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No Time to Die
Part 3
Dante stood at attention in front of the allenatores, waiting for the other teams to show up. He was pleasantly surprised to see they were the first to arrive. He tried to keep his face calm, like a real Crow would, but it was so difficult not to grin triumphantly as Anastasio and Sophia walked in. It was a great feeling to finally be ahead of his biggest rival! But… He frowned. Was Anastasio limping slightly? He'd been injured last night, but Dante had hoped Claudio would treat it…
Marco and Paolo arrived next, breathless but radiant with triumph – bah, amateurs. No real Crow would be that obvious. Then the four losers that had lurked near the gates limped in, looking beaten in more than one sense. Christoph looked lost and confused, but that was nothing new. Lorenzo was sporting a nasty-looking slash on his right shoulder that couldn't have been made with their wooden practice daggers. And they hadn't been given any weapons, anyway, except – his eyes widened as he glanced at Anastasio and Sophia. Did Anastasio do that? Was that why he'd strutted in like a peacock? Or as best he could given the limp.
The clock struck eight, and as the allenatore stepped forward to announce the end of the test, the last team stumbled in. Master Enrico waived Dante and his partner over and folded his arms.
They stepped forward and bowed. "We went to the Gallery, where we obtained the next clue from the informant, infiltrated the building, decoded the instructions and found sealed information," Dante said. He took the envelope out of his pocket and placed it on the long table set up in front of the allenatores, where everyone could clearly see whatever was placed on it. Then they returned to their place in the formation.
Anastasio and Sophia stepped up next. "We went to the Museo Nazionale Antivan, where we found a word puzzle and solved it. The clues from the puzzle led us to an inn, where we found these on the rooftop, hidden inside a locked safe." The pair presented the exquisite Crow daggers, hilts first, and carefully laid them on the table. They bowed, then returned to their places.
Impressive, Dante had to admit. Not as much as retrieving important information, of course. But Anastasio had arrived just seconds after him, and with those injuries… He could only hope they'd get a chance to rest and visit the healer before the fight. It wouldn't be fun to fight Anastasio in this shape – and if he lost, he'd claim it was because he wasn't at his best.
The next two teams had to admit they'd failed, but Marco and Paolo did succeed, and proudly placed a beautiful golden flask with etchings on the table. What they were so proud about, Dante couldn't tell. Crouching like cowards in the shadows and crawling in while others were fighting – how pathetic compared to his clever scheme.
"We remembered that Ser Stephan Accardo owns a race horse named Beauty, so we went to his manor," Paolo said. "On his barn was the mark of the thieves' guild, so we went to the marketplace. There we traded our potion to one of the rats who seemed to be waiting for someone and trying to cover it by acting a little too casually. He gave us a clue that led us to this flask of poison. It's the Adder's Kiss." The allenatore raised his brow. "We sniffed the bottle," Paolo added.
Well, perhaps they weren't completely useless, Dante would give them that. He just hoped they wouldn't get a better score than Anastasio. He wanted to fight Anastasio, not the fifth team, average in all aspects. In any case, unless he was completely wrong, he and Pietro were still the top team – they'd arrived without any fight and first.
The team that had arrived after the deadline placed a signet ring on the table. The taller boy's tone was clear but subdued as he began his report, but Master Enrico cut him off before he could get very far.
"Your team is late. Return to your place," he said in clipped tones. Turning back to the formation, he addressed the apprentices. "Every team was secretly observed by one or more Crows during the trials to assess your performance. Therefore, points will be awarded not only for finding and returning a treasure in the allotted time frame, but also on each team's actions during the test. Because of this, points will be awarded once we have received their reports about your performance and factored that into your total score, which will be tallied during the next hour. All teams who recovered a prize and made it within the deadline may have that time to prepare for the next trials – twelve-man elimination combat using practice daggers. The losers, however, are obviously in need of remedial training. Or are simply lazy and need discipline. I will be happy to provide both. Come with me."
Master Enrico turned and walked off towards one of the barracks, the losers following behind like a trail of sad puppies. Only after they were gone did the rest of them dare to relax. Although they had assumed it would be using their wooden daggers, you could never be entirely certain what the masters would come up with. Dante grinned at Pietro. "Aren't you glad now I made you hang that picture back and set everything in order?"
Pietro rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he said, refusing to admit it. "I'm gonna go get some food. See you later." With that, he walked off, giving no indication of whether or not the allenatore's announcement concerned him. Ungrateful fool. They both knew he could only be so unconcerned because Dante suspected they might be observed. Eh, whatever. It wasn't as if they were permanent teammates. In the next trial, each would fight for himself.
He turned to see what Anastasio was doing, and was glad to find he'd left Sofia and was heading his way. "That was some badass dagger," he said. "Did you slash Lorenzo with it?"
"Yeah," Anastasio said proudly. "Too bad you didn't see – it was over so fast he never even had a chance!" Here he mimicked the slashing motion he'd made as he'd run past Lorenzo. "A full Crow couldn't have done any better!" he boasted.
