The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) (15 page)

“I am not sure I would like serving two masters – remember, I already belong to the Hands.”

“Oh, you misunderstand me,” Forbeck said, brushing aside the argument with a hand. “Stay with the Hands, you could not do better. I am sure you will learn many techniques in their service that will be of great interest to other Shadowmages. We have no dues to pay, and no chores to fulfil, Mr Kane. Our organisation is one of common accord, nothing more. We only have one ultimate directive.”

“Which is?”

“One Shadowmage may never strike at another directly, even if they find themselves on opposing sides of a contract. We have suffered too much in recent years, and to fight among ourselves is folly of the highest order.” At this, Lucius noticed Forbeck throw a quick glance at Adrianna. “The consequences of such an attack must, by necessity, be dire. We take an oath to that effect.”

Lucius was silent for a moment, thoughts churning through his head. He was fairly sure he did not need another level of complication in his life, particularly one that involved the bitter Adrianna. He had continued to think that his stay in the city would be brief, that he would make his money, and then leave to continue his adventures elsewhere. Yet, he had made himself comfortable among the Night Hands and, if he was utterly truthful with himself, he had made no plans to leave in the near future. There was also that hard edge behind Forbeck’s calm exterior that troubled him, and he decided to test his theory.

“You are not going to let me simply walk away, are you?”

Forbeck gave him a grim smile. “You are very perceptive, Mr Kane. We cannot have a rogue Shadowmage at work in this city, risking everything we have worked for so far. Imagine a loose wheel on a wagon – sooner or later, it is going to fall off and bring everything crashing to the ground around it. That’s you.”

“So my choices are what, join you or die?”

“We are not completely cold-blooded, Mr Kane, and we find it repugnant to be forced to attack one of our own. Think of yourself as a troublesome child who would have to be forced out into the wider world for both your safety and our own.”

“Join you or leave, then,” Lucius said flatly.

“Please, do not think of it in those terms,” Forbeck said. “Think of what we can offer you. Support when you most need it, friendship beyond that of thieves. But most of all, training to bring your full potential to light. I was not merely playing you before, Mr Kane. You do have something within you that could be most magnificent. I do not know quite what it is yet, but it will be a fascinating journey of discovery for both of us, I am sure.”

Sighing, Lucius shook his head. “You leave me with little choice. How will this work, then?”

“After taking the Oath of the Shadowmages to never strike directly at another, you will enter my tutelage immediately.”

Beside Lucius, Adrianna gasped in shock. “You cannot be serious!”

“Adrianna–” Forbeck began.

“You don’t know this man, Master,” she said, her voice dark and loaded with menace. “He cannot be trusted – he has already betrayed the guild once!”

“I would remind you that was the former guild,” Forbeck said, before turning back to Lucius. “You must forgive Adrianna. By allowing me to restart your training, you will also be ensuring that you two see a great deal more of one another.”

Lucius caught Adrianna muttering something about seeing him first, but ignored it. He took a breath, wondering what fate he was sealing for himself, and whether he would soon be fighting someone else’s battles.

“Do I have to call you master?” he asked.

Forbeck smiled back wolfishly. “When you feel ready to, Mr Kane. When you feel ready.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

T
HE
H
ANDS WERE
present in force during the next round of collections from the Street of Dogs. What would normally have been accomplished over a few lazy afternoons by lower ranking members who had bought their way in to the protection franchise was now being planned and executed with military precision.

Lucius found himself playing watchman, pacing the street as if he had no cares in the world. In reality, he was keeping a sharp eye out for the two thieves who had just entered a tanner’s workshop to collect the dues owed to the Hands for another week of relative peace. Three others were also on the street keeping watch and, fifty yards up the hill, the operation was being repeated by another team. The intent, Magnus had explained to them all before they had been dispatched from the guildhouse, was to demonstrate a show of force, both to the shopkeepers and any spies from the Guild of Coin and Enterprise who would no doubt be looking for a sign of weakness in any territory that belonged to the Hands.

Thus the morning had passed without event. It was the same routine every time; the collectors went into a shop, storehouse or tavern, took their money and listened to the proprietor’s complaints, then exited, giving those watching a brief nod to announce the visit had gone according to plan. Then they would move on to the next stop. After every dozen collections, the team would leapfrog the one further up the hill and begin the process again. The use of two teams had been suggested by Caradoc, and it served a dual purpose. First, it was a show of force to the Guild, an announcement of the manpower the Hands could field. However, it also would give those under protection less warning that the collection was about to arrive.

As predicted by the Council, the takings for those not directly linked to the franchise, Lucius included, were slim, but most accepted the duty without complaint, realising that this was a time for unity, not argument. It was also an easy role to play, Lucius realised as he stopped briefly outside a wine merchant to casually view the more expensive casks and bottles on display. All part of the act.

For his part, Lucius was grateful for the respite, though not for the early start. He was still considering his meeting earlier in the week with Adrianna and her Master – his now as well, he realised. His relationship with Aidy had clearly soured further when she had learned he was to be taught alongside her, and her venomous looks, split equally between him and Forbeck, made it apparent that she was not going to make life easy for either.

