The Black Saint, page 3
They’re…afraid, Theo realized. The knot of dread was now an entire tangle of rope, pulling on his stomach and making him feel slightly sick.
Mustane finished studying the room and smiled to himself, apparently pleased with what he saw. “Broc, Sivall, take him away, I will deal with him after the party,” he gestured to the pitiful figure on the floor. The two bodyguards grabbed the man by an arm each and began dragging him across the smooth marble. Murmurs moved like waves through the crowd, but no one stepped forward or raised an objection.
“Wait!” Theo felt his body moving towards Mustane before his mind could form any kind of plan. The room fell deathly silent as a hundred eyes turned toward him. Mustane spun, looking for who had spoken. Theo felt Jayson’s hand on his arm, pulling him back.
“I know what you’re thinking Theo, but don’t. There’s no good ending to this,” Jayson whispered. Theo wasn't sure if it was anger, alcohol, or both, but he shook off his friend’s hand and took another step towards Mustane.
“Lord Mustane, this man deserves a trial, he should be turned over to the city authorities,” Theo said.
Mustane scowled, locking eyes with Theo. The scowl vanished as fast as it appeared, replaced with a smile, “Ah, the young lord Theo Anamanth. You have a strong sense of justice, I see. Like father, like son, as the saying goes.” Theo was sure now that it was anger driving him. “Do you mean to argue that this man is innocent of attempted murder?”
“I don't mean to argue one way or the other. That isn’t for me or you to decide. Only the saints and the proper authorities can pass judgment on a man.” Theo saw a flash of real anger in Mustane, but again it quickly vanished. The nobleman clearly had practice controlling his emotions. Unlike me. But Theo was in too deep now for regrets.
“I see,” Mustane said, his tone flat, “and what do the other guests have to say? Does anyone else share this young man’s idealistic view?” He looked around the room, staring for a moment at each individual, as though daring anyone to speak. The room became as quiet as the inside of a tomb. “It seems, young Theo, that you are by far the minority. I admire your passion for justice, but sometimes the world is not so black and white.” He gave Theo a gloating grin, then turned and began walking away, his bodyguards dragging the man along behind.
“You can’t just—” Theo felt Jayson yank him back hard, cutting him off.
“You’re going to get yourself and me in serious trouble if you don’t shut up right now,” Jayson hissed. Theo struggled against his friend’s grip, but Jayson held on stubbornly.
“We can’t just let him do—”
“Not here. We can talk about this in private,” Jayson pleaded. Theo stopped struggling and looked at his friend’s face. He saw fear, real fear, in Jayson's eyes, something he had only seen once or twice in all the years he’d known the man. It was enough to shut him up.
“I understand that you’re angry, but you can’t just go crossing the most powerful man in Alanthos,” Jayson said, letting Theo through his apartment door and then closing it, a little quicker than seemed necessary. “Saints, man, you have got to rein in that overdeveloped sense of fairness you have crammed between your ears. You’ll have at least three knives in your back by the end of the week if you don’t.”
Theo looked at Jayson, then away. He began to pace towards the table but turned back towards his friend, feeling the flame of anger filling his limbs with hot energy.
“It’s not about who is powerful, it’s about justice,” Theo said, clenching and relaxing his fists, trying to do something with all of his energy.
“Clearly,” Jayson said with a slight smirk.
“Come on, Jayson. This is not just my sense of wrong and right talking. This is about Lord Mustane taking judgment into his own hands, he can’t just hold a man against his will and do saints know what to him. That’s the job of prisons, of the city watch and court.”
Jayson suddenly looked tired and sad, like a parent who was about to explain to their child that faeries weren’t real.
“Things don’t always wo—”
“Yes, things don’t work like that in this city, I heard you the first time. Come on, Jayson, that’s a pile of hornjaw dung. What if that was me being dragged off to be tortured? What then?”
“That’s exactly what I was trying to avoid,” Jayson muttered.
“Saints! You’re as spineless as the rest of them,” Theo was almost shouting now.
A flash of anger passed over Jayson's face but it cooled quickly.
