Aldric sat in his private study, safe behind a dozen sealed stone doors. Or so he wished. Shadows were pinned under the steady glow of a dozen crystals, a far cleaner method of illuminating these restricted volumes. For none of them were permitted a second draft. Books lined the walls from ceiling to floor, all written to study a single topic. The dark affinity. Cases of heresy were sprinkled throughout. Hundreds of collected tomes on the nature of Pandora, or her favorite children the hydrae. While there were only three tomes on the nature of umbraquins. So rare that even the word was unknown in two of said books.
Steel tapped against stone.
Tink, tink, -a full second pause-, tink.
It was a simple code. An unnecessary step, for any who could reach this study could not be a foe. Yet it was a welcome adherence to Aldric’s ears. Servants capable of following instructions to the letter were few and far between.
“Enter.” He called, the word resonating through mana saturated fog.
A bookcase slid open a half foot, just wide enough for a slender figure to slip through. By the way it leaned back and squeezed their hips through, Aldric knew it, was a she. Hardly a surprise, Lady Elara Camoys’ agents always seemed to be women. If that was due to some Pandoran ritual or just her preference could not be ascertained.
What could be certain, was her dark affinity. Clothed in dark pants and a darker shirt she presented a leather sack. It was stiff, waterproofed so it wouldn’t leak.
“Sire, we have accomplished your mission.” She said, voice damped by her face covering. And again by her hood.
“Do you always wear a hood indoors?”
“Only in moments of victory.” Said the woman, opening her waterproof sack.
She tilted it, allowing light to reveal its contents. Aldric watched as a panther’s head appeared within, larger than any human’s. The felinids were truly disgusting creatures.
“We uncovered this umbraquin inside your own college. It is but one of several.” She said.
“You should have killed them all!” Snapped Aldric.
“Pay our fee, and we will.”
Aldric scowled at her, wanting to have the woman strung up and vivisected for her insolence. But not now. The assassins of Camoys had a role to play in his designs. One that could not be replaced by any other servant.
“In due time. There are others who require your attention first. Loose ends who cannot be permitted to talk.”
“We’ll accept any targets, just say their names.”
“Former Viscount Alexander Blackwood. He was meant to die, such was his bargain with me. But the ingrate decided he was arrogant enough to think he could make amends.”
“We are aware of Blackwood’s condition. Frankly, he isn’t worth the coin. Blind, deaf, trapped in an obsidian castle during a war? Twould be cheaper to slay Kheresh. Three items from the arcane vaults, the inner vaults, not that circus you call the second vault.” Said the woman, keeping her head low as she tied the bag shut and offered it.
“Inner vaults! You have no idea what is stored there. By Taloc, don’t leave that here. Dispose of that.” Snapped Aldric, weighing just how badly he wanted Blackwood dead.
The man didn’t matter. Not really. To send an assassin after him was overkill. In truth his inquiry had been a test, one that this agent had passed.
“Blackwood is an insignificant target. Add his name to a list of standing targets, I’ll pay a bounty if you slay him, one magical item. Mind you, from the third vault, no deeper! One day soon these portals will pitter out, he must be slain before that occurs. Else his death will be too untimely. I need him to die in a manner that crushes suspicion, not arouse it like a whore.”
Her hood tugged lower, as if concealing her face. Be it an eye roll or a laugh, Aldric couldn’t know. Nor cared. Because her leaning forward gave him a full view of her cleavage. He swallowed, knowing the assassins often used seduction. Both for assassinations and information gathering. General Harrin once rumored that they left their informants alive, but only if the information provided was good…
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“Ahem. You charge a great deal for your services.”
“Of course, we are the best. The least of my assassins is better than the next one hundred competitors. And we do not send our worst on missions.” She knelt as she spoke, careful to keep her hood angled against Aldric.
There really was a skill in keeping her face hidden while being heard.
“Just so I know your highest price, what would it take to slay Pandora’s avatar?”
“Ha! More than the kingdom has to give. Mortals cannot compete with the divine.” She laughed.
“Liam did. How much would it cost to slay him.”
