What the hell is a NB?

Oops, I should have clarified. NB is the shortened version of Nobles' Bane just using the initials, since I was too lazy to type it out.

Does Lord Travion have a soulmate? I'm willing to volunteer my services if he's lacking one…

*sigh* I thought you preferred Danel? Or was it Kenric? You really must make up your mind… *grin* And at the moment, Lord Travion is very single (if that's what you wanted to hear).

Er…Who is Nathan again?

*slapps forehead* Nathan is only the most important character in this fic! (Just kidding). But Nathan is still definitely important. He was Vistra's ex-lover when she was still a thief. He quit that type of life after meeting and falling in love with Lady Clarine of …err…*goes to check her list* Lady Clarine of Aseath. A very minor, minor title.

Is General Aleyn from Tortall? And who is Raven's Claw?

Yes, I do believe he is from Tortall. His full title is General Aleyn of Ra'kaul. And Ra'kaul roughly translates into Raven's Claw, which is what Lord Travion was referring to Aleyn as within the last chapter.

Author's Note: I realized that I was getting a lot of plot-concerning questions. Questions like: Will Lord Travion fall in love with Vistra? Is Travion Jonathan's ancestor? Etc. And these questions pose problems. Because what use would have you have for my story if I simply answered them? So questions that have to do with the future plot (like the ones I listed) will not be answered other than the usual "You'll find out later." So if you don't see your question in the Q & A that I set up, it's probably because it has to do with the plot… or simply because I forgot to put it in there *grimace*. Yes, I have actually done that a few times.

I'm jumping on POV's again. Aleyn à Nathan à Danel. No Vistra this chapter, but we do get to learn more about Vistra from Danel.

10. The Unexpected

Nobles' Bane: Chapter 8

General Aleyn of Ra'kaul

Lord Travion motioned sharply to the awaiting soldiers with his arm, a short, impatient movement.

General Aleyn watched silently, his arms folded across his chest, as the 'slave' was dragged up to the platform. He noted that the prisoner walked with a stumbling, awkward gait. And his eyes were glued onto the ground, not daring to glance up and about himself.

Good then. He took heed of my warning to act as a slave.

He glanced up to see that Lord Travion was watching him with his cold, inscrutable blue gaze. When Aleyn returned the stare, Travion rewarded the general with a mocking bow of his head. Aleyn had to fight to keep his own expression as empty as the Lord Provost's.

The arrogant little idiot…

But while he was also disdainful of the young lord, General Aleyn couldn't help but be a little jealous also. Aleyn's power lay in his irrepressible fury, his red hot anger. Everyone knew to stay out of his way, to keep a keen eye out for his explosive temper. But the Lord Travion's power lay in his very lack of anger. Lack of any emotion, except for, perhaps, amusement. Lord Travion did not have a temper, he was merely ice. A block of cold, unyielding frost.

"Down onto the chopping block."

General Aleyn's soldier was pressed down onto the block; a man came to stand over him with shiny axe tight in his grasp. All it would take was Lord Travion's nod, and then the axe would fall.

An expectant hush fell over the crowd; even General Aleyn held his breath as he waited. He had one hand on his sword hilt; his ears strained to listen for any unusual sounds.

But there was nothing.

And then the Lord Provost spoke, "Hold." Lord Travion turned and steadily stepped off the platform. His face, his eyes, gave none of his thoughts away.

And the words he whispered to Aleyn were not the words he wanted to hear.

"They are not coming."

For a moment, Aleyn considered using his sword on the young man who stood so unbendingly in front of him. But no. He would control his temper. He would be expressionless. He could be cold too.

"They will come," Aleyn finally whispered back.

Lord Travion shrugged. "The longer we wait like this, the more foolish we look." He turned his head and looked out over the waiting crowd.

"They will come," Aleyn said again.

Lord Travion did not bother to reply.

There was a sudden bustling among the crowd of spectators. They were murmuring, talking, motioning to one another.

Aleyn was only be able catch snatches of words amongst the different conversations.

"…fraud..."

"…a ploy…"

"…not really to be executed…"

"What's going on," Aleyn demanded of the Lord Provost.

A soldier suddenly pushed through several groups of people and ran towards Aleyn and Travion, a parchment rolled in his grasp. "My lord!" he gasped, shoulders heaving from the effort of running. "This has come for you!"

Aleyn took the parchment and unrolled it. Lord Travion read the words aloud from his position by Aleyn's side.

