Eighteen
Asariel 9:35
Cassius sat up in bed as he heard the latch on the door click and saw it crack open slightly across the dark room. It was past midnight. Everyone was asleep, or, at least, should have been asleep.
He squinted in the darkness but couldn't see anyone in the doorway. Cassius lifted his palm and summoned a small magelight, a tiny bouncing ball of yellow-white light that cast out across the room like a dim sun. Just as the light began to spread out, he heard the quickening patter of footsteps across the floor and then saw the figure leaping toward the bed before it came into the light.
The bed bounced and groaned as Valerie landed on it knees-first, laughing quietly as the mattress rocked up and down like rough seas.
"What are you doing?" Cassius asked under his voice as he glanced back toward the door, extending his hand to give it a slight telekinetic push until it quietly latched closed again.
Even while she was laughing, Valerie pressed her finger to her lips and shushed him. "Shhhhhh. You'll wake somebody up."
"And you running and jumping onto my bed won't?" Cassius retorted in a rushed whisper.
"I couldn't sleep," she said, brushing her hand back through her curly brown hair, pushing it back behind her ears. Cassius noticed that she was only wearing her nightgown, a thin, white garment that clung effortlessly against her body. "So I wanted to see if you were awake too."
"And if I wasn't?" he asked, knowing the answer.
"I would have woken you up," she replied, much as he expected, to which he gave a sarcastic nod that made her chuckle. She glanced at the small light in his hand and when he took notice, he tossed the small ball of magic toward the bedside table, where it floated inside the glass lamp and held there suspended in the bulb. "So, what are you doing awake anyway?"
Cassius shifted uncomfortably. "I had a nightmare."
"Oh," Valerie said softly. She didn't and couldn't truly understand the gravity and danger of having such chaotic dreams as she was not a mage, but she knew enough to know that it was serious when it happened. She also knew that he didn't talk about it. She had asked him about the experience once when they were younger and he had politely declined. When she didn't relent, he had snapped at her, as fiercely as if she had been poking into a raw and open wound upon his flesh.
He apologized profusely afterward and although she had forgiven him and apologized herself for prying, she had learned not to bring it up again.
Cassius' bad dreams came only sporadically now that he was an adult, not like he used to have when he was a child in the early months of manifesting his gift and that first year in the Circle. He had frequently been tormented in his sleep, so much so that the enchanters had to have a meeting about what to do about him. It wasn't until Enchanter Marianna had taught him how to still his mind and body before sleep that he had found more peaceful rest.
Still, there were times when even deliberate preparation before bed wasn't enough. There were times when his mind would conjure some new terror, requiring his mind to summon the necessary focus and attention bordering on consciousness. On those nights, when he woke, he often felt more exhausted than if he hadn't slept at all.
But, tonight, like many of the nights this past month, he dreamt of his Harrowing. Two months had passed since he had submitted himself to the test and succeeded, but in the sixty days since, he had dreamt of it eight times. Nine, counting tonight.
And, each time, it shook him to his core, remembering how close he had come to succumbing to the demon's deceit.
"Why are you awake?" Cassius asked, curious as to what had her up sneaking around the house instead of staying nestled in her bed.
Valerie shrugged. She never slept well, and never seemed to have a reason for why. That had been the case ever since she was a child, according to her parents. Andria cried a lot when she was an infant, but by the time she hit a year old she slept deeply and well. Kordellia slept so soundly that even throwing open the curtains and shaking her wasn't enough to rouse her some days. Servilia never wanted to sleep and never seemed to tire, but once she did eventually succumb to fatigue, she was out, often ending up turned at odd angles in her bed and tangled in the blankets like a fish caught up in a net. And Flavia, well, Flavia was her mother's perfect angel and dozed so peacefully she looked like a saintess in a temple fresco.
But then there was Valerie. Her mind was always churning and tough to slow, even long after the sun had set and there was nothing left worth pondering.
"I suppose I could use the company for a bit," Cassius offered. Even if he hadn't offered, he was sure Valerie would have imposed regardless.
