A Dance of Cloaks

Aaron sat alone. The walls were bare wood. The floor had no carpet. There wereno windows and only a single door, locked and barred from the outside. Thesilence was heavy, broken only by his occasional cough. In the far corner was apail full of his waste. Thankfully, he had gotten used to the smell after thefirst day.

His new teacher had given him only one instruction: wait. He had been given awaterskin, but no food, no timetable, and worst of all, nothing to read. Theboredom was far worse than his previous instructor's constant beatings andshouts. Gus the Gruff he had called himself. The other members of the guildwhispered that Thren had lashed Gus thirty times after his son's training wasfinished. Aaron hoped his new teacher would be outright killed. Of all histeachers over the past five years, he was starting to think Robert Haern was thecruelest.

That was all he knew, the man's name. He was a wiry old man with a gray beardcurled around his neck and tied behind his head. When he'd led Aaron to theroom, he had walked with a cane. Aaron had never minded isolation, so at firstthe idea of a few hours in the dark sounded rather enjoyable. He had alwaysstayed in corners and shadows, greatly preferring to watch people talk than takepart in their conversation.

But now? After spending untold hours, perhaps even days, locked in darkness?Even with his love of isolation and quiet, this was ...

And then Aaron felt certain of what was going on. Walking over to the door, heknelt before it and pushed his fingers into the crack beneath. For a littlewhile light had crept in underneath the frame, but then someone had stuffed arag across it, completing the darkness. Using his slender fingers he pushed therag back, letting in a bit of light. He had not done so earlier for fear ofangering his new master. Now he couldn't care less. They wanted him to speak.They wanted him to crave conversation with others. Whoever this Robert Haernwas, his father had surely hired him for that purpose.

"Let me out."

The words came out as a raspy whisper, yet the volume startled him. He had meantto boom the command at the top of his lungs. Was he really so timid?

"I said let me out," he shouted, raising the volume tremendously.

The door opened. The light hurt his eyes, and during the brief blindness, histeacher slipped inside and shut the door. He held a torch in one hand and a bookin the other. His smile was partially hidden behind his beard.

"Excellent," Robert said. "I've only had two students last longer, both withmore muscle than sense." His voice was firm but grainy, and it seemed to thunderin the small dark room.

"I know what you're doing," Aaron said.

"Come now, what's that?" the old man asked. "My ears haven't been youthful forthirty years. Speak up, lad!"

"I said I know what you're doing."

Robert laughed.

"Is that so? Well, knowing and preventing are two different things. You may knowa punch is coming, but does that mean you can stop it? Well, your father hastold me of your training, so perhaps you could, yes, perhaps."

As his eyes adjusted to the torchlight, Aaron slowly backed into a corner. Withthe darkness gone he felt naked. His eyes flicked to the pail in the corner, andhe suddenly felt embarrassed. If the old man was bothered by the smell, hedidn't seem to show it.

"Who are you?" Aaron asked after the silence had stretched longer than a minute.

"My name is Robert Haern. I told you that when I first brought you in here."

"That tells me nothing," Aaron said. "Who are you?"

Robert smiled, just a flash of amusement on his wrinkled face, but Aaron caughtit and wondered what it meant.

"Very well, Aaron. At one point I was the tutor of King Edwin Vaelor, but he hassince gotten older and tired of my ... corrections."

"Corrections," Aaron said, and it all confirmed what he'd guessed. "Was this mycorrection for not talking enough?"

To Aaron's own surprise, Robert looked shocked.

"Correction? Dear lord, boy, no, no. I was told of your quiet nature, but thatis not what your father has paid me for. This dark room is a lesson that I hopeyou will soon understand. You have learned how to wield a sword and sneakthrough shadows. I, however, walk with a cane and make loud popping noises. Sotell me, what purpose might I have with you?"

Aaron shifted his arms tighter about himself. He had no idea whether it was dayor night, but the room felt cold and he had nothing but his thin clothing forwarmth.

"You're to teach me," Aaron said.

"That's stating the bloody obvious. What is it I will teach you?"

He sat down in the middle of the room while still holding the torch aloft. Hegrunted, and true to his word his back popped when he stretched.

"I don't know," the boy said.

"A good start," Robert said. "If you don't know an answer, just say so and saveeveryone the embarrassment. Uninformed guesses only stall the conversation.However, you should have known the answer. I tutored a king, remember? Mind mywords. You will always know the answer to every question I ask you."

"A tutor," said Aaron. "I can already read and write. What else can an old manteach me?"

Robert smiled in the flickering torchlight.

"There are men trying to kill you, Aaron. Did you know that?"

At first Aaron opened his mouth to deny it, then stopped. The look in histeacher's eye suggested Aaron think carefully before answering.

"Yes," he finally said. "Though I convinced myself otherwise. The Trifect wantall the thief guilds destroyed, their members dead. I am no different."

