Shadowdance 05 - A Dance of Ghosts Read Free Page B

hesitate to kill women,” Thren said, shaking his head. “The ones immersed in the lives we live are just as dangerous as any man. You’ll get yourself killed someday if you let such a weakness linger.”
    “Perhaps.” He sheathed his blades. “Did you kill the rest?”
    Thren gestured north, toward the forest.
    “About five or six managed to flee. I’m sure they’ll come back for the wagon in a day or two, see what’s left of it. We have nothing to fear from those cowards.”
    Haern was less ready to be so dismissive, but he did not argue the point. Instead, he stood and stared at the bodies bleeding out before him as his father walked over to the nearest covered wagon and tossed aside one of the flaps. One of the women was not yet dead, but her eyes were glassy, her breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps. Her fingers were near her face, digging into the loose earth as her hands convulsed at random intervals.
    “We needed to refresh our supplies, so meeting them was fortunate,” Thren said, and Haern heard rattling as he pushed aside unseen things to search through the wagon’s contents.
    “Aye,” Haern said, kneeling down before the woman. He reached into his belt, withdrew a dagger he kept for emergencies. The woman continued to gasp, slower now. Feeling like he’d swallowed a rock, Haern forced her eyelids closed with his left hand, then stabbed with his right. Unlike his father’s strike, his pierced the heart directly. He left the blade in there, not wishing to increase the pain any further, and instead watched and waited. The woman let out a gasp, but it sounded more surprised than anything. And then the breath leaked out of her, the movement of her chest stopped, and her fingers curled in tight and moved no more.
    Haern pulled free the dagger and stood. As he cleaned it on the bottom of his cloak, he glanced over his shoulder, caught his father watching him.
    “That wasn’t necessary,” said Thren.
    “I disagree. Did you find anything useful?”
    Thren gestured for him to come closer and look for himself.
    “Plenty of food and drink,” Thren said as Haern glanced inside. “But it looks like it was only for the crew manning the wagons. I thought there’d be some crimleaf in here, maybe some wines laced with Violet, but instead we have only these…”
    He pushed aside the lid to a crate, reached inside, and lifted out a thick stone slab. It was roughly the size of his chest, and by the strain on his muscles, it was clearly heavy. Thren dropped it down on the wood, and at sight of the mark carved onto the front, he turned and spit.
    “Egotistical bastards,” Thren said. “They can’t mark territory like any other guild. They have to carve it into the very stone of the walls and street.”
    Haern reached down, his fingers tracing the four-pointed star of the Sun Guild, deeply cut into the tile with a skilled hand and then painted a soft yellow. The sight of it grew a pit in the center of Haern’s stomach as he wondered what all transpired in Veldaren during his absence. He’d hoped that after they drove out the first wave of members, plus killed the priest, Laerek, who’d been helping the Sun Guild move into the city, they would have earned a respite. Apparently, that was not the case.
    “How many are there?” Haern asked, looking further into the wagon.
    “Ten in this wagon alone,” Thren said. “The Darkhand plans on taking over the entire city, by the looks of it. These stones will signify their territory, and I have a feeling that in a few months, it will be impossible to cross a single street without seeing one.”
    “Darkhand?” Haern asked.
    Thren shook his head.
    “Leader of the Sun Guild. Don’t worry about him for now. We have our own matters to attend. There’s cheese wrapped up near the front, plus some butter and lard. Grab your pack and get to it while I load up on whatever oats they had. If we’re to have a city left waiting for us by the time we’re done, we need