Shadowguard

From the kitchen, Leah led her through the door behind the bar and into what looked to be a repurposed wine cellar. It reeked of earth and old wood, the brick walls and dusky floor bearing a vague resemblance to the cellar beneath the Dancing Dragon. Weapons racks hung between shelves of scattered liquors and potions. A pile of crate sat precariously stacked in one corner, and a cluster of small barrels in another. Crammed into the space beneath one shelf were three kegs.

The cellar opened into a wide hallway lined with doors. As they passed the first of several, Everna caught the sound of clashing blades and, beneath it, muffled conversation. Just as she passed the door, she caught a mention of her name. Unable to contain her curiosity, she backtracked and pressed her ear to the door.

“You think she’s a spy?”

The sharp ring of a sword preceded the response. “It wouldn’t be the first time some hussy used her looks to fool Wil into doing something stupid. You know how he is. That idiot can’t help himself when a girl bats their eyelashes at him.”

“Yeah, but supposedly the Guard chased her out of Pendel,” the other countered. She couldn’t quite tell which of the two siblings it was, but the voice was a touch deeper than the first.

“Shroud does all kinds of things that seem counterproductive,” the first argued. “Who’s to say it wasn’t all a show to get Wil to bring her here so she can stick her nose into everything?”

“Look, I’m just as against this as you are, but I don’t think she’s here because she wants to be. I just think it’s a bad idea if Shroud’s looking for her.”

“You don’t eavesdrop on a conversation unless you’re up to no good.”

“We were talking about her,” the man said. “I’d be listening too if I were her.”

“I don’t care what we’re talking about. She has no business listening.”

Everna rolled her eyes. “Then maybe don’t have a conversation, which I could hear all the way upstairs, in a public space. Or better yet, be quieter if you’re that concerned. You don’t want me listening, then keep my name out of your mouths.”

The conversation on the other side of the door came to an abrupt halt. With a huff, she pulled away from the door and continued down the hall. The attitude would likely come back to bite her in the rear, and while she normally couldn’t care less what people thought of her, she’d had enough of wild and baseless accusations.

She wanted no part of this anymore than they did.

Feeling the first signs of irritation set in, she drew in a deep breath. She wanted no part of it, but her desires had little bearing on the situation. The matter escalated beyond her control. Fighting it or throwing a fit over the unfairness of it all would get her nowhere. It was what it was, and the only thing she could do was deal with it.

At the end of the hall, Leah stood waiting for her, a perfect brow raised in question. When Everna offered no explanation, she merely shrugged and pushed the door open.

To call it a library would be generous. The room was hardly larger than Sir Swiftbrook’s office. Tall, floor-to-ceiling shelves, crammed full of books, covered three of the four walls. In the center was a two-seated couch and two armchairs position around a small, wooden table.

Leah stepped past her and pulled a thick black book from the shelf closest to the door. “For obvious reasons, we don’t keep anything that goes into the details of our workings, but we do have general texts which explain the history of the organization.”

Everna took the book from her and turned it over in her hands. “I thought it was an underground organization.”

“It’s underground in the sense that you won’t find us patrolling the streets as you would the Guard or, at the very least, wouldn’t know if we did,” Leah explained. “We’re certainly not unknown, but we’re not out in the open, either.”

People knew they existed, but not where to find them, Everna assumed.

She pulled the cover of the book open and peered inside. It was a handwritten copy — a rarity these days. Most books were penned by printing quills, which remained precise and consistent throughout the entire work. The words scrawled across the yellowed pages slanted and each line showed a clear downward trend, giving the illusion of crookedness.

Interest piqued, she dropped into the nearby armchair and began leafing through the pages. It read a bit like a textbook, but without the monotonous droning of most historical accounts. There was an almost personal touch to it that made it far more enjoyable to read.

Shadowguard was as old as Inverness, allegedly founded by Queen Everna herself to protect the kingdom from Shroud, who controlled the region during that period. Everna found it odd; if Shadowguard was so heavily ingrained into Inverness’s history, how had she not heard of them before? Had the kingdom wiped any mention of them, just as they had with Shroud?

As if sensing her question, Leah sighed. “Queen Everna didn’t intend for Shadowguard to be known. Within the last fifty years, there’s been a push to be more visible, and some places have taken that step. It’s a rather controversial topic within the organization.”

“Yes, well, being known certainly defeats the purpose of being underground,” Everna said.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Leah said. She slipped into the armchair opposite of her and pressed a finger to her temple. “The push for visibility has caused a divide among ideologies, as well as doubts regarding Shadowguard’s efficacy.”

Everna hummed. The display she witnessed a few moments ago attested to that claim. Osain admonished them much in the way an exhausted father addressed his troublesome children rather than trained agents of a legitimate organization.

“This is not an ideal introduction to the organization. Under normal circumstances, you’d be scouted and vetted before we even approached you, then sent to a training facility, which is much more organized.” Leah admitted. “Osain deals with the special cases, shall we say?”

“Why do I have a feeling ‘special’ means incompetent?”

Leah sighed and slumped in her seat. “While I would normally prefer not to have this conversation, I think it’s best I assure you Shadowguard is both trustworthy and reliable, though it may not seem that way. Therefore, as much as it pains me to, I will be honest. You are correct. Beyond Wil and I, who were called in from the capital, Osain’s cohort deals with the inadequates.”

“So, I’m to place my life in the hands of what amounts to Shadowguard’s rejects?”

“Their inadequacy is less a matter of skill and more of mindset,” she explained. “As I said, don’t take it to heart. Vina’s Anwellian, so expecting anything of her is a lost cause, but Lisette and Cedric have their reasons for being guarded.”

Everna scoffed. There was a difference between being on guard and making baseless accusations. It was hard to “eavesdrop” on a conversation she could hear halfway up the stairs. She found it very difficult to believe being guarded had anything to do with the implications that’s she’d seduced her way into the safe house — because she definitely wooed him with her horrible haircut and lack of consciousness.

“The situation isn’t ideal and we’re horribly unprepared for it,” Leah admitted. “Wil went to Pendel expecting a something of local political dispute; we hadn’t suspected Shroud’s involvement at all. They’re our primary enemy, but not the only one.

“To be completely transparent, as far as Shadowguard’s concerned, you’ve served your purpose; you lured the culprits into revealing themselves. We’d hoped that would be the end of it, but it only complicated things further. It’s now a matter of keeping you alive, and I can promise you, Shroud will make that as difficult as possible.”

Everna bit back a sigh. She appreciated the honesty, as much as it unsettled her. The book mentioned Shroud, as well as their misdeeds; having an organization that dealt primarily in death after her was not a comforting thought.

Leah reached over and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “They may make it difficult, but under prepared as we are, Shadowguard specializes in thwarting Shroud.”