"Good, because I–" Valerie was interrupted by the punctuating rap of knuckles on the door.
"Master Terro," came the voice from the other side of the door. "Is everything all right?"
Cassius recognized the voice. It was the old matronly slave. She usually woke multiple times per night with aches and pains and was known to wander the manor, quietly patrolling the halls as she stretched out her old, tired back, hips and legs that troubled her at night.
Valerie recognized the voice too and had a sudden moment of panic as she whispered frantically. "She can't find out I'm here!"
She was right. It was extremely improper for the magister's daughter to be alone with him in his bedroom in the middle of the night. Cassius would never do anything untoward and he was sure Magister Arrentius would believe him if he told the truth and explained the situation, but he had recently become more strict with Valerie regarding her behavior. She was less than a year now from her eighteenth birthday and he was growing more and more serious about trying to arrange a betrothal. Late night encounters with the lord's retainer were the kind of rumor that could cause numerous problems, regardless of how innocent they actually were.
"Yes," Cassius called back. "Just a moment."
Before he could formulate a plan, Valerie had already grabbed his covers and tossed them over her head, curling up against him on the far side of the bed away from the door. Cassius felt uncomfortable as she squeezed around him to try to disguise her profile as much as possible on the bed. He lifted one knee up under the blanket to tent it, further helping to hide Valerie on the leeward side of the peak of fabric. When he looked down and was satisfied that even he couldn't distinguish the lump in the covers as another person, he turned back toward the door.
"You may enter," he called back out to the darkness.
The door quietly opened and the old, grandmotherly slave halfway entered the room, holding the door as her top half slid inside the room. "My pardon, Master Terro, but I heard a noise."
"Yes," Cassius said, preparing the half-truth in his mind before speaking it. "I was dreaming and startled awake rather violently. But I'm fine now. I apologize if it spooked you."
"No worries, Master Terro," the old slave said with a wrinkled smile. "Is there anything you need me to fetch you. A drink or a damp towel?"
"No. Thank you," Cassius declined. "I'm going to try to get back to sleep soon."
The old slave nodded, satisfied. She began to retreat out of the door and stopped just before her head disappeared on the other side.
"Good night, Master Terro," she said. "You too, Mistress Valerie."
The old woman gave a warm smile and disappeared as she shut the door silently behind her.
Minrathous 9:41
Valerie sniffled and wiped the corner of her eye as she glanced over the folded piece of paper Alex had just handed to her. He had slipped up to the table quietly during a lull in the conversation and dropped it without a word in Valerie's lap.
She read the small note, folded the paper and placed it in her lap, sniffling again as she looked back up at her dinner partners.
"Felix Alexius has died," she announced, lowering her eyes to the table and sniffling a third time, doing her best to hold back tears.
The eyes of her dinner partners – Cassius, Lysander Vespasian and Plinius Paverii – all dropped at the grim news. A heavy silence fell over the table, their silverware silenced as they halted for a moment of quiet mourning and contemplation.
He had delivered his chamber-shattering speech to the Magisterium in the afternoon on the day before. Cassius had remembered how gaunt and gray he had looked, how he sweated and swayed and looked likely to collapse right upon the chamber floor. It was shocking, but perhaps not surprising, to hear he had expired so soon afterward.
He had poured every last bit of his soul onto the floor of the Magisterium in his speech. And although the resolution he rose in support of had failed, no one who had sat in the chamber yesterday afternoon would soon forget the power, passion and conviction in his voice as he condemned the failures of his father and the Venatori cause that had seduced him. Cassius was sure he wouldn't.
"A good man," Plin said to break the moment of silence. "He'll be missed."
"Agreed," Lysander said, raising his wine cup. "To Felix. May he find peace."
The others raised their glasses and drank as well, in memory of the young man, gone too soon. As they placed their cups back down, no one motioned to retrieve their silverware, all a little paralyzed by the news.
