Daughter of Treason Ch. 04

The battle, if it could be called that, nearly caught Kei unawares. She had just gotten some groceries, and was on her way back to the house to drop them off before setting off for more domestic wares when the sounds of shouting and steel reached her. Dropping the sack unceremoniously to the ground, she ran towards the commotion.

The scene which greeted her when she rounded the corner was small enough to be properly referred to as a skirmish, with a mere two dozen participants. One side seemed composed primarily of dwarves, and was distinguished by a common weapon of the hammer, superior numbers, and, despite this, a greater number of wounded. Their opponents were much more mixed, predominately human in race, and were employing daggers, sickles, and a few shot swords for their purposes. Farther away, she noted a member of the second camp dragging away an unconscious man, likely felled by a hammer blow to the skull.

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting; masked villains fleeing the guard, perhaps, or at least clearly defined sides, but here it seemed one could effectively switch sides simply by dropping one's hammer, picking up a dagger and turning on one's former comrades; only through intuition or close observation could the two sides even be known to exist, differentiating this from an escalated barroom brawl. Hand on her hilt, she felt she should intervene, but wasn't sure for which side, let alone how to begin. "Halt!" she shouted, striding towards the conflict, but if the bodies in the melee heard her, they gave no sign. She was practically within the chaos when she cried again, "Stop, I said!" This time, someone did notice, but she had the attention of a man who, having scored a deep cut on a hammer-wielding foe who now was hobbling away, merely attempted to stab her.

Her dodge was automatic, turning to the side and batting the short sword off-course with her free hand. Her counterattack, by means of an elbow to the face, was much more measured.

She took the opportunity of his momentary pain to draw her own weapon, but in such close quarters, by the time she managed to face him in a decent offensive stance, he had recovered. Grinning wildly, he attacked again. He was obviously untrained, but his power- rather than speed-based cuts and thrusts took considerable force to parry with her much lighter sword. She found herself switching into a defensive stance but, a part of her knew, she was far from losing. When the inevitable opening came, in this case brought about by an overextended lunge exacerbated by bad footwork, it was a small thing to bat the sword aside and step in, sinking the tip of the rapier into her assailant's stomach.

It was a deep wound, one which required Kei to yank the sword hard to free it from the man's gut. He went down, and Kei finally noticed that more and more dwarves, hammers in hand, were streaming in from nearly all angles, routing the blade-wielding group.

"That's right y' bastards! This is our land, and if you show up here again, you'll get more o' the same!"

The dramatic effect of the bold dwarf's words was perhaps undermined by the groans of the wounded around him. "What," Kei asked slowly, drawing the fallen man's shirt over her blade to remove the blood, "was that all about?"

The dwarf glared at her, noticing her for the first time. "Which side are you on?" He was eying her rapier like it might bite him.

"My own," she replied, frustration giving menace to her voice, "and I don't hesitate to defend myself if attacked, as this gentleman here can attest. I ask again: what was the reason for this battle?"

"What, you didn't know? These rats were tryin' to muscle in on our territory, trying to extort the folks that live here. 'Protection money,' they call it, of the 'your money or your life' variety."

Kei nodded. "And who are you who fights them?"

"Me? Kressik, potter, Craftsman's Guild."

"And your comrades, are they also...?"

"Members o' the Craftsman's Guild? Of course! You can tell by the hammers, y' see. Every member carries one, for just such an occasion."

Kei nodded, filing the information away for future reference. "You referred to this as your 'territory'. What makes it yours, and worth fighting for?"

"Well, it's not really ours, see, but it's under our protection. It's a fairly standard arrangement, really. You know the kind."

"I arrived here only recently," she said dryly. "Enlighten me."

"Well," he said, looking uncomfortable. "It works like this. Members who've joined pay a small fraction of their raw earnings to the guild. In return, we protect them and their families."

"It sounds suspiciously similar to the Rats' arrangement." observed Kei, gauging his reaction.

"It's nothing of the sort!" asserted Kressik indignantly. "The Rats threaten! We just protect our own."

Kei's eyebrow raised. "And every house on this street houses a member?"

"Well, no, but when enough of us are living in an area as small as this one, it's easier to protect the area than to pick and choose amongst the houses."

