  Ria blinked away tears. “You are my life, kauna.” The Ghandian word meant “my love”, an endearment Ria only used in tender moments. “You and our little Hawk. If anything happened to either of you, it would shatter my heart.” She gripped Ilanna’s face in her strong hands and pressed another kiss to her lips. “I am quite fond of that tongue of yours, my love, but there are days when it is far more trouble than it’s worth!”

  “Would you believe me if I promised to mind it?” Ilanna asked.

  “Not for an instant.” Ria gave Ilanna a wry smile. “Your strength of spirit is one of your greatest qualities, and one of the reasons I fell in love with you all those years ago—”

  “Not that many years ago!” Ilanna protested.

  “Fair enough.” Ria laughed, then her expression sobered. “But sometimes, I fear you are too strong.”

  “Only because I have you beside me.” Ilanna squeezed Ria’s hands. “You have made me strong, Ria.”

  “If only I’d made you cautious as well.” Ria chuckled.

  “I thought you liked my daring, adventurous side?”

  “Most of the time, yes.” Ria nodded. “But when you find yourself face to face with the Hunter, I’d counsel just a shred more circumspection next time.”

  “I’ll take your words under advisement,” Ilanna said with a grin.

  Ria looked unconvinced, but before she could retort, a knock sounded at the door.

  “Enter,” Ilanna called.