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Lord Storm Nattas
The long knives & two nights of summer
Part II
-You’ve run out of witnesses-
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Getting into the city before dawn was an ordeal unto itself. Secundus led their group around the walls of the city in the pitch dark, towards West Gates and the road leading to Aldenport. Canus Betto served there and let them through without much discussion. They hurried inside, crossing empty streets towards the cheaper neighborhoods built around Alden’s internal moat and its guarded drawbridges and stopped in front of a two story inn, decent-looking for the region, thought Storm.
“Molten Cherry,” Nattas murmured, reading the label, before walking in, Secundus and the Assassins right behind him. “Did Sudi, pick this?” He probed, but then he saw Zizel Verano waiting for them, dressed in a simple yellow summer dress, with a modest neckline and took a deep breath, before stopping a meter from her.
“I won’t bite Lord Nattas,” Zizel said, adding with a well-practiced smile. Her makeup perfect. “Unless you wish me to.”
“Hmm,” Maja hummed, standing on his right shoulder. “A working girl, can she be trusted?”
Lena Verano, narrowed her painted eyes. “I don’t have the pleasure—”
“She’s my daughter,” Storm cut in, as they were on a tight schedule. “Sudi has vouched for her,” The latter he said to a snickering Maja.
At least Nattas, hoped his man had, else they were all going to have their heads chopped off real soon, at the very least.
“I had to close down,” Zizel explained to them as they found tables to sit inside, Secundus leaving a man to guard the door outside.
“How bad is it?” Storm asked and watched as Ard helped himself to a bottle of wine and came back with a couple of bronze cups for them. Filled them up and then took the bottle with him and walked to where Griet had made herself comfortable.
“Girls knew about it, the day before,” Zizel said, with a glance at Maja, the assassin’s black leather vest and pants, not to mention the two weapon harnesses, distracting. “So we didn’t get in too much trouble.”
Naossis minds for her whores, turns around and leaves their most devout customer, to the goddamn wolves!
“I will rent out the whole place,” Storm told her and Lena Verano smiled. “I hope you’re empty.”
“Not anymore,” she replied.
“Good.”
“I didn’t know you were married, Lord Nattas.”
“Mother died in childbirth,” Maja answered. “Papa wanted my presence to remain a secret,” Storm glanced at her, caught sight of her tongue playing with an incisor, her left hand resting on his cock and frowned. “For security reasons.”
“Must’ve been very young,” Zizel retorted, looking at them both over the table.
“Aye, she was,” Storm replied, Maja nails running down his thigh distracting. “Maja got her looks… she got her mother’s looks.”
Fuck.
Dammit!
“Evidently,” Lena Verano noted and got up. “I will leave you to it then, Lord Nattas.”
“Our presence here, must remain a secret as well,” Storm warned her.
“Of course, milord,” Zizel replied and walked away.
“Let’s do her,” Maja whispered. “There are miles on that and plenty of knowledge.”
Storm licked his lips, reached and removed her claw from his thigh and placed it on the table. Maja touched mid-finger and thumb making an oval circle and staring at him brought it to her mouth, stuck that wicked tongue through it.
Nattas gulped down nervously, his cock stirring in his pants.
“There is gossip,” he told her, keeping his voice low. “And then there is outrage.”
Other than that, it was a splendid suggestion.
“Wow,” Maja gasped and pulled away. “You’re right. Let’s talk about murdering people instead.”
Whether it was sardonic, or just excitement, Storm couldn’t tell.
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“Vitalis must go,” Maja suggested casually and got a parchment out, placed it in front of a perturbed Storm and then looked about her with a cute frown.
“What do you think, mister Sorex?” Nattas asked, staring at the blank parchment and then at Maja.
“Well, the commander of the guard, is a devout follower of Uher, Milord,” the man replied and Lord Nattas nodded in solemn understanding, as if he’d just named him a murderer.
“Right,” Storm said and looked to his left, where Ard had placed quill and inkpot for him. He took the quill and wrote the name down. “Who is the next in command?” He asked, when he finished.
“Let me work on this,” Maja said and took the parchment from him.
Secundus frowned thinking about his query. Sudi appeared at the door of the inn, paused to have his eyes adjust and walked in, using one of Storm’s old canes as a helper. The irony not lost on Lord Nattas.
“I wouldn’t know milord,” Secundus replied.
“Know what?” Sudi asked coming to stand at their table, the rest of the inn empty.