"And the non-members? Do you charge them as well for this service?"

"Not really. We're not wanting for money that much, and the guildmasters say recruitment can never start too early, and most o' the kids here will remember who looked out for 'em later on."

"Indoctrination, then?"

"No! It's nothing of the sort!" he repeated, flustered.

Kei finally cracked a smile. She was enjoying getting this dwarf so worked up. She had been trying to conceal her merriment, but when his expression began to turn hurt, she let up. "Ah. Perhaps I was mistaken," she said, waving her hand as if to dismiss her own accusation. "The Craftsman's Guild has a headquarters of some sort, I presume? Where is it?"

"The Guildhouse's location is kept secret." Kressik, still smarting from her earlier implications, was on guard. "Why, are you planning on joinin'?"

"I have a friend who is interested," lied Kei, and sensing that he wasn't buying it, she changed the subject. "You mentioned that the Rat Gang was trying to 'muscle in' on your territory. Do they have any of their own?"

"Yes, of course. Most o' the slums belong to them."

"They've conquered that much territory?" asked Kei, but Kressik looked uncomfortable.

"Well, yes, but it's more that they actually own most o' the slums. They used to be a guild, y' see, but when they officially disbanded, they gave their holdings to various lieutenants. Despite being gone on paper, they still functioned as a group, letting them weasel their way out of the Guild Tax, and only at the expense of legitimacy. After that, they realized they could harass landlords and buy up their estates, cheap. So, in a way, they do own most of the slums."

"Where are their headquarters?"

"Well, since they don't exist, they don't really have one. Their last known leader, Eric, turned up face-down in the bay. The guards investigated, of course; twelve stab wounds to the back, and all. Said it was the worst suicide case they'd ever seen."

Kei made a face. "Well, do the members know?"

He shrugged. "They might, but they're sure not telling me."

An idea sprung into her mind. "Thank you," she said quickly, "that's all I needed to know."

As she darted from body to body, ignoring the dwarves as one of their own clerics wandered about casting healing spells, Kressik asked cautiously, "What is it you're doing, lass? Searching for coin?"

"No," she replied simply before finding a man knocked thoroughly unconscious and bleeding, but not yet passed on. She tore off a strip of the man's shirt and, after a few failed attempts, made a crude bandage of it.

"You're... healing them? After wounding them in the first place?"

"I didn't wound these ones," she noted dryly, but he seemed unconvinced.

"You're daft."

She declined comment, opting instead to unceremoniously hoist the unconscious man over her shoulder. "Thank you for your time," was all she said as she lumbered off.

By the time she arrived home, she had worked up a good sweat. She'd abandoned the groceries not too far from the battle. Loathe as she was to abandon goods she didn't have to, the body over her shoulder was conspicuous and carrying the sacks too would have slowed her down and put her more at risk for unwelcome attention despite her attempts to stick to back alleys.

Shino, who had been roaming about trying to line up a buyer for anything he might make, was currently in his place at the forge upon her entrance. "Oh, hi, Kei! Welcome... home?" He had just looked up and seen her burden, and as she was unsure herself exactly why it was she wanted information from this man, she had no desire to explain her intentions.

"Hey, Shino. I had to leave my bags in an alley off of Crescent Lane and Yorik's Street. May I ask you to get them for me?"

Shino blinked. "Yeah, sure, anything."

He didn't move to leave, and his eyes were curious and focused on the man. She could tell he wanted an explanation, and she hoped her silence would be a clear denial of one. When he still didn't move, she prompted, "They're in a crate. I carved an X into its side, which should make your job easier."

Recognizing the dismissal, and eyes tinged with what she thought to be undue worry, he took the cue. "Alright, thanks." Rising, he strode around the forge and out the door, but he paused just outside, turning and saying, "You know, Kei, that I'd always be happy to help you, right?"

She smiled warmly at him. "I know."

"And you know you can ask me anything, right?"

Her smile grew. "I know, Shino. I'll see you in a bit."

Though he still seemed uncomfortable, he took the second dismissal, turned, and left. Kei closed the door behind him and considered her next move.

