Epilogue
The darkness was thick that night, moon and stars alike hidden behind the cover of dense rain clouds. The two men waited in the alleyway between the village tavern and the neighboring stable. They wore shabby woolen cloaks not only to ward against the bitter cold, but also to conceal the finer clothing beneath—clothing which revealed them to be far from the common peasants they appeared. Their cowls were pulled low over their faces to obscure their features in the darkness; even this late, the sounds of conversation and drunken singing emanated from the tavern, and both Avery and Jonathon Blackwood were keen to ensure their presence here went unnoticed.
The village rested on the outskirts of Lord Everdeen’s territory, approximately midway between his estate and Blackwood Manor, making it ideally suited for Avery’s purposes. Most of the inhabitants worked either on the surrounding farms, tending to livestock or crops, while the more adventurous among them were employed by Lord Everdeen as tree-fellers or lumber merchants in his lucrative timber business. The tavern had no shortage of patrons, especially on a winter’s night such as this, the common people gathering in the warmth to drink and play games of chance, trading gossip and tall tales long into the wee hours.
Avery had been eyeing the robust community covetously for many years, itching to add it to his own territory.
Though the appointed time for their rendezvous—midnight, the hour most appropriate for such a shadowy, clandestine meeting—had passed some time ago, Avery and Jonathon continued waiting in silence. Ordinarily, Avery would have preferred sending his advisor or one of his guard captains on such an assignment, but from his previous dealings with Bastion the Cat he knew better than to send an intermediary. The alleyway reeked slightly with the pungent aromas of vomit and urine, and every now and again came the sound of a low growl from the occasional stray dog, or a burst of raucous laughter from within the tavern.
Eventually, Jonathon sidled closer and whispered, “How much longer are we going to wait? This place stinks and it’s freezing out here. Where is he?”
Avery looked at his son with an irritated scowl, hearing the impatience in Jonathon’s voice but also detecting an underlying hint of trepidation. Jonathon may have had the intelligence and mercantile skills needed to run the family operations competently, but Avery was coming to realize he lacked the ruthlessness and cunning that would be necessary if he wanted to advance quickly in the noble hierarchy of the Heartland. He had hoped that by including his coddled son in his current plans, Jonathon might gain some much needed experience in the more subtle, underhanded tactics required by those who aspired to greater power and influence in the kingdom. Avery surveyed the empty main thoroughfare of the village. “Be patient, son, he’ll be here. We can’t expect a man of his ilk to hold a strict timetable.”
“You should have sent the guard captain in our place. A meeting like this…it’s beneath us.”
“I’ve employed the Cat’s services several times over the years, and he strictly refuses to meet with intermediaries. I think he just enjoys holding the upper hand when dealing with nobles…likes to make us get our boots good and dirty if we want his help. But I’d rather hire a cautious cut-throat than a stupid one, and mud washes off.”
A voice, both gravelly and nasal, answered from the shadows at the rear of the ally, startling them both. “Smart man, ye father is, boy. Ye shouldn’t be afraid to get yer ‘ands a little dirty. Has a way of keepin’ a fella humble.” A tall figure detached itself from the shadows and stepped closer, moving with a smooth, feline grace.
“You’re late,” Avery said, making sure the simple statement conveyed his displeasure.
Bastion the Cat offered a gap-toothed grin and an unrepentant shrug as he circled around them. “Yer forgiveness, Lordship, but nothin’ betrays an ambush quite like waiting in the piss and rain a couple extra hours. I ‘ad to be sure ye came alone.”
Avery noted the glint of steel revealed at the man’s hip when his cloak blew up. “I left our escort waiting outside of town, as promised.”
“I saw ‘em. Didn’t seem like they was too happy to be left out in the cold dark…heard ‘em moanin’ from a hunnerd paces.”
“Well we won’t waste anymore of your time,” Avery said, not trying to mask the contempt in his tone. Bastion was as low-born a bastard as ever walked the earth, but sometimes it was useful to have allies in the gutter. Reaching to his belt, he retrieved a hefty velvet pouch and held it up, shaking it so the coins inside clinked together. The Cat licked his lips greedily, but Avery wagged a finger when he stepped forward to claim the purse. “Not so fast, my friend. I trust you’ve fulfilled your end of our deal?”
“No trouble, Lordship, all’s arranged. Plenty’a men out there willing to slit a throat for the promise of gold…even if the throat ‘appens to belong to the Scion. Got a lad set up watching the camp as we speak, keepin’ an eye on ‘is target. Good fighter, he is, an’ eager to make a reputation for ‘imself.” He paused, his expression turning suspicious. “Now mind, ye made it clear it don’t matter if my boy gets his blade wet. Those Jaharri fight like fury’s, an’ I can’t promise he’ll put the bitch down.”
“Of course, of course,” Avery said, waving his concern aside. He tossed the purse to Bastion. “Just be sure you tell him it’s Lord Everdeen who’s weighting his palm with coin. If he fails to kill the Scion, he must have no other name to offer them when they torture him for information. And if he’s killed rather than captured, we have this.” Avery gestured for his son, and Jonathon stepped forward to present the rogue with a rough, heavy sack.
Taking it and looking inside, the man’s forehead crinkled in confusion. “Armor?”