Cassius wasn't sure who exactly was next in line in the Alexius family, but what he did know was that the loss of both Geron and Felix within the year was a massive blow to the family and a massive blow to the Venatori cause. He somehow doubted whoever was next in line would be terribly friendly to their cause after experiencing the losses they had just experienced.
Valerie wiped her eyes with the back of her hands again and gestured at the table. "Eat, please."
The three men cast glances at each other and obeyed, picking up their knives and forks and returning to their plates. Valerie paused a moment longer and then scooped up her own silverware once again and returned to her meal.
"Is everything prepared for next week?" she asked, getting back to the business at hand, the reason why she had gathered them for dinner in the first place.
"Yes, the bill is scheduled for the morning floor session, first day," Cassius said. He spent the afternoon checking and then rechecking the agenda for any changes. Magister Arrentius' bill on shipping duties had cleared committee and was ready for consideration by the Magisterium at large. Coming off the victory over Magister Tilani's anti-Venatori resolution, Valerie had been lobbying other magisters hard for their support.
"We should have plenty of overhead on it," Lysander added. "The anti-tax conservatives are a lost cause. They won't vote for anything that takes a single coin out of anyone's pockets regardless of how needed it is. But it's naturally popular with every magister with a dock on the Nocen and many of the military hawks are supportive too, because they want the extra funds for the war effort. Even some of the liberals like it, because they think the extra government revenue could end up funding their initiatives."
"Not likely," Plin interjected with a snort. "Zero percent of that three percent for the central government will be put toward anything useful. More likely three percent directly into the archon's pockets."
"Probably, but no one ever said those liberals were smart," Lysander quipped.
"What about Magister Tilani and her faction?" Cassius asked. "I somehow doubt that she hasn't sniffed out that this would help the Venatori."
Magister Tilani was just one voice and her caucus of upstarts didn't wield any significant power at this point. Still, recent experience made him hypersensitive to her influence. She was an opponent, a spider, spinning a web of silk strands so thin that they couldn't be seen until one wandered into them and, by then, it was too late.
"I wouldn't be surprised if she opposes it, but it shouldn't matter," Plin said. "Old money stands to benefit the most and that will override any misgivings they might have about the biggest winners and losers."
"My father has whipped the Minrathian magisters and many of the interior magisters," Lysander added. "While the heartland won't directly benefit from a change in port duties, he's won favor by pledging support from the sea lords on some kind of agricultural measures that bored me to hear about them.
"All in all, it's a done deal," Lysander punctuated. "It will pass."
"You're sure?" Valerie asked, fretting. "My father made it clear this must pass."
"It will," Lysander reassured her.
Cassius glanced up from his dinner at Plin, who raised an eyebrow skeptically at Lysander's guarantee, but ultimately said nothing. Nothing ever was fully certain upon the floor of the Magisterium. He had learned that early in his days as a page. And anyone who spoke with that kind of absolute certainty was setting themselves up to be humbled. Over the years, he had watched multiple pieces of sure-thing legislation Magister Arrentius had backed fall through. All it took was one influential person to make one amendment or spread one piece of misleading information to grip hearts and minds. Then all anyone could do is watch the ship founder and sink.
That being said, Cassius had done his own straw polling among the pages and clerks working adjacent to the magisters and confirmed a similar outcome. The bill seemed to easily have enough support to clear the floor, with plenty of cushion.
"All right," Valerie said, seemingly satisfied, with an exhausted sigh. She had spent the last few days in meetings and lunches and more meetings and dinners, currying favor. After all that, she was reviewing legislation and going over strategy and speech writing with Cassius until the late evening. She was wearing herself thin working so hard. It reminded Cassius very much of her father in his younger days, before his health problems had set in and slowed him down.
Cassius, too, was wearing down. Aside from helping and coaching Valerie, the Venatori were keeping him busy, too. Magister Porenni apparently thought that, as a Praeteri, that made him the best suited to run around Minrathous on any and every errand to advance their cause. He had spent countless hours at the docks simply standing around waiting for ships to come in carrying supplies that they would be sending south and making sure none of the dock authorities took too much of an interest in what was moving off the water and into the city. He had handed out more bribes than he cared to admit and grown sour at just how corrupt the port inspectors actually were. With the right amount of coin, Cassius was fairly certain they'd let darkspawn in.