“We were discussing the loyalty of the city guard,” Storm explained.
Sudi nodded, his eyes jumping from Lord Nattas to Maja and ogling when he realized who she was. A grimace marred his pale face and opened his mouth to out her, in front of Secundus, the other hand dropping to his waist looking for his blade.
“Mister Sorex,” Storm said sharply getting up and putting his good hand on Sudi’s shoulder.
“Milord?”
“Kindly wait outside,” he told him.
“It’s her!” Sudi snarled, anger in his eyes and Storm dug his fingers in his shoulder.
“Not now, Sudi,” he warned him.
“Why… what?” His man protested.
Secundus frowned.
“Mister Sorex,” Storm repeated sternly.
“Aye, Milord,” the man replied and turned heel to go and wait outside the inn.
Storm sighed and sat down, reaching for a cup of wine.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Sudi hissed, the moment Secundus was out of the door.
“Hello, Sudi,” Maja said sugary, much to his man’s chagrin. “It was an accident.”
“You almost killed me you bitch!” Sudi snarled and tried to smack her with his cane, Griet, standing right behind him, putting a hand on it to stop him.
“What?” Sudi gasped, turning to glare at the Issir woman. “The fuck are you?”
“Don’t kill him,” Maja ordered her and Storm rolled his eyes.
“Sudi, take a seat,” he told his man. “Calm down and have a drink.”
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“You hired her?” Sudi gasped, looking sick. That is more than before. Storm sighed, his hand hurting too much to remain patient for much longer.
“I did,” he replied. “Henceforth, we’ll refer to her, as my daughter in front of the men.”
“Your daughter?” Sudi croaked, glaring at the assassin.
“He’s currently involved with another woman,” Maja explained the reason for it and Storm almost drown in his own spit, coughing up a lung in the attempt to recover.
“He is?” Sudi frowned and stared at him, then towards the bar. Zizel fortunately wasn’t there.
“Not her,” Maja said, looking in his lackey’s face for clues. “Someone else.”
Of for fuck’s sake, Storm thought.
“Enough!”
“Chief I formally protest the hiring of this murderous wench,” Sudi said, sounding hurt. Maja smacked her lips, reached inside a pocket in her vest, pulled a small vial out and placed it on the table in front of him. “Fuck is this?” Sudi snarled, with a grimace.
Storm would like to know as well.
“A cure, for the poison,” she explained.
“It will heal him?” Nattas asked her intrigued and went to examine it more closely, but Sudi snatched it out of the table, before he could.
“What about the damage done?” Sudi asked, grinding what few teeth he’d left.
Maja shrugged her shoulders. “What’s done is done,” she said simply.
No teeth, or hair back, Storm translated with a wicked grin and sat back on his chair. A jolt of pain from his hand wiping it off of his face.
“I can’t tell if she’s telling the truth,” Sudi exclaimed.
“She saved my life,” Storm said. “Drink the potion.”
They were running out of time.
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“Will the guard intervene?” Sudi asked, a frown on his face and a lot more green on his cheeks.
“You alright there?” Storm probed.
“Shit tasted like vomit,” his man explained and dry-retched, holding on to the table.
“Right. On that note,” Nattas continued. “How do we learn, who is next in line in case Captain Vitalis goes missing?”
There was no translation needed for the last part.
“The city guards’ headquarters building,” Sudi croaked, looking worse for wear. Storm glanced towards Maja and she shrugged her shoulders, giving it fifty-fifty chances.
“That won’t work,” Nattas decided and pouted his lips thoughtfully. Maja started writing on the parchment. One name after the other.
“What happens if Betto is the last man… standing?” Storm queried, realizing what she was doing.
Sudi puffed his pale cheeks out. “Ye mean, what happens…” He blinked, took a deep breath in and stared at Storm. “How are we going to explain that?”
Storm sat back on his chair and reached for his cup of wine. Washed his mouth with some and then he swallowed.
“Rot,” he said gravely, looking at his injured hand. “Has spread. Hard measures were taken.”
Sudi sighed, tongue touching the gap in his teeth.
“What if they don’t buy it?”
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“We make sure the ears left to listen, are favorably inclined.”
“Canus Betto,” Sudi replied, scratching his right brow with a thumb. “There’s eight captains in the city guard, seven afore him let’s say. Taking no chances for a fuck up.”