“I don’t like corruption, Theo. You know I don’t. But what should I do? Stand up to Mustane? Then what? Then one night I mysteriously disappear and things go right back to the way they were before,” Jayson let out an exasperated breath. “You still aren't understanding, you don’t win against those with the power, you stay out of their way, or you end up leaving the city, floating face down in the river.”
Theo opened his mouth to argue more, but saw from Jayson’s expression that he was deadly serious. His friend didn't act serious very often, and when he did, you paid attention.
Damn it. Theo knew he should drop it. Knew he needed to drop it. But there was something in him that simply could not let it go. He rubbed at his scar; it was proof that he couldn’t back down, even from unwinnable fights.
“You’ve already put a beacon on your head from challenging Mustane tonight. We need to keep you out of sight for a few days,” Jayson said, bolting the door.
Out of sight… The hint of an idea was forming in Theo’s mind now.
“With any luck we can keep—”
The sound of pottery breaking came from one of the bedrooms. The color drained from Jayson’s face and he held a finger to his lips. Theo froze in place, reaching out with his sense, feeling for the intruder. He frowned, sensing no other person nearby. He suddenly remembered the bodyguard Sivall, and how he had been completely invisible to him. A chill ran up his back, causing the hairs on his neck to stand up straight. Then he began to laugh, feeling the lighter sensation of something non-human.
“The cyvoth,” Theo said, remembering.
“Cyvoth,” Jayson hissed, looking confused now but still just as alarmed.
Theo ran for the bedroom with Jayson a step behind. He threw open the door.
“Oh...” The sheets and blankets that been neatly made up by the maid were now completely shredded and had been dragged partially off the bed. Every book from the shelf had been knocked onto the floor and some appeared to have been gnawed on, with pages scattered everywhere. There were pottery shards on the floor next to the windowsill. Halfway up the wooden frame of the window was the cub, its claws extended, digging into the wood. It appeared to be trying to gnaw its way out. Theo’s sudden opening of the door startled it and the small animal dropped from the window frame, and shot under the bed.
“I…uh…I can pay for the bedding. And the pot. And books,” Theo said, looking to see just how upset his friend was. Jayson stared with confusion around the ransacked room. He rubbed a hand down his face, taking a steadying breath.
“Why is there a cyvoth cub in my apartment?”
“I was going to tell you earlier, before…everything else, but the party was distracting. I found him in Stillwood, abandoned.”
“And you brought him back here?” Jayson said, shaking his head.
“Sorry…I didn’t think he was going to do all this,” Theo gestured around the room.
Jayson rubbed his fingers over his closed eyes, groaning. Theo braced himself.
Jayson let out a tired, cathartic laugh, “Your first day in Alanthos and you’ve managed all of this. Saints, I’ve forgotten how interesting you make life.”
Theo raised an eyebrow, “Me? You were always the one coming up with plans that got us into trouble.”
Jayson laughed again, “Was I? It’s been a while. Anyways, we’re going to have to explain to the maid why your bedding looks like it’s been through war and back.”
Theo relaxed back against the wall, glad to have a friend who could take so much in stride. I certainly wouldn’t have.
“What’s his name?” Jayson asked.
“Hmm?”
“The cyvoth. What’s his name?”
“Oh, uh, I…hadn’t got that far yet.”
“Perfect,” Jayson said with a grin, “I say we call him Ribbon then, seeing as that’s what he turned your bedding into.”
“So, you’re okay with keeping him here?”
Jayson shrugged, “The nobles keep exotic animals as pets. Why not Jayson Ramthorn, actor extraordinaire?”
Nobles. Theo’s anger returned as he remembered the events of the evening. Let it go, Theo.
He jerked back in surprise as something brushed against his leg. The cyvoth had snuck from the bed over to his side without him noticing. His quick motion spooked the animal again and it ran for the safety of the bed. Theo watched the cub move, low and silent, the earlier idea now becoming a full-fledged plan, details clicking into place in his mind.
“I’m going to break that man out.”
Jayson looked at him, blinking rapidly, “You’re going to what?”