If a full Crow had done it, Lorenzo would've been dead, but Dante didn't want to spoil his friend's moment of triumph by pointing that out. "How's your arm and leg?" he asked softly, so the others wouldn't hear. "You should go see Claudio; I'll grab us some food. You know where to find me."
"Not bad, but I might as well get healed up before the fights, I guess," Anastasio said. "I'll see you in a bit," he added as he set off for the healer's clinic at a trot. It hurt like hell, but it wouldn't do to let anyone else see just how much. Bad enough that Dante knew.
oOo
Anastasio was immensely grateful to see no line snaking out of the healer's clinic. After trotting all the way from the training ground, both his leg and wrist were throbbing with pain. He limped into the clinic and found Claudio, his back to him. He appeared to be working on potions. Anastasio cleared his throat. "Excuse me, ser."
Claudio put the antidote down, and turned around. It was the boy from this morning – the one with the sore wrist and leg. The tests must have been pretty bad, because he was keeping his weight off his injured leg and cradling his right wrist; the poultice had come off, and it was now swollen like a sausage. There was some blood on his shirt, but it was hard to tell if it was his or not. He sighed and motioned for him to sit down on the bed.
"Any new injuries?" he asked, as he headed to the shelf with the premade poultices.
"Well, not exactly." Anastasio sat down. "Just made the old ones worse," he said dryly.
"So I see," Claudio replied in the same tone. "Are your tests over for today?" he asked as he cleaned the bits of old poultice from the wrist before applying a fresh one.
"No ser, next is dueling, and there may be more after, I don't know."
"I'll give you some to take with you," Claudio decided. "Change it before you go to sleep."
As he started to wrap a clean bandage over the poultice, Anastasio screwed up his courage enough to ask, "Could you do something to make my wrist strong enough to be able to punch with – something magical so nobody will see?"
"Maybe," Claudio muttered. There was a glyph for it; he used it on full Crows often enough. The only problem was that he wasn't supposed to do it for apprentices… Even though it didn't cost anything and took all of two minutes… Eh. How would the allenatores know? If he drew it with lyrium, the symbol would fade out quickly. They'd have to see him drawing it, and there was no one here.
He took a bottle of a lyrium mixture and a brush he used for glyphs. "It won't make you stronger, though. And it will wear off in a few hours. Now, keep still." He tipped the brush into lyrium and started to draw, infusing it with his magic, which made the sign glow blue.
Korlys walked into the clinic to see Claudio drawing a familiar shape on an apprentice's arm. He paused as an 'oh fuck' look passed over the healer's face. "Please continue," he said, waving him on, "I'm just here to pick up the potions you made up for me, but I'm in no hurry." His next appointment would be far more unpleasant, and Korlys was happy to delay it.
"It'll only take a minute," Claudio assured him, trying to keep his voice calm. At least it was Korlys who saw it. It could've been worse. It could've been Ilario, or Angelo. Korlys was – used to be, at least – one of the extremely few decent guys, and Claudio had given him the same treatment more than once during his apprenticeship. He could only hope that being Nico's favourite hadn't twisted him too much.
Anastasio's stomach knotted as he saw who had walked in the door, and he sat up a little straighter in an unconscious attempt to appear stronger and less injured. The man was instantly recognizable – he was the top Crow in their cell, Master Nico's favorite. Every apprentice hoped to become his senior apprentice, and he hoped fervently that Korlys would be watching their next tests. And that he would excel in spite of his injuries. Until then, however, Anastasio was more worried about doing anything that would draw his ire.
"Keep this to yourself," the healer said, as he finished the drawing. "I don't want to spend every moment of my free time drawing glyphs for you runts. Understood?" He then checked his leg. "Good news is, it's still not cracked, only badly bruised. If you avoid any pointless fighting outside your tests, it should get better by tomorrow evening," he said. Anastasio could feel the cool, tingly sensation of healing magic washing over and permeating the injury. "I'll give you a couple more potions for today. Come see me tomorrow if it gets worse."
"Yes ser," Anastasio said obediently as he got up. He bowed to Ser Korlys, and to his relief the Crow didn't acknowledge him. Not that Anastasio had expected it, but you never knew when a full Crow would decide to use you for something – as Tirano had last night. The apprentice left the clinic as fast as he could without being disrespectful.
Claudio got up and carefully put the lyrium and the brush away. He brushed his hands on his tunic, then turned to Korlys. "I've heard Ilario placed a high bet on this kid," he said. "Are you betting too?"
Korlys laughed. "Don't worry about it – I have more important concerns than which apprentices are getting favoured treatment from the cell's healer," Korlys said. "And you know I don't bet on the apprentices. I do have some standards." It was one of the few things he didn't bend on – he wouldn't bet on kids as if they were dogs, and his status gave him enough clout that it hadn't tarnished his reputation.
