The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) (5 page)

Saphirra snickered at that comment.

“What do you mean?
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her?” Marielle asked, truly not comprehending to what he was alluding.

“She has been stealing from the merchants in the Trade District for months now. She is quite good, but my agents have detected her on more than one occasion and warned her to stop. She does not,” he went on, shifting in his chair. “I have two choices now. She either joins me in my endeavor….”

“Or?” Marielle asked concernedly, already knowing the end of that statement.

“She becomes food for the sharks,” Saphirra answered plainly, placing a poisonous stare upon Marielle, meant to threaten her.

Marielle’s face went through a series of twists and turns that Ganthorpe reasoned was her deciphering what was best for Rose under the circumstances. She obviously cared a great deal for the young woman and was currently under duress about the whole subject.

“You see, I own the underworld of Oakhaven,” Ganthorpe explained, pulling the half-elven woman from her reverie. “And soon enough, when I become the Assistant Mayor, I will own the entire town. If I were you, I’d keep that in mind when I decided who I wanted watching my back. I know you have your own muscle in this town, but with me backing you, it would be greater still and would put you in a much stronger position.”

“I see.” She stood and paced the floor fretfully. It was a thinly veiled threat he’d made, they both knew, but it brought up a good point. She could always use help in the right places.

“You will take care of her,” Marielle told him. It was not a question.

“Of course,” Ganthorpe promised, that haughty and confident smile that she had become used to was planted firmly on his face.

“Very well,” she said. “Can someone escort me back to my establishment?”

“Of course,” Ganthorpe stated again, standing and indicating for her to follow him. Marielle did so. He watched intently as he felt the cold, hard eyes of Saphirra staring after Marielle as she walked out of the room and into the hall beyond. That was something of concern that he may have to address sooner than later with this bloodthirsty rogue. But not now…soon enough, he considered as his thoughts turned to Rose and he was truly excited to begin her training.

Rose did not take the news well at first, realizing that she would not see Marielle all that often in the weeks and months to come. She hugged the woman and walked out of the brothel the next day to a mix of sobs and hushed whispers, as Ganthorpe noted the cruel, hushed smiles upon the faces of Sabrina and Felicity, the two girls she’d spoken of on more than one occasion.

She did, however, spend some time understanding, studying and applying the very special talent she’d somehow discovered of traversing the shadow realm, which was how they referred to it. She and Ganthorpe practiced it a few more times shortly after Rose became a member of the Thieves’ Guild. At first it was something that she did not understand wholly, until Ganthorpe and she reasoned it out one fateful night. They spent several weeks further exploring what her abilities were, practicing how the young woman could travel through the realm of shadow at will. It was yet another surprise Ganthorpe had stumbled upon that shone good fortune upon him and his recent decisions.

Over the next few months, Ganthorpe instructed Rose alongside his best thieves, adding to the already potent repertoire she’d built on her own, to become an incredible asset. She had a unique mixture of shrewd intellect, instinctual survival skills and raw talent, along with her newly-discovered shadow walking ability.

Ganthorpe showed her the routes to and from the Warehousing District, both above and below the city, and made her memorize them. She paid special attention to the series of subterranean conduits, formerly a series of mine shafts and caverns that were known only to a very select few. Even most of the city officials did not know of their existence, and those who did were either dead or necessary pawns in Ganthorpe’s game of politics.

The Master of Thieves spent time with Rose daily, teaching her the ways of the rogue and this seemed to add to the already accordant chemistry they’d shared before. The two of them were together most of the time, and it was quite evident to anyone witnessing their interactions, that they were more than friends. Anyone that witnessed the two of them together for more than a few moments was aware of this—including Saphirra.

Seeing Rose and Ganthorpe together bothered her more than a little as she and Ganthorpe had spent the past few years as lovers off and on. And now, with Rose in the picture, Ganthorpe openly shunned her advances, giving in to her wiles only on his terms, when the two of them were alone. With that hard realization staring back at her in the mirror that night ,and before carrying out her task as laid out for her by Ganthorpe, she felt it was time to make a few ‘changes’ to her given plan.

