A Rogue's Restraints

Chapter Twelve: House Thatcher

House Taveniel is a well ordered, respected House. One would never question it's credibility. But the things that happen behind closed doors, the crooked handling of the servants, the ruthless political maneuvering, even assassins hired in the night...

Adette ended up being spot on. We wandered around the surprisingly well-off city for about two hours before we were jumped, roughly tied up, gagged, and blindfolded. You know, the typical welcome party for people like the ones we were seeking out.

I'd been through the process before; my biggest complaint was they took my crutch away carried me fireman style. It was annoying, but I wasn't about to spew the snarky comments that came to my tongue. I wasn't even healed from my last beating.

I was dumped into a chair eventually. My blindfold and gag were removed, revealing a man, his face not four inches from my own. I jumped, leaning back. "Dark daemons!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

The man laughed, stepping back. "Sorry, the reaction never gets old." He turned and addressed Adette who sat in a chair on my left. "Who's the invalid, sis?"

"Don't call me sis." Adette said resentfully. "This is Oran."

Thatcher eyed me. I'd taken my head bandage off, so I didn't look like some runaway hospital patient, but the black bruise covered a good quarter of my forehead and dipped toward my ear. The clothes I'd stolen from the Inn were long sleeved and dark pants, but you could still see the lump of bandages on my arm. The crutch and obvious limp gave away my knee.

Despite this I stared back at him defiantly. Thatcher was tall, with a mop of brown hair. His eyes were dark brown, almost black. But the most eye-catching part of him was the fiery amulet around his neck. "Huh, get beat up then. You seem the type to pick fights." He looked back to Adette. "What brings you to Malou, little sis? Wanted me to meet your boyfriend? Must admit he's not very impressive looking. Though his reputation does precede him. Tell me, how did you come in contact with the elusive Sebastian Coreville?"

My stomach dropped. Adette and I shared a quick look. Though I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. My picture had been posted all over the Viscera. Bounty Hunters from all over had been after me. I'd held a small hope that Thatcher wouldn't have been interested in things such as that.

"How'd you know?" I asked stupidly.

Thatcher snorted. "You really don't know how famous your machinations in Bellamy made you, do you? The last person to escape execution like you did, was at least a century or more ago. It simply doesn't happen. Governor Bellamy is spitting blood. He wants you dead and quick. I think he's just about ready to start calling hordes of Blackhearts after you."

"Great." I said. "Well, now you have me, turn me in, collect the hefty bounty."

"No, I don't think I will." Thatcher said simply leaning against the wall. "Why sell something that could be useful to me?" He looked at Adette. "Why don't you tell me exactly why you're here." He said darkly. Oh Black, this was such a bad idea.

"You know I wouldn't even be near Malou if I didn't think this was important." Adette said. "I need a favor."

Thatcher smirked at that. He fingered three gold rings on his left hand. "Ah, I am in the business of favors. What do you need? Money? Honestly, I'm surprised you've lasted so long by yourself."

"I need," She glanced at me, "we need information. We all know about your skills."

Thatcher's expression brightened; a sick grin spread across his face. "You wish to seek the Black? Why, Bernadette, why didn't you say so?"