Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) (43 page)

The woman was halfway across the room before she looked up
and gasped, stumbling into the man. The startled man was so preoccupied with
catching the woman that he did not notice the cause for her distress.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
the woman shrieked into the man’s ear. The man flinched at the high-pitched
sound but immediately jerked his head around to see to whom the woman was
speaking.

Rezkin continued to lounge, casually swirling the amber
liquid in his glass. Once the man and woman were straightened out, he said,
“Which question should I address first?”

“What?” came the startled reply. “I mean, get out of here!
Guards!” the woman shouted.

The man finally shook himself from his surprise and pulled
an overly long dagger from his pants. The dagger looked far too long to fit
comfortably in its hiding place, and Rezkin wondered how the man had
accomplished such a feat. He tossed the thought aside for another time and
said, “I do not believe your guards will hear you since the room is surrounded
by a sound-proofing ward. Although, you should know that since it is
your
room.”

The woman huffed and took a step to turn back toward the
door. She stopped abruptly when a small dagger whisked past her shoulder and
lodged in the doorframe. “You may, of course, continue to seek assistance, but
you will not live long enough to accomplish the task if you do,” the intruder
stated calmly.

Turning back with a pale face, the woman repeated one of her
earlier questions. “Who are you?”

Rezkin smirked and said, “I think you know the answer to
that one.”

The man’s fist clenched tighter around his dagger, and he
said, “The Raven.”

The intruder inclined his head and replied, “That is what
they call me. I am pleased that my reputation precedes me. It makes this so
much easier.”

“You want my guild,” the woman stated in challenge.

“Your guild is already
mine
,” Rezkin replied. “You
just have not accepted it, yet.”

“What makes you think I’ll give it up so easily?” the woman
countered, her face sour and her lips pursed.

“Oh, I know you will not. In fact, I know you intend to
betray me when you think I have let down my guard.” The woman sucked in a quick
breath, and the man groaned. Rezkin grinned knowing the only part of his face
they could see was his mouth. “You should learn not to voice your intentions so
loudly, especially when you intend to betray someone.”

The man looked a bit ill. His face was ashen, and he gulped
repeatedly. The woman’s face burned with a pink flush that might have been
attractive under different circumstances.

She shrugged and said, “What do you expect? It is my duty as
Guildmaster to look out for the interests of the guild.”

“Are you so certain it is in the guild’s best interests to
defy
me
?” Rezkin asked, contempt thick and heavy in his voice.

Uncertainty slid over the woman’s gaze as she replied, “One
does not simply hand over power because a stranger demands it. This is
my
guild. I have
earned
my place.”

“Perhaps. How exactly did you
earn
this
place?”
Rezkin asked with a slight tilt of his head. His tone was knowing even though
he had no idea how the woman came to be guildmaster.

The woman’s posture shifted from stiff surprise and
antagonism to one of sultry arrogance. She shrugged one shoulder and swayed her
hips as she said, “My late
husband
did not exactly know what he was
getting into.”

Ah
. The woman was a fraud. She married the poor noble
to whom this estate belonged. She had probably duped him into thinking she was
a lady, and he had likely overlooked certain flaws for the benefits of her
physical attributes. Rezkin recognized that most men would see her as quite
alluring, but he saw only the hidden teeth and claws. His one and only
experience with a woman had been quite effective in curing him of the fatal
weakness men had toward women, especially women like this. Actually,
this
woman reminded him quite a bit of that other woman.

The intruder scoffed. “You take a noble House and waste its
resources on common thievery. Simple plans for simple minds,” he mused. He
plucked a parchment off the desk and read the signature at the bottom:
Lady
Hilith Gadderand
. He performed a quick mental search through the seemingly
endless lists of Houses he had memorized. Gadderand was a minor offshoot, by
several generations, of House Ruolt, which held a countship under the authority
of Duke Darning. Gadderand held no lands of its own, but obviously had enough
wealth to maintain an estate in the capital city of Kaibain, the Seat of the
King.

“I’ll have you know it’s not easy getting into a noble
House,” Hilith replied. “Those who recognize
true
talent commend my
accomplishments,” she said with a proud lift of her chin.

