Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

pushed the woman out of the way and then stood before Gerand with his arms crossed. He frowned down at Gerand. Death was in his eyes.
    “Do you know who I am?” Thren asked.
    “I do,” Gerand said, doing his best to sound brave. How many times had he belittled Thren to the other nobles, even the king? He took every word back. Gods damn it all, where were his guards?
    “Do you know why I’m here?” Thren asked.
    Again Gerand nodded.
    “I believe I do,” he said.
    “Kayla, could you hand me his rapier, please?”
    The woman retrieved the sword and handed it hilt-first to Thren.
    “Thank you,” Thren said as he quickly inspected the blade. “Solid craftsmanship, if a bit on the self-indulgent side. A man could live for a month on what this single ruby in the hilt would fetch him. I’ve known of you for some time, Crold. Your family line has been as decadent and pointless as the hilt of your rapier. Always aspiring to be bootlickers and ass kissers, never to be leaders.”
    Thren drew one of his short swords and held it in front of Gerand’s face.
    “You see this?” he asked. “Plain, but well made. Nothing beyond the necessary. You have forgotten you are a tool, Gerand Crold, and nothing more. To pretend to be something else can lead to … dangerous circumstances. Tell me, my dear advisor to the king, which would you rather be pierced by: my short sword, or your rapier?”
    Gerand glanced between the two blades.
    “My rapier,” he said.
    “A good choice,” said Thren before stabbing Gerand in the chest with it. He made sure to hit nothing vital, just the meat near the shoulder. Gerand choked down his pain as blood spilled across the violet of his robes.
    “People will always fear me over you,” said Thren. “That is why I am more powerful than you, more powerful than the Trifect, more powerful than even the king. I will not have you interfering in my affairs. You play games, I deal in blood, and my son is not one of your pieces!”
    Son!
thought Gerand.
He’s here because of his son? Not his plan for the Kensgold?
    The blood drained from Gerand’s face. Suddenly there were multiple reasons for Thren to kill him. He hoped the torture would not last long.
    “He looks like he’s going to pass out,” Kayla said.
    Thren twisted the rapier, flaring pain in all directions throughout Gerand’s body.
    “I should kill you,” Thren said. “But I won’t. You are too useful to me where you are. I want the Trifect humiliated. You are in a position to do that for me, Gerand. Your word is the king’s word in all stately matters. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
    Gerand nodded.
    “I understand,” he said. “I hold no allegiance to the Trifect. I can do as you ask.”
    Thren chuckled.
    “You can, but will you? Once I’m gone, how do I know you’ll keep your word?”
    “Hostages work wonders,” said Kayla, right on cue.
    They both paused so Gerand could understand the meaning of their words. The advisor looked back and forth between them, the whole while his heart sinking.
    “You have Martha,” he said.
    “So he can think after all,” said Kayla.
    “I have not taken her yet,” Thren said as he pulled the rapier out of Gerand’s chest. He acted as if he were about to sheath it, then instead pushed its bloodied tip against Gerand’s throat.
    “But I know where you hid her. I’ll have eyes on her every day until the Kensgold ends. You try anything, to sneak her out, or bring extra guards, and I’ll make you suffer. You do as I say, or I’ll make sure every member of my guild has a turn with her. Doesn’t matter how hard you try to hide her, or protect her. In time she will be ours. Have I made myself clear?”
    “Perfectly clear,” Gerand said in a voice suddenly grown raspy and weak.
    “Your orders are simple,” Kayla said as Thren backed off and tossed the rapier atop the bed. “The flood of mercenaries for the Kensgold should be arriving any day now, if they haven’t already. Among them will be massive caravans of wine, food, and dancers. Tax them all. Heavily.”
    “But the Trifect will be…”
    Gerand stopped, realizing how stupid his complaint was. Kayla caught it and laughed.
    “That’s the point,” she said. “Everyone they hire will demand more to compensate for the tax. Next, you will pass a law forbidding more than fifty mercenaries to be gathered together in any one area, event, or function.”
    “Call it an attempt to secure peace,” Thren