The Iron Wolf

Chapter Two

They left in the dark hours of the morning, the gate sentries watching silently as the Mirror left the Castle and the Court behind. They had dressed in simple garb, their armor no longer enameled white but plain iron. The cloaks that covered their shoulders were of undyed wool and their famed swords were sheathed unadorned in simple scabbards. They looked like a pair of traveling knights if it were not for their similar looks that marked them as siblings. But it was the gold crest that Nox kept tucked in his shirt that allowed them free passage throughout the GoodLands.

Beyond the castle walls sprawled the Shadow City, named for the constant dusk in which it lay, caused by the massive castle walls that loomed high overhead. Many believed that the place closest to the monarch must be the safest and had flocked in hordes to live against the stones of the castle's defenses after the Reawakening. Soon, what once was a small refugee camp grew into a shanty city with a maze of back alleys and shadowy corridors as its bloodlines. Fear and crime grew rampant. Small outbreaks of rising dead were a daily occurrence, Sol herself had a healthy fear about the place. It was an unpredictable, manmade BadLands. But still people flocked to the Shadow City, fear driving them from their healthy villages and farms to live in squander for the false security of guards patrolling the walls high above them. And the gangs that haunted the city had a way of knowing things that the government did not. Though there was currently no evidence for activity from the Pack so close to the castle, there would surely be some secrets of the Iron Wolf for sale here, it was simply all about if one knew where to look.

Sol and Nox rode in single file through the winding streets of the Shadow City, hoods pulled low over their telltale features. Street urchins with hollow cheeks and women with haunted eyes watched silently as they rode by. The GoodLands certainly better off than it was during the first years after the Wakening, but one did not have to look far to see the struggles that plagued the lands still.

The King ruled the GoodLands, but gangs and slum lords ruled the streets of the Shadow City. Nox and Sol had been here before, accompanying the annual raids in attempt to clear the city of crime, but like persistent weeds, it always seemed to hide a few seedlings that quickly grew again. King Jago had cut back on the raids in the last few years as the BadLands became more persistent, preferring to send troops to the Walls to repair and guard than try and fight the never ebbing tide of crime at the foot of his castle.

The Mirror stopped before a bar at the end of an alley, drunken laughter and lamp light spilling out of the open doorway. The twins dismounted, their armor gleaming in the weak light. Slipping through the doorway, they pulled down their hoods, allowing the light to reveal who they were. With movements long rehearsed as children, they moved in sync to the back of the bar, having planned this excursion before they had left the castle.

The barmaid wandered over with an air of fake ease, carrying a pair of dirty mugs filled with wine. Sol made sure to smile up at the woman as she set the drinks down at the table while Nox simply broodily watched the room. It was easy enough to play to the public image, and nothing drew the people she and Nox sought than two of the King's most prized assets loitering in what most considered their domain. Sol took a sip of the drink in front of her, grimacing at the sour taste of cheap wine, she made sure to favor the opposite hand that Nox use to grip the hilt of his sword. Though the Mirror was famed for their skill of the sword and in battle, Sol had always felt that she and her brother's likeness unnerved even the coldest of warriors.

While Nox watched with a statuette seriousness, Sol gazed about the room with an easy gaze, leaning back in her chair. She could never truly become the cold mask of seriousness quite like her brother, but Sol was adapt in masking her emotions with others. Her mind raced, and if need be, she would be quick to draw her sword. Though her gaze be lazy and relaxed, she saw who carried weapons, seen and unseen, who was drunk enough to rally up into a riot if the need arose, and who watched her and her brother with sly gazes out of the corner of her eye.

Sol turned to her brother as she felt a nudge in her side. With the slightest of nods, Nox directed her gaze to the newest of inhabitants in the bar. Four men, shrouded in heavy cloaks whose dark fabric might have once been called fine. Sol watched as the figures approached their table, their faces hidden from the light by dark hoods. She simply raised her brows as they stopped before the Mirror. Swords hung from each of their belts, openly and brazenly. These were men who thought themselves powerful and were adapt at having their way.