Rezkin was out of his seat and across the room faster than
either could react. He stood before the woman and gripped her jaw firmly in his
right hand as he gazed at her from the shadow of his cowl. His left hand held a
thin knife, the tip resting just under her partner’s ribs. The woman’s startled
eyes stared back into the shadowed recess trying to catch a glimpse of his face
and understand what was happening.

“
True
talent?” the intruder inquired with scorn, his
deep, quiet rumble brushing softly over her ears. “You are originally from the
East, Krellis, perhaps? You eventually moved to Umbrell where you began an
apprenticeship with a seamstress.” Rezkin recognized the slight nuances in her
speech. The tiny lilt at the end of some of her words spoke of an eastern
origin, while the slight clip was particular to the river town further to the
south. Her long fingers were crisscrossed and dotted with tiny white lines
where she had been repeatedly nicked with sheers and needles, more so than was
typical for a woman who was not employed in such a profession.

The woman’s eyes widened further in surprise. “How-…” she
started but was cut off by The Raven’s tight grip.

He tilted her head to the side and then back and said, “You
found yourself in disgrace, hiding away in a brothel. You eventually ended up
here, in Kaibain, where you began looking for an easy mark.” He leaned forward,
closing the distance between their faces. Hilith could not mistake his
closeness for one of desire. It was completely hostile and domineering. She
shivered under his control.

“Do not mistake a lonely man’s willingness to overlook your
flaws for a sign of
talent
. You are easy to read,
Hilith
,” The
Raven warned. Of course, he knew her name was not Hilith. Hilith was a
fictional character, a ruse.

The woman blinked several times, holding back unshed tears.
The Raven’s tight grip dug painfully into her jaw, but it was his words that
truly stung. “You are wrong,” she whispered.

Rezkin was momentarily taken aback. The last part of his
assessment had been mostly conjecture based on her current
profession
and the manner in which she comported herself. It was entirely possible that he
was wrong, but he doubted it. He loosened his grip slightly to allow the woman
to speak. The proximity, the dominance, the taking of liberties in touching
her, was all strategy, a form of psychological manipulation. Based on his
calculated profile of the woman, he felt this tactic would be the most
effective.

When The Raven’s fingers loosened, Hilith took it as a sign
that she was permitted to speak. She inhaled deeply and said, “It is never a
disgrace to bear a child.” The woman’s eyes glistened as she spoke, revealing a
hidden inner turmoil.

Rezkin searched deeply in her eyes and made another quick assessment,
solely based on instinct. He released her jaw and stepped back, his knife
vanishing as though it had never been. She failed to hide the briefest spark of
triumph, but it was too late. He had already judged her. “You do not fool me,
Hilith
.
Any child you might have borne was scraped from your womb long before it could
take breath.”

Hilith’s jaw clamped shut, and the flicker of smug
satisfaction disappeared along with the false tears. The woman was nothing if
not consistent. Once a fraud…

Hilith scowled deeply with burning hatred. “What do you know
of it? How did you get your information?” she spat vindictively. The man next
to her took a step back, a plethora of emotions flashing across his face.
Rezkin was satisfied he had gotten under the façade to reveal the serpent
beneath.

“I am claiming this guild, Hilith, but I am afraid there
simply is no place for
you
. Unfortunately, you are the enemy that cannot
be permitted to linger at my back. Tomorrow morning, the city post will report
that a robbery occurred this night. Lady Hilith Gadderand, widow to the late
Lord Gadderand, was killed during the home invasion. Having no heirs, Gadderand
was survived only by his brother who will inherit the property and all its
wealth.

“You can’t do this!” Hilith screeched. “
I
am Master
of this guild! My people will fight you!”

“Maybe, but it will not matter to
you
.
You
will be dead,” Rezkin nonchalantly replied as he stepped back behind the desk.

“Do something, Breck! Kill the bloody gutterrat!” Hilith
ordered, her accent degenerating to that of a common street urchin.

Breck’s attention was not focused on the intruder, though.
He was looking at
her
in horror. “You said you had a miscarriage.”