“I’m serious, Jayson.”
“There are guards. Armed guards. That means swords and spears, crossbows and who knows what else.”
“You aren’t talking me out of it.”
Jayson gave the ceiling a frustrated scowl.
Theo continued, “If you don’t have any more objections, then I’m going.” He moved for the apartment door.
“Wait. I’m coming with you.”
“No,” Theo snapped, “I’m not letting you do something this dangerous.”
“No? Just yourself then? That seems fair.”
“Jayson, don't fight me on this. I’m not going to be responsible for something happening to you. I’ve got my gift, but you’ll be blind out there in the dark. Besides, if I get caught, then you’ll be here to come after me.”
Jayson gripped him by both shoulders, looking him in the eye. “This isn’t like the bullies back in the country, Theo. This is life and death stakes. You’ll be lucky if all you end up with is another scar.”
Theo reflexively raised a hand, feeling the jagged line of tissue. He met Jayson’s gaze with a determined look.
Jayson sighed, then threw up his hands, “Fine. But you’re wearing a disguise. At least then if you somehow make it out, you won’t immediately be hunted down.”
Theo frowned. “I don’t have anything that I can use…”
Jayson grinned broadly and his usual air of confidence returned. “Well, luckily for you, Theo, your best friend is a famous actor. And if there’s one thing I do have, it’s costumes.”
Theo stepped off the Royal Park pathway, pausing once he was in among the trees. He could smell the cherry blossoms all around him as he adjusted the slightly oversized clothing he wore. Jayson’s disguise consisted of a set of plain black clothes, complete with a hood, that covered him from head to boots. Jayson had said it was something used by stage hands to hide themselves while rearranging props in a scene. Theo felt with a hand to make sure his hunting knife was still snug in his belt, then lifted the white plaster mask in his other hand, its blank eyes staring back at him. It was the last piece of his outfit. Jayson had insisted he have something to hide his face, to prevent anyone who got close from identifying him.
Theo began moving again, north and further away from Royal Park. He saw the black outline of a large building and slowed, dropping into a crouch. There was light coming from a few windows, but most were dark.
Mustane’s Estate. In the darkness, it looked more like a military fortress than a nobleman’s manor. Theo paused, mentally building a map of his route so far.
Mustane’s estate was on the far northwest corner of the city. The plaza and Jayson’s apartment were now southwest of him, closer to the center of Alanthos. He felt confident that he would be able to find his way back. His sense of direction had always been good. Good enough that sometimes he wondered if it was at all related to his gift.
Theo lifted the mask to his face, sliding the leather straps over the outside of his cowl so that it would stay firmly in place. He moved the mask slightly to the side, and back again. It was pinching the bridge of his nose but after several attempts to adjust, he gave up, accepting the less-than-perfect fit. The mask also cut off a bit of his peripheral vision; luckily, he had other ways to ‘see’. With his disguise complete, Theo stood, reaching out with his sense. He could feel the weak pulse of non-human life around him as the many nocturnal creatures moved through the trees and grass of the park. There was something a little bigger, straight above him in the tree.
Bird, nightcaller probably. A grating squawk a moment later confirmed his guess. He stood still, listening to the rustle of small animals moving through the grass nearby, smelling the fresh scent of ironwood and cherry blossom, feeling the cool night air blowing through the holes in his mask. There was a tranquility to it, a peacefulness that made him want to stay here for hours, just him and the other creatures of the night. Another time. Tonight he was on a mission. An idiotic one—if he was completely honest—but he’d come this far and he wasn’t backing down now. He’d never forgive himself for doing nothing.
Theo moved forward cautiously, listening and feeling with his gift for the strong sensation of a human body. In the current darkness, vision was of very limited use. Of course, that meant guards or watchmen would have the same disadvantage. Theo crept closer to the estate, seeing the vague image of a stone wall and a giant building beyond. He estimated the wall was about ten feet high.
One good jump should do it. Theo paused, focusing on his sense. He could feel several bodies now. Guards, one to his left on the southeast corner of the wall, another on the wall almost directly in front of him, and a few further inside, their distance from him making the sensation weak.
