A Solution Through Shadows Chapter IV

Oren ventured before the shambled homes by the pastures, well past the fields, to the largest bonfire beside an empty pasture. Nearby conversations paused as he passed before picking up again in caution.

What he did catch in his peripheral were the ackans glaring at him. Some barked as he passed, but Oren paid them no attention when counting their kin beside the giant flames, huddled in their arched backs, and eating out of bowls.

“Someone approaches,” one of them called out, stepping away from the face of the fire with his red fur bristled. “What do you want, human?”

Oren stepped up to the trio, the same he spotted in his deliveries, all younger than he, and earned their suspicious glares.

“I recall gossip, sometime ago, about the fires tended to by ackans best for … comin’ into contact with the thieves.”

The ackans looked to one another.

“What you’re talkin’ about?”

Oren tightened his brow, flexing his fists. “You’re not foolin’ me. I had some connections with your kin, whoever’s leading the thieves nowadays. They knew me as the ‘Andubhar.’”

The three stopped in their feeding, turning to one another with soundless words.

“There is no ‘Andubhar,’” one of the ackans said in a low voice. “He died.”

Oren snorted as they continued to eat. “I’m sure I can show you.”

“With what proof?”

“My rites,” Oren rolled his left sleeve up and glanced to the knife on the achkan’s belt to his left. “Might I borrow your knife?”

The boy stepped away from Oren, one hand over his blade, the other clutching onto his bowl as a snarl formed on his face.

“Why would I trust my blade to you?”

“Want to show you somethin’,” Oren said, clenching his left hand and showed the scars on the back of it to the three. He noticed one of them furrowed their brow tighter at the sight of it. “To reassure you I am what I say. Besides, if I do anythin’ to you, I’m sure your friends are close enough to come to your aid.”

Oren watched the three glance to each other before the furrowed browed ackan nodded. The ackan pulled the knife, handing it to Oren, and backed away just as fast.

With a sharp breath, Oren poised the tip above the scar between his pinky and ring finger.

“To legacy,” Oren grazed the knife across the skin, drawing blood and moved over to the next scar.

“For family. In survival. By wealth,” with each word, Oren cut into his skin before opening his unscarred palm out to the three. “I am the Andubhar, reborn.”

Cutting into the meat of his hand, Oren flung it toward the fire, looking to the hung mouths of his observers.

“The Andubhar has returned!” the boy to Oren’s left said, accepting his knife back with awe. “I thought he died.”

“Not quite,” Oren pressed, ripping at the bottom of his tunic to dress his hand. “Just … sleepin’. Will you take me to the thieves now? To whoever’s in charge.”

“‘Course,” the ackan to his right handed his bowl to his silent partner and beckoned Oren with him.

“No,” the burdened ackan said with a tone heavier than the other two, handing the bowls back to his companion, glaring at Oren. “Geob would rather I take him in.”

“But—”

“This man’s not to be trusted.” The older ackan studied Oren for a moment before turning to his companion. “Geob’ll have you beaten if you took him.”

The ackan motioned his head, and Oren followed the man, tightening his bandage and keeping his eyes on their back as they walked between two buildings, and came to a covered hole in the ground.

“So, Geob took over for his brother?” Oren asked, earning a grunt.

“Someone needed to take charge … an’ believe me, Geob’ll be none too happy to see your face.”

Oren waited for the ackan to lift the door and gesture him in. He stepped into a fire-lit tunnel as the ackan closed the entry above and proceeded to lead.

Memories flooded Oren’s mind, his hearing retrained to accept the loud, echoing footsteps of the carved, dirt passage. The silhouette of the ackan reminded him of a taller man.

“Not as lively as I remember,” Oren said. “Used to be you couldn’t hear your own thoughts.”

There were no words, only the stiffened back of Oren’s comment as they came to another door.

“Geob.” The ackan knocked twice. “You have a visitor.”