She snorted, “To slay a Lightning Lord? Ten items from your inner vaults. Of our choosing, and paid up front. We’d have to tailor the items to the Lord, and deploy a substantial amount of our resources just to attempt it. Mmmm,” She said, thinking, “Years of prep time as well. Five to ten.”
Aldric nodded. Already knowing he was doomed. Ten years and ‘Lady’ Nyota would kill him. Except, this Camoys was speaking as though there were multiple. Brow knit at that thought.
“There is only one lightning lord, why do you speak as though there are more? Tell me what would be necessary for Lady Nyota’s disappearance.”
“Coin must be offered before information is so freely given. I require a spare blade, one to enhance our dark affinity.”
“You push your station beyond its limits.” Snapped Aldric.
The woman let out a sigh. “Very well, if your spies have failed you so totally, then let it be known that there are now three Lightning Lords upon the earth.”
“Three? HA! PREPOSEROUS!” Roared Aldric, howling with laughter. “Three would mean the end is upon us. Not just for me, but the entire kingdom of Eldarion!”
The woman did not move, nor did she laugh. Only remaining kneeling. A silent Camoys, without her blades. Aldric would have been less threatened if she was holding two naked blades.
“More information requires payment. You have been deceived by this umbraquin and others.”
Laughter ceased so sharply it was as if a switch had snapped shut. Aldric reached into a drawer of the Diospyros desk he sat at. Withdrawing a rod of equally black wood. More a scepter than a staff, but the outcome was all the same.
“This is part of a pair, Grandmaster Renosipe holds the other, speak false and it goes to him.” Snapped Aldric, setting the rod of Pandora’s own construction on the table.
The Agent swallowed. Cheeks betraying a smile.
“A legendary price for equally valuable information. After all, it’ll take time to influence Khereshetal. Where a new Lightning Lord was recently born. As for the third, Lady Nyota Green has passed on her affinity. There is no doubt in any Camoys’ mind that the child of two Lightning Lords will inherit their affinities. In fact, we have them under constant surveillance, as Saint Liam supposedly mastered the affinity of our shadows.”
“Do not think yourselves so potent as to lie to me! Else I will see all your ilk sold as whores or vivisected.” Snaped Aldric, meaning every word.
“Oppose you? Ha, you may put that thought to rest on a bed of magical vaults. No other noble can afford our services.”
With every word, Aldric was liking this woman less. But if she was right… Then he was surrounded by traitors. Grandmaster Renosipe and Lord Bishop Francois Pembroke should have noticed two additional Lightning Lords.
“Swear on it.” Ordered Aldric, tossing the scepter to the woman.
Part of him wished the rod would smack her in the face, toss back her hood. But he was in this thing, as with all others, foiled. Her hand reached up to catch the scepter without her eyes ever revealing themselves. The only glimpse he caught was of her bandaged fingers, as if she were burned so completely that even gloves could not be worn.
“I swear by the mother of darkness, Pandora Serpent of Waters, that I tell no lies. That Lady Nyota Green bears a Lightning Lord in waiting, and a Lightning Lord was born in Khereshetal. Though our spies who seek him out are slain in the night.” Said the assassin.
The oath settled into place, with the assassin breathing easy. Aldri waited for the moment she began to splutter or choke on her words. For unlike Taloc, Pandora slew those who swore on her name, simply for the act of using her name. To survive the oath, one must not only speak the truth, but also have Pandora’s favor. Else there was no mercy, no surviving Lord Bishops, only drowning as the lungs filled with fluid.
“Satisfied?” Asked the woman.
“No, but you speak the truth.” Said Aldric, fighting his eyebrows for his crown. “Judas did not inform me of a Lightning Lord in Khereshetal. Find the lord and offer them a royal peerage. Do this, and you’ll be rewarded.”
The woman bowed deeply.
“As you wish Sire.” Then she stood and slipped out the way she’d come, clutching Pandora’s scepter.
The bookcase slid shut behind her, leaving Aldric in silence. Archbishop Judas had betrayed him. No surprise there, Judas always went on and on about Taloc’s will and Taloc’s intent. Yet when a Lightning Lord stood in front of him he was the first to disobey, and the first to fold.
“A weak bishop? Maybe his spine will stiffen if I promote his son to First Captain of Kheresh. Ha.” Mused Aldric, already reaching for quill and parchment.