In what little spare time he had, he had been working to try to trace the source of the leak, if there was one. The Decade hadn't brought down a hammer upon him yet, but he could still feel it dangling somewhere above his head just waiting to strike. Unfortunately, since someone cut the throat of Cerak the Terrible and the Captain of the Black Oars – Plinius' missing contact the night that they discovered Cerak dead had turned up the following day, just as dead as the former bandit incognito – their mole had grown quiet.
His reports from Magister Arrentius continued to arrive and Cassius continued to be bothered by Flavius' note that the Inquisition was regularly continuing to intercept some of their shipments moving south. The frequency had picked up a bit as the southern heretics had more or less secured Ferelden and had since moved en force to Orlais. Not only were they making solid progress in the empire, their agents had outposts and presence in the other realms – the Free Marches, Antiva, Rivain and Nevarra, perhaps even within Tevinter.
Magister Porenni could no doubt sense a change in momentum, too, as he had sped up their timetable for the false flag attack in Nevarra. He wanted to move before the end of the month and was rushing the process. Cassius wondered if haste was bringing sloppiness, and that was allowing their enemies to more easily suss out their purpose and counter it. Regardless, if they acted quickly, they could unfurl their plan before the enemy fully understood it.
"Well, now that that's settled," Lysander said as he reached below the table and then produced two slips of paper for Valerie. "I have two tickets to the theater tonight, and I would be honored if you would accompany me."
"Oh Lysander, I appreciate the thought, but–" she said before he interrupted her.
"But nothing," he insisted. "You deserve a bit of rest and relaxation. Everything is well in hand, and one night at the theater won't change that. These are excellent seats and I hear the show is spectacular."
"Well," Valerie said, reddening slightly at being asked out for the evening in front of the other two men. "I suppose. Thank you."
"It will be my honor and pleasure," he said with a smile as he tucked the tickets away and crossed his silverware over his plate, leaving a few bites uneaten. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must retire to change and prepare. Lady Valerie, I will arrive in an hour's time at your chamber to escort you."
Lysander pushed back from the table, gave a slight bow to his dinner guests and was on his way.
"I suppose we'll have to reschedule, Caz," Valerie said.
"Don't worry about it. Enjoy yourself," he said. Lysander was right, there was little else that needed to be done, although he would have preferred to have spent the evening together, talking and reminiscing as they did nearly every night when the work was done but neither was ready to retire to sleep.
"Cassius," Plinius started, "While I don't have anything so fancy as theater tickets, if you'd join me, I have a matter of business I'd like to discuss. Privately, though I mean no offense, Lady Valerie."
"None taken," she said with a smile. "You boys have fun. I suppose I need to find a suitable dress to wear. Maybe fix my hair."
Valerie continued muttering to herself as she stood up and excused herself from the table too, retiring to her quarters to prepare for her night out. That left Cassius and Plinius alone at the table.
"That one has the subtlety of an ogre in Val Royeaux, doesn't he?" Plinius said, motioning toward Lysander's empty seat with a slight tilt of his head.
Cassius just laughed at that as he lifted his glass and drank the remainder of his wine.
"We're here," Plinius said as he stopped in front of the dimly lit building.
The windows were covered and emitting only the faintest orange-red glow. The door was heavy. The sign hanging out front had the picture of a woman rising out of the sea, a thin haze of mist covering her body like a shredded dress. The establishment was called "Serenity."
Cassius wasn't familiar with this part of the city. It was dark and seedy and everyone who they passed by seemed to watch them closely until they were out of sight. The buildings were carved up by narrow alleys, dark passages that made the streets like a maze. It was no doubt a haven for cutpurses, who could steal and then dart through the jagged alleys and make a clean escape.
