The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 42: The Riddle's Answer

I had been to this gate before. It was small, unassuming, tucked between two tenements, and the path beyond it curved quickly out of sight. The symbol that had marked it on the map-- a crown-- was worked into the iron grille in a crest of a simple crown over two crossed swords, or perhaps daggers. Last time I had been here Therese had followed me, and I never did figure out what lay beyond the gate. As it turned out, what lay beyond the gate had come to find me.

"That's the entrance," Wes said. "The Assassin's Court."

"The assassins' equivalent of the Thieves' Dens?"

"Kind of, I guess. Except anyone who knows the way can come into the Thieves' Dens. Enter the Assassin's Court without an invitation and you just don't come out again."

I leaned against the cool stone of the building and considered that. We were across the street from the gate, watching it in the faint moonlight as if it might do tricks. "What's with the crown and calling it a court?"

Wes shrugged. "Just how they are. Even with criminals, there's a hierarchy, you know? If thieves are Maenar's commoners, then the assassins are the nobles."

"I don't like nobles."

"Know a lot of them?" Wes laughed, and I mentally kicked myself. No, I wasn't supposed to know nobles, I was supposed to be a common thief from the capital who had never set foot in a castle.

"So they think they rule Maenar?"

"Well, put it this way-- Roman's title is king of assassins."

There was a scuffling sound from above our heads and we both looked up. Without thought, my dagger appeared in my hand.

No one was there.

Wes craned his head. "Probably a rat."

"On the roof?"

"You haven't spent much time exploring Maenar, have you?"

I shuddered.

"Anyway," he said. "Can we go back to the inn now? You've seen the place, or as much of it as we can see. What we need to do is make a plan."

I didn't answer. Going back to the inn seemed like a step backward considering we were standing right in the front of the place. It wasn't like we had help waiting for us back there.

We'd tried telling Ysmay what I suspected, but the beginning of the war had thrown all of the rebels into a panic. All through the day I'd noticed that no one walked alone or took their usual shortcuts. The tension had spread even to honest people on the street, who took one look at rebels and thieves not even bothering to hide their weapons and quickened their step. Everyone knew something big would happen soon. The rebels would have to mount a counterattack on the thieves who had ambushed them-- or whom they thought had ambushed them.

And Ysmay was too busy with all of this to listen.

"So you think what? The assassins are attacking us too?"

"No," I'd said, trying to explain it to her as I had to Wes. "There were only ever assassins. They want us to believe the thieves attacked us so we'll attack them and bring them into the war and..."

She'd glared at me.

"...revenge. Because the thieves stole the fighter faction?"

"Don't you think if it hadn't been the thieves who attacked us they would have said something by now?" She'd snapped. "I don't have time for this, Eyro."

I didn't agree with her logic. Thieves and rebels weren't exactly getting together for tea every afternoon. When would the thieves have said, "By the way, we know you think we attacked you, but we didn't, so let's sort this out"? Did the thieves even know the rebels thought they'd attacked? Or did they just see rebels arming themselves and getting riled up with no provocation?