Chapter 325- Plots and deception

Water trickled down the slimy wall, as the four pairs of boots plodded in single line through the low man-made tunnel.

"Damm that horse-faced Dermal! Couldn't he have found a better hideout than the sewers under the stables? I'm getting nauseous remembering the days of mapping under here."

Hans complained while holding a torch.

He tightened the cloth around his nose with his free hand.

"Is this even true? For all we know that dung face is sending us on a wild pheasant chase."

A mumble came from the rear.

"Doubt it. He seemed docile enough when Miki brought him out of the room."

Chong said.

"Pails, stop bumping into me. And stop splashing up that sewer with your boot. Do you have any idea how hard it is to scrub away liquid horse manure?"

Hans signaled a stop.

He and Chong led Pails and another member of the Behemoth Gang down the sewers to find Dermal's hidden stash.

"There is a mark here."

"Then maybe what the guy said was true?"

"Why didn't we just bring him?"

"Boss says one is enough on the outside. The two others need to sweat a little on the farm."

Hans turned into another tunnel and walked before pausing. In front of him stood a thick metal grate. These were not uncommon among the sewers under the city.

As an experienced sewer explorer, he inspected the barricade while bringing the torch closer.

"Double pin on the hinges. Clean of rust. One-man operation. Oh, another gate in front at about twenty paces. Double-blocked gates. Interesting."

He explained.

Handing the torch over to Chong, he deftly removed the pins with a little shake of the bars. Slowly, the iron grate creaked open. Receiving the torch, Hans walked in while examining the walls.

"Here!"

He said while pointing to the stone wall.

"See the stone? The joints are all laid on top of each other. The stones are nearly all two feet in length. Ideal for a sliding entrance. Push."

Hans shouldered the wall. Unexpectedly, it moved with some extra effort.

"Don't forget the size of Dermal and his brother."

Chong reminded while pushing.

Slowly the narrow entrance opened into a dry but cool room. Torch racks hung on the wall.

Lighting the pair of torches up, they surveyed the contents of the room.

A row of boxes occupied one corner, while an assortment of axes and hatchets stood in the next.

Pails shifted a crate and opened it using the provided axe.

Inside lay huge earthen jars cushioned with straw. He removed one of the two-foot-long jars and scraped away the waxen seal around the cover using a dagger.

Opening the lid slowly, a pungent odor sent him coughing.

***

To the infrequent visitor, the slum district appeared unaltered. The odor wafted across uncleaned drains, leaning shacks of stone and wood, holes in rotted shingle-covered roofs, and the general ambiance of ravenous residents.

For the inhabitants who spent their lives here, however, the changes bordered the monumental.

Areas perenially submerged in pools of stagnant water were dredged, and their sewers cleaned. The condemned and ruined shacks were rebirthed to homely cottages with straw or neatly shingled wooden tile roofs.

The usual heaps of rubbish on the roads were nonexistent, carted away during the dead of the night to fields outside the city.

In the evenings just before dusk, merchants carted unsold bread and produce from the Bakeries and Markets. Door-to-door sales at reduced coins to the tired returning breadwinners.

The families welcomed a discount served right at their doorsteps, the traders, an income from a veritable loss.

Amid the slow but steady restoration, one block remained unchanged. Water-filled ditches, rubbish-strewn lanes. The old shacks lining the streets appeared on the brink of toppling. Some were only upright due to wooden braces nailed to the sides.

A grandmother wizened in age, sat on a broken chair begging beside the road. As if to lend a visual support of pity, her grandson clothed in rags and patches circled the rubbish-heaped road.

With nothing of value, the only signs of life other than these two pitiable folk were the scrounging children who periodically passed.

At the end of the lane, the dilapidated church-like structure stood the same, if not for higher piles of broken stone falling from the walls. The ramshackle shutters appeared seized closed, and the plank 'x's nailed across the roof and blocked doors added to the ruined image.

In the abandoned structure was a scene bustling with activity. Under the light from neatly removed stones in the wall, spaces from removed shutter boards, and the usual oil lamp, information flowed freely.

From the sleeping quarters above the bustle, the whispers of children reading and scribbling could be heard.

Chu sat on a chair next to a desk swamped with stacks of parchment paper. Under the paper tower, Sakura sifted through them, dismantling one stack while building another. Fole assisted the little girl, removing the heaping constructs while bringing over fresh piles.

"The Milking Boar Tavern on Jin Lane, Green Drunkard Inn on Kale Street, and Loving Girls House in the Pleasure District."

The brunette called out in a crisp tone.

At the bottom of the dais close to her, a young girl recorded her words. On the wall, Singh pondered over the large map drawn on dozens of parchment paper stuck together by flour and water.

"Jin Lane is near the south market, two streets up. Little Kat used to report from there before moving to Lucky Quin."

Ran pointed. The little straw-haired girl was the scribe who collected Kat's information.

"Loving Girls House was one of ours until we had to concede it."

Doug informed. 

 Singh dotted the rough map gradually filling it with places and labels of Frost City.

Sakura continued the process until finally turning to the boy sitting beside her.

"These are all the Titles named on the deeds Green recovered. The holders are not Lord Arash and the others."

" Speak! By the Nord Pass, who again are you colluding with? I'll personally skin that baldy if he sold the secrets of my Bloodnight Society!"

An injured old man spewed.