“What?” the woman gasped in consternation. “That’s not
important! Get rid of
him
!” she shouted as she jerked her head toward
the intruder.

Breck shook his head, his complete focus on the woman, as
though Rezkin did not exist. “If you lied about that one, what about
ours
?
Did you kill
our
child, too?” Breck asked, his voice choked but filling
with anger.

“Don’t be absurd. We’re not talking about this right now!
Priorities
,
Breck!” Hilith scolded as she attempted to redirect Breck’s attention to the
present threat.

Breck balled his fists as his face flushed in anger. “No, we
are
talking about this now! What about our baby, Hilith?” he shouted as
he stomped toward the woman. “You killed him, didn’t you? You KILLED my son!”

Hilith’s face flooded with fear as she stumbled back from
the furious Second. “No!” she shouted. “Stop, Breck! It wasn’t like that!”

Breck raised a heavy fist as he reached for the woman. “You
DID! Don’t deny it!”

“No, Breck! You don’t understand!” Hilith shouted as she
cowered away. “I couldn’t have…” she started, but Breck grabbed her arm and
yanked her roughly toward him. Just as he was about to strike the crying woman
she shouted, “THERE WAS NO BABY!”

Breck’s hand froze midair. All was still and silent save for
their heavy breathing. “What?” the man finally said on a breathy exhale.

“I-I lied,” Hilith sobbed. “I wanted your support. I needed
you on my side.”

Breck’s hand dropped, and he took several steps back. His
face was pale and drawn as he stared uncomprehendingly at the woman. “I…I have
been mourning the loss of a child that never
existed
? How could you?” he
huffed breathlessly, his voice ending on a choked sob.

Rezkin had returned to the chair behind the desk to watch
the unexpected exchange. This behavior amongst outworlders was strange and
foreign. Hilith held the higher station within the guild and apparently
dominated the relationship she had with her Second, but the Second was
obviously the superior fighter. As soon as he felt the bite of betrayal he
reared up to chomp at the weaker woman.

Aside from the lie, Rezkin did not understand Breck’s
disquiet. The man seemed truly upset that the woman had not borne him an heir,
which made no sense to the young warrior. The two had obviously not entered
into a marriage contract, especially since Hilith was married to the late Lord
Gadderand, and their lifestyle was hardly conducive to rearing young.

The Raven’s smooth, deep voice cut through the thick air
when he spoke. “You two obviously have much to discuss, but I have no time for
it. Breck, do you care to dispose of her or shall I?” Without looking at him,
Breck slumped down into a high backed chair. Staring into the lively, dancing
flames of the hearth, he waved a dismissive hand.

“Breck!” Hilith shouted. “You can’t be serious! You’re just
going to sit there while he threatens me? I mean, honestly Breck, it’s not like
we can’t still have a baby. I-I could even be pregnant now! If you let him do
this, he would be killing me
and
our baby!” Hilith desperately pleaded,
but her words sounded hollow and crude even to her own ears.

Rezkin was amazed at his luck. These outworlders were
overrun with emotions to the point that they would turn on one another even
without his assistance. Adsden and the Serpent Guild had been angry and
resentful of the blackmailing Urek, while Hilith had used her womanly wiles to
wrap Breck around her finger. It was only a matter of time before the Second
realized what a monster she truly was. She mostly likely expected to have a
much stronger hold over the guild before that day occurred, probably even to
have another susceptible man at her beckoning call by then – someone who
would
take care
of Breck for her.

Moving around the desk, The Raven approached with smooth,
calculated steps. Hilith backed away until her back struck the closed door. In
a panic, she reached to the side and grabbed at the knife lodged in the frame,
but it had sunk deep, and her shaking hand could not get the necessary
leverage. She whimpered and cowered.

“Y-You wouldn't hurt a
lady
would you?” the woman
begged. The Raven huffed his amusement at the statement, and Hilith swallowed
hard understanding that she would have to use a different tactic. “You don’t
have to do this! I can be of use to you! I have skills that only an experienced
woman could have,” she pled, attempting to sound seductive but utterly failing
in her terror.