The Bloodied Shield

by Michael McKenzie

  The Crusader Sergeant opposite of Dratin offered a friendlier nod than most, before opening the door for him, wherein Grigs found the room occupied by Rebekka, Islin, and a Woman with a hood.

  And of course, leaning against their Halberd just behind Rebekka had been Razzar the Red.

  Rebekka wore her stately robes, which were of her House Colors of Purple. Islin wore garments one would see a merchant wear, satin, and silks which had been the norm of the Din's life outside of military service.

  Then there had been Trezzar, and Grigs had to look twice at her to ensure the heavily cloaked and hooded Dark Elf had been there the entire time.

  Rebekka swept her hands to her desk, revealing stacks of books, and rolls of parchment.

  "The Crusaders Funding imparted by the Crown?" Grigs asked at the site. "Charles already told me you found nothing."

  "Yes, which means that if they are receiving money and gifts, they are getting it from an outside source," Rebekka concluded, leaning back into her seat.

  "Another one of Gorgreen's distractions?" Grigs frowned, rolling his eyes in disappointment. "How much money can this man steal from his own people?"

  "What you do not know is that Dalitrous Gorgreen is being supported by the Darkscale Empire," Rebekka informed the Tiefling.

  Grigs' mouth opened, then closed. There was a look of perplex shock spreading across the dark, obsidian skinned face of the demonkin.

  "How do you know?"

  "Because a source from the Darkscale Empire told us."

  "That doesn't make any sense, why trust them?"

  "Razzar trusts them." Rebekka indicated the Ancient Elf just behind her with a small gesture.

  "It makes perfect sense, why haven't we arrested Gorgreen yet?" Grigs recanted almost immediately.

  "King Wingsteed does not want to reveal our hand." Rebekka rolled her own eyes. "If it were up to me, there would be a summary trial followed by a summary execution."

  "And she reminds us, constantly." Trezzar pointed out, garnering Grigs attention. "My Father and I would have dealt with him as well."

  "And why haven't you?"

  "Because he is not for us." Trezzar shrugged beneath that heavy, hooded cloak.

  "That has never stopped a Red before."

  "It is a Red stopping me from doing anything," Trezzar reported calmly, still smiling a coy smile with ruby red lips.

  "Let me guess." Rebekka frowned up at the scarf wearing Elf, who merely raised a thin brow. "You are keeping your own Daughter from taking a thorn out of my side?"

  Razzar, almost exactly as Trezzar had done, shrugged, yet remained forever silent.

  "What else are you hiding?" Rebekka demanded, then pointed at Razzar accusingly. "You are not like the stories of heroics with this skullduggery."

  "What am I missing?" Grigs asked, seeking answers from the Din in the room.

  Islin shook their green haired head. "Don't worry about it, my friend, I can't figure out what is going on and I just came here for tea."

  "Grigs." Rebekka started, taking an official tone as she settled in her chair. "I would not ask anyone else to do this. But it seems you can go places a Vampire cannot."

  "I have been aiding the Crusaders seek Nameless Cult Temples and Ritual Sites," Trezzar explained, garnering Grigs' attention yet again. "While I am out and about, however, I have been keeping an ear on things, and even sneaking off to do some poking around."

  "Until of course, someone had Warded me out of a warehouse just a few blocks up from the Crusader's Hold in the Northern part of the City." Trezzar's lips pulled into a tight frown. "The Wards are new. Very new. I can still smell the scribe's sweat on the stone. Yet the Warehouse had been previously empty of any contents. I know. I had checked."

  "First off, Vampire?" Grigs questioned, having gone round-eyed, and self-consciously taken a step away from Trezzar. "Day or Night?"

  "I am not a Night Lord," Trezzar replied irritably. "I reluctantly call Capri my home."

  "At least it's not the Forbidden Continent."

  "No. That place is nicer." Trezzar noted pointedly, holding up a gauntlet so they could hear her knuckles cracking audibly. "Now shut your mouth before I break your jaw."

  Grigs complied, though toyed with hilt of both blades at his hips and his eyes narrowed in defiance.

  “A Spine, Good," Trezzar observed the less than subtle movements of the Thief.

