IX: Damage Control
Now
It had taken some time for the pair to navigate the tunnel system beneath the surface of the island, especially with what meagre lighting could be afforded by a lone lantern, but they eventually emerged unscathed without encountering anyone. By the time they exited to daylight, the sun was high in the sky, its rays only obscured by the heavy cloud of dark smoke that continued to hang over the island.
"Fires are still raging," Kythra remarked, squinting at the plumes of black smoke emitting from the central district.. "I may reconsider your reward if there's nothing left of my city at the end of things."
Dace pointed at a tall building that cast an overbearing presence above the rest of the western docks district. The headquarters of the Family. "There stands our goal."
"Yes, I know where I live. What exactly is your play here? Do you intend to just walk in? Even with the smoke in the air, that would still amount to charging the front gates in broad daylight."
"There are ways to pierce any stronghold. Your man Harken has had time to prepare, yet he only knows to turn his gaze outward. Come, we need to scout their defenses. By nightfall, this will all be over."
"We've just received word that Raine was found dead at his estate this morning. Ha. If I had known he wasn't long for this world, I would have swiped a few of his art pieces last night," Harken said, addressing the room. "Never liked the old man, but at least he and his Company were predictable and willing to deal with us. And we all know who is behind it. With the central district already in flames, it's but a certainty where they'll be fluttering next."
Damon stood off to the side, leaning back against the wooden wall with crossed arms as he listened and observed the room. He didn't relish the act of working alongside these miscreants, but he knew his mission would demand such things.
His new "ally", Harken, stood at one end of the table. A map of the district lay before him, and there were about a dozen of his... associates surrounding the table, all looking toward their colleague with either rapt attention or bemusement.
"Kythra knows these streets, so I want double the guards at every main road between here and the central district."
Keeping his facial expression stoic, Damon couldn't help but scoff inwardly at the room. They called themselves the "Family", yet they were all too eager to turn their blades on one of their own.
Someone loudly cleared their throat from the crowd. Harken fell silent and all heads turned toward the opposite end of the table. Leaning to the side to get a better view, Damon saw that the centre of attention was a man with wavy brown hair. He appeared younger and slighter than Harken and the others, yet seemed to command the room as he spoke.
"She knows this area as well as any of us, so why would she just storm us from the front?"
Harken smirked and raised a finger, drawing an invisible point in the air. "Kythra and her companion are certainly no fools. They'll be looking for a weakness in our positions. I say we give them one... not so open to be obvious, but enough to bait them."
The man at the other end nodded, but the pensive look on his face made it clear he was unconvinced.
Damon waited patiently as Harken assigned patrol orders to the rest of the Family's guards, then dismissed the lost. As the men filtered out, only Harken, Damon, and the young man across the table remained.
"You don't agree with my orders?" asked Harken, grinning and cocking his head to the side.
"I don't agree with your methods," said the younger man. Unlike Harken and the rest of his fellows, the young man was dressed in a simple white tunic, and did not have the countenance of one familiar with combat. "Is this "Dace" really as skilled and violent as you say? You told me you encountered him but once."
"He absolutely is," Damon spoke for the first time since entering the room. "A ruthless blackheart of the lowest order. Underestimate him at your peril."
Pointing an open hand toward the paladin as he looked toward Harken, the young man asked, "And who is this, exactly?"
"As you may have heard, Kythra brought in outside aid in the form of the mercenary. So I brought some aid of our own. Sir Damon No-Last-Name, Knight of Helm. He's been hunting this outsider, Dace, for years apparently." Harken looked toward Damon as he gestured a hand to the man at the other end of the table. "Sir No-Last-Name, be pleased to meet Rentris, also called Alagon the Younger, freshly-ordained head of the Family."
Neither introductee made any move to shake hands. Rentris merely gave a curt nod. "If you've spent years pursuing him, then I wonder how effective you are that he is still free." He waved a hand toward the district map. "I would prefer to solve this problem without violence, but I don't know this Dace, or if he would stand down if confronted. Gods know he's done enough damage to my city. Just know this; I'll make you the same offer I've made to the rest of my men and to anyone else interested. My sister, Kythra, must be brought in alive and unharmed. I've promised an open bounty for five thousand gold to whomever brings her to me."