"Oh, but you are different," Robert said as he put his book down and shifted thetorch to his other hand. "You're the heir to Thren Felhorn, one of the mostfeared men in all of Veldaren. Some say you'll find no finer a thief even if yousearched every corner of Dezrel."

Such worship of his father was hardly foreign to Aaron, and something he alwaystook for granted. For once, he dared ask something he'd never had the courage toask.

"Is he the finest?" Aaron asked.

"I don't know enough of such matters to have a worthwhile opinion," Robert said."Though I know he has lived a long time, and the wealth he amassed in hisyounger years is legendary."

Silence came over them. Aaron looked about the room, but it was bare and coveredwith shadows. He sensed his teacher waiting for him to speak, but he knew notwhat to say. His gaze lingered on the torchlight as Robert spat to the side.

"There are many questions you should ask, though one is the most obvious andmost important. Think, boy."

Aaron's eyes flitted from the torchlight to the old man.

"Who are the Trifect?" he asked.

"Who is what? Speak up, I'm a flea's jump away from deaf."

"The Trifect," Aaron nearly shouted. "Who are they?"

"That is an excellent question," Robert said. "The lords of the Trifect have asaying: 'After the gods, us.' When the Gods' War ended, and Karak and Ashhurwere banished by the goddess, the land was a devastated mess. Countriesfractured, people rebelled, and pillagers marched up and down the coasts. Threewealthy men formed an alliance to protect their assets. Five hundred years agothey adopted their sigil, that of an eagle perched on a golden branch. They'vebeen loyal to it ever since."

He paused and rubbed his beard. The torch switched hands.

"A question for you, boy: why do they want the thief guilds dead?"

The question was not difficult. The sigil was the answer.

"They never let go of their gold," Aaron said. "Yet we take it from them."

"Precisely," Robert said. "To be sure, they'll spend their gold, sometimesfrivolously and without good reason. But even in giving away their coin, theyare still master of it. But to have it taken? That is unacceptable to them. TheTrifect tolerated the various thief guilds for many centuries while focusing ongrowing their power. And grow it did. Nearly the entire nation of Neldar isunder their control in some way. For the longest of times they viewed the guildsas a nuisance, nothing more. That changed. Tell me why, boy; that is your nextquestion."

This one was tougher. Aaron went over the words of his master. His memory wassharp, and at last he remembered a comment that seemed appropriate.

"My father amassed a legendary amount of wealth," he said. He smiled, proud ofdeducing the answer. "He must have taken too much from the Trifect, and they nolonger considered him a nuisance."

"He was now a threat," Robert agreed. "And he was wealthy. Worse, though, wasthat his prestige was uniting the other guilds. Mostly your father tempted thestronger members and brought them into his fold, but about eight years ago hestarted making promises, threats, bribes, and even assassinations to bring aboutthe leaders he needed. As a united presence, he thought even the Trifect wouldbe reluctant to challenge their strength."

The old man opened his book, which turned out to not be a book at all. Theinside was hollow, containing some hard cheese and dried meat. It took all ofAaron's willpower to keep from lunging for the food. From his short time withhis teacher, he knew such a rash, discourteous action would be rebuked.

"Take it," Robert said. "You have honored me well with your attention."

Aaron didn't need to be told twice. The old man rose to his feet and walked tothe door.

"I will return," he said. His fingers brushed over a slot in the wall, too fastfor Aaron to see. He heard a soft pop, and then a tiny jut of metal sprungoutward. Robert slid the torch through the metal, fastening it to the wall.

"Thank you," Aaron said, thrilled to know the torchlight would remain.

"Think on this," Robert said. "Eight years ago, your father united the guilds.Five years ago, war broke out between them and the Trifect. What caused yourfather's failure?"

The door opened, bright light flooded in, and then the old man was gone.

Thren was waiting for Robert not far from the door. They were inside a large andtastefully decorated home. Thren leaned against the wall, positioned so he couldsee both entrances to the living room.

"You told me the first session was the most important," Thren said, his armscrossed over his chest. "How did my son perform?"

"Admirably," Robert said. "And I do not say so out of fear. I've told kingstheir princes were brats with more snot than brains."

"I can hurt you worse than any king," Thren said, but his comment lacked teeth.

"You should see Vaelor's dungeon sometime," Robert said. "But yes, your son wasintelligent and receptive, and most importantly, he let go of his anger forbeing subjected to the room's darkness once I told him it wasn't a punishment. Afew more torches and I'll give him some books to read."

"The smoke won't kill him, will it?" Thren asked as he glanced at the door.

"There are tiny vents in the ceiling," Robert said as he hobbled toward a chair."I have done this a hundred times, guildmaster, so do not worry. Due to theisolation, his mind will be craving knowledge. He'll learn to master his mind,which I'll hone sharper than any dagger of yours. Hopefully when his time withme is done, he will remember this level of focus and mimic it in more chaoticenvironments."

Thren pulled his hood over his face and bowed.

"You were expensive," he said. "As the Trifect grows poorer, so do we."

"Whether coin, gem, or food, a thief will always have something to steal."