"That you do," Claudio said with a hint of a smile. "Won't you be taking another kid for a senior, though? Any kid would be lucky to get you as a mentor, since your first one made it to full Crow."
"True, but it means investing my time and energy in training them," Korlys said. "I will have to be very confident before selecting someone as my apprentice, but sí, I do have a few I'm considering."
"Ilario says he's taking the two that get the highest scores today, then pitting them against each other – the one who manages to assassinate the other gets to be his apprentice. He says it's the only certain way to get the best." Claudio had to struggle to keep his voice and face neutral and not show his disgust at the idea.
"Naturally," Korlys said contemptuously. "Ilario doesn't have an original bone in his body."
"Oh?" Claudio raised his brow, leaning against the table. He had the things Korlys requested all ready in a box filled with straw to prevent their shattering due to ship movements. But Korlys said he wasn't in a hurry, and he'd be gone for months, if he even returned – sea voyages were dangerous and unpredictable, even for the mighty Crows. And there weren't that many guys Claudio could chat with here. "How would you decide which of the two is the best?"
"I'd give them a real-world mission," Korlys replied. "They'd each be assigned a target, but on different nights. The mark would be one of my own contracts, and the test would be to infiltrate their home or wherever they may be sleeping on the particular night I choose, and get close enough to steal something they are wearing, or something right next to them – something I would recognize, like a ring – to prove they got close enough to assassinate the target. And I would follow them unawares so I could evaluate their performance. Pitting a child against a child proves nothing. Pitting a child against an adult mark, with all their bodyguards and other security, is something else again."
Claudio mused it over for a moment. "That… is at the same time more merciful and more terrifying," he finally said. "At least they'd both have a chance to survive." And they wouldn't have to kill yet. "I think the kids would prefer it, too," he said instead. "When did you say you were leaving? Tonight?"
"No, early tomorrow morning," Korlys replied.
"Early morning? Or do you think you could take another night out? On me, this time." And a different place, but he was certain Korlys wouldn't mind that.
Korlys laughed. "You know I can stay out all night and be fine the next morning. One more night on the town sounds good to me. What do you have in mind?"
"How about a strip club? I've heard there's a new one on Via de la Principessa. It's called Royal Service. The guys say it's the fanciest one right now – even fancier than Bottom's Up."
"Hmm, yes, I've heard of it – supposed to have both male and female dancers. I'm game if you are," the assassin said with a wicked grin.
"Alright. See you at eleven."
"Sounds good," Korlys said with a nod. He took the supplies Claudio had made up for him and headed out. "See you then."
oOo
Anastasio and Dante finished their food, then trotted back to the training ground just in time to see one of the masters stepping away from a chalkboard posted on the wall of a nearby building. Dante was all knotted up inside, but he hid it behind an arrogant smirk; the others must not even suspect it, not before the duels. He had been the third-best apprentice before now, and unless he was completely wrong about how this test had been scored, he'd moved at least one place up after the treasure hunt this morning.
They raced to the board, along with a few others who had just arrived. Dante was almost afraid to look at the top – but it was there, blue on white: his name at the top of the list! His ears started to buzz with excitement. The first, he was the first ranked! He quickly scanned the rest of the list. Anastasio was second! Awesome! But… oh Maker, he wouldn't have to fight Anastasio, would he? Even with his arm injured, Anastasio would be a problem… There were a few others who would be difficult to fight – he'd always been only average in fighting, as that was all about strength, speed, and reflexes, and intellect couldn't help him much – but Anastasio was the top of their year. And Lorenzo, but he'd dropped down to the seventh rank. Served the cretin right! Dante inhaled, forcing himself to calm down. He had to keep his wits about him if he wanted to remain first. Even if it meant having to defeat Anastasio. He'd just have to do his best.
As Anastasio scanned the new rankings, his eyes widened in shock. Lorenzo had dropped from first to seventh? He'd be fighting like a demon during their next trials. And Dante had jumped from third to first! His partner, Pietro, had moved from tenth to fifth. Their showing in the last trials had propelled them both higher than Anastasio had expected. He was glad to see that he had at least held on to second place, but it wasn't good enough. As much as he hated it, he'd have to beat Dante soundly enough to switch places with him in the rankings.
They took their places in the formation, hands behind their backs. Master Enrico and the losers were already there, and Anastasio wondered what had happened to them. Every one of them was sweating profusely, but he couldn't see any visible marks, bruises, or blood. Whatever had happened, it had clearly been grueling, and likely painful as well.
"I trust by now you have all seen the new rankings, yes? Some of you have quite a ways to go to redeem yourselves if you ever hope to become senior apprentices," Master Enrico said.
The slight emphasis on 'ever' didn't escape Anastasio's notice, and he suppressed a shiver at the reminder of the consequences for failure. The Crows had no place for losers.
