A Dance of Cloaks - By Dalglish, David Page 0,45

feel himself the dashing sort, though in her opinion he looked more the castle mummer than a city pirate.

“I play no games with you,” Veliana said. “Your men have pushed into our territory. Everything south of Iron Road is ours, yet daily I find the bird’s eye scrawled over our ash.”

“You know the manner of guilds,” Kadish said, waving a dismissive hand. “The strong take from the weak. If you are so worried about the lost homes and bazaars then defend them.”

“Not here,” he added when he saw her reach for her daggers.

“That’s the game,” Veliana said. “You aren’t the stronger. We could bury you in days if war broke out between us. Why the sudden confidence? You’re as spineless as a snake. Where did this newfound courage come from?”

Veliana expected the insults to rankle the proud man, but instead he laughed as if she had tickled him.

“Courage is a funny thing,” he said. “What you see as courage I see as wisdom. You aren’t as strong as you once were. James Beren’s ego has defeated you. You would not storm in here red with rage if this were just a simple loss of a few pitiful homes and merchants. But wait! Don’t tell me, otherwise you spoil the game. The Serpents have moved in as well, haven’t they? And I bet the symbol of the wolf covers plenty of your ash in the east.”

“Every one of them is a lie,” Veliana said, her voice calming. A deadly seriousness had replaced her anger. “Soon all symbols will be the spider. You know that, don’t you?”

“You know nothing,” Kadish said, scratching the skin below his eyepatch. “And you can’t see the future. I, however, am smart enough to view the present. As long as you hold out on Thren and his Spider Guild, you are lost. We’ll take your members, your streets, and if we must, your lives. We all want this war to end; we will not suffer Beren to keep us from that finality. Tell him if he wants to have a guild by the end of the month, he needs to pledge his men to Thren Felhorn.”

“You know,” one of the men beside Kadish said, an ugly brute with scarred lips and a missing ear. “Perhaps James might be more willing if we had his pretty lady here for ransom.”

This time Veliana did draw her daggers but Kadish stood and glared at his men.

“This meeting is done,” he said to all of them. “We will not debase ourselves with such talk. The Ash Guild will see wisdom. Good day, Veliana.”

The woman spun and left, slamming the door behind her. When she was gone, Kadish rubbed his chin as his underlings snickered and made lewd comments.

“They’re vulnerable,” he said. “Rasta, take a few of your boys and have them scour the Ash Guild’s streets. Find out just how badly they’ve been pressed.”

“Planning something big?” the earless man said.

“Keep your mouths shut for now,” the guildmaster told him. “But if James has lost more than we anticipated…”

He let the threat hang in the air. Rasta stood and left while the earless brute recovered the dice from the floor, shook them in his hands, and rolled.

Aaron winced as he walked down the hall, his shoulder throbbing from where Senke had struck him. Ever since the meeting, and Thren’s promise to include him in all things, his father had made him spend hours training. Most often Senke was his trainer, the wiry rogue second to only Thren in skill with a blade.

“Are you ready?” Senke had asked when they first closed the door to the large, open room. Aaron had nodded but held his tongue.

“Good. Let us dance.”

And so they had danced, blunted practice swords whirling and clanging as they parried, riposted, and blocked. Of all his teachers of combat, Senke was by far the best as well as the most enjoyable to be with. He laughed, he joked, he said things about women that made Aaron blush. When it came to swordplay, though, he took the dance seriously. The joy would fade from his eyes, like a fire buried in dirt, and then he would explain an error, or detail improved reactions. Most often he smacked Aaron with his sword and let the pain do the teaching.

That day Senke had been determined to hone Aaron’s dodging abilities. The sword struck too quickly, and Aaron’s initial reaction was always to block or parry, not dodge. Other teachers might have taken away his