Chapter 11

“I am so sorry you both have been swept up in all this madness.”

Father was staring at them. Arios could see the pain in his eyes, could hear the struggle in his words. They sat around the table eating the meal Ilaria had prepared them. She sat silently picking at the fish unable to force herself to eat.

“You are too young for such horrors…” He scratched his beard uneasily and then continued, “Tonight does not seem to be the night for it but…when you are ready, I hope you will come to me.” He took their hands in his own. “Let me help guide you through this.”

Arios thought to reassure his father that all was well but when he saw Ilaria’s face the look of shock still etched upon it he lost all words. Instead, he squeezed his father’s hand and hoped he would understand. Ilaria sat, frozen. After some time, she rose abandoning her untouched meal and quickly left the room.

When she had disappeared into her chamber Arios spoke, “She will be well won’t she?”

“Your sister is strong,” replied Father. “But to stumble upon a corpse at that age is no laughing matter. Especially one that had been so desecrated. We must give her time.”

They sat in silence finishing their meal. Even after such a traumatic ordeal Ilaria had still made sure to prepare the evening meal. She had been all alone for hours. He and Father had been swept away by soldiers to the Council House. What must have gone through her mind as she sat alone in their home until well past sundown. But she had not complained. She had not spoken at all. But she had still done her duties. Ilaria was strong, stronger than anyone knew, stronger than him. She would be herself again, he knew it.

Father rose. “I will look in on her before I sleep.” He started to leave but stopped in the doorway and looked back at Arios. “I love you, my son.” He paused searching for the words, “Please…please take care.” Then he disappeared into the hall.

Arios waited. He watched the moon rise high, drifting in and out of storm clouds. When the moon was at its peak he finally stood. Grabbing his cloak, he stepped out into the rain. He made his way towards the Street of Lanterns. It was a place he had been forbidden from entering. It had a dark reputation and Father made sure he knew it. He had never disobeyed that command but all knew of its whereabouts. It was the most infamous street in the Middle Ward.

As he approached the street, he felt his beat quicken. The rain fell steadily on the cobblestone and although the hour was late it was still bright and bustling.

“Arios!” A voice called out to him. And out of the rain appeared Lord Pyragos. Gone were the lavish robes and sparkling plate he wore in the High Ward. Instead, he wore a dark verdant cloak that hid a gray tunic beneath. They were still of fine quality but no one would see him as a lord. Just another wealthy merchant’s son off on a midnight jaunt through the Street of Lanterns.

“Arios, I am glad you have come.” Pyragos looked him over, “You look like this is your first time, that will play to our advantage. Come with me.” He started down the street but stopped and turned back whispering, “Tonight you will call me Elion.”

They walked down the street. Each door lined with lanterns. As customers entered an establishment a barboy would rush out to extinguish a lantern. Some doors were already closed all of their lanterns dark.

At the end of the road was the Saffron Veil. Only one lantern still alight. In its doorway stood a tall woman. She wore a loose-fitting ivory robe. Her face was painted white and her lips a deep red.

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“We are full tonight dears!” She called out as they approached. “You will have better luck further up the street.”

“I still see one lantern lit!” replied Pyragos as they continued towards her.

“The less lanterns the more coin!” She laughed in reply. “You’d be hard pressed to find a man as young as yourself that could afford it.”

Pyragos held out a large golden coin placing it in her hand. “I think you will find that we have coin to spare.” He nodded at her as she slipped it into her robes.

“Gold just like your hair.” She starred at him quizzically, “I have not seen you before. You come in with the soldiers?”

“Not at all. I live in the High Ward, just wanted to try something new.”

“I suppose if you have the coin there is plenty new to be found here. What is your name?”

“You may call me Elion and its not my coin it’s my fathers, but only I know how to spend it.”

The woman’s eyes rose and she started to laugh. I high pitched fluttering sound and her whole body shook with it. “Well Elion, at least you know what you are, Eh? Now who is your friend here?”

“I am Arios.” Then mustering his confidence and raising his voice, “You are very beautiful.”

She smiled gently at him, “First time, is it?”

His face grew red, “Of course not, I—”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” interrupted Pyragos. “I thought I would show him a good time in case things got really bad.”

“A true friend indeed.” The woman knelt down and extinguished the last flame. Returning to her feet she handed a black coin to Pyragos. “When you to get down there make sure to show them this coin. You’ll be taken care of.” She then turned to Arios, “You’ll be just fine, don’t you worry dear.” She winked at him and ushered them through the door and down the stairs.

The lounge was dimly lit. It smelled sweet, of perfume and incense. The air hazy, filled with smoke drifting lazily towards the ceiling. When they reached the last step, a tall, broad man approached them.

“Coin?” He grunted

“Here you are,” replied Pyragos handing him the coin.

The man grunted in response, gesturing for them to follow. He led them threw the crowded lounge. Patrons sat in velvet booths laughing and drinking. All around walked women. Some joined the tables. Others called out enticing men to follow them up one of the many stairways. They wore much tighter robes than Arios had ever seen. Some wore no robes at all. Arios felt his face blush and he could not meet their eyes. Finally, they were at their seats.

As they sat two women approached them. “Not yet ladies,” chuckled Pyragos. “Look at this one here. Frightened as new born lamb. Bring us some wine. When you see him finally at ease then, come and join us.” They smiled, disappearing back in to the crowd.

“I-I wish you would not embarrass me so!” spluttered Arios.

“Arios, you must lean in to it! You are doing exactly as I had hoped. No one will suspect a thing of a of a young man shyly bumbling his way through his first visit to a brothel.” A large bottle of wine and two glasses were placed before them. Pyragos poured the wine. “Here, try to relax.” He raised his glass and downed it. Arios followed suit.

It was much stronger than the wine he drank with Father. He choked it down as Pyragos refilled their cups.

“Arios, what do you see?”

“Nothing yet.”

“We have all night; we will find her.”

They sipped their drinks, watching the crowd.

There were two men arguing over a woman. She sat between as they counted coin, offering larger and larger sums. They spoke for so long that eventually they sank into their seats snoring. The woman took the coin and left with a third man.

“Captain Darios tells me you wish to be a soldier.”

The words startled Arios. “Yes, very much so.”

Pyragos grimaced, “You may feel differently once the siege is over.”

“If anything, my resolve has only grown since the Kyrithon arrived. I cannot stand idly by as others fight to protect me.”

“These are powerful words Arios. Any would be honored to stand beside someone with such conviction.”

“I wonder…” He paused but the drink had made him too bold, “I wonder if I might join your ranks when you leave the city.”

Pyragos grinned, “It seems you are already at ease.” He motioned towards the women from earlier “If when I leave the city that is still your wish. Come to me.”

Arios was elated. There could be no stopping him now. He turned as the women approached. Perhaps he would speak with them. It was only right; he had a part to play here. But as he watched them something caught his eye. Behind them leaning gracefully against the bar counter was a willowy figure. Her black curls braided into a single plait flowed down past her waist. Her face was pale but unpainted and her gray eyes watched the room intently. It was the woman from the Market Hall. The assassin.