Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

Gunter, whose cooking was renowned, but whose priggish attitude was loathed, raised a forefinger and shook it at the mercenary. He got a finger right back, and it wasn’t the forefinger. The men around him howled with laughter, and soon a chorus of bodily noises sang in Gunter’s direction.
    “I think the king should be treated to such skillful musicians,” Alyssa said, laughing in spite of her dour mood. This earned her a chorus of cheerful agreements.
    “A sign of a good leader,” Theo said, sitting on the other side of Yoren. “You inspire love in men, Alyssa. Good things surely await your rule of the Gemcroft estate.”
    “A rule I may never have,” Alyssa said, the naming of her father’s house souring her smile. “But while the sun is setting and the moon rising, let us speak of more certain and happier things, such as the opening of another cask of cider!”
    The mercenaries roared, and when Theo nodded in approval, they cheered.
    “They wouldn’t be so boisterous if they knew what I had planned for them on the morrow,” Theo said, lowering his voice for just the three of them.
    “They would,” Yoren said, “but only after an extra round of drink or two. Keeping them in the dark is cheaper.”
    Theo laughed, and Alyssa laughed along, her mind racing. So far she knew little of what the two men planned. When one of their servant boys returned from the city with news that Laurie Keenan had moved the Kensgold to outside the walls, neither had been upset. In fact, they had seemed almost overjoyed.
    A young servingwoman slipped through the men, doing her best to ignore the few comments she received and the occasional grab at her body.
    “Milord,” she said, bowing to Theo. “The two women are here.”
    Theo sighed.
    “Send them on over.”
    The woman bowed and then hurried away. A minute later two of the faceless stepped into the light of the great bonfire. Neither bowed to Theo Kull upon arrival.
    “Welcome back to my camp,” Theo said. “Next time, please introduce yourself to my guards, not the servingwomen. Shadow-walkers or not, I’d prefer you to follow protocol like every normal human being.”
    “Your women argue less,” said the one on the left. Alyssa recognized her sharp voice as Zusa’s. “They also hold their tongues. Safer for all involved.”
    “That wasn’t a suggestion,” Theo said, his voice hardening. Neither faceless woman reacted.
    “Why are you here?” Alyssa asked, hoping to move the conversation along. She liked having the women nearby. Even though they took payment from the Kulls, they didn’t feel like a part of them. Perhaps she just enjoyed the company of someone not owned by Yoren and his father.
    “We fear for Alyssa’s safety,” said Nava. “We must take her into hiding. Pelarak wants her imprisoned in the temple.”
    “We’ve paid you properly,” Theo said. “Alyssa stays here with us, regardless of what your little priest says.”
    “It’s not wise to tempt Pelarak,” Zusa said. “You are a mouse dancing before a lion.”
    “Only the skull of a lion,” Yoren corrected. “And I dance like a puppet for no one, faceless.”
    Zusa laughed.
    “Pelarak will make you dance,” she said. “Your bones are his toys. Your blood is his drink. Either flee or hide. Here is not safe. Give Alyssa to us.”
    Alyssa dared hope she could go with them. She’d forfeit her entire wealth for just one night away from Yoren and his hands. How she wished to sleep without fear of his rousing in the middle of the night, hungry for what only she could provide. With the faceless women, she would have respite.
    “This is not a discussion,” Theo interrupted. Alyssa felt her hopes dashed to pieces. “I will not hand over…”
    A horn sounded from the north, followed by shouts. Armed intruders were at the edge of the camp. Alyssa looked toward the noise. When she turned back, the faceless women were gone.
    Yoren stood, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword. Theo grabbed his son’s wrist to stop him. All around them mercenaries put down their cups and drew their blades.
    A moment later a man in leather armor came running from the north, sword in hand.
    “Milord,” the man shouted. “He refused to wait, or give us his name. He killed Geoffrey, and he wears the armor of…”
    He stopped when he realized the man had already arrived. The other mercenaries formed a ring around the intruder. The great bonfire burned between him and Theo.
    “Greetings, tax