 “Spending a lot of time with that one,” Saphirra observed one morning, when Ganthorpe arrived at his office and took a seat at his desk in one of the many homes he owned in Oakhaven. He waved a hand dismissively and scowled at her.

She smiled, this being exactly the response she’d anticipated and she felt it further bolstered her decision. She’d completed his mission, surveying the merchant named Bronn, a new player in the game of less-than-lawful deeds and he was also a possible threat to Ganthorpe’s carefully fashioned organization. He was also trying to conduct a bit of illicit business behind Ganthorpe’s back, even after being warned that this was, at the very least, frowned upon. Saphirra had pushed the instructions given her a little further though, and deliberately attempted to up the ante in an attempt to overthrow the current leadership—and spitefully so.

 “What does that mean, exactly?” he asked, removing his eyes from hers and staring blankly at a day-old report he’d received from his agents and spies on the streets about the city’s goings-on.

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” she answered, smiling at him and looking like the cat that swallowed the canary.

“Stop with the games…what news?” he asked, looking up at her again with an irritated expression.

“It went off without a hitch,” she said, producing a pair of exotic looking daggers with vicious curves to them and runes etched into the pommels. The daggers were clearly affected by some kind of magic and mirrored the length of a short sword. “And he had these,” she added, waving the weapons about before sheathing them.

“What? How did you—”

“Let’s just say that he won’t be needing them anymore,” Saphirra said, nodding to a figure that hid in the shadows, as silent as a shadow himself. The figure moved so noiselessly toward Ganthorpe that he had no idea that he was ambushed until it was too late. Only then did Ganthorpe realize that he had overlooked a few details upon entering—namely that the guards normally posted at his door were missing and that most of the lanterns that lit his office were dimmed. He of course, thought nothing much of it. He scolded himself for not paying more attention to the details presented as his face twisted in anger.

“Any idea what you want me to do with this?” Saphirra teased as she tossed a sack onto the desk. It was barely open, but thick with dried crimson, and Ganthorpe could see the top of a head peeking out the top until he realized it was Bronn’s.

“You have crossed a line, my dear,” he said as calmly as he could, while his unknown assailant held a sharp blade against his throat. “You were told to collect information—not body parts!—from the target.” He tried hard to maintain an air of authority and Saphirra laughed at that poor performance.

“You are the one that has crossed the line!” she shrieked in an uncharacteristic manner. Then calm washed over her contorted features as she took a deep breath.

Ganthorpe discerned that she was obviously flustered.

“I don’t think you will be giving me orders anymore,” she observed, matter-of-factly, to the apparently helpless man.

Ganthorpe wondered what exactly she was going to do with him. He had a way out, he recalled, risky though it was. Months prior, he had had the exterior of his chair and desk fitted with a row of tiny, poisoned darts for just such an occasion. Each of his offices was outfitted this way, for Ganthorpe did not like to take any chances. The darts, five of them in each section as he recalled, were very small and loaded on top of tightly wound springs. They were hidden beneath the leathers of the chair along the arms and top back as well as the front and back edges of his desk for just such an occasion. In this particular case, they would shoot up and into the body of anyone leaning over his chair, such as his unseen assailant was doing currently.

Ganthorpe assumed it was a man behind him based on numerous facts: the callous fingers, the strength of the hold and the sheer size of the hand on his head. The man would be dead or badly wounded if he pressed the mechanism under his seat twice in succession or tapped the lever on the top of the chair’s base—either trigger would do it. Ganthorpe had settled on two pushes as the activation method to avoid any accidental firings. Of course that would launch all of them on the chair, but it had not been quite perfected yet. He clicked it once in preparation and waited. He was curious to see what Saphirra had to say. He would certainly have to silence her now as their relationship had irrevocably changed with her betrayal. He was extremely disappointed with the woman, given their professional and personal history.

He was fighting the mix of emotions when he saw her…

Rose!