Ultimately, she chose the basement. As awful as the stench was, she would rather avoid painting her bedroom red, and blood on the ground floor might disturb any customers who wandered in, so she would have to endure the smell. She tied him up with the same ropes as before, and made a mental note to clean them later; a few flakes of dried blood still remained, and if she let them become soaked again, they might begin to rot.

After securing the prisoner who, she was confident, would not wake up for some time, she drew water from the well, filled a tub in the basement, and went upstairs to change. She had bought the black outfit for just this purpose; the only skin which showed was the backs of the hands and a narrow strip around the eyes. Plus, the head wrapping muted the smell somewhat. All this took a mere half hour, and her prisoner showed no sign of waking up. Kei, not one to be idle for long, and scrubbed nearly a quarter of the floor clean when the captive came to.

She took her time finishing up; the blow to his head made his return to lucidity slow, and she imagined that there was a particular menace which can be found in meticulous care. She strode over to the wall where he lay, bound. "You're awake." She noted. "Good." His eyes were frightened, something which bode well. "I will ask you some questions. If the answers are unsatisfactory, you will be punished. If you lie, you will be punished. If you talk back, you will be punished. If, at the end of this interview, I judge that you have been less than entirely forthcoming, by omission or otherwise, you will be punished. Do you understand?"

Mutely, he nodded his head and she removed the gag. He didn't scream or cuss, which she took as another good sign. "Let's begin." She knelt in front of him, resting easily on one knee. "You were wounded in a battle. I brought you here and healed you. Do you remember the battle?" He nodded, but caution kept him from speaking. Kei's only prompt was a calm, "Tell me about it."

The words, once they started, came in a flood. He described the skirmish, giving names to his comrades, motive to his actions, and the place they had all met. Kei silently filed all these away in her mind for future reference. But when he spoke of his family, he had her full attention. "I had to get money somehow, and the rats paid the best. Money is still tight, so what else could I have done?"

He had, hitherto, been running out of new information and, therefore, out of uses. Her hand, which had been drifting towards dagger, froze. "Your family. Tell me about them."

She had said it mainly to keep him on the defensive and buy herself time to think, but she hadn't anticipated his vivid description of Ethan, his beautiful son who was the best stickballer for blocks, his wife Marian who would kiss the son on the head every night and every morning, his daughter who-

"Do you have any vocational training?" she asked desperately, trying to stop the emotionally charged descriptions so she could think clearly.

Training? Why yes, he had been trained as a chef. It was back in 1451...

Kei's mind, meanwhile, was racing. This man had fallen in with bad types, that much was clear. But he seemed to (and she believed that he did) do so only for the sake of his family. "There's an 8 gold entrance fee," he was saying, "and I was saving up until Isabel got sick and we had to spend it to hire a cleric. I usually end up cooking for the gang's parties anyway, so I probably could have made it back in two months, but by then Isabel would have been too far gone. The Cook's Guilds pays well, but it's just so hard to get in...." No, he had done bad things, but he could still be saved. If he had been unrepentant, or unable to stop, she could have slain him then and there, content that it would mean one less thug on the street. But, to her secret disappointment, he could be saved, and easily, too. Though, thought Kei, at the cost of our dwindling supply of money. I hope Shino gets his shop set up soon.

"Stop," she said evenly, causing him to freeze mid-sentence. "You have been honest, and though your actions are deplorable, your motives are just. However, if you continue to follow the rat gang, you will die. It is possible that I will kill you myself." He seemed about to give a despairing protest, but it was not needed. "Fortunately, you seem to have the inclination and skill to switch careers. I will give you the funds. I will leave you outside your house, eight gold the richer. This is your chance to change. I trust you'll make full use of it."

He nodded, and she felt suddenly weary. Smoothly, readying her sap behind her, she pointed with her right hand at a spot on the wall next to his head. "Look there." Obediently, he turned to obey exposing his neck. Kei brought the club down and managed to make it relatively painless for the cook by hitting the soft spot at the base of the skull, knocking him out without having to beat his head too hard or too much. He went out like a light, and Kei gave a sigh and rubbed her temples. She did not consider the fact that sparing someone had been a disappointment, nor did she question why she seemed to be preparing to dismantle the Rat Gang piece by piece; the human mind protects itself from unpleasant truths, and denial is the first line of defense. Instead she wondered morosely how many of the corrupt organization were good men, the kind she would be forced to spare.