  "Armored men, similar to the ones downstairs, have been seen prowling the inside of the Warehouse from a vantage point, but we cannot see what is within."

  "You want me to sneak in there and take a look?" Grigs looked to Rebekka. "If a Vampire can't get in what makes you think I can?"

  "Stealth is not my strong suit," Trezzar admitted candidly. "There are certain advantages to being what I am, and I have yet mastered them all. I have the ability to walk through shadow when I am so inclined to do. It is how I am everywhere, and nowhere at once."

  "However, with the right warding, I cannot simply pass through. Moving physically would set off the Wards and raise the alarm, and despite the combined years of experience between my Father and myself, we do not know how to bypass them without setting off the alarms."

  "Your Mother did not teach you how?" spoke Gray on behalf of Razzar, obviously surprised.

  "Did she teach you?" Trezzar passed back to the Fox.

  "No, she did not teach Razzar. And no. I know nothing either. Can we not read a book on the subject?"

  "Draining the Wards would set off the Alarm." Islin voiced, raising a digit as if attempting to garner their attention within a classroom.

  "Teleporting through you would raise the alarm," Trezzar added, folding her arms across her chest. "Walking through, spitting-"

  "-To bypass the Wards without them setting off, you have to have the right stuff. Like a rune stone attuned to the Wards, or a sigil, which is normally drawn on or carved into the armor or equipment of the Guards." Grigs explained shaking his head, "Which is common knowledge, and assuming they know how many guards are supposed to be on duty so dressing up as one does not help."

  "Or you go a route they don't expect nor have warded. Like through a window, secret door." Grigs continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Or simply cut a hole in the roof or wall, bypass the Wards completely."

  "But if they warded it so you could not do whatever you said you do, good chance they warded every edge of the warehouse, window, and door."

  "So, I am going to have to do something ridiculously stupid and dangerous before I can do something ridiculously stupid and dangerous." Grigs finished with a clap, smiling proudly at himself.

  "I am going to need to break into the Shadow Guild's Hideout here in Westwatch."

  "Was it not the Thieves Guild?" Islin questioned, before addressing. "Did we not ruin them?"

  "Well, the Tavern itself had been shut down by Gorgreen, it is his territory along that section of the Bulwark," Rebekka said, trying to think. "I have not heard anything else on the matter. Why would you want to go back there?"

  "Well, when the Shadow Guild had been remade into that seedy little place, most of our 'equipment', that allowed us to traverse this fine City in a less than refined manner then Trezzar, had been left there."

  "Yes, Caches of Teleport Scrolls as Dratin reported. It had never been explained how you have gotten so many, and I still would like to know where all those caches are." Rebekka straightened, sounding as if she would get the explanation momentarily from Grigs.

  Grigs, however, grinned sheepishly a moment.

  "There are many many caches, your City Liege-ness." the Tiefling begun and made a calming motion with both hands. "But the thing is, we are pretty sure the Thieves and goons did not find all of the Shadow Guild's secrets."

  "How are you sure if you were betrayed, to begin with?" Islin asked the obvious.

  "You see, the thing is the ones who betrayed the Shadow Guild weren't that high ranking to begin with. Still a shock. We don't recruit people we don't
feel capable of having a conscious."

  "But, the Shadow Guild is layered on secrets on top of secrets. Long story short, there is an armory, a Thief's Armory. It's where we make and keep our tools of the trade." Grigs concluded, folding his arms over his black leather vest.

  "Which includes my means of getting into that warehouse without breaking the wards."

  "And, well, the printing press, the impressions, and the map for the teleport scrolls."

  The room was silent. Even Razzar shifted forward and leaned in to hear what Grigs was saying. And when the Tiefling finished speaking, they were all letting what had been said sink in.

  "Of course, only my Mom and Dad knew about the room," Grigs added, looking around nervously. "I technically wasn't supposed to know, but I got curious to know where mom was getting all her best lockpicks, and, well, yeah. Family secret."

  "I mean we are all Family, right? Her being a Vampire and you know of the Shadow Guild's secret little Armory. Fair trade right?"

  "We have to secure that room." the City Liege managed to fight through her shock. "Gorgreen cannot be allowed to have that room under his sway."