"The bottom eight apprentices will be fighting in the first rounds, and the winners of those will move on to the second round, where they'll be pitted against one of the top four." He held a clipboard in his right hand, and he glanced at it now as he read off the names of the first combatants. "Christoph and Michaela, Pietro and Luca, Sofie and Benjamin, and Lorenzo and Giulio," he said. As he read off each pair of names, he'd point to one of four large circles that had been drawn on the ground, and the apprentices took their places in their assigned circles two by two.
As two allenatores gathered near each circle, ready to score the fights, the top four apprentices – Dante, Anastasio, Marco and Paolo – stood off to one side where they had a decent view of all four arenas. Not the best seats in the house, so to speak. The best vantage points were being taken up by many of the cell's full Crows, most of whom were already placing bets, laughing and joking as if at a sporting event, although Anastasio was sure they were also there to evaluate them, to see which of them they might want to choose as their senior apprentices. He'd better watch the fights closely to see if he could find weaknesses he might be able to exploit when it was his turn to face the winners.
oOo
Dante watched the duels, trying to do the calculations in his head. These were standard twelve-man elimination duels based on the new ranking. And that meant that his next fight should be with… whoever won between Pietro and Luca… or maybe Christoph and Michaela? Brasca, he wasn't quite certain about their ranks, he'd only cared for his, Anastasio's, and Lorenzo's. Hopefully not Pietro. He was one of the few that Dante was worried about. The other three were more or less on his level. Christoph was still looking dizzy and confused – the punishment had done nothing to help his condition. Michaela shouldn't have a big problem with him. And Dante was quite certain he could deal with her. Luca was merely average, too…
Sure enough, the matches went as he expected. Michaela put Christoph out of his misery in a record short time, and Pietro didn't have any problems either. What a pity they weren't allowed to place bets! He could have a few more coins.
Nothing surprising in the other two matches, either. As much as Dante despised Lorenzo and wished the cretin would lose spectacularly in the very first round, he was one of the two best fighters in their year. He was obviously favoring his right arm though; Master Enrico hadn't given him time to treat the wound. Depending on who he'd face next, Lorenzo might not get further than the second round and remain middle-ranked. Or even drop further! Ah, this day was getting better and better.
The last fight was over quickly, too. Whatever Sofia had done to Christoph at the gate had to be quite impressive, because Benjamin was clearly nervous – which she used to her advantage. Smart girl, Sofia. Quite pretty, too.
But that meant that his first match would be with Pietro. Oh well. It would be too much to hope that everything would go the way he wished. Pietro was a good fighter, but he was more clever. He just had to use that in the battle.
oOo
Just as Anastasio had expected, he and Dante had both made it to the final round. He could see Dante was taking shallow breaths, but to his credit, refused to hold his side. Nevertheless, he knew the ribs on Dante's right side had to be at least bruised, if not broken. He'd taken a good shot from Pietro, who had then made the mistake of gloating about it before he'd actually put Dante away. Dante had used that opportunity to deliver a solid kick to the thigh, causing Pietro's leg to buckle and giving him the chance to slide his 'blade' across Pietro's throat, ending the contest.
Dante grinned at Anastasio. Pietro had gotten him badly, but Anastasio wasn't unscathed, either… Although, it should've been worse. For someone with a badly bruised leg and swollen wrist, Anastasio was doing surprisingly well. Suspiciously well, he should say. Had the healer given him an extra strong potion? Anastasio certainly was clever enough to manipulate the man into it… And that meant Dante had to be cautious. Better not assume Anastasio was hindered by his injury.
"Ready to remain second ranked?" he teased.
"You wish, shorty," Anastasio said, an easy smile on his face, as if he wasn't the least bit worried about beating Dante. But he wasn't stupid – it would be dangerous to underestimate his opponent. He readied his daggers, and as the allenatore gave the signal, moved forward quickly and targeted Dante's stomach, hoping to catch Dante off guard.
Fast! Dante sidestepped, but didn't dodge it completely, and Anastasio's dagger glanced off his left side. An opening! Before he could raise his left arm again to protect himself, Dante counterattacked, aiming for the throat.
Anastasio's first instinct was to attack Dante's injured ribs, but he remembered he owed the other apprentice for earlier this morning, when he'd helped him get cleaned up after his encounter with Tirano. Time to pay back his debt. He pulled back out of reach and started to circle around, trying to get at Dante's unprotected back.
Dante pivoted around, taking quick, shallow breaths. His ribs hurt like hell, and the quick movements made breathing more difficult. If he let Anastasio get behind him, the match would be over in an instant. The only thing he could do was wait until Anastasio attacked again… and observe. This close, he could see Anastasio's right wrist was swollen and he was careful not to put weight on his left leg. If Dante kicked that leg like he had in the fight with Pietro, he might have a chance… No. That would be pitiful. That'd be like admitting he couldn't defeat Anastasio without such a trick. He didn't need it. He would just improvise. But there wasn't much he could use – they were fighting in a circle drawn in dirt.
