The Tales of Miriela: Shadowborn

Chapter 55: Thomas Siln

Lord Siln had been shut away in his home, like a wounded animal cowering in its den. He hadn't stepped outside since his return from the Canstein. Dark circles had grown under his eyes, and a patchy beard had formed around the grey in his goatee. Red veins coursed across the white in his eyes, a rageful hate which wouldn't let him sleep. It was that very hate that brought him back to the Ferenor, the rage which flood's a proud man's heart, when another takes from him what is his. The Queen's pardon disguised that hate and presented it as something much easier for Thomas to accept, something much easier for him to act upon, justice.

And that was what Thomas now truly believed. The vindication of another had fueled his motive. He had been wronged, so much so that it nearly took his life. He had every right to seek vengeance, and through it he would take far more than Kline Wullmont would have ever given him.

The stir of rage and ambition had flooded his mind day and night. Thomas could hardly think of anything other than his revenge. But the time was finally upon him. Tonight was the night that Kline Wullmont would fall, and with him, the High Council.

Lord Siln stood from his seat at the table, the light of the street lamp peered in through the window and cast across his face. He opened the creaking door and left his home, with the smell of sweet wine still heavy on his breath, his teeth clenched in fury.

He had not been to his brothel in days. The need for security had prevented him from leaving his home, and away from his business. But the brothel's coin needed to be collected, and its ledgers reviewed. The Noble District Brothel was in the market, South of Thomas' home. He walked the red cobblestone streets to the market, where the brothel awaited.

"Lord Siln, it's been some time since we've seen ya. And by the Gods it looks like you've seen a ghost. Haven't seen skin that pale, you feeling okay?" Asked Deserae, one of Thomas' most profitable whores.

"Has the brothel been busy, Deserae? What coin do you have for me to collect?" Thomas asked harshly.

"It has, m'Lord. Come and I will show you." She took Thomas from the brothel's lounge at its entrance, and down its only hall. They passed many boisterous rooms, until they came to a single room at the hall's end.

"All of the coin, minus our shares of course." Deserae handed over a large coin pouch, nearly filled to its brim.

"And the ledger?" Thomas responded.

"Here as well." She opened the brown leather book.

Deserae was trustworthy, if anyone of the girls were. Thomas reviewed the ledger each day and began to count his coin. He wasn't concerned with its accuracy. In fact, he was fairly certain the whores were taking more than their share. But he had greater things on his mind, and he needed to find the right way to speak of them.

"On the ledger, each of the last five nights, there is an unnamed patron. What should I make of this?" Thomas asked.

"The patron asked to keep his identity private. Rumor spread around amongst the girls that it was Kline Wullmont, the King himself. I had to see it to believe," Deserae giggled. "And, indeed I did. It was the King alright. He's been here each night. He no longer wants girls sent to the Estate. Never said why, he just started traveling here himself."

The King had always used the brothel's services, discreetly. Thomas had girls sent to the Estate each night, upon Kline' request. But since his return from the Canstein, things had been different. As Thomas sat in his home, infuriated with desire for revenge, he formed a plan. One night he had spotted one of his girls through his open window. He called out to her, and recognizing him, the girl entered his home. She was on her way to the Estate, to pay a visit to the King. Thomas handed her a letter to carry with her.