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The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) Page 9


  The walls were covered with carefully sculpted wooden panels, displaying exquisite craftsmanship in their varnish and carving. No rare paintings hid their natural beauty, and Lucius got the feeling that Magnus was, at heart, a man who enjoyed simpler things.

  The room itself, however, was dominated by a long dark wood table, whose polished surface reflected perfectly the light of the oil lanterns standing on pedestals in each corner of the chamber. Around the table were eighteen tall-backed chairs, upon sixteen of which were seated an assortment of men and women. Some Lucius had seen before, passing through the common room, but he did not know any of their names. At the head of the table at the far end of the chamber sat Magnus, and he smiled as they entered.

  “Here comes our hero Lucius – welcome to the Council,” Magnus said grandly, and Lucius felt acutely uneasy as all eyes turned on him. Caradoc had taken his seat at the opposite end of the table to Magnus, indicating that Lucius should take the last free chair, halfway along the left edge.

  Lucius was aware of the short woman seated to his right watching him as he sat, and he nodded in greeting. She was perhaps of a similar age to Magnus, but showed few signs of ageing. Her hair was dark and slicked back along her scalp, while her face was marred by a scar that split her lower lip. Feeling there was something disconcertingly serpentine in the way she looked at him, Lucius turned to glance at the man on his other side, but found he had already returned his attention to Magnus.

  Seeing the new arrivals settled, Magnus waved at the group to continue their business. A young man opposite Lucius spoke up.

  “We have started to move prostitutes from the docks to the merchant quarter during evening hours, and this has proved a profitable move. Traders far from home still look for home comforts, and our girls are very good at what they do.”

  Magnus grunted, and then sighed. “There is still something distasteful in this operation, I find myself thinking. To profit so directly from human trade – it seems a little too close to slavery for my liking.”

  The woman to Lucius’ right raised her voice in response. “Better they are in our care than someone else’s. Can you imagine how the Guild would treat them? With us, they earn good money, and do so in relative safety.”

  “Yes, yes,” said Magnus, “as you said before, and that is why I have allowed it to continue thus far. Still, it is something I will keep a close eye on.”

  “It is also a mistake to think that all these girls have been forced into the work,” the woman continued. “If you have an efficient organisation like ours behind you, there is good money in it – far better than common labour. I hear they even have their own guild in Allantia.”

  “You are just too old-fashioned, Magnus,” another, younger, woman said, and a few laughs stirred round the table. Even Magnus gave a wry smile.

  “Maybe,” he said. “Nate, please continue.”

  The young man across from Lucius spoke again. “The Street of Dogs is quiet after Caradoc’s mission last night. Brink hasn’t shown up for work yet...”

  There were a few more laughs round the table at this.

  “...but I think it will be a while before anyone openly challenges us again.”

  “I disagree, and we must not be complacent,” said the man to Lucius’ left. “Most of us here profit in some way from the Street of Dogs, and I would not see us risk that. Brink could just be a prelude, and if we were to find that those mercenaries were funded by the Guild and not Brink himself, well... I would advocate more direct action against the Guild.”

  There were a few murmurs of agreement and Lucius flicked a look at Caradoc, but the lieutenant was staring fixedly at the table in front of him.

  Magnus rapped on the table to regain everyone’s attention and the murmurs stopped instantly. He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. After a moment’s pause, he turned to look at Lucius.

  “What do you think, young man?” he asked. “What would you do about the Guild, were you in our place?”

  Once again, all eyes turned on Lucius, and he felt himself blush. “I... I wouldn’t know, exactly,” he stammered.

  “Nonsense,” Magnus said. “You are clearly an intelligent man, talented enough to be made a senior thief in a matter of weeks. You have your own mind. Speak!”

  Lucius thought hard for a moment. It was, he realised, a good opportunity to play politics, to support the guildmaster, to start building up his own phalanx of friends and enemies on the Council. He instantly dismissed the idea as foolish and, frankly, beneath him. He did not know nearly enough about the thieves sitting round this table, and he had a feeling Magnus would see through any disingenuous arse-kissing.

  “So long as incidents can be contained, I think we should watch and wait. If we act, we cannot take anything back.”

  “You’re timid, then,” said Caradoc, and this burst of shrewishness surprised Lucius until he looked back at Magnus’ measuring expression, and guessed this kind of prodding was a play between them, with Caradoc acting as the fall guy.

  “Cautious, yes, not timid,” Lucius said carefully. “It might be foolish to tip the scales if the possibility of another solution lies round the corner.”

  Lucius winced inwardly as he realised he had just called the opinions of at least some of the Council members foolish, but he continued onwards. “If my advice were sought, I would say we watch to see what the Guild does next, and do what we can to ensure they do not cross the line.”

  “Ah ha!” said Magnus. “And where exactly is that line?”

  Smiling, Lucius held the guildmaster’s eye steadily. “That, I believe, is what this Council will decide.”

  Magnus returned Lucius’ smile, then laughed. “Well said.”

  The table fell silent for a moment, before the woman seated next to Lucius spoke again. “Are we seeing more pressure round the Five Markets?”