Fiora had accompanied them, on Plinius' suggestion, actually, and said that while she wasn't familiar with this exact part of the city, she remembered places like it from her youth. A person could get in a lot of trouble in a place like this, she said, and Cassius sensed that she was speaking from experience. She was clearly uncomfortable as they wandered through the narrow streets.
Plinius, through his network of contacts in Minrathous – who exactly those were and what they did, he didn't elaborate on but the way he spoke clearly gave the impression that they probably operated in the underworld – he had turned up a lead about who had killed the two mercenary captains they had hired for the Nevarra job. Cassius had spent years in and around the capital but wasn't exactly sure how a person went about hiring an assassin, much less go about figuring out how and who someone else hired for a job.
He spent his time in the Magisterium and as a retainer to a noble house, but there was an entirely separate shadow world that he was aware existed but not privy to.
"Is this… a brothel?" Cassius asked as he looked at the sign and the facade of the building, including a rather burly guardsman standing out front.
"Massage house, officially," Plinius said as he nodded to the doorman, who nodded back and stepped aside to let them in. "Whether they engage in some illicit activity, well, that's between them and the local authorities."
They stepped inside and closed the door behind them. The somewhat unimpressive exterior belied a rather lavish interior. They walked into a front reception room filled with low couches upholstered in plush, expensive fabrics, tables made of gold and glass, and expensive-looking hardwood chairs. The dim light from the outside was from the dim light of magic-powered globes hanging from the ceiling. The air was filled with some kind of fragrance Cassius couldn't put his finger on.
There were a few men sitting around, chatting quietly. They were attended to by elven slaves, dressed in all black, carrying drinks and food. There was a rounded table against the back wall, with two richly dressed women behind it, controlling access to the only other door except the one back to the street.
"Come on," Plin said, "We're expected."
As they approached the back counter, the older of the two women, with curled blonde and gray hair and wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, smiled and nodded to Plinius.
"Room twelve," she said. "Try not to make a mess."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Plinius said without any humor as he kept walking, slipping through the door to the back of the building like he owned the place. It was just one long hall, with doors on either side to the individual, private rooms. Each had a number on it and they passed looking for number twelve. Cassius tried to ignore the indistinct sounds coming from within and had to tug at Fiora's arm when she tried to stop and press her ear to the door of one room that was particularly noisy.
As they came to room twelve at the end of the hall, Plinius didn't bother to knock, simply walked in. Cassius followed, with Fiora in tow behind him. Inside, a man was lying face down on the table, nude. A wiry elven woman was rubbing his back, but stopped when she saw them entering.
"About time," the elf said as she lifted up her hands and stepped back.
"What's going on?" the man asked, annoyed, and started to lift his body up from the table to see, but before he could get up, Plinius had his hand on the back of the man's neck and shoved him down hard, pinning him to the table.
"You don't need to get up," Plinius said. As the man began to squirm, Plinius applied more pressure, crushing his neck against the table until the man grunted in pain and started to choke as his throat was pinned down. "Fiora, be a dear and put the edge of that sword against his neck. Feel free to start sawing if he doesn't cooperate."
He didn't have to ask twice, as Fiora happily pulled her saber off her hip and rested it against the back of the man's neck.
"Alright, alright," the man said, holding up his hands as best he could while still prone on the table, trying not to accidentally squirm too much and open his own flesh on the edge of Fiora's blade. "Let's take it easy."
"Cassius, this is Zife the Knife," Plinius said.
"Zife?" Cassius said, turning the unusual name over on his tongue.
"It is a terrible name," Plinius said. "An idiotic name created by an idiotic man. What's your real name, idiot?"
"What?" the confused naked man on the table asked.
"Your real name," Plinius demanded. "The name your mother gave you, assuming you had one."
"It's Jacinto," Zife the Knife answered, confused but compliant.
"Sounds Antivan," Plinius continued. "Is that Antivan?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's Antivan," Zife said.
"And what the hell is 'Zife?'" Plinius continued, chasing the point.
