Twilight Beacon Rewrites

Chapter One

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Chapter One


End of winter, the month of Thaumont. The icy rain and muddy month in the lowland fields and along the sea coast. Twas the season of choppy grey waters in Seal Bay as the north wind gusted temperamentally. Yet, this year the ill wind along the coastal towns wasn't all together weather born. There existed an underlying disturbance in the community fabric of the tidy brick manored cities. A gutter rat with aspirations of nobility was rising unchecked, stepping briskly upward along the social ladder like an unchained galley slave rushing to escape a fire in the holds of a ship. His appearance in the circles of Moriv society hadn't gone unnoticed, yet those who approached him with the intent to shove him back into his proper place were swayed either to support his rise into their midst or were eliminated.

Eral Timmins was at the core of his being a business man with ambitions. He loved the feel of the finest silk and linen against his skin. He also enjoyed the latest fashion, yet refused to over endulge thus avoided the image of the fop. He was a young man, though not naive. He was a handsome man with aquiline nose and strong jawline. Women often looked upon him with appreciative glances, and wondered if his red hair was a warning of hidden traps within his character. He wasn't a tall figure, but well muscled and lithe. His reputation as a superb swordsman were not exaggerated as a few of the stubborn opposition experienced too late. Dueling had made him rich beyond his boyhood fantasy. For every noble son he eliminated there was an opening for further business opportunity later.

Money was important, yet since money was no longer a problem for him, he realized that money alone didn't grant a man the power he craved. Two years before, money had got him as far as it could. Since then he'd managed to gather around himself an army of thugs, snitches, and other assorted desperate souls to handle the unpleasant deeds needed to maintain his rise to respectability. His most important achievment was his personal guard. He surrounded himself with a hundred men loyal to him and him alone. The top ten of the hundred were closer to him than blood kin. Ten master assassins who in turn lead a group of nine expert assassins. Each of the ten acted as his under bosses, his journeyman.

Eral was still trying to get use to the change in titles. He was nearly successfully groomed and accepted as a respectable business man and underboss and the title Upright no longer afforded him an advantage to his continuing rise. So it was he was addressed as Herr Timmins and the top ten of his elite guard were now Journeymen.

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Eral paced as he digested the news delivered by one of his many sources within the city. He'd dismissed the young man after rewarding him with the standard three silver coins.

"This isn't good news, Frankie." Eral stopped and faced his top man who stood respectfully behind his master's chair. Eral shook his head as he returned to his morning meal. He sat with the slowness of someone thinking about other things than eating. He snapped the silk napkin open before placing it over his lap and shook his head again as if doing so would make the news he'd received go away or change.

"No, this news means things are changing, someone is acting against me. Who, Frankie? Who could counter my actions? No one knows I possess the God relic."

Eral paused, then looked up over his shoulder at his confidant.

Frankie shifted his weight. He wore a scowl of uncertanty. When he realized Eral wanted a reply, Frankie cleared the lump from his throat.

"No, Herr Timmins. Nobody knows you possess any relic. We killed them all who was with us when you found it."

"Yes, we did, didn't we?" Eral picked up his knife and fork and cut into the steak. He shook his head as watery blood spread onto the fine porcelain plate. "Still, it is strange that Feanelin and Serai have disappeared from the West Quarter. Fea wasn't anything special, but his sister held promise to be sure."

Eral closed his eyes as he closed his mouth over the large bite of rare meat. He inhaled with pleasure and smiled as he chewed. Juices leaked from the corner of his mouth and dripped down his chin. Eral was still chewing with cheek bulging when he commanded Frankie to sit and share his table.

Frankie sat and took a green apple from the fruit basket. He peeled it with a small table knife. "Serai and Feanelin have kin in Halice Port. Maybe, it is as simple as they went to visit a sick aunt or grandmama."

Frankie watched his master as he spoke. Eral swallowed the last of his bite and paused with another mouthful poised midway between plate and teeth. He nodded in agreement to what Frankie suggested.

"True, the girl and boy could have gone visiting, but I suspect something more. I feel a strain on the vision path. Get six brawny boys together, but get ones who know how to be discreet, and find that Freyne girl. Find her and silence her. I can't afford to let another gypsy slip through my net. Once she is gone then I will meditate to reestablish the clear path."

Frankie stood to leave.

"Oh, and Frankie, make sure she is dead. I don't want any surprises showing up say ten years from now."

"Yes, Herr Timmins. The Freyne girl will be found and killed as you say. She will disappear and her kin will never know her fate."

Eral stuffed the meat in his mouth as Frankie left his chambers. He smiled with confidence. The troublesome aspect of Gazsi and Cassini would be over before sundown if he knew his Frankie. Eral's right hand wasn't yet old enough to sport a beard but he was the best assassin he had on the payroll. Eral chuckled. To his mind there was nothing better than the taste of bloody meat and ordering an execution to start a day right.

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Take care and may your road lead to only good places.

Deb

Compassion and the effort to try and understand some thing that was not understood before is a step toward acceptance not only of others but most importantly of yourself.

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