"To whom it may concern,

Sorry to disappoint, but we were not able to attend this extraordinary event. We did not receive word of it until too late, and we are much to busy with other things and could not afford disrupting our schedules in such a way. Perhaps the next time our presence is desired at such a celebrated event, you will send us an earlier invitation.

We may not be of noble blood, but we are not so unintelligent to fall for your little game of deception. Take your men and go home.

With all our love,

Noble's Bane

P.S.: And instruct your executioner to stand down. His arms must be tired of holding the axe up for so long, no?"

And just below the word 'no' there was a small scrawling of a black shield with a great X over it.

"So perhaps were right, General Aleyn. Perhaps Nobles' Bane did come after all." Lord Travion's voice held amusement in its tone. "Who knows, perhaps they're watching us right now…"

It was then that Aleyn noticed the parchments that others were holding. The same letter he clutched in his fist had also been passed around to the gathered spectators, he realized.

Aleyn growled, a great grunt of primitive, wordless fury. He turned, his eyes searching for the executioner whom the vigilante group had mentioned in their letter. Indeed, the executioner was looking about himself, quite puzzled. His arms, still holding the axe, trembled with fatigue.

"My lord?" he asked once he met Aleyn's gaze.

Aleyn's dark eyes were narrowed with tightly clenched rage. "Drop the axe, soldier."

The executioner's eyes widened. "My lord--"

"Bring it down!" Aleyn snapped.

For a moment, Aleyn thought that the man would disobey his direct command. But then he tightened his grip, refocused his footing, and brought the axe's blade down on the victim's neck.

The soldier's head, eyes stuck in an expression of surprised fear, rolled to the ground.

Shocked gasps sounded from all sides. They were coming from Aleyn's other soldiers, the present Lords, and the spectators.

Aleyn gave a satisfied smirk. Nobody had been expecting that move.

"Well," Lord Travion said after a moment. "That's one way to have the last laugh."

~*~*~

Nathan

"Did you just see that?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Nathan said, his voice dry. "I did."

Clarine turned her incredulous expression onto him. "But how could…how could General Aleyn do that to one of his own men?"

"Clarine," Nathan said a bit helplessly. "Let's go. This is not the way I wanted to celebrate your birthday--"

Clarine didn't even hear a word of Nathan's protest. "How could he be so cruel?"

"You know the stories about the General's temper…"

Clarine shook her head. "They did it all wrong. They just made him angry with their letter. They shouldn't have done that!"

"That soldier was a dead man the moment the General thought of the plan, Clarine. Nothing would have changed that."

"But…but what if they hadn't sent any letter at all? Then what?" She waved one of the many copies of the letter that that had been spread around in his face.

"Then General Aleyn would have thought that they hadn't come at all. He would have been angry that his plan failed, and then killed the man anyway," Nathan explained patiently. "The General is not a very compassionate man, you know that."

Clarine's shoulders slumped. "I don't know what to do. I don't know who I should be more sympathetic for."

Nathan knew she was referring to Vistra. She knew that Vistra was a member of Nobles' Bane. After all, he had told her so himself.

"Do you have to be sympathetic for any of them?" he asked her gently. "Why not just be indifferent and neutral?"

Her green eyes were troubled. "There is no such thing as neutral, Nathan. Not in things like this."

"Hush, love. Let's go." He took her by the hand and started to lead her away from the thinning crowd, but stopped mid-step.

Vistra stood just a few feet away from him. He was not sure if she had seen him; she was staring forward at the platform. And strangely enough, there was a look of surprised pain on her face, a look that was akin to Clarine's own when the poor man's head had been cut off.

Her expression made her seem younger, which was odd because she was still young in truth. Not yet, but nearly twenty three, if he was keeping the numbers straight in his head. But her harsh demeanor made her seem older.

There was a tall young man at her side; he had an arm thrown around her waist. He was also staring forward at the platform, at the angry General Aleyn. But his expression held similar anger, not hurt. What had Vistra called him? Oh yes, Danel. This young man must be Danel.

Just as Nathan started wondering where Axe was, he saw him. He stood a bit behind Vistra, by himself. And unlike his counterparts, he was not staring at the platform.

He was staring at Nathan.

Nathan almost raised a hand in greeting, but then he saw the cold, aloof expression on Axe's face. It was the face one would turn onto a suspicious stranger. But Nathan knew that Axe recognized him. Even though his face was cold and indifferent, as if they had never been friends.

And it hurt.

"Nathan?" Clarine touched his shoulder, concerned.