"I am not driven by coin," said Damon.
Rentris gave another short nod. "I can respect that. I can also respect that as a knight, you live by a code. So I know that you will avoid any undue bloodshed."
Harken frowned at this, but Damon said nothing.
"Well then," Rentris continued. "I'll bid you swift hunting, gentlemen. And sir knight, I look forward to hearing your tale of victory."
Every street was lined with displaced men, women, and children. All were probably forced from their homes in the central district by the inferno. Many were sobbing between coughs as the thick grey smoke permeated the air.
These things made it easier for Dace and Kythra to move without catching anyone's notice. Slow though their passing was, most of the people they crossed by were too absorbed with their own plights to mark the two figures.
"Every main thoroughfare is blocked by at least one checkpoint or patrol," Kythra remarked. It was simple enough to spot and avoid the men who formerly served her father; she trained alongside most of them, once upon a time. Now she was memorizing their faces so she'd remember who among them should be punished later. "We'll have to travel the alleyways. Maybe approach from the south. Someone is bound to trigger an alarm if we attempt a frontal assault."
"Is there a less conspicuous way into the building?" asked Dace. "A servant's entrance, or an escape route that might avoid notice?"
"The ancient tunnels that run below the island, perhaps. There's an open well southwest of here that connects to a partially collapsed one. My father once told me it could be used in an emergency, despite the risks. And I once squeezed through a gap in the rubble back in my youth. But it might be just as protected as the roads; I always suspected that Rentris might have also heard about it from my father."
"We can make our way around and deal with whatever is there. If the streets are narrower, their numbers will have less of an impact."
Kythra nodded, and began leading the way.
"I've got to tell you, since I came to this island, life's been a breeze. Working with the Family, I'm well paid, people know who I am and what influence I wield. But do you want to know the biggest downside?"
"No." Damon didn't even spare a glance at Harken, remaining fixed on the small clearing before them.
"It gets a little boring without strife. Every oyster needs a bit of grit, you know?" Harken was standing behind a wall next to the window, content to allow the knight to keep a vigil for their targets. "I'll say this much; I'm more than happy to see this old hound put down. But I'll be damned if he hasn't made life more interesting here than it's been in a long time. Who knows? Maybe I just found my new rival."
"He's not one to be taken lightly, and it's not a game," Damon growled. "I have prepared my whole life for this moment."
"Now that sounds boring. You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say when you came to our city, you were looking to leave with a corpse. And I don't, so I just did." Harken, despite the wide grin, gave the paladin a shrewd look. "I've seen it in your eyes, well enough. You aren't seeking a prisoner, you're looking for a body's-worth of blood. You won't say it aloud, not me, not to your order, maybe not even to the mirror. You came to this island knowing full well there was murder in your future."
He leaned in and tapped the knight's metal trunk with his foot, provoking a hollow sound from the chest and a dark glare from Damon. "Not quite large enough for a living person, but you could certainly cram a dead one in there, if you crack a few of his limbs first."
"You talk too much. No wonder your boss doesn't trust you." He turned and moved toward the stairs. "I will wait along with your man on the roof."
"No need to be offended, fine sir! Every honest man has a little murder in his heart," Harken called after the paladin as he pointed a thumb out the window, toward the well in the centre of the square. "And my men are only too eager to oblige that notion."
Wordless, Dace stepped from the alley alone, moving with a steady gait as he approached the well in the middle of the clearing. The smoke wasn't so dense in this part of the district, which made it all the more noticeable that the area was completely deserted, save for a few rats milling about the stone base of the well.
Casually stopping several metres from the well's edge, he reached under his black cloak and slowly drew his dagger, pinching it by the flat of its blade. Holding the weapon aloft, directly up overhead, Dace turned himself around, doing a slow rotation, eyes shifting from building to building, window to window.