Thren's eyes seemed to twinkle at that.

"Well worth the coin," he said.

The guildmaster bowed, turned, and then vanished into the dark streets ofVeldaren. Robert tossed his cane aside and walked without a limp to the far sideof the room. After pouring himself a drink, he sat down in his chair with agrunt of pleasure.

He expected more time to pass, but it seemed people had gotten more impatient asRobert grew older. Barely halfway into his glass, he heard two thumps againstthe outside of his door. They were his only warning before the plainly dressedman with only the barest hints of gray in his hair entered the living room. Hissimple face was marred by a scar curling from his left eye to his ear. He didhis best to hide it with the hood of his cloak, but Robert had seen it manytimes before. The man was Gerand Crold, who had replaced Robert as the king'smost trusted teacher and advisor.

"Did Thren leave pleased?" Gerand asked as he sat down opposite Robert.

"Indeed," Robert said, letting a bit of his irritation bleed into his voice."Though I think that pleasure would have faded had he seen the king's advisorsneaking into my home."

"I was not spotted," the man said with an indignant sniff. "Of that, I amcertain."

"With Thren Felhorn you can never be certain," Robert said with a dismissivewave of his hand. "Now what brings you here?"

The advisor nodded toward a door. Beyond it was the room Aaron remained within.

"He can't hear us, can he?" Gerand asked.

"Of course not. Now answer my question."

Gerand wiped a hand over his clean-shaven face and let his tone harden.

"For a man living by the king's grace alone, you seem rather rude to hisservants. Should I whisper in his ear how uncooperative you're being in thisendeavor?"

"Whisper all you want," Robert said. "I am not afraid of that little whelp. Hesees spooks in the shadows and jumps with every clap of thunder."

Gerand's eyes narrowed.

"Dangerous words, old man. Your life won't last much longer carrying on withsuch recklessness."

"My life is nearing its end whether I am reckless or not," Robert said beforefinishing his drink. "I whisper and plot behind Thren Felhorn's back. I may aswell act like the dead man I am."

Gerand let out a laugh.

"You put too much stock in that man's abilities. He's getting older, and he isfar from the demigod the laymen whisper about when drunk. But if my presencehere scares you so, then I will hurry along. Besides, my wife is waiting for me,and she promised a young redhead for us to play with to celebrate my thirtiethbirthday."

Robert rolled his eyes. The boorish advisor was always bragging about hisexploits, a third of which were probably true. They were Gerand's favoritestalling tactic when he wanted to linger, observe, and distract his companions.What he was stalling for, Robert didn't have a clue.

"We Haerns have no carnal interests," Robert said, rising from his chair with anexaggerated wince of pain. Gerand saw this and immediately took the cup,offering to fill it for him.

"We just pop right out of our mud fields," Robert continued. "Ever hear thatslurp when your boot gets stuck and you have to force it out? That's us, makinganother Haern."

"Amusing," Gerand said as he handed Robert the glass. "So did you come from anobleman's cloak, or perhaps a wise man's discarded sock?"

"Neither," Robert said. "Someone pissed in a gopher hole, and out I came, wetand angry. Now tell me why you're here, or I'll go to King Vaelor myself and lethim know how displeased I am with your cooperation in this endeavor."

If Gerand was upset by the threat, he didn't show it.

"Love redheads," he said. "You know what they say about them? Oh, of course youdon't, mud-birth and all. So feisty. But you want me to hurry, so hurry I shall.I've come for the boy."

"Aaron?"

Gerand poured himself a glass of liquor and toasted the old man from the otherside of the room.

"The king has decided so, and I agree with his brilliant wisdom. With the boy inhand, we can force Thren to end this annoying little war of his."

"Have you lost your senses?" asked Robert. "You want to take Aaron hostage?Thren is trying to end this war, not prolong it."

He thought of Gerand's stalling, of the way his eyes had swept every corner ofthe room and peered through all the doorways. A stone dropped into his gut.

"You have troops surrounding my home," Robert said.

"We watched Thren leave," Gerand said. He downed his drink and licked his lips."Trust me when I say you're alone. You can play your little game all you want,Robert, but you're still a Haern, and lack any true understanding of thesematters. You say Thren wants this war of his to end? You're wrong. He doesn'twant to lose, and therefore he won't let it end. But the Trifect won'tbow to him, not now, not ever. This will only end when one side is dead.Veldaren can live without the thief guilds. Can we live without the food,wealth, and pleasures of the Trifect?"

"I live off mud," Robert said. "Can you?"

He flung his cane. The flat bottom smacked through the glass and struck Gerand'sforehead. The man slumped to the floor, blood dripping from his hand. The oldman rushed through the doorway as shouts came from the entrance to his home,followed by a loud crack as the door smashed open.

Robert burst into Aaron's training room. The boy winced at the sudden invasionof light. He jumped to his feet, immediately quiet and attentive. The old manfelt a bit of sadness, realizing he would never have a chance to continuetraining such a gifted student.