He drew her away from the others. "Come on," Nathan said quietly. "Let's go home."

~*~*~

Danel

Danel sighed. "This isn't a very bright idea."

Axe shrugged. "She knows that. But she wants to do it anyway."

"Why does it matter now? It's not as if she hasn't killed soldiers before."

Axe didn't look up from the sword he was polishing. "But this time it's different."

Danel grunted. He put down the piece of wood he had been shaping into the shape of a quarter moon and started to pace around the room they shared. "But she's killed soldiers before--"

"But during those times, they were armed. They were ready for a fight, even expecting one. And they were deliberately in our way." Axe glanced up at Danel, his brown eyes dark. "This one was not. He was not armed. He was not expecting to walk to his death. He was a helpless victim, Danel. Do not tell me that you do not feel even a little remorse for his death."

Danel sighed. "That does not change the fact that this plan is foolish. We shouldn't even be here in this city; we should be out in the country helping--"

Axe snorted. "Since when have you cared about the country?"

"I care about it now, because this plan is stupid."

Axe shrugged. "Perhaps not as stupid as you think. We've been running across the country, robbing lords and freeing victims. But we cannot do that forever. The things we do out there are minute. But if Vistra can successfully become part of the castle's servant system, she can spy and retain information about the core of this country. We could strike it's very center, abolish the whole system, instead of just hitting at its numerous walls."

"We already know about the core. That bastard General we saw out there today. If we take him out--"

"We also saw that he is a dangerous man. We need to know more about him before we strike." Axe stood up and stretched. "Stop worrying. She'll be fine."

"It's not just her I'm worried about," Danel grunted. "I'm worried about the others there too. Vistra will not make a good servant."

Axe smiled and nodded. "No, she will not."

Danel paced over to the far wall one more time before heading towards the door.

"She's not in a very talkative mood right now," Axe told him softly.

"That's good," Danel growled. "Because I just want her to listen." Danel left the room and headed towards Vistra's. He gave her door one warning tap before pushing it open. But he stopped in the doorway.

A very nude Vista was kneeling on the cold floor in front of a tub of steaming water. She had her arms around her chest and was shivering. She had just washed the red out of her hair, and the now blonde hair fell in wet tangles about her shoulders. She didn't glance up at Danel; as a matter of fact, she didn't even notice him. She was busy staring into the tub of water, staring at the reflection of herself that she saw there. Or, to be more precise, at the reflection of her scar.

He had never asked her how she had gotten it. He didn't ask about her past; she didn't ask him about his. But he had always wondered. It ran from just below the corner of her eye, scratched over her cheekbone, and ended it's jagged pattern on her jaw. She also had numerous smaller scars on her upper arms and around the top of her shoulders. The magicked makeup she wore usually hid the scars. At first, he had thought that she hid her scars for vain reasons. But over time, he realized that she couldn't care less about her physical appearance. The scar served as a reminder, a token of something that had happened in her past. She hid the scar because she wanted it to be private, a personal matter she dealt with on her own.

Danel sighed, the words of admonishment he had had for her just moments earlier forgotten. He picked up a robe from her bed and came to stand behind Vistra as he settled it around her shoulders.

Vistra jumped, as if just realizing that he was in the room.

"You should get dressed before you catch a cold."

She weakly shook her head. "I can't. I have to color my hair."

That was another thing that had always puzzled Danel. How had she learned the art of coloring her hair? She always kept a stash of herbal ingredients with her. And after she had assembled the mixture she would mix into her hair, she would ask Axe to magick it. She said that his Gift helped to make the color stick.

"Why don't you just stay as you are?"

She lifted a hand to her blonde hair protectively. "No."

"Well, all right. Color your hair brown; you make a disturbing black haired girl."

A phantom of a smile came to her face. She lifted a hand that held a vial with a pitch black mixture inside of it. "I like being disturbing," she said quietly.

Danel resettled the robe around her shoulders and knelt to place a kiss onto her scarred cheek. "You better be quick. Your water is cooling fast."

He quietly exited the room and headed back to his own. Axe glanced up at him as he entered.

"So, did you give her an earful?"

Danel nodded at the older man. "I told her exactly what I thought of her foolish plan," he said as he started to pull off his boots.

Axe laughed softly. "You're such a liar."

Minor A.N.: Should I set up a webpage or something that lists all the characters and who they are? Will that be helpful? (And yes, there are some more minor characters who will come into play, in the very next chapter, actually).