Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

anger loose. It wouldn’t be long before the hungry and destitute made their way north into the rest of the city. If Thren’s spies outside the walls were correct, Laurie Keenan and his family would be making their grand return to the city sometime that afternoon. Hunger riots, jobless sellswords, and overeager castle soldiers demanding taxes were one fantastic greeting.
    Laurie would get the message immediately: Thren controlled the city, not he. If everything went according to plan, the slaughter during the Kensgold would send an even stronger message.
    “Sir,” shouted Kayla, hurrying after him. He was on his way to his son’s room, wanting the boy to accompany him on a routine collection of protection money from the merchants still active amid the riots. Given the circumstances, he was certain they’d be eager for all the protection they could get.
    “I am no sir,” Thren said as he turned. “I am no knight, and no noble.”
    “Sorry,” Kayla said as she slowed to a walk. “I’m not sure what to say that would be seen as respectful.”
    Thren gave her a look of honest confusion.
    “What could be more respectful than my own name?” he asked.
    “Right,” Kayla said. “Anyway, we still have no word from Will.”
    “He’s been gone far too long,” Thren said as he resumed his walk down the hall. “Taking Gerand’s wife shouldn’t have been difficult, not for someone as skilled as him. I doubt any mercenaries could capture him, not alive anyway. If Will is in hiding, he has a reason, and I’m sure he’ll…”
    He opened the door to his son’s room and took a step inside. Aaron was on his knees, his hands clasped together underneath his chin. His elbows rested on the side of his bed. His eyes were closed, though they snapped open at Thren’s sudden entrance.
    Thren’s jaw dropped. Hanging from a silver chain looped around Aaron’s fingers was a golden pendant of Ashhur.
    Before anyone could react, Thren slammed the door shut, spun, and struck Kayla with his fist. As she slumped to the ground, he shouted for his men. The mansion was large, but even so, gray cloaks rushed toward him in seconds.
    “Where’s Senke?” he shouted as the men stared with a mixture of confusion and curiosity at Kayla slumped on the floor, holding her cheek with a stony expression upon her face.
    “Here,” Senke said, pushing his way to the front of the men.
    “Find Cregon,” Thren said. “I’ll need his spells. And you two,” he said, pointing, “find Robert Haern and bring him to my room. Kayla too. I want them bound tight.”
    Thren reopened the door to Aaron’s room. Aaron sat on the bed. The amulet lay beside him, as if he knew hiding it would be a pointless gesture. Thren stepped inside, grabbed the amulet, and then beckoned to his son to follow.
    Aaron walked down the halls a step behind his father, feeling his heart race. His stomach roiled as he tried to think of what punishment awaited him. Robert had given him the pendant. Kayla had encouraged him to rebel. There was also the matter of Delysia and Dustin. While he had run off to protect Delysia, Thren had sent for him. So far he had not demanded an explanation for his absence. Now it looked like the matter would soon explode in his face.
    “Keep your mouth shut until I ask you a question,” Thren said as they walked.
    If there was anything Aaron was good at, it was keeping silent. He nodded.
    They took a long, looping path toward Thren’s room. Aaron realized his father was buying time, most likely wanting whatever he had ordered prepared ready by the time they entered. The thought was hardly comforting. He felt like throwing up. He’d made a mistake, a stupid one at that. Only twice before had he prayed to Ashhur, and both times he’d felt a combination of silliness and embarrassment. Afterward he’d remembered the way Delysia had prayed when he stood unseen before her. Whatever he was doing was not the same, he felt it in his gut.
    So he’d tried again, this time because he’d heard no word either way on whether or not she’d lived. And now he might have endangered her life. If Thren tortured him, he’d talk. He held no delusions about that. Once Thren knew where she was, she would die. Gods damn it all, how could he have messed up so badly?
    “Remember, I do this for your own good,” Thren said when they finally arrived at his room. Two men stood guard before it, bowing respectfully as they passed through.
    Inside the room