That was a stroke of moderate intelligence, Ithnan thought. Who better to catch sea-rats than their own kind?
Only if Dock-Master Shahidi had been willing to execute some of those pirates, something had gone wrong.
Well – wrong for now, Ithnan thought, smirking at the image of the noble quaking in his bed below this very roof. For if those who prowl the docks have learned enough that the pirates’ fate was sealed… then they know enough to attack here, as well.
And they would. Cassim was many things, but forgiving was not one of them. Ithnan had made certain of that before ever bestowing his… gifts, on the Fog Troupe. The gang-leader was the perfect candidate; strong magoi paired with a rukh just on the edge of Falling, driven by hate and desperation. A source of ever-growing chaos in the crumbling kingdom of Balbadd, inflaming his followers with hope that would in turn become black as night when it was clear there was no hope left….
Ah. Here come my little presents.
Light and dark, with both swirling around Cassim like a dust-devil in the desert, rukh even more intense than it’d been seven months ago. Whatever was amiss in Balbadd, Cassim had to have encountered it….
But it’s only strengthened his resolve. Ithnan smiled behind his veil, cold and sharp, watching the angry mob advance on Lord Nalci’s mansion. Well. I think it’s time this arms dealer made a discreet exit.
After all, Lord Nalci’s death wouldn’t be nearly enough to slake the Fog Troupe’s bloodlust. It would only whet that dark hunger – and set all Abhmad’s guards after them, howling for their lives. Cassim would need more weapons. Many, many more.
And if he has to crawl to me to get them… his despair will only grow.