When he completed his revolution, Dace's arm suddenly drew back and then snapped forward. In an instant, the dagger pierced one of the rats, pinning one of the vermin to the ground. The rest of the rodents immediately scurried away, amid fearful squeaks.
Dace raised his arms outward, palms held outward. He made no move to retrieve his blade and remained in this state, waiting patiently.
After a drawn-out moment, the sound of a slow clap echoed from one of the ramshackle buildings. Harken emerged from its shadowy interior, his ever-present grin still on his face.
"Well, that was quite a dramatic display, ratcatcher," he said, his tone full of sarcasm. "But all I see is an old fool who threw his weapon away. You and the wayward daughter have certainly left a mess of things in your wake." He raised his voice to a shout, "I hope you realize, Kythra, you've lost any chance of the Family taking you back in. None of us ever wanted someone like you leading us. Your father held on through intimidation and spilled blood, but time and age will topple every tyrant."
"She was right about one thing; you talk too much," Dace said, turning his head slightly.
"Hmph. People keep telling me that today."
At this point, Harken seemed to notice that Dace was staring to the side at one of the building rooftops.
"Your men are amateurs." Dace sneered and remarked, "I eyed all three of them the moment I walked out here."
"They're just here to keep things... honest." Harken raised an open hand in the air, and three of his thugs appeared at the edges of the surrounding rooftops, armed with crossbows. All had their loaded weapons trained on the mercenary.
"It's a funny thing, you know," Harken continued. "Ren has placed a hefty open bounty on his sister's safe incarceration. Five thousand gold to not kill a target, if you can believe that." The grin on his lips somehow managed to stretch even wider across his face. "And yet, not even a copper for your head. So killing you? That'll just have to be an enjoyable little bonus for me."
"No," Dace said without raising his voice, "I will be escorting her inside for an audience with her brother. Through you, if need be."
"Your hand is still injured from our last encounter, I see." Harken pointed at Dace's bandaged palm. "Let's see if my men can give you a matching set." He snapped his fingers in the air.
A 'twang' sound echoed through the air, followed by a cry from one of the buildings. Harken turned in time to see one of his men tumble forward off the roof, a crossbow bolt protruding from his neck.
Glancing around to the rest of his guards, Harken's ever-present grin faltered. One of them was gone, and Kythra stood in his place, now carrying his crossbow. The third henchman, the one who had been waiting with the vengeful paladin, was gone as well with nary a trace.
"Kythra believed you could not possibly be stupid enough to fall for the same tactic twice. Idiocy knows no bounds." With his opponent distracted, Dace removed a black, fist-sized sphere from his belt. "At least you had one good idea earlier."
He pitched it as hard as he could at the ground. The smoke bomb shattered, sending a blast of thick, white vapours into the air around them. Just as the opaque mists clouded the square, Dace saw Kythra loose a second bolt, this time out where Harken was standing. Dace immediately heard the man scream and curse in pain.
Stepping backward, Dace moved until he felt his heel hit the stone base of the well. Retrieving his dagger from the ground, Dace kept his eyes trained ahead, anticipating an attack from Harken. He circled around to the other side of the well, placing it between him and his opponent.
There was a sudden scrape of gravel coming from behind. Dace pivoted, slashing out with his blade. A strong hand caught the mercenary by the wrist, and began crushing his arm. The figure was leaner and more statuesque than Harken. The smoke made it difficult to make out the stranger's face, but Dace caught the glint of metal coming from the man's neck. A holy symbol of some kind?
The mercenary didn't have time to dwell on it. Uttering a few strange syllables, the stranger's eyes briefly flashed with a golden light, followed by a similar glow from the hand that gripped Dace's wrist. The light felt like it was a flame burning at his skin, and for a moment the mercenary's focus was completely disrupted.
"I don't need to be able to see you when I can sense your stark, evil presence, even on this vile isle."
In his stunned state, Dace was unable to move or react as the newcomer reared back and then struck the mercenary between the eyes with a haymaker. Taking the full force of the blow, Dace fell backward, toppling over the edge of the well and into the cavernous darkness below. He blacked out as his head collided with the ground.