"The name doesn't matter," the barkeep whispered. "What matters is that you're here. In the East Street. Alone. Seeking a shadow."
Sakina let out a laugh that carried no mirth. "And it seem you have none to offer… so why waste each other's time?" she drew the curtain off the door and was about to move out when a blade blocked her way, "what's the hurry woman?" Sakina moved back towards the bar and silently drew her dagger. It was a needle of light in the gloom and she began to wipe the flat of the blade against the tip of her index finger, testing the edge.
"The East Street..." she whispered with a fuming fury of her own stupidity. "There is no brother, is there?"
"Ahhhh… brother," the barkeep admitted. "You tell me… is there?" then he started laughing. "You told the world the Queen was at the gates. But the High Lady Sakina doesn't come to a hole like the Broken Crane if the Queen is at the gates. She comes here because she is starving!" then he set the glass down and licked his lip with a devouring lecherous look and came closer to her. "starving for a lead." He whispered in her ear; his breath smelling like rotten eggs and sewage full of writhing maggots; that was nothing short of death itself; making her gag and move back.
"A tragic story, love, but I don't think I can help you…" Sakina said, her voice turning cold and brittle as glass. She slightly moved back to the door form where she entered. The men moved on her motion; so she immediately started trying a fail attempt to crack a joke that turned out to be a mistake, "Tell me, Master. Does the 'brother' have a name? Or is he just a ghost you conjure when you need to lure a specific kind of fish into your net?"
The barkeep stopped polishing the glass. The silence in the room became absolute. One of the men at the bar shifted his weight, his boots creaking on the sawdust as he stood up, still not turning.
"The name doesn't matter," the barkeep whispered. "What matters is that you're here. In the East Street. Alone. Seeking a shadow."
Sakina let out a laugh that carried no mirth. "And it seem you have none to offer… so why waste each other's time?" she drew the curtain off the door and was about to move out when a blade came in front of her neck, "what's the hurry woman?" Sakina moved back towards the bar and silently drew her dagger. It was a needle of light in the gloom and she began to wipe the flat of the blade against the tip of her index finger, testing the edge.
"The East Street..." she whispered. The fury of her own stupidity was a physical heat in her chest. She had been so proud of her performance in the market, so certain she had outplayed a Lord of the Hegemony. "There is no brother, is there?"
"Ahhhh… brother," the barkeep admitted. "You tell me… is there?" then he started laughing. "You told the world the Queen was at the gates. But the High Lady Sakina doesn't come to a hole like the Broken Crane if the Queen is at the gates. She comes here because she is starving!" then he set the glass down and licked his lip with a devouring lecherous look and came closer to her. "starving for a lead." He whispered in her ear; his breath smelling like rotten eggs and sewage full of writhing maggots; that was nothing short of death itself; making her gag and move back.
"By being here," he continued oblivious of the traumatic smell he carried, roaming around her "you've handed us the confession that The Queen is gone. And the Regency is a hollow shell."
"Then you've made your first mistake," Sakina said, her eyes narrowing. "You assumed that because the Queen is gone, the Regency is toothless."
"No," a new voice rasped from the shadows behind the bar. "We assumed that because the Queen is gone, you are a liability that needs to be liquidated."
Sakina didn't wait for them to move. She lunged.
She was faster than they expected, a blur of silk and steel. She drove the dagger into the shoulder of the man nearest her, hearing his grunt of pain, but the room was too small, and there were five against one. The crying girl was one of them. She had stopped crying instantly, had wiped her eyes with a dirty sleeve, and her expression had turned flat and empty. And sakina finding it strange; only realized it when the girl suddenly powdered her with something and the world started to spin around her…"YOU!"
Behind Sakina, the heavy door slammed shut. The bar-bolt slid with a final, echoing clack.
She turned but the shadows were already unfurling. She swung the blade, a desperate arc of silver, but she was exhausted because of the numbing powder. The man dodged with a grunt, and before she could reset her footing, the second man was upon her. She cried for help but before she could continue a heavy hand clamped over her mouth, the scent of grease and cheap tobacco flooded her senses. She bit down, tasting copper, kicking out with her heels, but a heavy blow caught her in the kidneys, buckling her knees.
"Careful with her," a voice rasped near her ear. "Machiavelli wants the Queen, but the Council wants the Assistant. She's the proof that the red haired witch is gone!"
Sakina fought with a feral intensity, her veil tearing away, her hair spilling down her back. She managed to tear her mouth free for a second. "You'll find nothing but your own graves!" and managed to drive her elbow into a throat, hearing a satisfying gag, but then the world exploded in a white-hot burst of pain.
One of the men at the bar stood up and hurled a heavy sap wrapped in leather hit her on the back of her skull.
The amber light of the tavern smeared into long, bloody streaks. The floor rushed up to meet her, and finally the powder also started affecting her. The last thing she felt was the rough hemp of a sack being pulled over her head, plunging her into a darkness…
She woke to the sound of dripping water and the smell of wet earth.
Her head was a drum being beaten by a giant. Every pulse of her heart sent a jagged spike of agony through her temples. She tried to move her hands, but they were pulled taut behind her back, the rough wire biting deep into her wrists, cutting off the circulation.
She was in a cellar and the only light came from a single torch mounted near a heavy iron-bound door.
Above her, through the cracks in the ceiling, voices drifted down like dust.
"...confirmed, then," a man's voice rasped from the room above. "The bitch was bluffing. Machiavelli can waste his time chasing ghosts at the border if he so wishes. We have the only thing that matters."
"She's awake," another voice cautioned. "I heard her groan."
"Doesn't matter," a second voice replied this one smoother and more arrogant. "The trap in the market worked better than we hoped. Machiavelli is convinced the Queen is at the border, which means he'll waste his men searching the outposts while we tighten the noose here. The fact that the 'Regent' came running to a tavern in the kilns because of a scrap of paper? It's the confirmation we needed. The Queen is lost."
Sakina leaned her head back against the damp stone, closing her eyes. The pain was immense, but beneath it, a cold, hard coal of rage began to glow.
"She's a liability now. Once she tells us which vault the Imperial seals are in, we'll give her to the canal. The Cinder Hegemony can have the ruins; we will have the authority."
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