Seeds of Virtue, Dark Descent, Book I

CHAPTER 17

  It was late, well past midnight, but one would not know that by looking in the streets of Pelartis. Though the city was not nearly as busy as it was during the day, many still roamed the wide avenues, going about their business, many of it unable to be performed in the light of day. Thieves traded stolen goods, women sold their bodies for coin, and the desperate and deranged stalked the alleyways, waiting for an unsuspecting victim. Many of these unrefined men and women did their best to go unnoticed by the hundreds of Pillars that patrolled the city, but not everyone was perfect in concealing their actions. Some were thrown in chains, many were chased into the darkness while others were only given a sharp slap on the wrist and turned away. For one of the guards, he would have much rather been among his fellow Pillars, out in the night, chasing down criminals. Instead, he was stuck in a room, shuffling through mounds of parchment and reports. Such had been his life for the past few years. It wasn’t fun or enjoyable, but it was his job and he did it better than many of his predecessors.

  Xavdak sat in his large wooden chair, finishing up a report on a gang of thieves the Pillars had arrested just a few hours ago. The four men, novices by the description of their clothing and weapons, were caught menacing a duo of young ladies. The women had a little too much to drink just a few moments before the encounter and they were easily taken advantage of. Luckily, the Pillars happened upon the assault before anyone’s life was lost. At the present time, the thieves sat in the dungeons, waiting for their time before the Colonnade.

  The High Captain of Pelartis signed the bottom of the last page, straightened the stack, and placed them in a pile to his right. Xavdak then put the quill down and leaned back, rubbing his eyes with his thick fingers. It had been a long night and appeared to be one in which he would catch only a few hours of sleep before Solaris crept into the sky. Even though he was tucked away deep in the barracks, with no windows for him to see the sky, the dwarf could feel it in his bones that dawn was only a handful of hours away. If he was lucky, he could finish the last few reports and get some sleep within the next thirty minutes.

  The night had definitely been an interesting one, starting with the debacle with Druzeel and his companions. So far, since the questioning in the dungeons, the group had managed to stay out of trouble, which came as a surprise to the old dwarf. By now, he would have thought that Brask or the half-elf would have killed somebody. Those two worried him the most out of all the Knights, but so far, reports of the group’s activity had been calm. Druzeel had gone to see the odd archmage Piyus, Dex and the halfling had gone to the Dryad’s Kiss, and the others were heading towards the slums. The report of Brask’s destination came as no surprise to Xavdak for the man was definitely someone who would have friends in low places.

  Thinking about the party’s separate destinations brought a low chuckle to the dwarf’s lips. Brask and his group had gone to the slums, a place associated with the more troubling citizens of the city. Dex and the halfling had gone to a tavern, a place full of odd people but none of them too threatening. And Druzeel, the seemingly purest of the group, was spending his time speaking with a powerful archmage, a good man known for his peculiar personality. The Knights definitely held differing personalities and ways of thinking when it came to solving a problem.

  A knock on the door interrupted Xavdak’s thoughts. He leaned up in his chair and cleared his mind of Druzeel and the others though he very well knew that whoever was coming to see him could have news of the young wizard and his companions.

  “Enter,” the dwarf said.

  Captain Scarost Tilgramin came in and shut the door behind him. Xavdak had specifically chosen the man to receive messages from the Pillars he had ordered to follow the Knights and relay the information to him. The man had an excellent memory and was good at following orders. Xavdak had also appointed him because he didn’t want a hundred different men coming to see him during the night. Captain Tilgramin was more than capable of taking all the information.

  “High Captain,” the man said, offering a salute, a fist held over his heart. He kept his light blue eyes on the wall behind Xavdak and his square chin parallel with the ground at his feet. He remained as still as a statue until his commanding officer addressed him to speak. His dedication to discipline and the rules was another reason Xavdak liked to keep the man close.

  “Report,” the High Captain said seconds after he came to a standstill.

  “Sir, the men following Brask and his group of mercenaries report that they lost them upon entering the slums.”

  “What?!” Xavdak said, his voice holding surprise. Brask had been on horseback, in the middle of the night, in the middle of street. How could a group of almost a dozen Pillars, split into two groups no less, lose them so quickly?

