Guardian of the Night

23

At the top of the stairs, she turned toward the area where she had sat, days before, informing Asnarrus of her pitiful progress. Where, a day later, in a fit of anger, she had come to confront Asnarrus, believing him the one that had ordered Ghusz dead and the Watch House ransacked. How ironic that she had believed him that day, only to find that she had the right of it all along. Thoughts of Ghusz' fate turned her stomach once again.

She still dithered as to what she should do. If she battered the obsequious, corrupt man into submission, she did not doubt word would reach those that held her family before she even left the man's office. Asnarrus, in his position, could have any number of hidden operatives in his personal employ. The real power in the Senate, guiding policy, whispering in Senatorial ears, insinuating himself in every thread weaved within the Senate for his own purposes.

As she reached the door, she heard the unmistakable sound of swords loosening in scabbards behind her. The guards expected violence from her and she wished she could show them what true violence was, but her family's lives lay in the balance. She half-turned, glaring at the guards, daring them to draw their swords upon her and give her a reason to defend herself. Then, with a slow, deliberate raise of the hand, her fingers curling into a fist, she rapped on the wood of the door and waited.

Long moments passed and her eyes never wavered from the guards, but theirs did. The woman drew her sword further out of the scabbard, the man released the grip of his. They exchanged glances, shifted their feet, licked drying lips and still Bilain glared at them, her features set like stone. They stood no chance of intimidating her, but intimidation was only another way of greeting each other in The Sprawl.

After what must have felt like hours to the two guards, the door began to open. They looked toward the door, but Bilain would not release them from her gaze. They would remember this day, or they would not, but she doubted they would tell a raucous tale of the time a lowly Watch Captain of The Sprawl withered before them. She doubted they would speak of it to anyone.

"Ah, Grasall! Come in! Come in!" Even the sound of his voice made Bilain want to rip out his throat. Asnarrus' arm waved past her to the guards. "Go away. Captain Grasall will not hurt me. Not today."

He laughed. A little chuckle at a joke that only he and Bilain understood. The guards began to step away, moving backward, until Bilain allowed her eyes to move away from them. As soon as she did so, the guards turned and almost raced their way back to the curving staircase, and their posts where they would encounter little worse than a few terse words about a slight tarnish to their pretty armour.

That left Bilain alone with Asnarrus and he looked at her as though she were an old friend, rolling his hand, inviting her in to his office. She, of course, had little choice in the matter, even though she had chosen to come. He stepped inside, holding the door wide until she passed far enough into the office to close the door. The quiet thud of wood meeting wood felt final and ominous.

"I thought I should ..." She stopped as Grasall shook his head, a finger pressing against his lips,  a little frown creasing his forehead.

"Drink? I'm led to believe you do enjoy your Yürzlend rum. Not to my particular tastes, I must admit, but not an altogether distasteful beverage. I hear Idthirion rum is giving the Yürzlend concoction a run for its money." As he talked, he uncorked a decanter, pouring the contents into two cut glasses. "I, of course, enjoy a little brandy, much like your husband, yes? Quite the coincidence."

She knew exactly what this little aside was meant to accomplish. In few words that any listening in could understand, Asnarrus had told her that he did, indeed, hold Ranaie. True, Asnarrus could have found out what her and Ranaie's tastes in alcohol were by other means, but he wanted her to know, in no uncertain terms, that he controlled this meeting.