And bribe back to virtue, she noted dryly as she counted out eight gold and slipped it into the unconscious man's pockets.

A voice interrupted her thoughts. "That's a good thing to do."

Kei spun, startled, and found Shino staring at her intently. "How long have you been there?"

"A few minutes," he said dismissively before closing the distance between them in two steps and shocking her by taking her hands in his and saying, "It's alright, Kei."

Her mind froze, then lurched into a sprint. He knows? About how I wanted to kill that man? And says it's alright? He said he would tell me if I became a monster; if he says it's alright, does that mean it's alright to kill the man, or only alright to want to? Should-

"We can make the money back."

Her thoughts ground to a halt and she felt like a man whose horse had suddenly decided to turn left and neglected to inform the rider. "I think I can get a job," he continued, "so we can make it back. And I don't mind that you're spending my money; it's going to a good cause, right?"

He's talking about money? Her confusion turned briefly to irritation, then guilt as what he said sunk in. She hadn't even thought about whose money she was spending, she had just taken charge of all currency. "I- I hadn't intended to give him money." She stammered.

As far as defenses went, it was a piss poor one, but as with the cook's protest, it was unneeded. "But then you saw how much good you could do. Really, Kei, it's fine." He was smiling so sincerely that her guilt intensified.

Groping for a change of subject, she hazarded, "You said you found a job?"

"Yes! Wait, no. Well," he said with a sheepish grin, "sort of. I learned that there's a guild which will buy most of my wares if I can't sell them, albeit at reduced price."

Kei smiled. "Good!" It would be a relief to have some positive cash flow again. Being low on money felt like being cornered, a feeling as familiar to her as it was uncomfortable. That, and if she admitted it to herself, there were several more things she might want to buy.

"Yeah the Craftsman's Guild is pretty nice. Now I just need to find a member to sponsor me."

"The which guild?"

"Craftsman's Guild. It seems right up my alley and- Kei? Are you alright?"

Kei, who had let lose a groan, mutely shook her head. After another gentle query, she responded, "This guild. It's been having troubles lately." While Shino digested this, she continued, "The Rat Gang has been harassing them."

"Oh."

"I suppose the best thing to do is give them something else to think about than the Craftsman's Guild. They've been around for long enough that stirring up popular opinion seems unlikely to work, if it's possible at all. I suppose," she said, thinking out loud and gaining momentum, "I could start capturing their members one at a time, but if they don't find out that it's me, they won't be distracted, and if they do, we'd be in trouble. Just harassing them from the shadows won't do enough. I'll have to give them something to chase."

"Uh," said Shino, "I could just try and find another job-"

"Letting them scare you away means they've won." Polarization, too, protects the mind from difficult truths. "Besides, it's but a small matter."

"What, you're going to sick them on some scapegoat?"

"Hardly," she said with a snort. "No, if they have a target they will pursue it fervently, but will silence said target quickly. Such a distraction would be, while effective for its duration, far too short-lived to be useful. Unsolved mysteries, on the other hand, tend to hold attention for quite some time, sometimes long after the mystery is even active. Am I going to sick them on a scapegoat?" she asked with a smile. "No. I'm going to sick them on a goat."

<<<<>>> >

The slums were more alive than the docks were, something which was made doubly concerning by the typically unhappy tone of many of the noises. The imposing house before her, once a mansion but now far too run-down to be called that, was a source of both light and the sound of revelry. The occasional shout suggested that a party was in full chaotic swing.

The windows uniformly had iron bars, and the roof looked solid. The door was a sturdy wood slab, the sort of which seemed to refuse to move for anything short of a battering ram. All this only convinced Kei that she had found the right place.

It was a small thing to slip up next to the door. She did not intend to enter; indeed, the lack of any locking mechanism made her believe it was barred from the other side. Instead, her plan called only for her to draw out a neatly composed letter and pin it firmly to the door with a dagger. Though she didn't look at it as she faded away into the alleys once more, she knew what it said. Indeed, she had expended considerable effort to write it with just the right amount of menace in the first place. It read: