A Dance of Cloaks - By Dalglish, David Page 0,133

groin.

“Change of plans,” Thren said. His face was an icy mask, his disguise barely hiding his rage. He pointed at Leon, not caring if any saw.

“He’s mine,” he said, his voice so cold that Cynric shivered. “No matter what happens, that fat bastard is mine to kill. I’ll leave the Gemcroft ambush to you.”

Cynric turned and shoved his way through the crowd, not desiring to watch anymore. Thren kept his hands clenched, refusing to be weak. No spectacle would defeat him. He stared at Will’s eyes, hoping that for at least one moment they would meet his. He wanted Will to see Leon’s death in his stare, to see the rage and know that no man, not even a member of the Trifect, could escape it.

After twenty minutes, the gentle touchers brought out their knives. Ten minutes later, Will died. The crowd cheered, thrilled with the spectacle. Their cheers rose when Will’s head rolled off the platform. A few men kicked it about, laughing as if it were all a game. Just before he left the throng, Thren stabbed one in the back and then vanished before anyone even noticed the drunken man was dead.

With so many processions of food and wagons moving westward, Haern had an easy time procuring himself food. He kept his mask over his face, feeling comfortable only with it on. Afterward he found the main hideout for the Spider Guild and scouted for a hiding place. With the whole guild soon to move out, he only needed to follow one to find the rest. One of the nearby homes had a tunnel dug underneath, so Haern crawled in through the window of a finely furnished house opposite.

Thankfully the occupants were long gone, most likely enjoying the festivities. Haern grabbed some pillows from the bed and stretched out across the floor.

His belly full and body aching, his sleep was welcome. He offered a single prayer before closing his eyes, and that was for no dreams. The prayer went unanswered. Haern dreamt of the Lion, snarling at him in fury. When he awoke, cold sweat poured off his body. The wounds from the lion’s roar had reopened and bled anew. Haern re-bandaged them using strips of the cheapest looking shirt he could find, feeling a little guilty as he did. Whoever owned the home would certainly think him the oddest burglar ever.

When he glanced outside, he saw the sun not far from setting. Expecting the bulk of the activity to happen after dark, Haern straightened up, stretched his muscles, and then watched. An hour crawled by, quiet and boring. Just when he began thinking of switching locations, Haern spotted three men in the gray of the Spider Guild exit the front door. They hurried north, their cloaks flapping in the air behind them.

Haern didn’t bother going downstairs. He propped the window halfway open, slid out, and then dashed along the rooftops. The buildings were close enough together that he could follow at a swift pace without any fear of being spotted. For a moment he wished he had the dagger he’d tossed back to the priests of Karak. Whenever it came time to act, he didn’t like the idea of being weaponless. He’d have to find a way to arm himself, and quick.

The three men traveled through the alleys and back corners, avoiding the main roads whenever possible. Haern smiled. If he followed along the ground, it might have been troubling. Up on the rooftops, he took straight paths where they took winding ones. It didn’t take much guesswork to follow them. They were travelling toward the Gemcroft mansion.

With how empty the streets were, Haern picked up occasional snippets of their conversation. Part of him was furious at how freely they talked. Sickness hit his stomach when he thought of how Thren would have punished them if he had known. To think he had loved a man like that. Haern shook his head. Still loved. He couldn’t lie to himself. Thren was a monster, yet still his father. Turning blind eyes toward his feelings would only endanger himself.

“…of a fire,” Haern heard one say.

“Can’t wait myself,” said another.

“What about Beren?”

“Wait until everything’s crazy. Kadish will…”

And then they were too far gone. Haern scrambled about a chimney, leapt over a thin alley, then stopped at his new perch. The expansive Gemcroft mansion stretched out before him on the opposite side of the street. Below him, the three men of the Spider Guild gathered and waited, for what Haern