The tallest placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, the message clear to all. Nox let his hand drop from his. It was a small exchange of power, the Mirror had consented. Sol sighed, keeping her easy air as she stood.

"To the streets boys? Or shall we stand here like waiting maids?" Sol taunted lightly, smiling at the dark figures. Nox cast her a disapproving look, though he understood her methods, he had never liked the way she taunted and danced around her opponents. Of course, she could hardly say she liked the way he charged headlong into his.

The two leading figures turned and walked from the doorway, the last two trailing behind with the Mirror squarely in the middle. Sol's shoulders tensed. She had no doubt that she and her brother could take the four men. But still, she felt uneasy when herded like common cattle. Nox brushed his arm against hers, a simple gesture that would look like a brother comforting a sister to any other. But Nox was not one for public shows of affection, no matter how small. It was a signal they had used long before, in times of tension. It was a signal to be on guard, and ready to attack or flee if necessary.

The men led the Mirror into a dark side alley, the high walls on either side effectively caging the group in. The two trailing men stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking the exit from escape. The two leading turned, pulling down their hoods. Each bore scars across their faces, thin lancing marks that crisscrossed their cheeks. They were marks only borne by members of the Lotus Gang, a small, but one of the most influential gangs of the Shadow City. Connected to the ruins of an extremist, religious cult, each member went through rigorous initiation that left them scarred, but full members of the gang. They were led by a brute of a man who fashioned himself the simple but powerful name of King, a jab at the monarch whose walls stood so close. His face unknown, it was said that he had a personal hand in wiping out many of the old gang families.

Sol looked over at her brother, meeting his gaze. They had met with the Lotus Gang once before, when they were their younger selves. A small, but bloody battle in the alleys of the Shadow City in the first of King Jago's raids. It had lasted four days and taken the lives of half the battalion the Mirror led. They had learned to leave the small gang alone after that. The members fought with vicious, religious zeal incomparable to all. Even the stubborn military council had issued a decree of silence on the matter. In the eyes of the law, the Lotus Gang was not to be touched.

"Your weapons..." the tallest of the group rasped as he blinked slowly. Sol rolled her shoulders, it was always unnerving to be disarmed in the face of uncertainty, but even still she unbuckled her blade from around her waist and set it down upon the ground in front of her, removing the knife from her boot and placing it gently on the cobblestones as well. Sol leaned back on her heels as Nox slowly copied her actions beside her. A knife and a sword were customary of warriors serving in court, it was enough to convince the four members of the Lotus Gang that it was indeed all they carried as the tall man who seemed to be the most senior of the four spoke again.

"King will meet with you." he drawled out slowly as the two men behind them pushed the Mirror to kneel on the ground. Nox grimaced, sharing in Sol's discomfort.

"Now boys, no need to get all formal on us." Sol tsked, trying to keep her easy air as tensions rose. The kneeling positions she and her brother shared were eerily similar to that of a criminal sentenced to the King's Justice, right before the damning sword fell.

But her humor quickly fell to shreds as both she and Nox's arms were wrenched back, their arms bound quickly in rough rope. Sol's shoulders screamed in pain as she cursed angrily, Nox spitting his fair share of curses beside her as rage broke his quiet demeanor. But they did not lash out, not yet for their mission was centered upon the Iron Wolf and the Lotus Gang would surely have whispers to be bought.

"You understand our need for secrecy." The tall smiled down upon his trussed guests, his rotting teeth the last thing Sol saw as a bag was pulled over her head. They were helpless, bound by both the bonds of their orders and those that were quickly being wound tighter around the Mirror. They were at the Lotus Gang's mercy...

:D Nice little cliffhanger for you all. Chapter 3 will be up next week with a fun little surprise...

~TheWanderingQueen