Trying to flank Dante wasn't working, and the other apprentice hadn't given him an opening yet, either. He could sense the allenatores getting impatient with them. Anastasio smirked. "How are your ribs feeling, loser?"
It worked! Dante rushed him. And if he was reading his opponent's body language correctly, Dante was targeting his ribs. Pretty funny, really. Anastasio imagined the other apprentice probably had a witty quip to go with it, but he wasn't going to find out. Anastasio stepped to one side at the last moment, sweeping Dante's legs. He quickly pivoted to be able to tackle him and finish this. Anastasio had already committed to that move when he realized something didn't feel quite right. It almost seemed like Dante had wanted to fall. He tried to turn, to get away from whatever the other apprentice was planning, but couldn't move fast enough.
With a triumphant cry, Dante grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into Anastasio's eyes. It would only buy him a second or two, but that was all he needed to jump back up. As he expected, Anastasio instinctively turned to the right, trying to wipe the dirt out of his eyes and retreat to the edge of the circle. Now or never! It was a bit underhanded, but he couldn't afford to waste a chance like this, not against a fighter as good as Anastasio. Dante lunged to his opponent's left, trying to stab him in the back.
Anastasio's left eye was blinded, but he'd managed to turn his head just enough to protect his right eye, although it was tearing up in sympathy, and almost as blurry as the left one. He'd inhaled some of the dust as well, but stifled an urge to cough. He had to use his ears to compensate for his sight, and could hear enough to guess Dante was trying to flank him.
Instead of stopping his motion, Anastasio continued turning to his right, lashing out with his right dagger. Either he'd connect with his opponent or he'd force him to move out of range. A hit! There was no time for maneuvering. Assuming Dante would already have committed to his attack, and therefore his arms – and his daggers – would be extended too far for him to be able to change the direction of his attack quickly, Anastasio used his momentum to tackle Dante, landing on top of him and viciously stabbing, unable to aim precisely. He wasn't quite sure where he was hitting, all he knew was that his blows were landing.
As soon as he heard the allenatore call the fight, Anastasio jumped up and walked out of the circle. Only then did he feel it safe to drop his guard and try to wipe the dirt and tears out of his eyes.
Dante scrambled back to his feet. Damn it! He was so certain it would work! But that was Anastasio for you… Turning the tables in an instant. Still. He had almost got him. And even if he'd lost, and even if he'd be second now, it was still one rank higher than this morning. He hadn't plummeted down like Lorenzo; and he wouldn't shuffle out of the ring like a beaten dog. It was difficult to breathe, and the pain in his ribs was now accompanied by the pain in his lower back where Anastasio's last attack got him. Even though it was just a wooden dagger, it still hurt. But he straightened up, sheathed his practice dagger, and glanced at Anastasio.
"Hmph. You got lucky this time. Next time, I'm taking you down!" And with that, he walked out of the ring. Maker, he hoped he'd be able to visit Claudio soon.
oOo
It was the ungodly hour of 5 AM, and the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Last night had been pretty wanton, even for him, but the exotic dancers at the gentleman's club had been exquisite, the atmosphere upscale, and the liquor top-of-the-line. No worries about inexperienced teenagers in that place. They hadn't left until 3 AM, so he hadn't bothered going to sleep at all last night.
Korlys stood on the docks near the pier where the Katerina's Dream was moored, watching the hive of activity buzzing around the ship as it was loaded. All their supplies had already been delivered by a runner, including his own personal bags. He had been careful to take only what he would have had he intended to return from the mission, and nothing more.
He had the uncomfortable sensation at the back of the neck that he got when he felt watched. He'd be damned if he'd look around, though. No point in looking guilty. Besides, it was common knowledge he was leaving.
As more runners arrived at the docks, Korlys found an out of the way area a few yards back where there was a split rail fence. A line of shade trees ran along the other side of it. He hopped onto the fence to observe, feeling slightly better now that there was something at his back, however sparse.
The assassin went over every detail of the last few weeks in his mind carefully, searching for any possible tell he could have made, any slip that might have given anyone a reason to suspect he might not be planning to return, anything out of the ordinary, but could come up with nothing. Korlys knew the only way to lie without being caught was to make yourself believe it, so he'd lived his lie, visualizing himself coming back in a few months, even making vague plans with various friends and lovers for when he returned.
It meant not even hinting to Annette, of course, but that was fine. She would have done the same, and in fact would have resented it if he had told her. Not only would it have put her in the dangerous position of having to lie to cover for him, but confiding in her would have implied a seriousness to their relationship that neither of them wanted. Their relationship worked because it was easy and enjoyable, all the fun and excitement of a love affair without any risk of complicated feelings arising or burdensome demands being placed on each other. As a fellow Crow, Ana never needed him to make up stories for his erratic absences, and since they were from different cells, they weren't in direct competition, so the continual low-grade fear and mistrust that was always present between Crows from the same cell didn't exist for them.
