Chapter 65: BETRAYAL

Risens was at home in the shadows of Windwake’s alleys. He knew the twists and turns well enough to recognize the new piles of refuse and crates that had been piled in their dank, concealed corners. With his attention split between the sky above, and the obstacles in his way, he moved through the Broad toward the Springs. The solutions to a pair of his tasks in the alleys of the disparate quarter.

The birds flew independent of each other, yet it was clear that they worked in tandem. One circled high over head, disappearing behind the tops of the buildings watched from above. The second flew ahead of him following the winding alleys. At each intersection, it would perch on a sill or a line waiting for his approach. A few minutes into his trek, it found temporary reprieve on a pole extending from the wall, its sharp warning slowing his progress. He had no direct communication with the birds, no established language with the birds but the warning in the shrill tone was clear.

Risens ducked behind an outcropping of refuse ignoring the stench of rot as he watched the majestic bird, listening to the sounds of the city around him. The distinct shuffling and grating sounds, as if someone dragged something heavy and wooden across the slick stokes of the alley echoed through the cramped confines.

The raven’s focus was intent, tracking the source of the sounds from the corridor. After a short watch, the noises stopped and it called again. This time there was no urgency in the tone of its report. As it flapped ahead, he noted the change in the aura that surrounded it’s sleek figure. What had started as a dull green had now shifted to a muted yellow. While he could clearly see the changing colors, he was certain that the glow did not radiate on the walls near it, or even on the wood that it had perched.

Risens peered into the gloom of the alley ahead before entering. Blocking much of the path, nearly ten meters ahead, a heavy crate had been deposited, out the rear of the building to its side. That the ravens could be summoned to fight at his side had already been made clear. They could be used as his eyes in the sky watching over his movements from above. He was curious to understand what else they could do. 

Under the careful watch of the birds he snaked through the city without stopping again. The distance from the Raven’s Court to the Springs was not long and the reached his first destination quickly and unnoticed. Spread throughout each of the various sections of the city were vendors where one’s of his ilk could restock their gear, or in his case acquire new clothing without questions or coin.

The shops and their keepers were loyal to the crown, yet all operated independently. As such, even among their number, a few were far more discrete than others. It was to one of these he had charted his discrete course.

Risens had occasion throughout his service to the King to use the shops scattered around the city though this was not one he’d needed to visit in years. The front was weathered and generic, its windows frosted with age and neglect gave view to a paltry supply of simple blades and other odds and ends. He knew from experience that the steel contained within the secreted stock accessible from the rear of the building was far better than the serviceable gear up front.

The same held true for the gear as well. Risens looked up at the ravens that had guided his path—one perched atop the protruding frame just above the door while the other circled low over the tops of the buildings. The aura surrounding the furthest was difficult to see from the distance, yet the other’s was clear. Where it had been green when he first summoned the creatures it now was a faded red, though it seemed to pulse as he watched.

If they had responded to his command earlier, he expected they would again.

“Thank you for your service,” he whispered to the closest. “You are released with my thanks.”

The raven perched closest to him cocked his head to the side for a breath before angling its head skyward, issuing a quiet call. A few moments later, the second landed close to its side. From.close, Risens could see the distinctive aura of red that surrounded both of the creatures. With a subtle dip of the heads they both took to flight, disappearing behind the buildings in an instant.

He watched their graceful flight was a burgeoning sense of wonder and understanding. That the glow had changed colors over the time in his service was undoubtably linked to the duration of their service. As with his other newly acquired skills and items, each would have an expected period of rest before he could call on their services once more. That more birds could be added to the flock could be an invaluable addition.

With the ravens gone, Risens turned his attention to the doorway hidden among the alley. He was only a few blocks from the concealed entrance to Tawny’s discrete clinic though they were vasty different. The healers door was marked subtly by the cross that denoted her profession while the door to the shop was all but invisible except for those who knew where to look. The protruding ledge above that marked its location to all but the trained eyes looked like just another random feature in the rundown, cobbled together structures that bordered the shadowed back alley.

The section of the building before him was constructed of innocuous looking weathered stone. The exterior was slick with grime and growth but he knew the rock underneath his a secret. The surface was mage enhanced, guarding the contents concealed within. Placing his hand against the single round stone set among the naturally angular others he felt the tingle of the mageLock as it disengaged. He stepped back, his hand falling cautiously to his blade as the hollow clicking sound of the heavy lock withdrawing sounded from within.

 The narrow section of wall under the sill swung inward with a muted groan. The disguise was impressive. Even knowing that there was a doorway concealed among the facade, the seams were nearly invisible, disguised amongst the dirt and grime.

Risen stepped quickly into the small entryway, closing the door behind him. The chamber he entered was narrow ans intentionally unadorned, leaving no places for any to hide. A few meters ahead, a solid steel door blocked the passage. Knocking three sharp raps on the door, he waited patiently for the response. The vendors who ran these discrete locations would never ask questions, yet he banished the Shadows Shroud out of an abundance of caution. Now that the King had seen him wearing the mask, he would need to be extra vigilant. Rumors of an anonymous assassin wearing a metal mask bearing the likeness of a raven were sure to reach his ear.

He was no longer sure it mattered yet maintaining precaution was never time or effort wasted.

