“But ... I never meant...”
“You never meant to live long enough to fulfill it. Yet you are alive. And you took the contract.”
“And Bane is dead!” Hugh said harshly.
“Would that make a difference to the Brotherhood? The contract is sacred ...” His expression dark and grim, Hugh rose, stood facing the Keeper. “Sacred!” He gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, it’s sacred. Apparently it’s the only thing sacred in this accursed life. I thought you Kenkari were different. I thought at last I’d found something I could believe in, something...
“But what do you care? Pah!” Hugh spit on the floor at the Keeper’s feet. “You’re no better than all the rest.”
Book gasped. Door averted his face. Inside the Aviary, the leaves of the trees whispered, sighed. The Keeper regarded Hugh in silence.
At length, the Keeper said, quietly, calmly, “You owe us a life. Instead of yours, we choose his.”
Book caught her breath, stared, horrified, at the Keeper of the Soul. Door opened his mouth, about to do the unthinkable—about to speak, about to protest. The Keeper cast the other Kenkari a swift, stern gaze and both bowed their heads, fell silent.
“Why? What’d he do to you?” Hugh demanded.
“We have our reasons. Do you find this arrangement acceptable?” Hugh folded his arms across his chest, tugged thoughtfully at his twisted beard. “This pays for all?”
The Keeper smiled gently. “Perhaps not all. But it will come close.” Hugh considered, eyed the Kenkari suspiciously. Then he shrugged. “Very well. Where do I find Haplo?”
“On the isle of Drevlin. He has been grievously wounded and is weak.” The Keeper lowered his eyes, his face was flushed. “You should have no difficulty—”
Book made a choking sound, covered her mouth with her hands. Hugh glanced at her, sneered. “Squeamish? Don’t worry, I’ll spare you the gory details. Unless you want to hear how he died, of course. I’ll throw that part in free. Describe his death throes...”
Book turned away, leaned weakly on her desk. Door was livid, his frail body shook and trembled. The Keeper of the Soul stood silent, unmoving. Hugh turned on his heel, walked toward the door. The Keeper glanced questioningly at the Soul.
“Accompany him,” the Kenkari commanded his fellow. “Make whatever arrangements he deems necessary for his transportation to Drevlin. And provide whatever... weapons...”
Door blanched. “Yes, Keeper,” he murmured, barely able to walk. He glanced back, pleadingly, as if he would beg the Keeper to reconsider. Soul remained firm, implacable. Sighing, Door prepared to escort the assassin out.
“Hugh the Hand,” the Soul called.
Pausing on the threshold, Hugh turned. “Now what?”
“Remember to fulfill the condition you promised. Tell Haplo that Xar is the one who wants him dead. You will be certain to do that? It is most important.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell him. Anything for the customer.” Hugh gave a mocking bow. Then he turned to Door. “The only thing I’ll need is a knife, with a good, sharp blade.”
The Keeper shrank into himself. Pallid and wan, he cast a final glance back at Soul. Receiving no reprieve, he accompanied Hugh out and shut the door behind them.
“Keeper, what have you done?” cried Book, unable to contain herself. “Never, in all the centuries of our existence, have we taken a life! Any life! Now our hands will be stained with blood. Why? For what reason?” The Keeper stood staring after the assassin. “I do not know,” he said in a hollow voice. “I was not told. I did only as I was commanded.” He looked behind the altar, through the crystal window, into the Aviary. The leaves of the trees rustled quietly, in satisfaction.
Appendix I
The Brotherhood of The Hand
No one is certain when the Assassins’ Guild was first established or who established it. It was in existence before the Sartan left Arianus, to judge by writings left behind that lament the guild’s activities and ponder ways to put a stop to it. Sartan scholars speculate that the Brotherhood’s origins date from the rise of guilds in general, during the prosperous rule of the Paxar elves. The Paxar encouraged free trade, thus allowing the development of a strong merchant class.
Thus, while the more peace-minded citizens of the Mid Realm were forming Silversmiths’ guilds and Brewers’ guilds, it was perhaps natural that the darker elements of society should mink of forming their own guild. The Brotherhood may have, at first, been formed in mockery of the legitimate guilds, but members soon saw the advantages of banding together: self-protection, self-regulation, and the ability to set and control prices. Probably founded by elves, with only elven members, the Brotherhood soon extended its membership to include humans. The guild would have added dwarves to its ranks, as well, for the Brotherhood’s credo is that the color of every man’s money is the same, just as is the color of his blood. But most of the dwarves had, by this time, been shipped off to Drevlin and, therefore, were out of the realm of the Brotherhood’s interest and jurisdiction. Shifting winds of change and war wreaked havoc on nations and people of the Mid Realm, but these gales only served to strengthen the power of the Brotherhood. A series of strong, intelligent, ruthless, and cold-blooded leaders, culminating in Ciang, herself, not only held the ranks of the Brotherhood together, but increased its stature and wealth.
Shortly after the fall of the Paxar and the rise of the Tribus elves, the Brotherhood took control of the island of Skurvash, built its fortress there, and has continued to exert a powerful influence on all underworld operations in the Mid Realm since.
The power of the Brotherhood during this particular period of Arianus’s history is enormous. War and rebellion serve as an ideal cover for its operations. Although not directly involved in the smuggling operations of Skurvash (just as they are not “directly involved” in other illegal activities), the Brotherhood levies a “tax” on smuggled or stolen merchandise, in return for providing protection to those who sell it. This “tax” and the income derived from membership dues make the Brotherhood the wealthiest guild in existence. Such wealth and influence is undoubtedly due to the genius of Ciang, the Brotherhood’s current leader.
Ciang’s word is law. She is highly respected (almost worshiped) by all the members. The crudest, most heartless murderer has been known to cower like a small, naughty child under Ciang’s rebuke. Nothing is known about her youth, except that she was reputed to be one of the most beautiful elven women ever born and that, from hints she herself has dropped, she is a member of elven royalty. She is quite charming, amoral, and totally ruthless. She is the only one of the Brotherhood who can make the final decision to “send round the knife” and has done so on numerous occasions. Although a fellow member may call for such an action, Ciang herself must initiate the order.
“Sending round the knife” is the term used for the most-feared ritual in the Brotherhood of the Hand. Violation of certain laws in the Brotherhood is punishable by death, and, as might be expected, the members themselves police their own organization. If a member is deemed to have broken one of the laws and the death sentence is passed, Ciang orders that wooden knives carved with the offender’s name be circulated among the members. The knives are passed one to the other, as members encounter each other, until the word goes around (which it does with alarming speed). Any member who meets the offender is required to carry out the death sentence or face a similar punishment. It does not matter that the member under sentence may be friend, lover, spouse, sibling, or parent. Loyalty to the Brotherhood takes precedence over all other loyalties and vows.