  “The mercenaries knew they were being trailed and as soon as they reached the slums they urged their mounts into a gallop,” Scarost continued, his voice level and clam despite Xavdak’s outburst. “Seventh Pillar Julmanec reports that they pursed them through the streets but lost them shortly after. The mercenaries used some type of spell to mimic their horses and sent the men on a wild chase. By the time they realized the rouse, Brask and his men were gone.”

  “And have we found them again yet?” Xavdak asked, his voice betraying his annoyance. He knew the mercenaries were resourceful but didn’t think they could stay hidden for so long.

  “No, High Captain,” Scarost responded. “But,” he quickly added, seeing his commander’s frustration, “our men managed to track them to a large warehouse. The mercenaries were long gone by the time the Pillars arrived, but it was clear Brask and the others had been there.”

  “They found something?”

  “Bodies,” Scarost replied with a nod. “The warehouse was a front for a band of thieves, presumingly the upstart guild called the Night Hounds.”

  “Drisk,” Xavdak said, familiar with the leader of the small guild.

  “Yes sir,” Scarost said. “He was among the dead. We have yet to learn why Brask and others went to the guild, but it is clear that some type of battle broke out. Drisk, as well as ten other thieves, were killed.”

  Xavdak sat back in his chair, rubbing his beard. The High Captain knew exactly why Brask had gone to the thief. They needed information of the assassin and what better way to find a killer than speak to those that he may associate with. But why the fight? What had happened to cause such a disagreement? Perhaps Drisk did not feel like sharing or Brask had done something offensive. Worse yet, perhaps the guild leader had been working for the assassin. Either way, Drisk and the Hounds may have been small, but the man was more than an able swordsman. He was also cunning for he had avoided the Pillars for years, as had most of his men, yet Brask and his Knights had cut them down, seemingly without a single loss. Perhaps Xavdak had underestimated the Knights and their skills.

  “High Captain,” Scarost said, snapping Xavdak’s thoughts back to the matter at hand. “What shall I order the men to do?”

  Xavdak looked at the captain, still rubbing his beard. The fact that Drisk and some of his men were dead was not such a big deal. They were criminals and would have been sent to the gallows as soon as they were caught anyway, but it were the Pillars and the Colonnade that should have handed out and executed the punishments, not Brask and his band of mercenaries. If they had killed the thieves out of self-defense, their actions could be justified, but the fact they had gone to see the guild at all could be considered a criminal offense depending on their intentions. Brask and his crew would have to be brought in either way, to find out exactly what happened at the warehouse.

  “Close off the warehouse and have the men continue their investigation,” Xavdak ordered. “As for Brask and the others, find them and bring them to me. I want to know exactly what happened in that place. I also want to make sure nothing happens to the mercenaries.”

  “Happen, sir?”

  “The remaining Hounds will want revenge,” Xavdak said. “Like us, they’ll be searching f
or the men that killed their leader.”

  “High Captain,” Scarost said, offering another salute. He turned and walked to the door. When he opened it he stopped, surprised to see Eighth Pillar Ricus Gildric standing on the other side. The man’s fist was raised to knock on the door. When he saw Scarost standing in front of him, he took a step back and stood at attention.

  “Captain,” Ricus said, giving a salute.

  “Eighth Pillar Gildric,” Scarost said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sir,” Ricus said. “I have news of the fighter and halfling.”

  “You know to wait until I return,” the captain said, angry with Ricus’s lack of protocol. “You have not been given permission to see the High Captain.”

  “I know, sir,” Ricus said, “but it is urgent and could not wait. The High Captain will want to hear this.”

  “You do not get to decide–”

  “Let him in,” came Xavdak’s voice from behind the captain. “It is too late and I am too tired to worry about Ricus’s small breach of protocol. We have more important things to worry about.”

  Captain Tilgramin stood aside, motioning Ricus to enter, all the while glaring at the guard. His gaze told Ricus that he would soon regret disobeying the rules, but his news was too important for him to worry about a few extra hours of duty, which would surely be his punishment.