As it was he was thankful he still wore the fabric neck covering that had protected his face from the chill of the mountains icy heights. Pulling the slightly torn fabric up over his nose, he watched the door as the thin strip at eye height slid to the side exposing a pair of eyes behind it.

“I’m in need of clothing fit for a king,” Risens spoke the code.

“Only the finest in Halthome here,” came the prepared reply before the small opening slid shut.

He heard the jingling of a keyring and the muffled but expressive cursing as the correct key was far more elusive than expected. At last the metal panel opened to reveal the shop within, much of its view blocked by the expansive man looming in the doorway. He was easily a head and a half shorter than Risens but nearly twice as wide. Dwarves had long since vanished from the realms, yet if there was a man more closely fitting their storied description he’d never seen one.

“If clothing could only talk. Must have been epic, no?” Under his deep, gruff voice there was a longing that was undeniable. A yearning sense of desire for adventure, as if he’d been confined to his quarters for the entirety of his life, forced to watch the world travel by without him. The dramatic, heavy limp, like one leg was far shorter than the other as he turned and hobbled from the doorway hinted at the true cause of his lack of adventure.

“It was epic,” Risens responded, knowing that the man would have no means of truly understanding his words.

The room they’d entered was modest, though no space was wasted on the walls. Black and dark colored clothing, capes, tunics, belts and pants covered two of the wall, split only by a narrow hallway leading to the changing rooms beyond. Only a few scattered views of the dark wood behind peeked through the darkness, like muted stars in the night sky.

With the exception of the second, heavy iron door, the opposite walls were lined with an impressive collection of weapons for the tiny, seemingly rundown shop. Though clearly not as well stocked as the armory, the quality of the blades was obvious.

“Assume you don’t need any help with suggestions,” the man grumbled. “Take what you need.” He stepped back, leaning heavily against the reinforced door, folding his arms across his barrel chest that seemed to deflate with a sigh.

Risens nodded as he turned to the wall of clothing. The designs of the garments were all fairly similar, though he wasn’t overly picky. The eyes of the keeper following him as he made his selections sent a shiver of warning through him. He wasn’t afraid of the man himself though the attention was uncomfortable. He only took a fer moments to collect a new cloak, pants a new shirt, another wrap to cover his face and neck and a small supply of lock picks.

“Good cloaks those are. The new design is lighter and the fabric doesn’t make as much noise when it rubs together. The hidden, interior breast pockets are watertight and seal the contents inside. Change in any of the rooms you’d like,” the man noted with a wave of his hand. “The fire’s still burning in the hearth, throw your scraps in there.”

“Thank you.”

The shop keeper acknowledged him with a grunt, though he remained where he stood as Risens moved down the narrow hall to the designated changing rooms. There were two of such rooms, directly opposite each other on either side of the hall. Thankfully, both doors were open, spilling an orange glow and a noticeable wave of warmth from within. Confident that no one lurked inside either, he slipped into the one on the right side of the hall. Only then did the stocky merchant turn to exit the room.

There was something peculiar about him, though Risens couldn’t place it. In some regard, that was to be expected. The owners of the shops, scattered throughout the city weren’t chosen for their aptitude for the courts, but their discretion. He resolved himself to change as rapidly as possible.

He took a rapid visual survey of the room, confident that the tiny space help no murderous traps before closing the door behind him. It was thin and constructed of wood. At eye level, a rectangle was beveled into the wood. The curious design reminded him of the retractable viewing port on the heavy entrance door, though this one had no means of operating.

Risens had no desire to prolong his stay here. He had been set on an unexpected quest, one that he was surprisingly anxious to complete. If only he’d retained his supplies in the avalanche, he’d have only needed to stop to collect a new cloak. It wasn’t until he’d stripped himself of his current clothing that he realized just how mangled it was. He could have likely just tugged on one of the numerous scraps hanging from the cape to unravel the whole garment. The pants and the tuning were little better.

Risens was thankful for his athletic frame and flexibility as the room he’d been provided was barely wide enough for him to fully extend one arm. He grinned at the thought of the shopkeeper attempting to use the space. He doubted that the man would even fit in the room let alone be able to bend over. A small fire in the tiny hearth heated the space to nearly sweltering while bathing the room in a wavering orange glow. The alchemical flame needed no fuel to continue silently burning away. The small stool and peg for a hanger were quickly laden with his belts, blades and Raven’s Guide.

Dropping his shirt into the pile on the floor, he took a moment to appraise the Brands that scarred the skin of his torso. Four distinct, yet seemingly random designs graced his skin. The number itself was inconceivable. The powers behind them even more so. With days left before his return to the king, he hoped to have time to explore more of the doors within the roost, perhaps adding more to his chest.

Saving the thoughts of the possibilities for another time, he rapidly donned the new clothing, stowing his compact tome in his breast pocket while strapping the rest of his blades to his body. He kicked his old clothing into the small flame. With a quiet crackling the fabric took to flame, vanishing quickly into ash.

Risens turned to exit the door when the familiar orange glow that lit the room shifted to a deep blue. He whipped his head back around as the hissing sound of rushing air filled the cramped room. A billowing cloud of dark blue smoke puffed out from the hearth. 

Clamping his mouth shut, he returned the Shadows Shroud to his face as the room filled with smoke.