  A hairy man next to Caradoc, who for all the world reminded Lucius of a badger, answered her. “We are still getting kids pressuring our teams. Some have taken to wearing blue scarves, round their heads or arms, though Kerberos alone knows why. Dead giveaway to the guard.”

  “Then they are obviously not worried about the guard. They are likely a warning to intimidate our kids – difficult to concentrate when you know you are being watched, and a collection of blue scarves would tend to stick out in the crowd.” He looked up at Magnus. “I recommend we leave it in Ambrose’s hands for now. He’ll ask for support in the Five Markets if he needs it.”

  “Agreed,” said Magnus. “Though I would be loath to send thieves down there. The pickings will be far less than they are used to, and they’ll see it as a step down.”

  “Perhaps some compensation from the vaults could be made, show we are taking their work seriously,” Caradoc said.

  “Perhaps,” said Magnus. “I’ll give that some thought. We can’t open the vault every time we want to get something done. The point of a guild is that things work both ways, and sometimes members just have to get on with it. However, the Street of Dogs is the key. If something happens, it will happen there. Nate, you believe our hold there is solid for now?”

  “More or less,” the young man answered.

  “Well, which is it?”

  “No one is about to jump, but I am damn sure they’ll be courted by the Guild. Maybe they’ll spin a story about Brink that will make us look as if we took action against him for no good cause, and that was what made him move to the Guild.”

  “We’ll set up watches then,” said Magnus. “You pick out a half dozen of the shakiest clients, and we’ll station thieves on them. Make sure they are not approached by the Guild and give them the frighteners if they are.”

  “That will be more revenue deducted from the Street of Dogs,” remarked the short woman.

  “Money well spent, I am sure,” said Magnus. “And I believe we have our first volunteer. Lucius, are you inclined to give us a hand here?”

  Lucius was again caught by surp
rise, and he kicked himself for not being more alert. He certainly should have known that Magnus would take the opportunity to test him, rather than simply allowing him to be a passive observer.

  “Of course,” he said, after taking a breath. “I was just starting to plan a few things of my own, but I can push them back–”

  Magnus held up his hand. “No need! We’ll get you working in shifts with someone.”

  When Lucius looked at him with confusion, Magnus explained. “We always reward personal initiative among the Hands, and if you are planning an operation of your own, I would be most fascinated to see what it is and how you get on with it. However, you must also learn to serve the guild’s interests when necessary. So, we’ll have you watch some merchant or shopkeeper by day, and give you free reign in the evening to plan and execute your grand larceny, whatever it may be.”

  Looking round the table, Magnus raised his eyebrows. “Any other business?” he asked.

  As one of the senior thieves close to the guildmaster started to propose a tiered percentage of takings for the guild, based on seniority and wealth, Lucius glanced back down the table at Caradoc. The lieutenant gave a brief smile and nodded his compliments.

  Lucius had made a good impression, and he knew it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ALLOWING THE SHADOWS to envelop him, Lucius held his breath as another patrol of Vos guards marched past his position, their red tabards appearing almost black in the half-light of Kerberos. With a second’s concentration, he summoned the shadows of the alley to completely cloak him, but it was an unnecessary precaution, for the attention of the guards was fixed firmly across the Square of True Believers and the grand edifice that was nearing the last stages of completion.

  When Vos had swept through Turnitia in its grand war of conquest which was intended to break the back of Pontaine, its arrival had been heralded by a rise in the Final Faith. It had started with preachers appearing on street corners, haranguing the crowds as to the fate of their souls. Soon enough, the Final Faith was using the support of converts who were acting as a network of spies and scouts, marking those in power, officially or not, for the Vos captains to hunt down when their armies moved into the city. The capitulation of the city was therefore accomplished quickly and without many losses among the armies; the people of the city were the ones who suffered.

  That the Faith was able to annihilate its rivals, the Brotherhood of the Divine Path, was more than a bonus for the Anointed Lord and her followers. It allowed them to start with a clean slate in the city, making their faith the official religion of Turnitia as much as it was in the rest of the Vos Empire.

  In recognition of the efforts the Final Faith had extended during the occupation, the Empire had permitted the creation of the Square of True Believers, the site of a new church dedicated to the dominant religion. Though most of the resources used in the reconstruction of Turnitia were swallowed by the Citadel and its expansion, the followers of the Final Faith had taken what they could from the authorities and then tackled a great deal of the work themselves. They pulled down the houses that stood where their church would rise, excavating the foundations and then piling stone upon stone to create their place of worship.

  It was said the square was wide enough to accommodate the entire population of the city, for the conversion of all was the Final Faith’s stated aim. The church itself was not yet completed, and scaffolding would surround its southern tower for another year or two at the least. However, the nave was complete and, as far as the priesthood was concerned, that made the church open for business.