  “Speak quickly,” Xavdak said, standing from his chair and shooting an impatient gaze at Ricus, “before I decide Captain Tilgramin is right.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ricus blurted out. He cleared his throat and continued. “My men and I were ordered to follow the halfling and her human companion. We followed them into the Dryad’s Kiss, where they met with a jewelry noble, Brend Hillsborrow. The three started speaking but stopped as they noticed we were watching. They made their way into the back room where we assumed they held their conversation.”

  “Did you follow?” Scarost asked.

  “They...um...they slipped away unnoticed.” Ricus said, tripping over his words. He suddenly appeared nervous.

  Xavdak eyed the man suspiciously. He slowly walked around the desk and stood in front of the man, his hard eyes meeting Ricus’s own.

  “And how exactly did a halfling and two humans,” he said in a low, harsh voice, “slip away from guards that were but a few yards away from them?”

  “They...uh, they...sent us, uh...a...a distraction.”

  “A distraction?” Xavdak asked in anger. The way he spoke told both Scarost and Ricus that he already knew what that particular distraction would be. Though he never usually visited the Dryad’s Kiss, he knew well the reputation of the place and the serving wenches that worked there.

  “The merchant,” Ricus said, now visibly sweating, “paid some of the serving wenches to distract us, to cover them leaving.”

  “You damned fool!” Xavdak suddenly yelled, balling his hands into fists. The dwarf was usually good at holding back his temper but Ricus was known to lose his attention easily and skirt his responsibilities and nothing angered Xavdak more than incompetence. The dwarf had not even wanted to use Ricus for this mission but he had been one of the only higher ranked Pillars available at the time. His stupidity, the report about Brask beforehand, and the lack of sleep had finally snapped Xavdak’s last nerve.

  “I order you to do one thing,” he shouted, holding his finger up in front of Ricus’s face, “one thing, and ye cana even do that! Ye be wurtless!”

  Xavdak’s voice slowly changed as he finished his last sentence, but Scarost and Ricus made no indication they had noticed. It was well known among the Pillars that in times of anger, Xavdak reverted to his dwarven heritage. When something annoyed him or he lost his temper, the dwarven accent came out, even more distinct than some dwarves that had lived with their kin for centuries. The High Captain’s verbal quirk was an often-told joke among the men of the guard, though no one seemed to be laughing now.

  “You did eventually notice them missing, did you not?” Captain Tilgramin asked, his voice showing he was as angry with Ricus as Xavdak was.

  “Only when the chandelier fell,” Ricus replied. Xavdak and Scarost looked at each other in confusion.

  “Explain!” Xavdak said, turning back to Ricus.

  “There came a loud crash from the room they had gone into that shook the entire building,” Ricus explained. “We jumped from our chairs and raced to the door but found it locked. I heard sounds of battle on the other side and demanded they open the door. After a few moments and no response, we broke it down and rushed into the room. Inside we found one of the chandeliers that decorated the room smashed to pieces. The halfling and the human were there, looking like they had just been in battle, but there we no assailants and the merchant was missing. They claimed that more of those shadow men had attacked them but we found no evidence. I was about to have them arrested for the damage and suspicion of murder of the jewelry merchant, but Brend showed up before I could take them into custody. He confirmed their story and said he had paid for the damage. Grenda said he had so I had to let them go.”

  “Where are they now?” Xavdak asked, his voice returning to its normal accent, the way Ricus was used to. He appeared to have calmed down but anger still painted his face,

  “They left the tavern,” the guard responded, “but seem to be just roaming the streets. Whatever they spoke of with the merchant, I don’t think they heard what they wanted. Personally, I think they were lying about their shadow attackers and were trying to get the merchant to–”

  “I don’t give a lynx’s piss what you think!” Xavdak said, his voice rising to almost a shout. Ricus suddenly went silent and his eyes turned toward the floor. Xavdak ignored him and began to rub his beard again. After a brief pause, he looked to Scarost.

  “Where is the wizard?” he asked. “Do we at least know what he’s doing?”

  “Last report said he was in the archmage’s home,” the captain said. “Ninth Pillar Willowsmin and his men could not follow the boy inside but they said they will be watching and report on when he leaves.”