Storm grunted, Maja frowned and looking at her notes, started scribbling down simple numbers, after she run out of names she knew.
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“But is Gordian there?” Storm insisted, an hour into their meeting, a second bottle of wine opened and Sudi looking much better, either because the potion took hold, or from the effects of the wine.
Nattas gave it even odds.
“Two buildings adjacent to the Dome are being used from the Order. Gordian uses one to sleep, but spends a lot of time inside there as well,” his man explained, Secundus grunting in agreement. The rigid hired-blade had returned inside in the meantime.
“Sir Reus?” Storm queried.
“He’s there.”
“How many?” Maja asked and Secundus raised a thick brow. The assassin turned and offered him a sugary glance. Storm frowned, Secundus caught him looking in turn and cleared his throat embarrassed.
“Around sixty, milord,” he replied, a little red in the face.
“Where’s the rest of them?” Storm grunted, seeing Maja’s naughty grin.
“Patrolling the inner walls.”
That was a problem, Storm thought.
“How many men can we bring in?”
Sudi grimaced. “Secundus has ten waiting outside.”
“Not ours, not right away,” Storm stopped him.
“I’ve talked with the lads at Aldenport,” his man said, rubbing his stomach with a hand.
Nattas stilled his eyes on him, keeping his tongue.
“Yeah,” Sudi continued, with a sigh. “They’re willing to help.”
“The lads,” Storm repeated mockingly.
“Dalbert’s gang,” Sudi blurted out.
Storm blinked, then stared at Secundus.
“I believe he means the cutthroat, milord,” he elucidated, nigh uncomfortable. Maja sort of chuckled, a muffled sound, either founding it hilarious, or on the verge of an orgasm.
“Figured as much,” Storm replied and smacked his lips. “Is this the same they call ‘Crazy’?”
“Ayup,” Secundus agreed.
“Isn’t he wanted for… that attack outside Aegium?”
“Among other things,” Secundus replied.
“Ah, it’s an old affair, years back,” Sudi added, to sugar-coat his choice.
“Ten people killed, a couple of children, right Secundus?” Storm continued.
“A couple of murders after that, milord. The total I ain’t sure of,” the hired blade added. “Nothing recently.”
Storm sighed and stared at his throbbing hand. The bandage on it bloody.
“He can get fifty men into the inner city,” Sudi explained. “Good men.”
Good killers, Storm translated.
“What does he want in exchange? A fuckin’ pardon?”
Alistair will have Storm killed alongside Dalbert, if he’d asked him.
“Vibius out of his case,” Sudi deadpanned.
Storm perked up. “Marcellus? The Judge?”
“He doesn’t let the authorities, close his case, chief. Most think the man’s dead.”
Good man, Storm thought. And in a sense we are the authorities.
“Vibius will never let go. And the man apparently isn’t dead. So… there’s a conundrum here.”
Sudi returned his stare solemnly.
Ah.
Abrakas you had to stick your tentacle into the fuckin’ soup, didn’t you?
Lord Nattas sighed, glanced at Maja, the assassin’s raised brow an unvoiced question and nodded. She wrote the name down.
Sudi cleared his throat, apparently not finished. Storm flinched already on edge, bad taste in his mouth adding to his ordeal.
“What?” He snapped angry.
“Want’s a business inside Alden, milord.”
“What kind?”
“Any kind.”
Storm glanced one way frustrated, then the other, saw Zizel sashaying their way to check, whether they needed a refill and sighed again, Maja’s hand touching his knee comfortingly.
“Ask her, papa,” she purred and Storm blinked, Sudi rolling his eyes, while Secundus oblivious to the inner meaning of the jest, nodded in encouragement.
“Lord Nattas?” Lena Verano queried, seeing him looking at her.
“Dear Zizel, you wouldn’t be interested perchance,” Storm started, the assassin’s fingers traveling up his thigh, darn tips hard as iron nails. “In a business partner?”
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Lord Nattas grabbed Maja’s elbow the moment they entered his room upstairs and pushed her on the wall. The assassin gasped, looked in his eyes, saw more anger there than lust and tutted, her raised knee lodged between Storm’s legs.
“Dad, you’re hurting me,” she taunted. “Let go.”
“Stop this,” Storm hissed. “What is your plan here?”
“People will ask about me,” Maja replied and he released her elbow, stepping away. “Flirt, confront you even.”
“This isn’t a permanent arrangement,” Storm replied.