Sakura stood up and stretched before walking over to a small round table. Around it sat two elders, each holding a mug of steaming tea.

"Elder Kruss, please calm down. Amanda said you knocked the splint away last night. Do you like giving us extra work?"

She said while checking the splint on his arm.

"Ah, forgive this old man, little Sakura. Since a tot, I was raised by my teacher within this Society. Nothing is clean in the underground, but when one harbors an attachment, one cannot let it fall into ruin."

"Kruss might be gruff, but his heart is tied to the Bloodnight Society. Our records span centuries, and those of us who have ensured its position will never allow others to use it for their own selfish means."

The other elder said as his eyes dropped below the dais.

"Speak, fatty Jink! I rue the day I let that Arash off. I should have flayed him myself back then."

He stared daggers at the fatty trussed up and sitting on the floor below.

"I don't know! All I knew was he hid everything in the mansion. Arash was more cautious than us. We owned as much as we could that wouldn't raise suspicion. Arash controlled everything else. Whenever the deeds needed to be transferred, he handled it himself."

Fatty Jink cried from below. Snot ran down his chubby face as he begged.

Elder Ganne looked at the teen sitting on the chair before turning to Kruss.

"So from what we know. Arash, Jink, and Dermal have been working for decades under someone from the Wu Clan. Arash handled everything but unknown to him, Dermal and Jink also received separate instructions. Was all this secrecy necessary?"

"But who are all these people? Javis, Grun, Maek, Dune... there must be thousands of residents in this city carrying those names."

 Fole remarked while reading through some titles.

 "Excuse me. Boss, what was that name you called just now?"

Fole turned and shifted toward the kitchen. At the open door, a ten-year-old peeked in while nibbling into a bun.

"Pan, you recognize a name? Javis, Grun, Maek, Dune..."

"Big brother Fole, that one, the Maek one. I heard that name before. Remember the mansion you had us observing? Ara... the Ara,"

"Arash?"

 "Yes! That's the one. That guy called Maek is the one who chased me and Gully away. I remember it because his name sounded weird."

"These names. Is it possible Arash placed the titles on his servants' names?"

Fole asked.

Doug and Singh looked at each other before turning to the brunette.

Before she could speak, the silent teenager stood up. From the reporting children to the scribbling of quills in the hall, all hushed in silence.

"Arash had his own Sersens and accumulated wealth. Given his position in the underworld, he could live freely in Frost City. Even if Clan Wu tried to stomp him out, he held the means to survive in grandeur."

Chu gazed at the map,

"This guy did everything without fearing the consequences of the Society. But the baldy yet took out an insurance on himself by not placing all the titles under his own name."

He gazed at Jink.

"Let me ask you. Although all of you received orders from the Wu Clan, I am sure that only Arash met with the one in charge. In fact, I think Arash actually went to the Wu Clan home or something, no?"

Jink stared with his mouth open at the teen.

"Yes. Around eight or nine years ago Arash traveled with that Wu captain, Wu Ting to the Wu Clan to report our progress."

A grim smile crossed the face of the black-haired teen. Chu faced the two old men and his companions.

"Trying to consolidate the underworld, and I also suspect them of having a hand in the Ancient House competition. This Wu Clan is not simple. Among these three, Arash has yet to break. The man fears the Wu Clan more than torture. Something during that visit to the Wu clan frightened him into submission."

Chu raised a hand to his forehead.

"Swallowing this wealth will bring us a truckload of problems. We cannot afford to place ourselves in the crosshairs of the unknown."

He turned to Doug,

"Bring over the gold you and Dyna stole from the stash Jink hoarded. In total secrecy, mind you. Fole, send a message to Chong, and let them empty that hideout they found. We'll store it in the cellar of Lucky Quin's mansion."

He turned to Singh,

"We need a patsy to take the fall. Singh, bring the Titleholders in. Young Master Will has won a windfall and like the dandy he is, will squander it all."

 His eyes fell on the two Elders,

"The Behemoth Gang has abided by the rules of the Bloodnight Society. I hope the two elders have seen enough so as to prove ourselves."

Brushing his hand through his hair while eyeing Elder Kruss he continued,

"As for our secrets, I hope the two seniors wouldn't mind taking an oath at the church right?"

Elder Kruss stood up while gripping the edge of the table.

"Contrary to some.."

His eyes loaded with hate landed on Jink before he turned and continued,

"Contrary to some of those you have met, the Bloodnight Society functions with honor. The Elder Council will deal with smoothing out the ripples caused by these fools.

Ganne and I had a nice chat after he received the message from me that night. We have no problem in heading to the church, and even getting the other two elders to tag along."

Chu raised an eyebrow,

"But?"

Elder Kruss raised a fist and coughed into it.

"Ahem, if we would be so bold. The ancestors of the Bloodnight Society occupied the zenith for centuries in Frost City for one reason. We were always a Society formed through a circle of members centered around a neutral core. A living linchpin with an Ancient Talisman."

He continued,

"In return for the oath, the Society is willing to utilize its training resources and knowledge. We want Lady Dyna and Lady Miki to serve as the honorary core members. When free of course. This old man shamelessly begs for this. When I stand before hell, we old men can meet our ancestors with pride."

Chu sighed, 

"Old Kruss, when you really see what those two can do, your ancestors will be worshipping you all instead."