“Enter,” the low growl emanated behind the door, and the two stepped into the room lined with hung sheets around the small den, a table settled in the center with a laid-out map. A massive ackan sat behind it, eyeing the two.

Oren crossed his arms at the sight of the man’s scowl deepening as the other ackan left the two. “Been a long time, Geob.”

Geob’s brow tightened, a growl rumbling loud before knocking his seat back, and he lunged over the table.

Oren dived to the side, his heart beating fast as he recovered to face Geob head on. He raised his hands, expecting another lunge which the ackan did. Oren stepped to the side, but Geob landed short from what he thought, and flinched by the clawed hand reaching out and grabbing his collar. Geob yanked him into his face, and Oren struggled to release the grip.

“Traitor.” The ackan hissed, lips pulled back to bare his canines, but Oren relaxed for the moment.

“Bastard,” Oren managed to say, matching Geob’s tone as he situated himself on the wall. “Listen, I’m not happy to see you either, much less havin’ to come back after what we’ve been through. But I need to make coin and a lot of it. This is the only place I know I can make a return tonight. Figured you’d have some business I can attend to.”

Geob’s ears pulled back, raising his free, clawed hand. “Not after what you’ve done. You should be dead. Worse than that, you’ve come back.”

“What happened to your brother isn’t my fault,” Oren said, glancing at Geob’s free hand. “There was nothin’ I could’ve done to save him even if I wanted to. Not that I’m sorry. He got what was comin’ to him.”

“Bold words for someone who needs my help,” Geob noted. “What's to stop me from guttin’ you?”

Oren huffed, bringing his bandaged palm to the ackan’s face. Geob’s face softening as he lingered his gaze on it.

“Your brother’s legacy,” Oren said, straightening his back against the wall. “Finally evoked after six years. Considerin’ I’ve got plenty of resentment for you, your brother, and the thieves; I could send you all to an early grave if I wanted. I’m sure the Vanguard would be too happy to exterminate the thieves for good. You could kill me, but in doin’ such, you’ll lose the Andubhar’s secrets with me.”

“You bastard.” Geob growled, tightening his hold on Oren’s collar. “Threatenin’ me with the legacy’s death doesn’t matter when it’s been held in human hands for years. Abandonin’ the willin’ souls who’ve given you a reason to live. To dwindle to the lowest of society without a master to pass down his secrets. And I can’t do anythin’ for us without breakin’ tradition.”

Oren tightened his gaze on the ackan and his biased words but exhaled as calmly as possible while unwrapping his bandages, showing the red-stained hand.

“Then maybe we can come to an agreement. Your guarantee that I am paid the coin I need tonight … and mine to gift the Andubhar’s secrets onto you so that the Andubhar can live on once more. You’ll have my allegiance and my word of anonymity. I’ll swear it again for you if I must.”

The ackan’s eyes widened, his ears loosening a little. “You’d give it up? And give me my brother’s secrets?”

Oren glared at Geob. “If it means gettin’ what I need and quickly. This damn thin’s been nothin’ but a painful reminder. So I’ll be happy to get rid of it then.”

Geob looked away, lowering Oren to the ground, and unhanded him, returning to the table with a bowed head.

“How much coin do you need?” The ackan asked, pulling a book from underneath a table and flipped it open.

“A hundred,” Oren said, smoothing out the front of his tunic, thinking of Jaye’s labored breathing. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got, but I need to be paid tonight—”

Geob growled. “I should remind you there is still a timely process involved. Try as I would, in light of our bargain, I can’t guarantee you a quick payment. The only one that would reward you the money you seek is underway with several thieves tryin’ their hand. Several assignments have been waitin’ for some time to be completed and could see your attention. I can get you returns on those quicker, but you’ve got your work cut out for you. And the thieves’ cut as well.”

Oren grimaced at the thought of the time that would pass before he would be paid. He opened his mouth to urge Geob to continue.