“It is, if word gets out. The King might hear about it. What will you do, have your daughter disappear?”
“I could send you to Lesia.”
“Hmm, or you could find a better reason to have me around.”
“Do you want to?” Storm asked her.
“I can’t perform miracles for you, Lord Nattas,” Maja replied. “You could have just run.”
She was serious.
“Go where?”
“It’s a big world out there.”
“I shan’t have these devout cunts shove their cocks up my arse,” Storm snapped. “Much prefer to give them a taste of my cane.”
Put them through the bloody ringer after.
“What’s the real reason?” Maja asked him, disregarding his outburst. “Why are you still in Alden, Storm?”
Bah, talk will get us nowhere.
Unless, you slip, tongue loosened by the wine.
“Who ordered the heir killed?” He asked her just to check and Maja crooked her mouth, pushed him out of her way. Stopped at the door and looked at him. “Who was it?” Storm insisted.
Who had little Silvie killed?
“I can’t tell you,” Maja replied, run a hand through her hair, the other playing with the chain of her amulet. “It’s not how it works.”
They skewered her like a fuckin’ rabbit!
I saw them remove the cursed thing out her inwards!
“Was it the Cofols? It can’t be Kelholt,” Storm insisted, sweat rivulets running down his forehead, while scrutinizing her face for a sign.
Give me something ye murderous bitch!
The woman snorted and turned to leave, paused and stopped again at the doorway, took a big breath, her voice coming out a whisper.
“I told you, as much as I could. You’re alive because you have a skill, few have,” she said.
“He’ll serve no other God,” Storm blurted out her own words from before, a little desperate now.
And no other people.
“There’s profit in tragedy, Storm,” Maja said with a smirk. “And profit, unlike wayward daughters, always has a father.”
Fuck, Nattas thought watching her walking away, the pants making her arse quite the sight to watch.
I’ve no idea what in all hells, she’s hinting at.
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Four hours later, Lord Nattas dressed in poor plebs clothes, a woolen hood covering his head, was standing behind the palace, Sudi nervously scouring the lightless opening, plants and nature spilling over the gardens high walls, cedar trees sprouting and creating a second mini copse, the nearest building almost fifty meters to the East.
A patrol couldn’t miss him standing there, even if they were drunk out of their wits and half-blind. If Storm was the one leading the patrol, he’ll have them kill him on sight.
“There’s no one coming,” Sudi said conspiratorially, before retreating behind a fine bushy cover and Storm whipped his head that way furious to admonish him for looking the wrong way.
“Keep your eyes open,” he hissed and part of the wall to his right, stone, vines and greenery, opened and a slim figure covered head to toe, in an expensive blue silk cloak with gold details, walked out. ‘Neutral clothes’ had a different meaning the higher one went, up the fuckin’ food chain. She paused for a moment, the relative darkness uncomfortable to her eyes, given the time of day and then seeing him walking towards her, a slight limp probably giving him away, -hopefully- put a gloved hand on her mouth shocked.
If she screams now, Storm thought, reaching her. It would be a hilarious disaster.
And a busy day on the morrow, for the gallows man.
“Your Grace,” he quickly said and Miranda sighed relieved.
“This is so brazen, dear Nattas,” Storm hand had taken hers in the meantime, squeezed it ever so softly in warning and she stopped, blue-silver eyes looking at him.
“No names,” Storm explained, letting her hand drop. “The sound carries.”
“Of course,” The Queen replied, then blinked. “Ahm, I got the message. This is very—”
Evidently, else this would have been even more scandalous.
“Where is the King?” Storm cut her off his time limited, as even slow patrols make good time sometimes and to her credit, she wasn’t fazed at all.
A King’s order could move even bought out ruffians.
“Visiting the Legion,” Miranda replied. “There’s talk, you’ve been arrested,” she glanced about them and stooping near him she whispered. “How did they found out?”
She smelled of scented oils, roses and vanilla. Storm gulped down, the whole scene surreal and forced himself to keep focused on the task at hand.
“They didn’t,” he croaked. “They are trying to take me out the old fashioned way,” A knife in the bloody gut. “Will he be there for the day?”
The King was his meaning.
“He likes sleeping in a tent,” Miranda replied, the excitement of being out in secret, making her facetiousness surface and spill out. The little girl that used to run away to play on Aegium’s beach. “Talk war and listen to silly mare jokes.”