Their only shared secret was Olivia, but once they'd secured her safety, he and Ana had never mentioned her again, their carefree relationship resuming as if nothing had changed, their daughter as ephemeral as the ripples of water from a pebble tossed into a pond.
Korlys' musings were interrupted as he spotted his partner for this particular mission, Angelo, walking the length of the docks towards him. Their ship's berth was at the very end of the docks, the ones closer to the dockmaster's office being taken up by the smaller yachts owned by the wealthy merchant princes of Antiva.
His partner gave him an easy-going smile as he arrived. "Why do sailors always want to leave at such ridiculous hours?"
Korlys grunted agreement. "Perhaps they secretly enjoy making their passengers suffer. I saw our accommodations, by the way – we shall be miserable the whole journey." He delivered this news with the perverse satisfaction one feels at being able to trump a companion's complaint.
Angelo sighed theatrically. "At least we will have several bottles of good Antivan brandy as consolation, yes?"
The banter was familiar and comfortable, signifying nothing, like most Crow conversations. It was a shame, in a way, that Angelo would never agree to defect. Well, as far as Korlys knew, anyway. And he was much too careful to risk everything attempting to find out. It would have been nice to have the companionship, but he would have his freedom at any cost. "Sí, that will help."
Angelo crossed his arms and turned to lean against the railing, watching the activity around the ship. "It is a shame the mission calls for such discretion that we are forced to travel in substandard accommodations. I wouldn't have thought the target that sophisticated." He cursed inwardly as he immediately realized how that remark sounded. Yes, he was dying to know if Korlys knew why they weren't using a Crow ship for this voyage, but to sound so calculating in front of Nico's favorite was extremely dangerous. He had let his curiosity get the best of him, likely to his detriment.
Korlys shrugged casually, crossing his own arms as well. "Who knows? I wasn't able to uncover anything during my research, but of course, if he really is that sophisticated, he would be skilled enough to seem an ordinary wealthy Fereldan, yes?"
"True." Angelo fell silent, desperately searching for any way to steer the conversation back to safer waters. After some time, he spoke up. "I hear you and Claudio tried out the Royal Service last night. What did you think of it?"
Korlys' face split into a wide grin as he launched into a detailed retelling of all the lurid details with relish. Angelo relaxed in relief. There was nothing so enjoyable as being able to boast of one's exploits, and he was glad the conversation was back in frivolous territory.
oOo
Claudio strolled down the corridor as if he had no worries in the world, his pace measured and calm. He saw no guards in front of Nico's office, but that didn't mean they weren't there and that he wasn't being watched. He had no idea why Nico had summoned him, but betraying any anxiety in his behaviour or expression might make them suspect he was guilty of something.
He stopped in front of the door and pulled out his pocket watch; only two minutes early. Perfect. Fighting the urge to check his appearance in the metal lid of the watch one last time – he'd spent the whole morning making sure he looked immaculate – he slipped it back into his pocket and knocked on the door. At Nico's invitation, he walked in and bowed.
"You called for me, Signor Gambino?"
At a glance, he took in the whole room. Nico was sitting behind his desk, with two men nearby.
The one standing to Nico's right was Antonio. Claudio's throat tightened. This guy was bad news – very bad news. All Crows were scheming backstabbers, but this guy was on another level. Two years ago, he'd uncovered Tirano's schemes with another cell's master; it wasn't enough to depose Korlys from his position as Nico's numero uno, but it did bring Antonio up to top three. Judging by his poorly veiled smugness, he must have unearthed something big again.
The other man was standing in front of Nico's desk, off to one side. Claudio did not recognize him, but judging from his robes, he was a Circle mage. What was he doing here? Did Nico want to replace him? But why? He hadn't done anything wrong… had he?
Nico stood up and walked around to the front of his desk. "Claudio, I would like you to meet your new assistant, Franco. You will have one week to get him up to speed. I have a top priority mission for you, so he'll be filling in for you for a few months."
Franco walked up to him, hand extended. "Good to meet you, Ser Claudio. I'm honoured to be working with you."
"Welcome, Franco. Glad to meet you," Claudio said, grasping his hand cordially, as if his heart wasn't thumping wildly against his chest. A top priority mission? What did that mean? He turned to Nico again. "Thank you for this opportunity, ser. May I ask what the mission is?"
Nico leaned against his desk, casually folding his arms, and Claudio could swear he looked amused as he said, "You will be accompanying Illario and his team. They are going to Ferelden to help Korlys find his way home safely."
"Korlys defected?" Claudio whispered, feeling as if he would faint. That couldn't be possible, could it? He'd only left three days ago. But… he must have, if Nico was sending his second best to bring him back. And if they needed a healer… it could only mean one thing.
The slight drawing together of Nico's brows was more than enough to realize how truly furious he was. Maker help the man who had drawn his ire. "I am sure it is all a misunderstanding, of course." Abruptly, Nico walked back to his desk and sat down. "Now, you only have a week to get Franco up to speed. I suggest you get started," he said dismissively as he picked up the top letter from the neat stack sitting on his desk and started reading. Probably a contract request.
