Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

promises, threats, bribes, and even assassinations to bring about the leaders he needed. As a united presence, he thought even the Trifect would be reluctant to challenge their strength.”
    The old man opened his book, which turned out to not be a book at all. The inside was hollow, containing some hard cheese and dried meat. It took all of Aaron’s willpower to keep from lunging for the food. From his short time with his teacher, he knew such a rash, discourteous action would be rebuked.
    “Take it,” Robert said. “You have honored me well with your attention.”
    Aaron didn’t need to be told twice. The old man rose to his feet and walked to the door.
    “I will return,” he said. His fingers brushed over a slot in the wall, too fast for Aaron to see. He heard a soft pop, and then a tiny jut of metal sprung outward. Robert slid the torch through the metal, fastening it to the wall.
    “Thank you,” Aaron said, thrilled to know the torchlight would remain.
    “Think on this,” Robert said. “Eight years ago, your father united the guilds. Five years ago, war broke out between them and the Trifect. What caused your father’s failure?”
    The door opened, bright light flooded in, and then the old man was gone.
    Thren was waiting for Robert not far from the door. They were inside a large and tastefully decorated home. Thren leaned against the wall, positioned so he could see both entrances to the living room.
    “You told me the first session was the most important,” Thren said, his arms crossed over his chest. “How did my son perform?”
    “Admirably,” Robert said. “And I do not say so out of fear. I’ve told kings their princes were brats with more snot than brains.”
    “I can hurt you worse than any king,” Thren said, but his comment lacked teeth.
    “You should see Vaelor’s dungeon sometime,” Robert said. “But yes, your son was intelligent and receptive, and most importantly, he let go of his anger for being subjected to the room’s darkness once I told him it wasn’t a punishment. A few more torches and I’ll give him some books to read.”
    “The smoke won’t kill him, will it?” Thren asked as he glanced at the door.
    “There are tiny vents in the ceiling,” Robert said as he hobbled toward a chair. “I have done this a hundred times, guildmaster, so do not worry. Due to the isolation, his mind will be craving knowledge. He’ll learn to master his mind, which I’ll hone sharper than any dagger of yours. Hopefully when his time with me is done, he will remember this level of focus and mimic it in more chaotic environments.”
    Thren pulled his hood over his face and bowed.
    “You were expensive,” he said. “As the Trifect grows poorer, so do we.”
    “Whether coin, gem, or food, a thief will always have something to steal.”
    Thren’s eyes seemed to twinkle at that.
    “Well worth the coin,” he said.
    The guildmaster bowed, turned, and then vanished into the dark streets of Veldaren. Robert tossed his cane aside and walked without a limp to the far side of the room. After pouring himself a drink, he sat down in his chair with a grunt of pleasure.
    He expected more time to pass, but it seemed people had gotten more impatient as Robert grew older. Barely halfway into his glass, he heard two thumps against the outside of his door. They were his only warning before the plainly dressed man with only the barest hints of gray in his hair entered the living room. His simple face was marred by a scar curling from his left eye to his ear. He did his best to hide it with the hood of his cloak, but Robert had seen it many times before. The man was Gerand Crold, who had replaced Robert as the king’s most trusted teacher and advisor.
    “Did Thren leave pleased?” Gerand asked as he sat down opposite Robert.
    “Indeed,” Robert said, letting a bit of his irritation bleed into his voice. “Though I think that pleasure would have faded had he seen the king’s advisor sneaking into my home.”
    “I was not spotted,” the man said with an indignant sniff. “Of that, I am certain.”
    “With Thren Felhorn you can never be certain,” Robert said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now what brings you here?”
    The advisor nodded toward a door. Beyond it was the room Aaron remained within.
    “He can’t hear us, can he?” Gerand asked.
    “Of course not. Now answer my question.”
    Gerand wiped a hand over his clean-shaven face and let his tone harden.
    “For a man