Storm blinked, unsure on the unnecessary detail.
“Which horse runs the city?” Miranda asked him all serious, in an attempt to elucidate.
Right.
“The mare?” The Queen said giggling, apparently fond of silly jokes herself.
Storm cleared his throat. While he would have loved to hear Miranda’s full repertoire of silly jokes, among other things, he was on borrowed time. Sooner or later, the Order would realize their people weren’t late, but dead and the hunt would be on again.
“Can you sent missive to the West Gates, when he does return? Or if anything changes?” He asked her and Miranda frowned, then turned serious again, but for her eyes.
“Of course,” she replied, voice crisp and regal. Borderline frozen. Although, now that Storm knew what she was really like underneath, he wasn’t as intimidated.
This it turned out, was his biggest problem.
HOO
HOO
An owl hooted over the dark street, the stable doors open, let the sound in and Storm who hadn’t worn armour in a decade at the very least, pulled at the collar of his leather vest, the hardened material cutting into his skin, the irritation maddening. Captain Potitus Vitalis paused seeing his figure in the moonlight and squinted his eyes, the four guards with him stopping a couple of steps behind the tall officer, to discern if it was really him.
Ah, leather armour does wonders for one’s stance, Storm thought.
“Lord Nattas,” he said, in his fine common and stepped inside the stable from the opposite side’s opened double doors. “This is a strange place for a meeting.”
“I’m a wanted man,” Nattas replied and walked a couple of meters towards the center of the outer city’s public stables. “Decorum never crossed my mind.”
“You wish to surrender?” Vitalis made a couple of steps himself towards him, the silence of the place unnerving him. Storm’s reputation as well. “Why not come to the headquarters?”
“People tried to murder me at Maiden’s Bridge. Butcher me alike cattle by the road,” Storm retorted. “No trial, neither the chance to defend myself.”
“Hmm. Did you… report this attack?”
Why ye crooked cocksucker.
“I’m reporting it to you,” Storm deadpanned, his tone nasty. “The order of the Golden Spears did it. There. Killed three people, working for me. Put a blade through my fuckin’ flesh!” The latter, almost came out a snarl, spittle and everything.
“Haha, well then. What an adventure. Yet you seem fine to me. Do you have proof of this?” The officer asked with a smirk, seeming not impressed at his outburst and clasped his hands behind his back, mail armor gleaming in the dark.
“Six bodies, no heads. I can take you there,” Storm said, after taking a deep breath and watched Maja drop from the roof of the stable, just behind him.
Four people died outside, in less than two seconds.
“This is an admission of guilt, Lord Nattas. Hell, I don’t even need witnesses,” Vitalis noted and started walking towards him, calling over his shoulder. “Men, take him away, if you please.”
“Make it ten bodies,” Storm taunted and Captain Vitalis stopped, thin groomed mustache dancing, over his mouth. He brought his hand to the pommel of his longsword, but paused mid-move seeing his hands black, the front of his uniform darkening as well and the lower part of his jaw numbing. The man tried to speak as Storm approached him, his own sword in hand.
The night owl hooted again, when he stopped in front of him, careful not to step in the pool of blood. He stared into the dying man’s eyes long, until Vitalis with a long drawn out hiss collapsed on his knees, both hands desperately trying to staunch the bleeding from his severed neck.
“Good grief man,” Nattas commented mockingly, seeing him withering away. “You’ve just run out of witnesses.”
Storm stooped clenching his jaw, not minding his hurting leg and pressed the blade on the man’s quivering chin, the Captain’s eyes ogling panicked. Higher still, finding his half-open mouth, his aim not as good as it used to be in his youth, the steel clinking on teeth first and then that tearing sound, when he shoved it hard one quarter length through the officer’s soft palate.
“He’s dead, dear,” Maja whispered a long moment later, pulling him away, breaking him out of his all-consuming rage. “You can’t kill him again.”
“Aye,” Storm croaked and allowed her to lead him outside. Sudi, long knife in his hands, clad in similar armor greeted them nervously.
“Dalbert’s men are pouring through the West Gates,” his lackey reported.
“Is Captain Betto onboard?” Storm asked him.
“Waiting for yer word, chief.”
Storm snorted and sheathed his sword. Sucked the night air in, the pain in his hand a constant.
Storm had learned to live with pain for most of his life, so he didn’t mind.
“Light the fire,” he ordered a moment later.