He stayed low, moving west along the wall to the southwest corner, feeling one last time to ensure no one was nearby. Satisfied, Theo took several steps away from the wall, then a readying breath in through the slit of his mask. He ran at the wall, jumping and planting one foot on the vertical stone, launching himself even higher. Unfortunately it wasn’t quite high enough. His first hand missed the lip completely and his second barely caught by the fingertips. He smacked painfully against the side of the wall, his mask making a “crack” sound as it collided with stone. Theo hung—his fingers straining to hold the entire weight of his body—listening and feeling for any sign that he had been heard. Several heartbeats passed but there was no sound and no indication that any of the bodies were moving closer. Struggling, Theo got his other hand up over the lip and hauled his body over the short battlement, muffling a grunt as he fell into a crouch. He took a moment to flex and rub his fingers. Despite the gloves, his weight had caused the stone edge to bite painfully into his hand.
He could see the nearest guard about thirty feet down the wall, holding a lantern, resting his back against the battlement. He seemed bored and not alert.
Good. Theo moved to the inside of the wall, climbing over and slowly lowering his body from the battlement before dropping into the courtyard. He landed harder than he expected, catching himself with one hand against the wall. Keeping his profile as low as possible, he moved towards the manor, using a hedgerow as cover. The hedge ended as he got close, forcing him to sprint the last few paces to the large building. He spotted a servant’s entrance and headed for it, pressing himself against the wall.
He reached out and tested the door. It was latched, but with a little finesse he was able to get his knife into the crack and lift the mechanism enough to open the door. He stepped inside, wincing as the door gave a slight creak, then shut it quickly behind him. The space he was in was cramped, filled with crates and boxes, some kind of storage room. That wasn't so hard. Now what, Theo? He suddenly realized how little he’d thought out his plan. It had seemed so clear in his mind back at the apartment, when he was in the grip of his justice-fueled anger. Now, doubt was creeping in like the shadows of the dim room.
Figure it out, too late for regrets. Theo crept forward, feeling like the beat of his heart was loud enough to be heard from every room in the large manor. He opened the far door of the storage room and peered out, smelling the faint scent of treated wood that all old buildings seemed to have. A dark hallway extended out in front of him and to his left. There was no sign or feeling of guards in either direction. He moved into the hall, trying to imagine the manor’s layout. He guessed that the left hallway would lead him to the main foyer area. With a last glance, he took the forward hallway. Jayson had told him that if Mustane was holding the man at his manor, it would likely be in some basement area, probably underneath the main building. Theo looked for stairs, ladders, or something that led downward. He moved quickly through the maze of hallways, his gift allowing him to stay clear of patrolling guards and one old man—a servant, bumbling along with a large tray of food. The saints only knew who needed an entire meal in the middle of the night. Theo was slowly gaining confidence in his ability to avoid detection. There was a certain pleasure to moving unnoticed right under the eyes and ears of those whose job it was to spot intruders. His earlier doubts seemed a bit childish now, but despite the pleasure at exercising his ability, Theo still hadn’t found any way down to a lower level, or even an indication that there was a lower level.
Frustration was building along with the aching of his leg muscles from constant crouching. He was ready to head back towards the far side of the manor when he felt it. The pulse of a human body, faint and far, but definitely human. Not in front of him, or behind. It came from below. Theo paused and focused on the feeling of the body. Definitely below. It was underneath and a little behind, off to his right. Theo felt renewed energy flow into his tired limbs, readying them to keep going. He stopped a second later and frowned. There is nothing. No stairs, no ladder. He retraced his steps and looked again. He checked under an ornate chair at the side of the hallway. Nothing. The long red and black rug. Nothing. The large painting hanging on one wall. Still nothing. Then, almost by accident, he found it. The door wasn’t hidden behind anything, it was simply cut out of the hallway wall, built with such exact craftsmanship that it had only the tiniest of visible cracks. It would be easily missed during the day and almost impossible to find in the dark. Unless, you knew exactly where to look. Or you had a gift.