  Far from alienating itself from the population after the riots it had started before the Empire arrived in force, the Final Faith had worked hard to ingratiate itself within the city. The people of Turnitia had traditionally carried their own beliefs lightly, as befitted a free city, but instead of being a hindrance to conversion it had meant there were no doctrinal barriers for the priests to break down. Once established, the Final Faith had dispensed food and money to the poor, offered shelter to those forced from their homes by the armies and, most of all, created a sense of community centred on the Square of True Believers.

  While the people of Turnitia would never become fanatics, in the way those of Scholten were often described, living in the shadow of the Faith’s great cathedral, most would now describe themselves as followers, even if they did not observe every holy day on the calendar. As a result, the money started to flow into the coffers of the new church from those seeking to help those less fortunate or those wishing an easy path into the afterlife. This was the reason that Lucius was now staking out the square.

  As the patrol moved past his hiding place, Lucius recalled some of the lessons his father had tried to teach him of the Brotherhood and its beliefs. He had never really embraced religion in his youth, and his father had never forced it upon him, believing instead that his son should find his own path in life, and for that Lucius was grateful.

  The Brotherhood, Lucius learned, had splintered from the Faith a century earlier, a dispute arising between two factions over the excesses one saw in the other. However, the schism was rooted in just one difference of interpretation of ancient texts. The Faith believed mankind had to be led on a tight and narrow path towards complete unity, in order to achieve salvation of all and ascendance to the next plane of existence. To this end, the priesthood was known to play politics at the highest levels, influencing cities and nations in an attempt to bind the peninsula into one cohesive organism.

  Indeed, it was said that the Faith was the prime motivator behind the last war, seeking to make the Empire of Vos dominant over its old rival, Pontaine. That past Anointed Lords had tried to make Pontaine ascendant over Vos did not seem to strike any true believer as contradictory.

  The Brotherhood believed mankind was already on this path, and merely had to suffer war, bloodshed and terror as part of the process it was already fated to follow. The rituals and observances differed between the two religions, of course, but this was the centre of their dispute, the one difference responsible for so many deaths over the past hundred years.

  Scanning the square, Lucius saw another patrol on the far side, and began to time their approach. Just gaining entry to the church would be problematic, he realised, for the priests clearly had enough friends within the Citadel to ensure the square was watched at all times.

  He was confident that a man of his... abilities could do it but he suspected only the most accomplished of thieves would succeed, and they would likely not be interested in the risk/reward ratio of breaking into the church, the ultimate calculation every good thief lived by. Once inside, the pillars, statues and altars, along with the shadows they created, would be his allies, but everything rested upon crossing the open square without catching the attention of the guard. He began to look upwards at the roofs of the nearest buildings, wondering if a more vertical approach would be appropriate, though the closest structure lay over a hundred yards away from the church, which seemed an impossible chasm to cross.

  “So, you are running with the Hands now.”

  The female voice behind him made Lucius start with a fright, and he was ashamed to find that all the excuses he had rehearsed for the event of getting caught by a patrol momentarily fled his thoughts. He caught himself and turned round, his mind working once more as it recognised the voice.

  “Aidy, you are forever creeping up on me,” he whispered.

  Her eyes, dark on the brightest of days and virtually invisible in the shadows, looked at him with what he guessed was utter contempt.

  “There is no need to keep your voice low,” she said, and he thought something approaching loathing was in her words. “The guards cannot hear us.”

  Lucius tilted his head to one side as he concentrated on the flow of magic he now realised filled the alley. Adrianna was using her mastery of stealth to ensure a passer-by would neither see nor hear them. He finally nodded in understanding.

  “Your training has all but d
eserted you,” she said scornfully.

  Not wanting to engage in another verbal duel, Lucius tried to change the subject. “How did you find me?”

  His question drew a hiss of frustration. “I told you before, you are like a beacon to me. I can feel your presence from half a city away.”

  Becoming irritated at her superior manner, Lucius snapped back. “So, what do you want?”

  She took a step closer, looking straight into his eyes. Of matching height, he could feel anger radiating from her in waves, and he fought to return her stare without blinking.

  “You have caused me no end of problems lately. Do you consider yourself a thief now?”

  “I am a thief, Aidy.”

  “So far the mighty fall,” she said.

  It was his turn to show anger. “I told you before why I had come back to the city. I’m doing alright at the moment, and I’ll thank you to stay out of my business. You’ll just have to endure my presence a little longer, then I’ll be gone.”

  “Unless, of course, you make yourself too comfortable where you are,” she pointed out, then seemed to change tack. “And as it happens, you are not doing me the courtesy of staying out of my business.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m working a contract with the Guild of Coin and Enterprise.”

  Things suddenly clicked for Lucius. “It was you there that night. In Brink’s house. How can you be working for those bastards, Aidy? Do you have any idea what they are doing?”

  “Don’t be such a bloody idiot. People like you and I have greater allegiances than the petty concerns of thieves. Or, at least, we should. They are but a means to an end, Lucius.”

  “They are my friends.”

  “A man like you has no friends,” she said caustically.

  Once again, anger flared in him. “You don’t know a damn thing about me now, Aidy. Whatever you thought of me before was wrong, and you are no closer to the truth now. People died in that house, and I am willing to bet you were in a position to stop that happening.”