  "But what is in that room cannot fall into the King's Control either." Trezzar pointed out, earning her a rather cross look from Rebekka.

  "We must dispatch the Royal-"

  "-it is a Shadow Guild secret." the Dark Elf noted sharply, "A Secret for a Secret yes?"

  "There are too many secrets already." Rebekka nearly snarled in disgust. "I long for the days of simply riding into battle with sword held high."

  "I am NOT a spymaster. I do not like the idea of this Armory not under the King's Control." Rebekka fumed, smacking the desk with her hand. The City Liege then twisted, throwing an accusing glare at Razzar. "Nor do I like sitting on information that would benefit the Kingdom, if not Rals itself."

  "Too bad." Gray offered up, irritation in their own voice. "Do you think Razzar enjoys keeping secrets? There are things he could impart that shake the foundations of-"

  The Fox snapped their mouth shut, and offered an apologetic look to the Elf that glared at them.

  "-Sorry." Gray murmured sheepishly. "Still, we cannot let anyone know, nor get their hands on those impressions to craft teleport scrolls. They must be returned to the Shadow Guild, or-"

  "-destroyed." Grigs finished, nodding once. "It would be best to destroy it, just in case the Guild wanted to return anyway. They would have to set up new caches and destroy the old ones."

  "Are Gorgreen's spies using the caches to maneuver around the city?"

  "They would be only able to teleport into the City, not out." Grigs turned to Rebekka. "The cache's within Westwatch itself only send you to the Shadow Guild's hide away, and Islin there made a right big mess out of the Anchoring Chamber."

  "Dad would be the only one with access to the Armory once Mom died. The Caches in the City were used to escape. That whole certain places on certain time of the day thing only came around when the Thieves took over, kept them from eating away at the limited resources. The Caches were never really restocked on a regular basis while the Thieves Guild had been power, I know, I've checked more than a few times." Grigs shrugged and continued with a speculation.

  "Dad may have stopped providing them with teleport scrolls. We'd have to ask him, but he's been quiet. Like sickly quiet."

  "And where is your Father?"

  "He came up with us, but he went home to check up on something," Grigs answered, shrugging once more. "Can send a Griffon to him and ask him to come see you?"

  Rebekka settled in her chair, frowning in thought. They all stood as if waiting for orders and instruction, while all in all both Razzar and Trezzar could act, and enforce whatever they willed.

  They were both Reds. There had been very little they could do short of trying to guilt them into action without a full blown war.

  Finally, Rebekka sighed in exasperation.

  "That will not be necessary. Islin?"

  "You should have them destroyed, by none's authority." the Din offered, tilting his head forward in modest respect. "No one should know that you knew of their existence, and if the Shadow Guild did make an attempt to return to Westwatch, they would be indebted to the discretion offered,"

  "Considering how much the Westwatch Branch did for you during the Din War, I would imagine you owe it to them."

  Rebekka winced and sighed.

  "Fine. We will destroy the impressions. However-"

  The City Liege leaned forward, propping her elbows on the desk, and interlocking her fingers. Those green, piercing eyes sparked with a defiance that Grigs had seen Zansui have when she had been set and unwilling to deviate from a course of action.

  "-those scrolls that would bring the person into the City. I want them."

  "That." Rebekka stated with a commanding tone, "Is my price for my silence."

  <><><><><><><>

  Zansui and Jeria met Lord Hertwire at the Docks, with one end of a Pier having Samurai in Red Armor standing watch before a small craft that would take them to the Barge that lay just out of the way of the normal of fishing boats and trade vessels.

  Sir Raphamel Hertwire had been a short man, bald of hair and round of shape. Jeria, when meeting Hertwire once before, could have mistaken them as a very tall dwarf, and there may have been the blood of the stout race in them.

  Hertwire had seen the beginning, and end, of the Din War in Rilstar as an Infantryman in the King's Army. They also distinguished themself enough during the following War with the Swamp Orcs that the Old King Wingsteed elevated Hertwire to a position of Knighthood and Nobility just prior to the Crusaders absorbing the beleaguered Rilstarin Orders.