  “We need to find out what Dex and the halfling wanted with the jewelry merchant,” Xavdak said. “Brend is well-connected but I can’t imagine he would be much help in finding their elusive assassin.” He turned his gaze back on Ricus. “Where is the merchant now?”

  “Still at the Dryad, as far as I know.”

  Xavdak gave no indication he had heard the man’s words. He just turned on his heels and walked to the desk. He grabbed his helmet and put it on his head. After tightening his gauntlets and flexing his fingers, he leaned over and grabbed his war hammer, a large weapon covered in runes of dark orange. He strapped the weapon on his back and walked for the exit. Ricus quickly moved to the side to avoid being trampled. Scarost, seeing his commander so determined, followed after him, a look of approval on his face. Ricus, after a short pause, stumbled forward, running to catch up.

  “Gather a dozen men,” Xavdak said while walking to the stables, which sat just to the side of the barracks. “Meet me at the Dryad.”

  Captain Tilgramin saluted and broke away to follow his orders. Before gathering his men, he reiterated his commander’s orders to the Pillars that had been following Brask. They saluted and sped away, racing to the warehouse to gather more information and send half their men to find Brask and the others. Ricus, unsure of whom to follow, stayed close to Xavdak, thinking it would be better to stay with him. The last thing he wanted was to disappear right when the dwarf captain wanted to speak with him again.

  In less than five minutes, Xavdak, Scarost, Ricus, and a dozen Pillars were on horseback and heading for the tavern. Those people that were still in streets quickly moved to the side as they raced through the city. The urgency in which they rode was all the motivation the citizens needed to get out of their way.

  The group arrived at the Dryad’s Kiss twenty minutes after leaving the barracks. Xavdak and his men dismounted and walked straight for the entrance. Many of
the people standing outside the tavern quickly made themselves scare, wanting no part of what was about to happen. A few others, walking past the establishment, stopped to see what was going on. After a few hard stares by the Pillars following their captain, the curious onlookers moved on, knowing it was better to heed the warning that was just given to them. A large man standing near the entrance, flirting with one of the tavern’s serving wenches, saw the High Captain coming his way and almost fell on his face trying to get out of sight, all thoughts of a night of passion gone from his mind.

  “High Captain,” the serving wench said, offering a polite curtsy, though she barely had anything on to perform the action properly. “What seems to be the trouble?”

  “Go get Grenda.”

  His stern voice and hard eyes told the girl that she had better just obey. He was deadly serious and the girl sensed it immediately. Luckily, she did as he instructed and disappeared from sight, almost running inside. She knew that the last thing her boss would want was a dozen Pillars, let along the High Captain himself, barging into the tavern, fully armed and armored. It would do nothing but keep the coin from finding her hands. They did not object to guards visiting to partake in the establishment’s many offerings, but these men had come for business and nothing else.

  It only took a few moments after the serving wench left for Grenda to come out and meet the Pillars. The large woman wore a look of concern, mixed with annoyance at the sight before her.

  “High Captain,” she said, bowing her head in Xavdak’s direction. She knew better than to offer anything other than kindness to the dwarf standing before her. Everyone knew that not all of her business activities were exactly legal. She liked to keep herself in good standing with the guards. It helped them turn a blind eye to what she was doing. “You asked for me.”

  “Earlier tonight there was a skirmish with a halfling, a human, and a jewelry merchant named Brend Hillsborrow. They caused a good deal of damage, is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Grenda said nodding, “but Lord Hillsborrow paid for all the damages. I informed the guards it was enough. In fact, I believe I told you that,” she said, pointing at Ricus. “What’s this about?”

  “I need to ask Lord Hillsborrow a few questions about what happened,” Xavdak said, keeping his eyes on the tavern’s owner. “Can you send him out?”

  “I would,” Grenda said, “but he left a short time ago.”

  “Where?” Xavdak said. The way he said the word told Grenda that it would be in her best interests to tell the truth. Sometimes, many of the business owners in Pelartis, especially those running businesses with less than legitimate practices, liked to hide or disguise information of their patron’s whereabouts.