“Several men on that job, and yet, it’s not finished yet, Geob.” Oren and Geob turned to the new, deep voice coming from behind the door.

The door opened, and a hooded figure stepped in, standing just a head shorter than Geob, but Oren noted he was tall and thinner than any other humanoid he had encountered, guessing the voice belonged to a human.

“There are reasons for that,” Geob said, shutting the book with a snap before bowing his head. “My scouts survey Rey’s manor, an’ the last few days haven't shown any openin’ we can exploit. Lord Rey’s well equipped for dealin’ with us. Never mind that we have our regular jobs to perform.”

“I don’t want excuses, Geob,” the human said in a light-hearted tone, with steel beneath it.

“Is this the job that pays the hundred coin?” Oren asked, stepping toward the hooded man who turned to him with a lingering gaze.

“It is the cost I am willing to pay,” he said, crossing his arms. “You’re a new face. However, I don’t reckon we’ve met.”

“I,” Oren hesitated, choosing his words. “I am the Andubhar. At least, I revived it after my predecessor faced execution for his crimes. I’d been caught with him, but the commander gave me a second chance as I hadn’t turned fifteen. Despite that, I still hold the Andubhar’s legacy after bein’ dormant for six years.

“I didn’t want to return, but I face circumstances that force me to take on this burden of thievin’ once more to make ends meet. If Geob is takin’ too long for you, I’d be willin’ to finish this job of yours. Tonight, without backin’ down so long as I’m paid once I return.”

“I said you’re not gettin’ it!” Geob hissed, but the figure raised a hand in his direction.

“You’re not a safe bet,” the man said, bringing his hand to his chin. “You admitted it’s been some time since you took on such a task and the fact you got caught before too doesn’t help your case. Lord Rey, I’m sure, has the toughest measures built around his manor. I would think it’s too difficult for someone as rusty as you.”

“Yet it’s provin’ to stall the seasoned thieves too,” Oren noted, glancing at Geob’s twitching brow. “Far as I’m concerned, I’m on equal footin’. And I’m not afraid of Rey, or whatever he’s got in there. I can get it done tonight. Such a challenge as this is what I’m trained for.”

The hooded man stood there silent, a hand reaching under the hood as Oren listened to the ackan’s heavy breathing.

“If you’re eager to undertake my job and prove me wrong … will you uphold your promise?”

“Yes,” Oren answered, stepping closer to the man.

Geob growled, bringing their attention to him, glaring at the hooded man. “He’s not gettin’ it. That man is the reason the Andubhar is dead.” Geob glared at Oren. “You’ve no reason to trust him!”

“I don’t, Geob.” The man yawned in the light-hearted tone of before. “But I expected the job to be done by now. You’re not doing it. So, to match this man’s daring, I’ll pay him twice the amount if he gets what I’m here for. In the time we’ve agreed upon.”

“Twice?” Geob snarled to Kentigern, stepping between the two. “If that’d been the offer upfront—”

“You’d still be scouting the perimeter of Rey’s manor.” The man turned to Geob. “This offer is only for the boy and only if he returns. Any interference on your part or by the thieves will be dealt with accordingly. At which point, I’ll ensure you never get the thieves to recover to what they were.”

The group fell silent, and Oren stepped back as the hooded figure stepped to him. He could make out the black beard on his square face, but not the eyes.

“In Lord Rey’s office, top floor, turning right as you climb the stairs, last room on that side of the building, is a sword adorning the fireplace behind a desk. It has a tarnished, brass hilt and a silver-colored blade with patterns across the length. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rey grew tired of the view his office had and moved its location. Regardless of where the sword is, I trust you scour the manor and find it. Honor my requests, and the coin will be yours.”

Oren let the words echo in his mind, repeating them before nodding to the two men.

“Then I’ll ensure it is done. And Geob; you can still take the Andubhar’s name. I’m done carryin’ this damn thin’ around.”