  Zansui made mention that Hertwire and their Aunt Rebekka butted heads, and often, over what should be done and how at every chance they could.

  The Lady Jakuul preferred a velvet glove and subtle approach of diplomacy.

  The Lord Hertwire wanted to hit things with their mace. A lot.

  This attitude suited the man when dealing with the rogue elements that snatched the countryside of Kallax for themselves. The Young King Ein Wingsteed's first order had been to dispatch Hertwire and take control of the Kallaxian's reconstruction, making them the Governor of the biggest Province within Kingdom.

  However, Hayabatsu, like the Lady Jakuul, preferred the velvet glove of subtle approaches as well.

  "Lord Warstalker!" Hertwire thundered as they drew closer. "Last time I saw you boy you were half naked in crappy armor and smelling of booze."

  The Older Noble sniffed at Jeria and spat off to the side. "Now you're wearing full crappy armor and all I smell is fish and sea salt. How is this cesspit of idiots and overly pompous ninnies treating you?"

  "Someone is going to stab me in the back." Jeria summarized, looking beyond Hertwire towards the Barge. "What are you doing here?"

  "Kallax was my Province and I lost it. Forced on a ship and carted off." Hertwire growled fiercely. "More accurately I was drugged and dragged out. Didn't know what was going on till I was halfway to Rilstar."

  "I was thrown off the ship when we arrived because I gave that bald headed, red-eyed git a black eye. Least give me a fair fight, but no, got to treat me like a feeble old man."

  "Red-eyed git?" Zansui questioned, "Lord Hayabatsu?"

  "That's him. I can't pronounce his name and I'm not going to try. That son of a bitch owes me an apology for not giving me a proper fight."

  "What of your men?"

  "No casualties, they surrendered without a fuss, the pricks." Hertwire nearly spat again, then made a rude gesture in the air, obviously riled up.

  "No. I am not gonna blame them for it. They were outmaneuvered, most of them were held at spear point. It was a bloodless rebellion. They were treated honorable and given three meals a day as well as their families cared for."

  "All ten companies are camped north of the Docks against the Bulwark Wall. Wanted to go back to my lands but looks like that ain't an option either."
<
br />   "But that bastard, gods did he play me for a right old fool." Hertwire scowled, glancing back towards the Samurai guarding the boat. "I've been keeping my temper in check, but they will not talk to me. I get all the way inside and settle down and they just won't open their mouths and say anything."

  "Gods have I never wanted to punch someone in the throat since that bitch of an Aunt of yours."

  When Hertwire looked back, Jeria was glaring at them coldly.

  "Fucking kill me then. I've been insulted, and my honor's been impugned. Your sister frays my godsdamned nerves more often time than not with her silly 'talk to them' nonsense. Kill them all and burn the damned boat."

  "Calm down Lord Hertwire, my Father means nothing by his stupid looks." Zansui turned slightly and elbowed her Father, who took the blow in silence.

  Jeria's lip did twist, yet he dismissed Hertwire’s insulting tone. They were right. Hayabatsu should have provided the Rilstarins a fighting chance.

  "Lord Warstalker!" someone called out behind them both, and the three Rilstarin Nobles turned, seeing the Guards impeding Raiders, with Yunzo holding up a green sash.

  "Let him through," Jeria ordered, reaching out for the fabric.

  Yunzo marched forward, followed closely by the fur-clad Samurai in mismatched armors.

  After passing the cloth to Jeria, Yunzo quickly bowed, and backstepped a respectful distance.

  Opening the sash, there had been some blood on it. However, it was bright green, with leaf-like markings in a circle, with dots between the sharp edges, with another circle within.

  "I know this banner," Jeria grunted, and nodded to himself. "This is the reason then."

  "What is it?" Zansui asked, taking the sash to inspect it.

  "This is worse than an Akuza." Jeria declared, marching past both Zansui and Hertwire.

  "And what's that?" Zansui followed closely, tossing the sash back to Yunza, who immediately discarded it to the deck.

  “Politics."

  Chapter 11

  The Vessel had been the strangest one Zansui had ever been on. It was cramped for one, with very little space for anything other than themselves. They could not take their Guards with them, but Jeria assured Hertwire that they were already amply protected.