"Right away, Signor Gambino." Claudio bowed, although Nico didn't lift his eyes again, and waved to his unfortunate replacement to follow. Maker, how was he supposed to explain? A single week… Franco would have to be very clever to survive until their return. Still, he had better chances than Korlys.
Claudio's stomach twisted at that thought. I don't want to watch, I don't want to help, not him. But he would. Nico had ordered it, and there was no way around it. Anything to survive, he thought bitterly. Like a beast. Or worse.
oOo
Claudio looked around his office: shelves full of colourful flasks of healing potions and antidotes; jars of poultices and balms; stacks of dried herbs; his desk made of solid maple wood; upholstered chair; copper chandelier; dozens of little things that had accumulated during the years – things that might be useful one day (but so far they never had been), things Crows had brought him from their missions if they needed a favour or wanted to assure his discretion (as if he'd ever risk being otherwise), things he had bought at the market…
Nine years of his life. Not the life he'd dreamed of once, but a life. Now it might be coming to an end. Nico had never sent him on an overseas mission before. He was aware that healers of his caliber were rare, and more than once Nico had said Claudio was a valuable asset. Then again, none of Nico's Crows had ever defected. They tried to cheat him, they negotiated with rival masters behind his back, sure. But run away? No one was that dumb.
Until Korlys… And he had spent the last two nights before Korlys' departure with him. What if Nico thought he'd known and failed to report Korlys' plans? Damn you, Korlys. There had been nothing, not the slightest hint during those last two nights, of his plans. The assassin had sounded as normal as he had any other night out. They had even agreed to go back to the Royal Service and have a nice little welcome-back-after-a-successful-mission orgy! But if Nico believed he had anything to do with Korlys' departure… In that case, he might be this young mage's first experience assisting a torture session.
He glanced at the man. How much did he already know about the Crows? "Please, sit down," he said politely, gesturing towards the chair where his 'patients' normally sat. "Before we start, let me ask you. How much has Signor Gambino told you about his business?"
Franco sat on the edge of the chair, an eager expression on his face. "Oh, I only know what everyone knows, of course; he is a wealthy and powerful philanthropist, and has a soft spot for orphans. I am so excited to get this opportunity! I'll stay up late to learn if necessary – a week isn't very long, I know."
Claudio burst into bitter laughter. "Has a soft spot for orphans, has he?" He shook his head and sighed. "So he told you nothing at all… Well, there's no tasteful way to say this. Signor Nico Gambino is a Senior Crow Master, head of the Gambino House of Crows."
Franco started to laugh, then stopped. All the blood drained from his face. "But...but that cannot be true! He's well-respected, a benefactor of the Mercy Home for the Friendless Orphan..." As his voice trailed away, it was clear he was connecting the dots.
"Of course he is. Orphanages are prime sources for new apprentices," Claudio said. "They take them in, train them, and if they're lucky enough to survive, make them full Crows. I say lucky enough, because the survival rate is ten percent, at best. Unfortunately, healers are not allowed to spend their time or valuable resources on untrained kids."
"But..." Franco started again, visibly agitated. He got up and started pacing, gesturing distractedly. "But, I don't want to work for the Crows," he said, almost to himself. Franco stopped and faced Claudio. "That seems dangerous," he said weakly. It was almost a whine.
Claudio laughed again, not unkindly. "No one in their right mind wants to work for the Crows. That's exactly why you weren't told. The First Enchanter signed a contract with Nico, you see – sold you, in other words – and there's no going back. Not alive, at least. But there are a few things that can prolong your survival. That is what you need to learn this week."
Franco slumped down in his chair, apparently already resigned to his fate. Or perhaps just depressed. "I'm a slave?" he asked.
"Yes. But so are all the Crows, if that makes you feel better about it. Those kids were bought like livestock and don't have much more value than that until they're in their teens."
Franco sat up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders. "Well, tell me everything I need to know and I'll do my best to help them." He paused, then added. "For as long as I survive, anyway." The resignation in his tone made it clear he had no illusions or foolish notions. Perhaps he would last longer than Claudio expected after all.
oOo
Dante walked back from the main building as fast as his dignity allowed; it wouldn't do to look like an overeager baby, not now. Not ever again, in fact. Because this was it. Today was the day he'd been anxiously awaiting for at least the past six months. Today he had been chosen as a senior apprentice – and by Nico's second ranked Crow, too! Only being chosen by Master Korlys would have been better, but he was gone on a long mission and wouldn't be back for months. Which meant he'd gotten as high as he could. The first to be chosen in their year, too! Ha! Anastasio might currently be the top rank junior apprentice, but that could hardly compare. Dante couldn't wait to see his face when he told him.
There he was, sparring with Sofia. Dante stood nearby, watching the duel with his arms crossed and keeping an impassive expression on his face, until it was over. Sofia really was good… but Anastasio was better. As expected from his main rival, second only to himself.