  “Not far,” Grenda answered truthfully. “He’s a few doors down at his store, Alluring Accents. He had a few too many and decided to sleep there instead of trying to make him home.”

  Xavdak nodded his thanks and started walking down the street, the Pillars following right behind. Grenda watched for a few seconds then walked back inside her tavern, glad to be rid of the guards.

  The dwarf did not look at the beautiful columns of marble or gaze into the large windows that held dozens of displays of the merchant’s work. He cared nothing for the elegant necklaces, dazzling rings, or sparkling jewelry that rested on the tabletops or shelves. He just walked right up to the large door and knocked loudly, making sure that if there had been anyone sleeping in the buildings next to Alluring Accents, they would have awakened as well. Regardless of his knocking, no one came to the door. Xavdak continued to knock for many moments, but still Brend failed to answer.

  With a snarl of anger, Xavdak lowered his shoulder and prepared to knock the door from its hinges, but something caught his eyes, a few faint grooves right next to the door handle. It looked as if someone had taken a blade to the door, trying to pry it open.

  “Weapons out,” Xavdak said, motioning to the guards. The Pillars said nothing and obeyed his words. Soon, over a dozen swords were shinning in the moonlight, with steady hands grasping their hilts.

  Xavdak reached down and tried the door handle. With a soft click, the door opened. No longer surprised that it was unlocked, Xavdak slowly pushed it open and looked into the darkness.

  If he had been human, Xavdak would have needed a torch to see the details of the room in front of him, but he was a dwarf, and the darkness held no secrets to his eyes. Slowly, his vision adjusted to the darkness and the room took shape. He did not see the room as if it was daylight. Instead, he saw the various levels of heat that every object, no matter what its composition, gave off. Even dead wood emanated some level of heat.

  As he cautiously entered, he saw nothing but an empty store. Though his night vision aided him, it would do nothing to reveal an assassin hiding behind a counter, so he moved slowly, motioning for his men to wait for his order to follow. Since they were all human, they would need torches to see and if someone was hiding in the store, he didn’t want them to know he was coming.

  Xavdak scanned the store, looking for anything out of place, but nothing seemed wrong. The merchant’s merchandise sat undisturbed, the displays and cases looked untouched, and the floor showed no signs of passage. The High Captain moved further in, hands tightly wrapped around the handle of his hammer. He walked towards the back of the store, eyes darting to every shadow, every corner, and even looking over the ceiling. He had learned long ago that people rarely looked up and the ceiling was a perfect place for an assassin to lay in wait. Again, nothing alarmed him. The store seemed empty, but as he turned to go, his eyes fell upon a mirror. Reflecting in its surface, laying behind a large counter in the back of the store, was what looked like feet. Xavdak turned around and walked over. The heat coming from what he knew to be a body was low, indicating either sleep or death. Based on the scrapes on the doorway, he assumed the latter. Unfortunately, his assumption proved to be correct.

  Brend Hillsborrow lay in a pool of blood, his eyes opened in terror and his mouth agape in a wordless scream. He blue coat was soaked with blood and his dead gaze was locked onto the ceiling, seeing nothing but darkness. The puddle beneath him had spread out in wide circle, telling Xavdak that the merchant had been dead for a little under an hour. His body was still showing a little bit of warmth, but in another twenty minutes or so, the heat from his skin would be gone completely.

  At first, Xavdak could not see what had killed the merchant because his body was cloaked in the shadow of the counter he lay behind and the dwarf just saw a large blob of heat. When he leaned in closer, the murder weapons, which were still embedded into the man’s chest, slowly came into view. Xavdak narrowed his eyes as he saw what they were.

  The High Captain stood up and gave the room one last look. There was a back room and a second level but he knew they would be empty. The murderer was long gone by now. The assassin had come to the merchant’s store for only one reason. Once the merchant was dead, the killer had left.

  Xavdak turned and motioned for his men to enter, but soon remembered that they could not see him in the darkness. He walked outside the store.

  “Four men upstairs, four to the back,” Xavdak ordered. “Search the store and report back anything odd. The rest come with me.

