Free The Cost of Betrayal by David Dalglish Page B

said. “I will explain in time.”
    The big half-orc shrugged. “If you say so.”
    Qurrah put his back to him and stared at the wall. His thoughts never left Tessanna, even when he slipped into the world of dreams.

    M y dear Eschaton, we have ourselves a beauty of a task,” Tarlak said to the collected mercenaries of the tower. They grouped together on the first floor, the two females sprawled across the couches, the men sitting unhappily on the floor, except for Haern, who haunted the stairs leading upward.
    “How’s the pay?” asked Brug.
    “No pay for this one. Charity stuff here.” Tarlak scratched his goatee, his eyes glancing over to Haern. “We do this one for the Watcher.”
    “Not to sound dumb, but who is this Watcher?” Aurelia asked. The yellow wizard turned to her and beamed.
    “I would gladly tell you, my dear-”
    “I am,” Haern whispered, interrupting him. “I keep the thief guilds in line.”
    Both half-orcs glanced at him with shocked faces.
    “You’re the Watcher?” Harruq said. “Holy orcbutt, no wonder you beat me so bad.”
    “Holy orcbutt?” Delysia asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Harruq shrugged.
    “Got the point across.”
    “So now I know who the Watcher is,” Aurelia said. “But how exactly do you keep the thief guilds in line?”
    “Lovely Aurelia, do you have no knowledge of how the guilds operate in Veldaren?” Tarlak asked.
    She shook her head.
    “Who wants to inform the girl?” Tarlak asked the crowd.
    “Twelve years ago,” Haern began, “the noble families in Veldaren declared war on the thief guilds. After five years of mercenaries roaming the streets and nobles bleeding out in the night, they made a truce. The nobles would pay the thief guilds what they were paying the mercenaries. In return, they gained protection, and not just for their homes, but the entire city. Five guilds accepted, and the rest were eradicated. Odd as it sounds, the thief guilds protect their territory, and only the poorest of streets are left to a few vagabond burglars.”
    “So you have no crime here?” Aurelia asked. “A miracle.”
    “We have crime, my lady elf,” Haern whispered, “just no robbery. Murder and rape are another matter.”
    “Many thieves want to return to the days of old,” Tarlak added. “They feel like bodyguards now, bottom rate sentries. The number of members in each guild has doubled and tripled, with each member getting a smaller and smaller cut. Only guildmasters make a luxurious living. This leads me into our wonderful surprise for tonight.”
    He cleared his throat and grinned at everyone.
    “Guildmaster Thren Felhorn of the Spider Guild is to supposedly be assassinated tonight.”
    “Supposedly?” Brug said.
    “I say supposedly for I believe it a trap. All of you need to be on your toes. The largest obstacle to returning to the days of old is not the guildmasters. It is our dear friend, Haern. Those who speak out against the current system have a way of not waking up. Isn’t that right, oh wise and all-knowing Watcher?”
    “Get on with it,” Haern said.
    “Right. My informant claimed that Thren is meeting a higher up of the Shadow Guild, about what is irrelevant, inside an old warehouse owned by the Spider Guild. I want half of you inside that building, the other half out and around. We’ll hide best we can. If it is a trap, leave one or two of them alive. It’s hard to make dead people talk.”
    “But not impossible,” Qurrah said. All eyes went to him. He had seemed mentally absent the whole meeting, and had not previously spoken.
    “I take it conversing with dead is a hobby of yours?” Tarlak asked.
    “I consider it a profession. The dead talk same as the living, and the dead can’t lie.”
    Brug made a show of throwing up his hands and rolling his eyes. “Wonderful people you brought into our fold, Tar.”
    “Shut up, Brug. I’ll leave it up to you all, then. Kill if you want, but let’s not be sloppy or stupid.”