Twilight Beacon Rewrites

Prelude and Chapter One RW 3

Prelude

Cassini stumbled along the wet cobblestone as the night's cold drizzle chilled the last strand of confidence to which she so desperately clung. A street lamp flickered as an impurity in the wick resisted the flame within the glass housing. Cassini looked up and wondered how the small flame could illuminate anything. The glass inside was layered with thick soot from impure oil. The city magistrate was trying to save on the budget and still keep up the image that the streets of Skaptinhausen were safe. She knew better. Skaptinhausen would never be safe again.

She was dead. If the gods were merciful, her murder would be sudden and quick.

She remembered what Breagin had said to her not more than an hour past. He confirmed that it was Eral Timmins who had choreographed her father's recent incarceration into the city dungeons. Cassini had suspected that Upright Eral had gained some unknown backing and was eliminating anyone who would not swear fealty and pay homage to his growing influence. Her Da had fought any kind of merger with Eral and he was now locked away in Ulek's cave, imprisoned for something he'd never do.

Breagin's parcel of information confirmed her fears. She'd felt herself sway as the blood left her face and Breagin reached out and steadied her. While they were close he spoke soft caring words of friendly wisdom. He'd advised her to shadow her own skin. She tried to pull herself away from his firm grasp, but he held her and wouldn't let her ignore his plea in her favor. He'd said, Eral wouldn't stop until he had Gaszi's business and she the worst for it. She knew he was right. She had only three choices. She could stay and swear fealty to Upright Eral and pay him for the right to remain with her kin and maybe be spared, though unlikely, due to her recent open resistence to his offer; or she could stay and go underground and eventually be hunted down and exterminated like vermin in the sewers. Cassini knew the first two choices were not an option for her. Her only guarantee for survival, as slim as that possibility was; her only realistic chance of survival was to run as far away as possible from Skaptinhausen, from her home and family, and everything she knew and loved. If she was to escape Eral's grasping control and survive, she needed to disappear from the face of the gehas. Breagin had it right, she had to shadow her own skin and remove herself as Eral's target. Yet, how was she going to hide from someone who had eyes everywhere? She didn't even know how far those eyes could see.

That said, Breagin had silenced up. He let go of her arms and hung his head. What more could be spoken? Cassini remembered how her own gut clenched cold as the full import of her situation seeped into her consciouness. She'd lost her Da's freight business; his only legacy, twenty years of sweat for nothing but heart ache. Upright Eral owned the markers who would have helped her save her da's business.

Cassini remembered how the silence in the alcove had suffocated her. She'd felt Breagin's own loyalty waver as he physically stepped away from her. If he stayed associated with her, his own life was endangered. There was nothing left to do but pay him for his parcel. The faint chink of coin in the purse she'd handed him resounded through the silence like a judge's gavel after pronouncing the death sentence. Breagin took the purse without any further word. When he opened the door, he hesitated. She imagined he struggled with himself to try and say a comforting farewell, but in the end Breagin only nodded with his eyes down cast and slipped out of the windowless alcove.

She was totally alone in the blackness. Cassini realized as she stood there that she was alone in all of the gehas. There was nowhere she could go and not be hunted. Cassini tried to fathom how she had reached this path. It was simple, really. She had under-estimated Eral's hold over the guild and over-estimated her own position within that same hierarchy and she couldn't understand how she was such a dire threat for Eral. She'd been naive to believe the wrongs done to her Da would be righted if she petitioned the Journeymen council. Yet, there was something more at play here than one man's insatiable greed. She'd lived on the fringe of the law all her life and she had never heard tell nor experienced anything this complete. The spiral of the last two years took everyone in the under-city by surprise. Even the guild bosses were backtracking from Eral Timmins. He'd be running the city before this wave was through, and she would be one of the bodies washed to sea after all was said and done if she didn't leave now.

She'd remained in the empty alcove for a long time. She hadn't vented her fears nor made a sound more than the passing in and out of her breath while all these thoughts unfolded in her mind. She hadn't moved her feet to exit the small enclosure until her stomach and throat relaxed. She'd resolved to find an escape. There had to be a way to save herself. There was always a way. Isn't that what her Da had always taught her?



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 ambition. He loved the feel of the finest silk and linen against his skin. He also enjoyed the latest fashion, yet refused to over indulge thus avoided the image of the fop. He was a young man, though not naive. He was a handsome man with an 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 was 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. He had most of the court in his pocket as well as the average street constable. This was necessary since his base of operations started consisted mainly of an army of thugs, snitches, and other assorted desperate souls to handle the unpleasant deeds needed to maintain his rise to respectability. The under-city vermin did his dirty deeds and he protected them from the law.

He was very proud of his personal guard. He'd 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 journeymen. As he rose into the upper crust of Moriv society it was necessary to hide the sewer filth from his boots and take on the titles of respectability. When he was a boy the position of over-boss of a portion of the undercity was his highest dream. He'd coveted the Upright title when his men first shouted it out. But since then, his horizon had expanded. No longer was the title Upright uttered by his men. He knew he could rule the city state of Skaptinhausen if he chose to. So he started financing businesses throughout the city and high-jacking important properties from other Over-bosses. The arrest of Gazsi Freyne, the owner of Gazsi's Freight business which was the main hub of all free trading teamsters within the city and along the coast from Halice to Derekstadten was the final trophy he needed to clinch his grip and secure his power.

Eral was still trying to get use to the change in titles. He had nearly successfully groomed himself and was openly accepted as a respectable business man. The titles over-boss and 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 who were known as his underbosses, were now Journeymen.

Eral paced as he digested the news delivered by one of his many sources within the city. He'd dismissed the boy 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 things other 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. Cassini has dropped from sight also. No one seems to know where she has got off to. I feel a strain on the vision path, Frankie. I need you to gather 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. Searai and Fea are small fry compared to Gazsi's kin."

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.

2181 words


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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