Shade rose to his feet. He turned and shoved his dagger back in its strap. The crowd watched him go as he strode towards the door. He thought surely Festan would pelt him with questions, but it appeared the Faun thought better of it. Shade could no longer risk staying here. He said no goodbyes. The time had come for him to make good on his promise…
Chapter Sixteen:
Man of Many Faces
Warlord Lewd absentmindedly watched the seductive dancing of his performing women, but his eyes barely registered their alluring movements. He had not budged from his throne all day. His back cramped. His undergarments clung to his skin under the bother of a hot anxious sweat. His eyes swung frantically back and forth over the faces of his subjects like a pendulum hanging by his threadbare nerves. He feared Shade might emerge from the crowd at any moment. A host of subjects hustled about the chamber bearing gold and silver trays arrayed with all manner of delicacies.
Lewd’s blood boiled. His flatterers ate and drank themselves into a slaphappy boozed stupor. He heard banter and laughter that grated on his frayed patience. They lounged and indulged in the pleasures of Lewd’s harlots, casting nary a care at the threat to their master’s life. The warlord squeezed a gold jeweled goblet in his hand, its rich Faunian Red Wine had yet to grace his lips. His life of luxury washed away like a puddle of fresh rainfall lost down Kurn’s dark sewers.
Kishrub and Zulbash flanked the throne, Yessheeran at his right hand. A charming Dervish servant girl smiled at him and offered him a platter of grapes. ‘How dare you!’ he thought, ‘my life hangs in the balance and you offer me a grape!’ He knocked the platter out of the ignorant girl’s hands. He cast his goblet across the chamber. The lavish wine splashed as the cup bounced across the floor. It seeped slowly into the mortar cracks like spilt blood.
“Begone! All of you!” he shouted. The entire chamber slowly emptied. Even Kishrub, Zulbash and his bands of personal guards made for the doors.
“Not you!” Lewd yelled at them, “You stay put!”
The guards returned to their posts. Even Kishrub and Zulbash got it right this time.
Warlord Lewd ground his perfect white teeth. He sank back in his chair and ran his trembling hands through his long white locks. ‘Get a grip on yourself, Lewd,’ he thought bitterly, ‘the power of the underworld is at your fingertips. It was I who united the dark bloods of Karus Forest. It was I who slew Tantarus and the other crimelords. It was my hand that pulled the night races out of the pit-traps of their own infighting and blood grudges.’ Just who did this Shade think he is? Taking out a contract on the most dangerous crimelord alive…what kind of suicidal notion is that? ‘He’s nothing but an insignificant pest,’ Lewd mused, ‘a bloodsucking parasite preying on an organization that could easily crush him underfoot!’
The warlord straightened himself. He pressed out the imaginary creases in his cape and grinned with a sardonic indifference. So the legendary Shaltearan Brotherhood had failed as well. What did Lewd have to fear? He had tripled his guard, sealed off every possible entrance and exit. Finding Krulle’s head on his throne a few days back, had left a riotous feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he would soon move to a securer location where he could hold out the night. He had hired the Rat to handle security…a man famous for as much secrecy and stealth as Shade himself. If anyone could keep that backbiting assassin out of here it was a man who thought and reasoned like him.
Warlord Lewd shifted his focus from his directionless worry. He moved onto his plethora of divergences that entertained how he might pass the night. He could grab a bottle of Faun Spirits or burn a bowl of Stardust and it would be morning before he knew it. He could take his choice of girls from his harem. That would certainly be a pleasant way to occupy his time. Lewd dismissed his shallow thoughts. Lose himself in his pleasures and he would fall right into Shade’s capable hands.
Warlord Lewd froze. He watched as a hooded figure entered the hall. The figure passed through the crowd like a shadow. He cut a silent path through them like a sickle through dry grass. The warlord’s bones iced over; paralyzed in a sudden suffocating fear. ‘Oh no, Shade!’ he thought. The word “guards” was on the tip of his tongue when he noticed two bodyguards escorted the cloaked figure. The torchlight revealed the cloak to be burlap, not black like Shade’s own. Lewd calmed himself. He recognized his dark visitor by the confidence that emanated from his strut alone—his newest acquisition the Rat.
The Rat’s big brown eyes twinkled with an ever-burning gleam. A smug smirk clung to the corner of his lips. Lewd made out the man’s face. His skin was tan with a slightly gold tinge. His long brown bangs fell across his left cheek. The pointed tips of his Elven ears peeked through his hair as he bowed. The man was a Half-Elf, but like Lewd he was dashing and enigmatic. His garb was ordinary and unassuming, but he was the kind of stranger you would never notice until he had slipped in among your people and taken your daughter’s hand in marriage.
The Rat was an ex-spy who hired himself out to the highest bidder. The Rat was known to be a master of disguises and had a keen ear, thanks, in no small part, to his Half-Elvish heritage for gleaning information. Lewd had hired the Rat due to his experiences in Jui-Sae, even spying on the likes of Dark Elves for Doljinaar’s Elven allies. He was one of the only men in the world who had ventured into the black forests of Jui-Sae and lived to tell the tale. If any man knew how to counter Shade, a member of a race the world knew so little about, it was the Rat. Lewd could only pray the Half-Elf would rise to the challenge.
“It is time,” the Rat said, he cast back his hood and raised his beady black eyes, “the sun has set and the moons will soon be high in the sky. He will come.”
“And you’re certain everything is secure?”
“The entire Doljinaarian army could not get in here,” the Rat smiled assuredly.
“And you have taken all the proper precautions?” Lewd asked, “Need I remind you of just who we are dealing with here?”
“There is no need. I have seen those who walk unseen.”
“Let us inspect this disguise.”
The Rat stretched out his arms. His escort pulled his cloak off by the cuffs. The Half-Elf turned full circle showing off a magnificent set of well-polished dark blue plate armor and a rich purple cape that brushed at his ankles. Lewd beamed. His smithies had done well in such a short time.
The Rat murmured the words of a spell. A brilliant golden light shown from his face and suddenly his skin flushed from tan to a mottled green and yellow parlor. His brow appeared to crease up and fold over on itself. His smooth Half-Elvish face wrinkled before Lewd’s very eyes, his skin broke out into an infestation of pockmarks and his dark brown eyes lightened to a slimy yellow-green. The Rat smirked darkly, “When Shade comes, I will be waiting for him.”
Warlord Lewd gasped. He gazed upon the mirror image of himself. The illusion was flawless. The warlord was deeply impressed. Unlike the Illusionment spells of Essence Magic commonly used out West, this illusion betrayed no flaw. He had heard that the lesser known mirage-based spells of Elven Sun Magic could project so seamless an illusion, but this certainly convinced him the rumors were true. Nevertheless, he had learned long ago that a clearly conveyed pessimism reaped only the highest efforts from his subjects. Sting a man’s pride and he would spurn failure at all costs.
“It will have to do,” he said coldly. He rose and strode for the door. “Let’s just hope he takes the bait.”