"Do you have a moment? I need to talk to you," he said.
Anastasio walked over with a familiar swagger. "What's up?" he asked casually.
Dante tsked. "Is that any way to talk to your betters? Starting today, you'll address me as 'ser', junior apprentice Anastasio!" But then he couldn't hold it in anymore. "Ilario chose me as his apprentice! And he's taking me on an important mission!"
A confused look came over Anastasio's face. "That can't be true. Master Ilario chose me to be his apprentice. He said so this morning."
"But – that means…" Dante swallowed as it clicked. "Maybe – maybe he wants both of us?" he suggested unconvincingly.
Anastasio looked away and shrugged. "Maybe," he said, but it was clear he knew better.
Dante bit his lip. "Are you going on the mission, too?" he asked after a while.
"Yeah," he replied, looking down at his shoe as he scuffed the dirt with one foot.
"Good! It's overseas – it'll take months! And the two of us, we're the top apprentices. We'll make him realize what a waste it would be to lose either of us." The chance of that happening was practically nonexistent, but Dante wasn't ready to give up just yet.
Anastasio finally looked up, a half-hearted smile on his face. "Of course. When he sees all we can do, he'll change his mind. He just hasn't seen enough of our skills yet."
"Sí! Although, I am a bit worried for you," Dante teased. You'll have to try your hardest if you want to impress him while I'm around."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that," he said with a smirk, and gave Dante a playful shove.
"If you're done sparring, we should go pack. We need to be in top condition tomorrow…" He paused, thinking about something. "You don't happen to have any bruises or injuries from sparring, do you? We could go ask Claudio for a couple of potions…"
Anastasio thought for a moment. "Well, there would be no point in you coming with me if you weren't injured, too. I guess we could just punch each other until we're sufficiently bruised, but...frankly, I'd rather take my chances without a potion. Besides, I still have one left. We need to go pack, though." He grinned. "While we are at it, we should let Lorenzo know all about our good news. I am sure he'll be very happy for us."
"Absolutely," Dante agreed, with a matching grin. A little perk already! It would be alright, he repeated to himself stubbornly as they headed to the flophouse. They'd survived until now, hadn't they? They would survive this, too.
oOo
Katerina's Dream cut through the waves smoothly, all sails set to catch the stiff northerly winds accompanying them since they'd left Antiva. Korlys and Angelo spent as much of their time on deck as possible, both hating the close quarters of their cabin. The real downside was that being stuck on a ship left too much time for introspection. Deprived of the usual distractions – contracts to fulfill, parties to crash, whores to fuck – they were restless. The pair filled their time with physical contests, good for burning up some nervous energy, or with games of chance with the other passengers, who were good natured, salt-of-the-earth types. With the exception of a snooty Orlesian noblewoman, who would sooner face the rushing waves than condescend to play cards with the 'likes of them'.
Korlys had spoken with the captain yesterday, who was of the opinion that they would arrive at their destination a good two days sooner, owing to the unusually lucky weather. The captain had chalked it up to the cat they'd picked up before setting sail. That it was a black cat made it all the luckier.
"Maybe we'll even be landing in Ferelden tomorrow," Korlys remarked to Angelo, who was sitting beside him on one of the lower spars of the ship. They had been forced to cut short their contest to see who could make it to the crow's nest first, because the wind was unusually strong today, although the sky remained a bright blue.
Angelo nodded, although he thought that was probably overly optimistic. "Perhaps." It killed him to be so close to freedom he could almost taste it, and yet for all practical purposes as far away from it as if he were still in Antiva. He hated his cowardice, but what could he do? He had been wracking his brain ever since receiving this assignment, but just couldn't think of any realistic way to pull it off. It would be impossible to slip away from Korlys while they were in Ferelden, and there was no way the elf would agree to let him go, much less want to go with him! If there had ever been a loyal Crow, it was Korlys. He had worked his way to the top and somehow managed to become Nico's favorite. This was probably the mission that would get him promoted to the master level.
He turned to look at Korlys, meaning to suggest a push-up contest to replace their aborted race to the crow's nest, only to discover the elf was studying him with a thoughtful expression. Brasca! Had his thoughts shown through on his face somehow? "It will be good to finally be on solid ground after a month on this leaky tub, yes?" was all he could think to say.
"Truer words were never spoken," Korlys replied, the troublesome expression gone in an instant – not that that meant anything, of course.
But there was no use worrying about what could not be undone. Angelo turned his thoughts firmly away from freedom, resolving to never let them return. It was foolish to endanger his life for impossibilities. He grinned at his companion. "Push-up contest?"
The End
A/N:
See? We told you 'shortly' and it's only been a month and a half since the last chapter! One chapter a month is like some kind of record for us, right? :D And now that we are done, we can get back to book 2. Shortly. xD
Big thanks to the ridiculously awesome Bloodsong 13T for all of your help and suggestions with this story! *hugs*