  The Pillars rushed into the store, flooding it with torch light. As ordered, four guards walked up the stairs, swords out and eyes peeled. Another four moved through the main room, making an arrow right to the back room. Xavdak didn’t bother to tell them that the place was empty. He wanted them on their guard and prepared for the unexpected just in case someone or something just happened to be waiting for them. He was fairly certain they would find nothing by an empty building, but he was a cautious man and made sure those he trained were as well.

  Captain Tilgramin, Ricus, and four Pillars followed Xavdak through the room, following him to the body. The Pillars fanned out around the body, the golden glow from their torches illuminating the gruesome scene.

  “By the gods!” Scarost
exclaimed, seeing the blood. As a captain, he had seen his share of blood and gore, but he never got used to seeing such horrors. To Xavdak, that was a good thing. Men should never become accustomed to such things.

  “Looks like he was stabbed over a dozen times,” one of the Pillars commented. Wounds covered the merchant’s chest and stomach and blood was splattered all over the floor and counter. Whoever had stabbed him had done it viciously and violently, continuing the attack even after the man had dropped to the floor.

  “Are those...daggers?” Ricus asked, looking at the two tiny weapons sticking out of Brend’s body.

  “Yes,” Xavdak said with a deep breath.

  “Those are a little small for daggers,” Scarost noted.

  The blades embedded into the merchant were indeed smaller than the ones the guards were used to seeing and dealing with. They were about half the size of a normal dagger and the hilts appeared entirely too tiny for any man to grip.

  “They are small,” Xavdak responded, again with an irritated breath. “But they are not meant for human hands. These are halfling daggers.”

  Captain Tilgramin and Ricus looked at the High Captain in confusion, not understanding his meaning, but the bewilderment only lasted for a few seconds. Ricus was the first to get what his commander was implying.

  “The halfling mercenary,” he said in ager.

  “Jannda?” Captain Tilgramin said in disbelief. “Could she have really done something like this? She is the size of a child. How could she take done a man that outweighs her by almost three hundred pounds?”

  “She could if her fighter friend was holding Brend from behind,” Ricus said.

  “They sure seemed intent on talking to the man while at the tavern,” commented one of the guards around the body. He and one other had been with Ricus when he was in the Dryad’s Kiss, watching the mercenaries.

  “Perhaps they killed him after they got what they wanted,” Ricus suggested, nodding to the guard.

  “So why did Grenda agree to give them a private room if they meant to harm him?” said the other guard that had been at the tavern.

  “They may have threatened him,” a third guard said, offering only his opinion based on what he had heard. “An assassin never tells their victim about their intentions. By the time the victim knows the truth, it is usually too late.”

  “We don’t know for sure,” Scarost said, listening to his men. He took note of all their words and scenarios, trying his best to understand what could have happened. “We cannot place guilt without doing a more thorough investigation,” he finally said, realizing there could be much more to this than what they were seeing. “So far, there are no footprints or any indication that anyone was in here with the merchant. Whoever killed him was good at covering their tracks. Before we zero in on anyone, I want to have more evidence.”

  “They were the last ones seen with him!” Ricus said, unable to believe what the captain was saying. “Those people,” he said, referring to the Knights, “have lied about their involvement with the destroyed caravan, stolen from the dead, and laid the blame for murder on the shoulder of so called shadow assassins. The weapons that killed Brend are even those a halfling would use. What more proof do you need to see their guilt?”

  “You forget yourself, Eighth Pillar,” Captain Tilgramin said with rising anger. He could deal with conflicting ideals and opinions, even with men disagreeing with him, but he would not let anyone speak to him, especially an officer of lower rank, in such a tone, with a lack of respect.

  Ricus wore a look of disbelief, but he quickly realized what he had just done. Seeing the anger on Scarost’s face, a superior officer, made him take a step back and a lump rise to his throat. He quickly lowered his gaze and stepped back.

  “Regardless of their guilt or innocence,” Xavdak said, not wanting to let the situation before him escalate, “they need to be questioned.” Scarost, Ricus, and the other Pillars looked to the High Captain, who took on a hard look.

  “Bring the fighter and halfling in for questioning. We have a murder to talk about.”

  * * * * *