“Note the design…the tree and crossed labrys insignia. That armor will mark your assassin as Richard’s man in the event he is slain. Be sure he wears it.”
The rogue gave a callous chuckle. “Reckon should do the trick.” He offered a jaunty bow which struck Avery as slightly mocking. “I’d best be on me way, then, Lordship. Ye’ll be recievin’ word o’ how it turns out in a few days, I ‘spect.”
Avery watched from the corner of the alley as his hired help strode down the muddy road and disappeared into the night.
“You’re certain this plan will work, aren’t you, father? We risk annihilation if we are discovered.”
Avery stifled a sigh. “Our hand in this will never be detected. The Jaharri are already focused on Everdeen; it’s doubtful they’d question him sending an assassin to put down his precious daughter’s desert bride. The Scion isn’t smart enough to look beyond her own hatred of the man to see the truth…and she has no understanding of the subtleties of civilized government.”
Jonathon didn’t appear convinced, but he at least kept his misgivings silent. “So, what do we do now?”
“The die is cast; we wait to see what profit our gamble makes us. Even if our low-born friend fails, the Jaharri savages aren’t likely to require additional incentive to attack Everdeen. What evidence will he be able to offer to prove his innocence? But even if he can placate them and keep his pathetic truce from breaking down, tensions can only escalate from here.”
“What if the Scion forces his hand? Everdeen may relinquish Dae back to the desert filth to save his own skin…and if he does, our opportunity will slip through our fingers.” Jonathon’s eyes took on a harder light, and Avery was pleased to see it. “We should just send a man to take care of the little slut. If she’s dead, nothing will stop the inevitable bloodshed.”
“No.”
Jonathon’s expression instantly turned petulant, and he struggled visibly to keep his voice from rising. “Why not? She’s the common link between Richard and the Jaharri; sever her life and they’ll fall upon each other like ravening wolves!”
“I said, no.” Avery stated firmly. “There are easier ways that involve far less risk of discovery.”
“You would show her mercy after how she insulted me?” Jonathon’s hands clenched into fists, and even in the meager light spilling from the tavern his face was visibly flushed. “I want that harlot bitch to suffer! I want her dead!”
“Kill Dae, and we risk exposing ourselves,” Avery explained. “Everdeen may hate the Scion, but he won’t believe for a moment that she’d put Dae in harm’s way. And the Scion may be a savage, but how likely do you think she’d be to believe Dae’s own father would put her to death? Think, boy! We need to incite a credible conflict if we hope to keep our enemies focused on each other. Dae is the common link, as you say…which is precisely why we can’t strike against her.” Jonathon opened his mouth to argue further, and Avery quickly forestalled his words. “When this is all over, Dae will watch as her beloved ‘wife’ is slaughtered…and if we’re lucky, her father will perish on an avenging Jaharri blade. Let her taste the full bitterness of the poison before we put an end to her suffering.”
Jonathon considered his words a long moment, his expression relaxing. “Fine. But how do we ensure the Jaharri attack if Richard keeps the peace?”
“Attacking the Scion and framing Everdeen isn’t our only option…she’s simply the more accessible target. If the Jaharri won’t attack, we can always turn the tables and see how Richard’s men react when their Lord is struck down by the desert barbarians.”
A malicious smile twisted Jonathon’s lips. “No more than the soldiers would expect from the backstabbing bandits who invaded the kingdom…and all the more sorrow for Everdeen’s bitch.”
Avery turned so his son wouldn’t see his look of consternation; unaccustomed to having his masculinity questioned by a beautiful woman, Jonathon was still rankling from Dae’s humiliating remarks. It was a petty, self-indulgent grudge which Avery considered a weakness, for it prevented Jonathon from understanding the bigger picture here. The Houses of Blackwood and Everdeen had been rivals for several generations, and Avery had hoped to absorb Richard’s lands and wealth with the marriage of his son to Everdeen’s admittedly gorgeous daughter. When that plan had fallen apart, however, Dae’s insulting remarks and the incursion of the Jaharri army presented a new, and perhaps even more satisfying, means of seeing his enemy brought to heel. But all Jonathon could think about was his own wounded ego.
Although such rivalries between the lords of the kingdom were common, they were also carefully monitored by the King. Gerald’s own great-grandfather had once been a lesser noble under a different line of monarchs, before he conquered his most powerful fellows and acquired sufficient might to depose his ruler and assume the throne. Though Gerald rarely interfered with the petty squabbles of his lords, he remained mindful of his heritage, always watching for potential usurpers. If he ever learned what Avery was up to, if he discovered the House of Blackwood was antagonizing the Jaharri in order to destroy Everdeen, his reprisal would be swift and brutal.
This conflict between Lord Everdeen and the Scion was a unique opportunity which Avery intended to capitalize on. The spark of hostility simply needed a warming breath to ignite it at the right moment…and when it was all over, Blackwood could quietly expand his territory and increase his holdings without drawing increased scrutiny from the King.
Giving the streets of the village a final look to ensure they remained empty, Avery gestured for his son to follow him. “Come. We should be on our way before our presence is detected. No sense loitering in this squalid mire any longer than we must.”
With their cowls drawn low over their faces, they left the alley and began making their way out the village. It was a long ride back to the Blackwood estate, and their escort wouldn’t wait much longer before they came looking for them.
The End.