"It's just a dumb rhyme," Jacinto said, exasperated. "Business trick. Makes it easy to remember. Builds word-of-mouth."
Plinius snorted. "Our idiot is a businessman now. How many men have you knifed this year, Zife?"
"I don't know," he quibbled.
"How many?" Plinius pursued, more forcefully, with his voice raised.
That volume made Zife the Knife jump, which caused him to bump the edge of Fiora's sword, which bit gently into his skin, which caused him to hiss and curse as red blood seeped up and wet the edge of the saber. "Uhh, twelve. Maybe thirteen."
"Maybe thirteen?" Plinius asked.
"Look, I don't remember, I don't remember," Zife pleaded.
Plinius glanced over at Cassius. Cassius shrugged, because he didn't really know what else to say or do. Plinius continued.
"Word has it you knifed two mercenary captains down by the docks recently. Do you remember them? Quillan of the Black Iron and Terrent of the Black Oars." Plinius asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I do."
"Who hired you to kill them?"
"Man, I can't tell you that…" Zife whined.
"You can, and you will, or you may be leaving this room with fewer arms that I have," Plinius said. "And I know you can't see me while you're laying down, but just a note, I only have one arm."
"What! Come on, man, I can't…. you can't go around blabbing your client's names. That's bad for business," Zife protested.
"I wonder if people will want to hire Goonich the Eunuch then," Plinius mused, creating his own stupid-sounding rhyming name for their new friend.
Cassius guessed those threats were just theatrics, but as he looked at Plinius' face, the side that wasn't covered by his shroud to hide where the Qunari axe had mangled half of his head, he wasn't so sure they were as empty as he might have thought. In the time they had spent working together, Plinius wasn't the joking type. He was serious and austere and clearly didn't have patience for people who acted foolishly or flippantly.
"All right, all right," Zife said, putting his hands up again as high as he could without cutting himself again. "He didn't give me his name and I didn't see his face. He was wearing a metal mask. Talked quietly. Had a bunch of rings on his left hand."
"That's not good enough, Zife," Plinius pressed, annoyed.
"He paid half up front," Zife stammered, spilling out whatever he could as fast as he could. "Said I had to knife them that night to get the rest. Said they'd have a bunch of gold on them, too, that I could keep after I cut them up. He was right. They were both loaded."
"I'm still not satisfied…" Plinius complained.
"We met down by the canal, by the Magisterium. Closer than I like to get to that place, but we were down by the water, by one of the drains. Out of sight, in the dark," Zife continued.
"Was he a magister?" Plinius asked.
"I don't know."
"Come on, Zife. Do better."
"He… uhh… Oh! The second half of the payment! It was a dead drop, next day. I dropped in proof that the job was done. Payment showed up that night after dark. I didn't like it, sounded like I was gonna get stiffed, but the half up front was enough to make me gamble it," Zife said. "But he came through. Money was there."
"Where was the dead drop?" Plinius followed, latching on to that detail, his interest piqued.
"In the market. Tucked in the drain, under a loose grate behind the butcher," he said.
Plinius glanced at Fiora and Cassius and gave a nod. Fiora lifted the sword. Zife the Knife didn't move from the table, even after feeling the pressure was off.
"Your massage is over," Plinius announced. "Get dressed and don't come back."
"Sure, sure thing. Whatever you say, boss," Zife agreed, nodding his head up and down while still looking at the floor.
Plinius gestured toward the door. "Orchid," he said to the elven girl before they left. "Always a pleasure."
"Come see me soon," she replied with a wink and blew him a kiss. That made Fiora smirk wide as she looked at Cassius and jumped her eyebrows suggestively. Cassius shook his head to discourage her from asking about it. They followed Plin out into the hall and closed the door behind him.
"That was fun," Fiora said as the door shut. She wiped the edge of her sword on her pants leg to clean the bit of blood off, then dropped the sword back at her belt.
"The dead drop," Cassius said, ignoring her. "We can use that, can't we?"
"Yes," Plinius said, bringing his hand to his chin as he thought. "Yes, we can."