Having taken the oath not to directly harm another Shadowmage, which gave some small comfort in itself considering Adrianna’s disposition, Forbeck had talked briefly with him about his past, his time in the old guild, his family, his reasons for leaving Turnitia, and what he had seen on his travels beyond the city.

After that, Forbeck had disappeared, promising that Lucius would be contacted soon to begin his training. He did not reveal how or when the message would be delivered, and Adrianna had been in no hurry to educate him further. So, it was back to the Hands and a thief’s work.

The two collectors, junior members of the franchise but, on this operation, very much Lucius’ superiors, left the tanners and gave the nod before moving next door to a dressmakers he knew was run by an elderly spinster. From what he had heard in the common room, the collectors would get little real trouble there, but would be forced to endure a lecture that encompassed everything that was wrong with the city, and how the Hands should go about fixing it. He reflected that with such clients on the books, the greater share the collectors were making today would be well earned. Keeping pace with them, Lucius moved his attention to the window of a potter’s shop front, looking over the decoratively painted clay mugs, plates and bowls while trying not to look bored.

He was eventually distracted by movement down the hill. One of the other watchmen lifted a finger in signal, but Lucius had already clocked the danger. The collectors had not yet left the spinster and coming towards the team now was a group of perhaps twenty men. It was the tightness of their gathering that first alerted Lucius, for while friends may travel so closely together, no one walked in such a large group unless they had distinct purpose.

Eyeing the men without looking at them directly, he spotted a few cudgels carried openly, while others sported suspicious looking bulges under their tunics that suggested concealed knives and clubs. He glanced at one of the other watchmen, a young man called Swinherd, who returned the look with a shrug, clearly not knowing how to respond.

It was unlikely that the proprietors of the Street of Dogs had banded together to raise a small army in order to dissuade the Hands from collecting their dues, as the tax was mild enough and Magnus had made sure there was always some tangible benefit to paying; burglaries in the Street of Dogs were quite rare. The Vos guard, if they deigned to get involved in a benign protection racket, would send armoured and uniformed men. That just left the Guild of Coin and Enterprise, and that meant trouble.

While Lucius had yet to learn all the intricacies of the unique sign language used by the Hands, he knew enough to get his general meaning across, and a casual crossing of his hands told the other watchmen to stand ready and make no overt moves. He was gratified to see their assent, and they continued watching as the men approached.

As they moved closer, Lucius realised that they were paying him no attention, but one burly man at their centre nudged another and pointed directly at Swinherd, obviously recognising him as a Hand. As one, the men altered their course and steered directly for him.

To his credit, Swinherd stood his ground, raising his head in acknowledgement as they gathered around him in a semicircle. The first words exchanged were quiet and beyond Lucius’ range of hearing. One of the other watchmen sent a discreet signal, suggesting they move in to support Swinherd, but Lucius shook his head. He guessed that at least some of his fellow thieves had not been recognised either, and while they remained invisible to the Guild men, they retained an advantage, as badly outnumbered as they were. Lucius found himself anxious to move closer, to hear what was being said, but he steeled himself to remain passive and await an outcome.

It all seemed rather amiable, Lucius thought, as he kept a watch out of the corner of his eye, the potter’s wares now completely forgotten. The burly man leading the Guild men kept his hands in plain view as he spoke, and Swinherd was nodding and shrugging as if he were chatting to an old acquaintance. Then things became heated.

The burly man pointed a finger back down the hill, as if ordering Swinherd to leave the street, at which point the young man shook his head in refusal and took a step back. They followed him and men on the flanks began to crowd round, hiding Swinherd from sight as he raised his hands, trying to appease them. Knowing he was about to witness a beating in broad daylight, Lucius gave a quick signal to the other watchers and trotted across the street.

“Swinherd!” he said in greeting as he pushed his way through the tight press of men. Keeping his voice jovial, he also completely ignored the baleful stares that were now being directed his way, and he hoped the other thieves had taken his lead and were just a few paces behind. “We’ve been looking for you. Come, we’ve got work to do, no time to stand and chat with old friends.”

“We’re no friends of that this toe-rag,” growled someone in the crowd.

Lucius kept his eyes fixed firmly on Swinherd, whose gratitude at being rescued was palpable. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

A bearded man took a step to stand directly before Lucius. He held a club low down one leg. “You spineless dog,” he said in a low voice.

“We’ve got no argument with you,” said Lucius, trying hard to put an edge in his voice while ignoring the hostile gazes from the assembled men. “It would be best for all if we went our separate ways.”

The burly man jabbed a finger hard into Swinherd’s chest, though his words were directed at Lucius. “Your time here is over. This street belongs to the Guild now, and we’ll be taking over the collections today.”

“You don’t want to do this,” Lucius said. “This is a fight no one can win.”

He was, of course, referring to a wider war between the two thieves, guilds, but he belatedly realised that such grander thoughts of strategy were likely beyond the men who had been sent to scare them off.

“There’s more of us,” the bearded man piped up again. “I’m thinking we can win this easy.”

“Understand this,” the burly man cut over him. “The Hands are finished. There can only be one Guild in this city, and that’s us. You’ll either join us, or spend the rest of your lives as cripples. Those are your only choices.”